Vin stopped petting Pony and tucked it in the crook of his left arm then stood up. Walking over to stand in front of Ezra, he rocked from side to side, holding out his right hand and waited patiently . . . expectantly.
"Do you require something, Mr. Tanner?" Ezra asked gently.
Vin pushed his hand forward and wriggled his fingers.
"Looks like he wants something that you have," Chris noted from his place by the pool table.
"Very well," Ezra huffed. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he offered Vin his cell phone. "Obviously not the item of interest." Taking off his watch, he tried to hand it to Vin only to be ignored. Tanner wriggled his fingers again, a spark of presence showing in the sapphire eyes. Ezra went through his pockets, offering the contents as he went. Tanner's eyebrows drew down in a serious frown. Stretching out his hand, he pulled Ezra's jacket open and brushed his fingers over the inside pocket. "It's empty, Mr. Tanner," Ezra responded calmly.
Nathan caught a flash of vision . . . Ezra's long slender fingers shuffling a deck of cards. "Your cards, he wants the cards that you carry there."
"My cards? I stopped carrying that particular deck years ago; it had become far too fragile. They were printed shortly after the Recent War of Northern Aggression," Ezra spluttered.
"Recent War of Northern Aggression?" Bruce interrupted.
"The Civil War. That's how they refer to it down south," Buck laughed.
"Ah was twelve when ah discovered damyankee could be two separate words," Ezra sniffed.
"Do you have the cards with you?" Chris asked sharply.
"They're in my bag," Ezra scowled. "Won't another deck of cards do? I'm certain that there will be several decks in the cupboard."
"We can try, but for some reason I think it needs to be that particular deck," Josiah frowned thoughtfully.
JD opened several drawers in the cabinet closest to the card tables before discovering a cache of unopened decks of cards.
"Here you go," JD put a deck into Vin's extended hand.
Vin pulled back, dropping the cards to the floor. He once again reached toward Ezra, brushing the tips of his fingers over the empty pocket before holding out his hand, palm up.
"Only that particular deck," Ezra acknowledged with a grin, before reaching down beside him for his bag. Unzipping a side pocket, he offered a highly carved wooden box. "Please try to return them, Mr. Tanner. They are a family heirloom."
Vin took the box and returned to his spot by the fire. Sitting down, he began stroking the dragon, then the pony, lost in his own little world, humming a strange tune.
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Desultory conversations took place as the worried group settled in for the night.
As the evening progressed, several card games were organized and the pool table stayed in use for the next several hours. Nettie produced a long handled turning fork and the fixings for s'mores. Temporarily creating a more festive atmosphere among her chicks, Nettie chuckled to herself as Casey convinced Ezra Standish to break down and actually eat a s'more. Before long, the debonair conman was sitting on the thick rug beside Vin. He even went so far as to copy Vin by licking the 'sticky' off his fingers.
There's a lot of pain there. A grown man and he never had a s'more before. 'Mother' he called her, that woman has a lot to answer for. Nettie slipped her hand down and played gently with the far to perfect chestnut tresses. Ezra's head snapped up in startled shock and he froze in place. Nettie looked into the fire and continued to idly run her fingers through the now disheveled hair, revealing the hidden curls, allowing her behavior to be written off as a simple habit due to Tanner.
Ezra rapidly glanced around to see if the action had drawn anyone's attention. Once he was assured that he was unobserved he relaxed slightly. Gradually, Ezra eased closer into the comforting touch until he actually leaned against Nettie's chair for several long moments before reluctantly pulling away.
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Casey smiled faintly, taking in the tableaux. Ezra drowsing in the warmth of the fire. Nettie 'healing' a damaged chick. Her breath caught as she looked over at Vin. The rocking had stopped and the long fingered hands lay still on his lap. He's acting like he did when Nettie first brought him home. Casey thought in disbelief.Looking around the room, she could discern nothing that would appear to be the cause of such a reaction from Vin. Noticing Dr. Jackson moving toward Nettie with his black bag, Casey rose in an attempt to act as a buffer between the doctor and her 'brother'.
"I just want to check on Nettie," Nathan explained softly to the protective girl. "I didn't like the way Ms. Nettie seemed to weaken upstairs."
"Be real careful. Vin's . . . nervous and you don't want to frighten him," Casey warned.
"I noticed he doesn't like me," Nathan responded.
"It's not you. It's your profession," Casey sighed. "Vin's scared of doctors. He's had to have five surgeries on his hands to repair all the damage his foster parents did to them. We never could explain to him why we let doctors hurt him. They would keep him sedated in the hospital most of the time, and that stuff makes him sicker than a dog. He couldn't even hold Pony with his casts and his hands had to be kept elevated. It would take weeks before he'd forgive us for letting them do that to him."
"I can see why he has a problem with doctors," Nathan agreed.
"And you're a big man, Dr. Jackson. His foster father was bigger than Josiah. Vin associates men with pain, especially big men," Casey said apologetically.
"Think you could introduce me?" Nathan asked thoughtfully. "I'm used to difficult patients. I get most of Josiah's broken souls," Nathan revealed.
"We can try." Casey sighed in relief at Nathan's understanding of the situation.
"Vin," Casey knelt down in front to the tense youngster. "Do you remember Dr. Jackson?"
Nathan squatted down and held out his empty hands. "Vin, I'm worried about Ms. Nettie. She got shaky upstairs," Nathan spoke to the bent head.
Vin's head turned slightly toward Nettie, then back to Nathan.
"I'd like to take her blood pressure and check her pulse. Will you let me do that?" Nathan requested.
Tanner began petting Pony and rocking. The strange tune once more filled the air as Vin began humming.
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"What song is that Ms. Nettie?" Nathan asked as he took her blood pressure.
"I don't recognize it," Nettie admitted. Her hackles rose as she noticed the Mona Lisa type smile that appeared on Mary's face.
"I believe it might be a Stephen Foster melody, but I'm not certain," Ezra suggested from his comfortable spot by the fire.
Buck overheard the discussion and walked over to join the group while Chris and Mary once more dealt with one of Sydney Crooks' rants. After listening to Vin's mellow tone for a moment Buck smiled and nodded, "It's called The Love I Bear to Thee and it is by Stephen Foster." His pleasant baritone lifted into song as he put words to the tune for them.
At midnight hour when all alone,
I often sit and think of thee,
And wish that like a star I shone,
With brightness in thy memory;
That while thy form lies calm in sleep,
From every care and sorrow free,
Thy guardian angel then would speak,
And tell the love I bear for thee,
The love I bear for thee.
I wander where we've often strayed,
In childhood's hours now passed and gone,
I view the scenes where we have played,
And mourn the joys forever flown;
And yet I know if thou wouldst seek,
To drive me from thy memory,
Thy guardian angel then would speak,
And tell the love I bear for thee,
The love I bear for thee.
"Is it a love song or not?" Nathan asked uncomfortably.
"Unrequited love," Nettie shivered as she noticed Mary's dark shadow. It seemed to resist the glow cast by the fire and lanterns, before oozing back from the light.
"It's him," Cedric snarled, walking over to look down on the silently playing Tanner.
"What's him?" Tony asked, his dark eyes lingered on the highly agitated Kilkenny.
"It's this freak. He's the one locking us in this hell hole. I bet if he's unconscious the doors will open," Cedric hissed. "You got anything in your bag to make him sleep, Jackson?" Kilkenny demanded.
"Cedric, leave Vin alone!" Angel moved protectively between Tanner and the threatening man.
"That's Dr. Jackson! Tanner's not in pain and he's not violent. I don't medicate people on a whim," Nathan snapped.
Cedric scowled darkly before stalking off to join Ivy and the routed Crooks.
"That boy is wound too tight," Buck huffed.
"We need to keep an eye on Kilkenny. Vin has victim written all over him as far as Cedric is concerned," Tony growled. Looking down at Angel, he smiled warmly and stroked her cheek with gentle fingers.
"I know the boy is spoiled rotten, but dangerous?" Nathan scowled.
"He likes to hurt things," Angel whispered. "He hurts people. Vin can't tell on him so he'd be a perfect target. The only reason he isn't worse is because he's a coward. If you stand up to him, he looks for weaker prey. If you don't believe me, ask Casey." Angel finished softly.
"You stood up to him. Good for you," Casey wrapped an arm around the shaking Angel's waist.
"I did, didn't I? I'm not as much of a wuss as I thought." Angel straightened and laughed shakily.
Nettie nodded in acknowledgment to the girl. "I never saw a weak creature, girl. A woman's strength is different than a man's is all."
"Once Cedric decides something, there's no reasoning with him," Bruce warned nervously.
"We'll keep an eye on him," Buck promised.
"You want something, Junior?" Buck looked down, surprised by the tug on his pants leg.
Vin held out one of Ezra's antique cards.
"He's got your number," Chris chuckled as he finally freed himself from the clinging Mary.
Buck stared down at the card in his hand, the Queen of Hearts. "I can't help it if I have animal magnetism," Wilmington leered cheerfully at Nettie.
"A bath might help," Nettie humphed, playing along.
"Maggotisim," JD teased.
"Mag-ne-tis-m," Buck enunciated clearly.
"Would a flea dip work as a cure, Dr. Jackson?" Ezra asked wryly.
"I don't think so, but fixing him might," Nathan responded.
"Stop talking dirty doc," Buck huffed.
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Nettie's worried eyes lingered on the four distinct groups. Her chicks by the fire playing cards. Buck, Josiah, Nathan, Ezra, and Chris made up the second group, the 'regulators' as she thought of them. Periodically, JD would join them for a while before resettling with the 'chicks'.
Some of Nettie's tension eased as Chris and each of the 'regulators' periodically made unobtrusive, yet telling 'patrols' of the room.
The third group, if it could be called a group, consisted of Crooks, Kilkenny and Ivy Miller. Sandpaper, that's what my momma would have said. 'Nettie some folks are like sandpaper: abrasive, rubbing, and scratching away at you. In the end, you come out polished and smooth. Sandpaper is just worn out and ugly. See to it that your that polished piece instead of sandpaper'. Lord Momma there are days I miss you so bad.
Then there was the fourth, if you could call Mary a 'group'. This house has got her bound tight. Nettie's eyes studied Mary intently. You can't have my boy. Nettie locked gazes with Mary's strangely dark eyes. The shadow seemed to draw back as Chris passed between the two women. Nettie gently stroked Vin's hair and began to hum an old hymn. Tanner sighed and leaned into the touch for a moment. Nettie breathed a sigh of relief as Vin began to hum the hymn instead of that disturbing tune from earlier.
I forgot the little reporter fella. Where is he? Nettie looked around sharply. Now how could I miss him, sitting right out in the open that way? You're getting senile Nettie. "Mr. Steele, it's warmer over here by the fire," Nettie called over to the miserable looking man. Jock bounced to his feet and hurried over like a little boy released from a time out.
"Have you eaten, Mr. Steele?" Nettie asked.
"A very interesting house, isn't it? Call me Jock, and no I haven't," Steele pattered, almost quivering with excitement.
"Bathroom is just across the hall. I'll get you something to eat while you wash up," Nettie cut him off. That . . . bounce, need to keep him away from Larabee. Chris would kill him, and then feel bad about it later… maybe.
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"We need to rescue Ms. Nettie from that reporter," Angel whispered.
"Her eyes have glazed over," Bruce snickered.
"She's asleep," Casey snorted.
"Her eyes are open," Tony pointed out.
"Eyes open, sitting up straight. . . It's her boring sermon sleep," Casey giggled. "She'll even do responsive readings. It's something she learned over the years going to church after working third shift."
"Are you poking fun at your Aunt, Casey Wells?" Josiah's deep voice rumbled.
Casey flushed but looked totally unrepentant. "Yes," she smirked.
"She answers? Responsive readings?" Josiah's voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper.
"Uh-huh," Casey grinned.
"I always did have a hard time turning the other cheek," Josiah grinned widely. "Let's call this poetic justice from the other side of the pulpit." Sanchez wandered over where he could get a good view. "AMEN!" he suddenly barked.
People jumped and jerked around to look. Nettie sprang to her feet responding with a hearty 'Amen' of her own. Nettie froze in place, then flushing brightly she took her seat once more. Steele's monolog took up where he had left off at Josiah's out burst. The 'Chick's' sniggers and muffled laughter filled the room seeming to drive back the shadows momentarily.
"Mr. Steele, I found some bedding for you," Casey moved over to interrupt the little reporter. Casey dragged him off to prepare his bed, giving her aunt a cheeky grin and wink.
"Forgive me, Ms. Nettie. I couldn't resist," Josiah stood in front of Nettie's chair, ducking his head and studying his feet.
"Enjoyed yourself, did you?" Nettie's snapping grey eyes studied the large 'child' in front of her.
"I must confess, I did," Josiah rumbled.
"Good. You're too serious, Josiah Sanchez. God has a sense of humor." Nettie let a chuckle bleed into her voice.
"You're not mad?" Sanchez asked softly.
"Of course not," Nettie sniffed. "Just remember this later."
author's note
damyankee-(dam'yang'ki) n. U.S. informal. a Northerner.
actual entry in World Book Encyclopedia Dictionary
Nettie's thoughts on sandpaper are paraphrased from the movie The Fighting Temptations.
