Dance With Me
-Dangerous Insinuations-
Forrest Bondurant left the hospital two weeks after he was admitted, and I hoped the door hit him in the ass on his way out.
With Forrest gone, my days opened wide up. I could actually enjoy my job again, instead of spending all my time babysitting the criminal. I could shadow the doctor, though I didn't rightly understand anything he was trying to explain to me. But I liked when he talked, and I liked watching him work. He was a smart man, that doctor, with a voice like smooth molasses and the steadiest hands I'd ever seen. And I followed instructions well, so he didn't mind me tagging along when he made his rounds, or conducted a procedure.
He told me once that I wasn't meant to be a nurse and that when we got out of this nasty depression, I should think about saving my wages and going to university. He said he thought I'd do well there, that I'd probably find what I was meant to do in this life. But it wasn't nursing, and it wasn't being nobody's wife, and I wasn't going to find it in this county. It sounded like something my daddy would say if I'd had one of those, so I took it to heart. If anyone knew what he was talking about, it would be the doctor.
Anyway, regarding my blissful departure from the Bondurant acquaintance, the relief was short-lived. Maybe three, four months after Forrest was released, he came right back to us again.
Now, word gets around Franklin County pretty quickly. Never know how reliable that word is or not, depending on whose mouth it comes from, but all in all it does the job fairly well. Everyone knew Maggie Beauford, either as Forrest Bondurant's sweetheart, or the pretty city lady who worked the grill at Blackwater Station. One day, it was the thick of summer so I'd say about a month ago, word got around that the redhead up and left the county. Gone, disappeared into the night and hadn't been seen since.
Some folks say Forrest killed her. Drank a little too much of that rotgut, lost his grip on reality and mistook her for an enemy. But the general word was that she left him. And he must've done something awful too, because I'd seen firsthand the kind of stronghold she'd had on him. She didn't look like she was going nowhere any time soon. One of the more popular theories was that she'd asked him when he was going to marry her, and he choked up. That sounded like something Forrest would do, so that's the idea I held onto. A blatant hesitation to a suggestion like that, and ain't no respectable woman going to stick around much longer. Good on her for getting out while she still could. Franklin County wasn't any place for a city girl anyway.
When a group of men came carrying Forrest up the steps and into the hospital one late afternoon in the middle of the week, they said he done fell off a ladder onto his head while fixing a leak in the roof at the station. Said they was watching, and he got his footing wrong, lost his grip, and fell back in an arch. But us nurses, we was sure he was trying to commit suicide. It made sense. Any man would at least think about it, after losing a woman like Maggie Beauford. Right fool he was, for letting that happen. But they insisted it was an accident, so we went ahead and let them believe that.
I'd been making my rounds with the Doctor when they brought him in, four men I faintly recognized, but couldn't say from where. They held Forrest by the arms and legs, struggling to keep the weight of bone and thick muscle as straight and steady as possible. Doctor immediately rushed him into the nearest empty room, asking what happened.
"How long he been like this?" he asked, flipping the body onto his side to inspect for bruising or fracture.
"Don' really know," one of the men said nervously, fidgeting with the brim of his hat as he looked down at the unconscious Bondurant. "Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes."
"Was he awake after he fell at all?" the Doctor gingerly touched his fingers along the length of the neck. "Or was he immediately knocked asleep?"
"Knocked asleep, I'd say," the same man said. "Wasn't responding to nothing we did to him."
The Doctor shot a glare to the men that said they shouldn't have been doing anything to him anyway, and said, "Thank you for bringing him in, gentlemen. Go on and tell his brothers what happened. We've got it from here." He made sure to see every last one of the men gone, before he returned his attention to Forrest.
"Doctor-?" I began, but he cut my question short with, "Edie, how many times I have to tell you, I have a name," as he felt along Forrest's spine.
"Uh-uh, no you don't," I corrected him. "Where I come from, if you earn yourself a title, that's what you're called by."
He chuckled quietly, and then said, "Did you have a question, dear?"
"Yes," I said, "I don't have to take care of him again, do I?"
He shot a quizzical look over the top of his spectacles at me as I stood on the other side of the bed, and I knew he could see the distaste in my face as I stared down at Forrest. "Don't much like the Bondurants?" he mused, then shook his head slightly. "Tha's all right, not many do. We'll give him to Doris – I bet the both of them will get along just fine."
He waited until the suggestion registered, and the smile spread across my face, before he dropped his gaze back to his hands as they worked over Forrest's back. Doris was an old witch of a nurse. Tough as nails and meaner than Satan himself. You could be paralyzed from head to toe and bleeding out every cavity in your body, but you'd be a fool to expect any sympathy coming from old Doris.
Forrest went ahead and put himself in a coma, but the doctor determined that there were no fractures along his back, spine, or head. Ugly bruising, but that ain't much to worry about. No telling how bad of a head trauma he received until he woke up. So until then we was in the dark about whether or not he turned himself into a vegetable. Doctor said the trauma to the head was what put him in the coma, and if Forrest hit the back of his head like he was assuming, it was possible that he'd have memory loss.
We kept that to ourselves though, wasn't worth the uproar. Forrest losing his memory would be bad for business, we suspected.
It was maybe two days before the man came to. I found myself coming round Forrest's chambers to check up on him routinely. Couldn't stop myself. I'd taken care of him for two weeks. Nursed the goner back to health mighty quickly, so I expected a certain level of dedication and commitment from my colleagues when it came to the familiar patient.
But there wasn't a scrap of humanity left in that old hag Doris. Didn't rotate positions of the body as he slept so his limbs didn't go numb. Didn't change his rags often enough, leaving him resting in his filth far longer than a human should have to. She thought shoving a tube down his throat to put substance in his stomach was ungodly. She didn't mind sticking the needles in him, though. The needles with tubes that connected to a bag replenishing his fluids – Doctor had a fancy name for those. She did that job just fine.
Doris shouldn't have been taking care of anything more complex than a cactus tree, but I bet she'd neglect even that. I knew she was awful, but I guess I underestimated her habits. She was excellent when it came to the remedial chores. She could stitch a wound or cure a cold in minutes. It was the petty caretaking chores that was hard. No one could blame her for deeming them unpleasant, but they was just one of those things that had to be done. Even a Bondurant deserved proper treatment.
As I was saying, Forrest came round in the early morning as his younger brother sat bedside, cursing him for being so clumsy. I was enjoying my coffee when suddenly little Jack's cracking squawk of a voice was filling the corridors of the hospital and waking all of Rocky Mount with it. I came bounding into the room, angry that my morning ritual was disturbed, and that he was making such a ruckus when he knew the other patients were sleeping. I was damn ready to silence the madman with a slap upside the head.
Instead, Jack silenced as soon as he heard the stomp of shoes against the floor, and I skidded into the room, halting at the sight of open eyes, dark and staring down the length of the bed at me, blinking slowly in the dim glow of the oil lamp resting on the small bedside table. I tore my glare away and refocused it on Jack. "Are you dumb?" I snapped. "You'll wake the whole county yelling like that. Go fetch the doctor. Get!"
Jack ignored my insults, immediately scrambling around me and out the door. I bet he didn't even really hear a word I said, intent on obtaining the professional reassurance that his brother was just fine. Hell, if that's what he wanted, I could've told him that.
"Welcome back!" I told Forrest, stepping over to stand beside the bed. His gaze did not follow my movement. "Hey," I snapped my fingers in front of his face, and I was greeted with a flash of gray. "What's your name?" His brow began to furrow in a small scowl at the question, so I mirrored his face. "Don't look at me like that. Answer the question. What is your name?"
"Forrest," he said.
"Forrest what?"
"Bondurant."
"Good," I nodded, and then tried for a harder question. "Do you know my name?"
He peered up at me, eyes squinting against glow of the lamp. Must've been bright for him, after seeing darkness for two days. "Edna Ellsworth," he said, his voice a low mutter.
"It is," I confirmed. "Do you know where you are?"
"Hell," he grunted¸ and I looked down at the sound of rustling sheets to find him shifting his legs. Wasn't paralyzed. Smartass kept his wits. He was just fine.
I bit back a smile, and asked, "Do you remember what happened to you? You fell off a ladder…was you trying to commit suicide?"
Forrest did a double-take, and his scowl deepened to a glower, and I think I got my answer. Would have to tell the nurses later…definitely not a suicide attempt. He looked like he was trying to form words, when Jack returned with the Doctor in tow.
"I think he's all right, Doctor," I said, stepping out of the way as the elder man hurried to the center of the room, and pulled on a chain descended from the ceiling. Light filled the room with a click! and Forrest shut his eyes tight with a breathy groan.
"Forrest, do you remember what happened to you?" the Doctor spoke like he was trying to communicate with someone far away. He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned forward, prying Forrest's eyelids apart.
"I fell," Forrest said, attempting to turn away from the Doctor's grasp, eyelids fighting to close against the sharp, bright light.
"You did. You been unconscious for two days. Do you remember what you were doing when you fell?" The Doctor continued to pull Forrest's lids apart until he quit putting up a fight, and blinked until his eyes stopped rolling and fell into focus.
"Fixin' a leak," he finally said.
"Follow my finger, Forrest." The Bondurant's eyes moved side to side, up and down, in and out to mirror the Doctor's motions, and finally he sighed. "I'll be damned. Your brother seems all right, Jack. He's gon' be fine."
"O' course he is," Jack said with strong confidence, and I found myself shaking my head in amusement. Word about the Bondurants being immortal, I bet Jack just ate that right up. Especially now that he was a survivor himself.
"Edie, why don't you fetch Forrest some breakfast, and a pitcher of chilled water," the Doctor suggested as he motioned for Forrest to lift his arms straight up and hold them there. "You are one lucky son of a bitch, you know that?"
I could hear a familiar contemplative grumble as I grabbed Jack by the arm and pulled him out to assist me.
Little Jack had just arrived to pick Forrest up from the hospital at dusk the next day when I was leaving my shift. He came bounding up the steps as I scooted out the door, damn near running into me as he kept his eyes on the ground. I pushed into his chest with a shout to prevent a collision, and he froze, looking up with wide apologetic eyes. "Miss Edie!" he said, taking a few steps back. "Sorry – I didn't see you."
"I suggest watching what's ahead of you, instead of your feet," I said. "You be careful."
"Yes ma'am, sorry," he said, bowing his head, dark eyes peeking up at me as his body shifted restlessly. "My brother ready to go?"
I put my hands on my hips, tilting my head up to regard the baby Bondurant. Such an anxious young man, with so much love and adoration for his older brother. I bet it was a big honor, to be the one who got to pick Forrest up from the hospital and take him home. Certainly didn't want to disappoint, either. Seven o'clock is when we said he could come, and seven o'clock it was. "Just left him sitting in a chair, waitin'," I said.
Jack glanced up over the top of my head, and moved for a quick, polite departure at the word that his brother was waiting for him. He made a couple dips, and lifted his hat a few inches off his head as he scooted around me with a quiet, "Excuse me," and set off down around a corner and out of sight.
I shook my head with a sigh, and parted on my own trek, back home.
It was a straight shot from the hospital into town. Only had to travel the winds and bumps of one road, mostly uphill headed there, the building tucked into a property right off the side of the road, mostly downhill headed home. I was thankful for that. After a long day's work, travelling miles on an upward slant would have me welcoming death nightly. But downhill wasn't so bad. I walked along idly, kicking at the red dirt, dry and compacted to form a path that two automobiles could pass each other on comfortably. I could watch the sun set, see the stars pop up one by one, arriving on the edges of town right about the time a woman of Franklin County should be heading inside anyway. I don't really know why, but that's how it was. I suppose it was too dangerous to be seen at night, or too dangerous because of what you might see. Rocky Mount got real quiet and real loud all at the same time every night. It was a strange experience, to hear absolutely nothing for hours on end. Then, to be waken with a start in the early hours of the morn by the deafening roar of a succession of vehicles as they sped through the center of town, heading for the county lines. Bootleggers.
A couple nights, I'd sat up and waited for them, just out of my own curiosity, to see if I'd maybe recognize Jack, or Howard, or Forrest, or even ole Tom Cundiff, who I'd treated once for split knuckles and a shattered cheek bone. But those cars were moving so fast – I bet some of them were going seventy, easy. They all looked the same, too, and the people inside were nothing but shadows as they flew on by.
My thoughts were interrupted by an old Model TT wheeling past, wooden boards of the flatbed rattling as the wheels rolled against the rough, uneven terrain. I glanced up briefly, then returned to a calming state of introspection as I ducked a low-hanging tree branch, pushing the leaves aside with my hand. The sound of squealing brakes drifted to my ears soon after, and my eyes floated up to the TT now idling a few yards ahead of me.
I wondered if they were stopping for me, so I quickened my pace thank them for the small gesture of kindness. So many wanderers these days, looking to head somewhere different by any means necessary. People tended to pick up lone women on the side of the road more often than not. I remember hitchhiking from county to county without much trouble. Didn't even have to hold my hand out to most of them. They said it was dangerous, hitchhiking, but the folks I'd come across were hospitable enough.
I could see a crooked elbow clad in gray fabric hanging out the window, but the mirrors hanging off the side of the truck were drawn in at such an angle that I couldn't see a person inside. Before I'd even reached the passenger door, I heard a loud shout of "Miss Edie!"
Plastering a smile on my face, I addressed the two Bondurant brothers. "Where you headed?" Jack asked from behind the wheel. A glance at Forrest saw that he was watching me with a cool, impassive stare.
"Just down the road, into town."
"You livin' in them apartments?" At my verification, Jack continued, "Well hop on in back, and we'll give you a ride!"
"Jack…" Forrest kept his eyes on me, but his tone was low and drawn out in a subtle warning. At the sound of his name, the young Bondurant must've realized his mistake for courtesy, or rather lack thereof, and with a quiet oh!, shifted gears and hopped out of the cab, running around to the side I stood by as Forrest scooted over to take the place of the driver.
"Sorry, Miss Edie," Jack said as he opened the door for me, apologizing for the second time that night as I realized the decision to be chauffeured home had already been made for me.
"That's all right," I said, taking the hand he offered to me, warm and sweaty in my grip as I used it to help myself step up inside the raised cab. Once Jack saw me situated, he slammed the door closed, and a moment later the vehicle shook with the weight of him climbing in back. At the sound of a palm slapping the hood of the truck, Forrest shifted gears, and stepped on the gas pedal.
I didn't say anything to him, but I figured I should. A thank you, or something, for the ride. Only a few minutes had passed, and we were already halfway there – a walk that normally took me almost an hour. I kept my hands folded over the stiff pleats of my uniform, eyes out the window, wind whipping at my face as I addressed nature as it passed by in a blur. Forrest's gaze focused on the road and did not waver, both hands on the wheel, foot casually maneuveringbetween gas and brake at a smooth pace.
"Thank you," there, I said it. "For the ride."
"Ain't nothin'," he said, taking a sharp corner leisurely. I nodded slowly. Probably wasn't a good thing to be riding with a Bondurant. Two of them, even worse. But I pushed the thought away. It was a nice thing of them to do. In this day and age, those were rare, and one had to take advantage of them when they were presented. Didn't matter what it was. If it helped you in some way or another, you'd be nothing but a damn fool to refuse it. "You take care of me again?" Forrest's question drew me out of my daze, and I realized I'd been staring at the man.
"No," I said, quickly returning my gaze to the window. "You know old Doris was your nurse."
"But you were there."
I wondered what he was referring to. The morning he woke? "Jack was yelling. I was just a first responder," I explained.
"No," he said, capturing my attention yet again. He coasted down the remaining stretch of slope and cranked on the headlights as they entered the outskirts of town. The speed of the vehicle reduced to a crawl. "You were there…before. I swear it."
I don't know why I didn't just admit to assisting with Doris's duties, wasn't any kind problem or embarrassment to help a colleague with a patient. But with Forrest there accusing me of it, suddenly it became a taboo subject I didn't ever want brought up again. Apparently the Doctor was right when he said people in a coma could hear you when you talked to them. I talked to him all right. Done chat his ear off about anything and everything as I changed his rags and fluids. Sleeping Forrest was so much easier to talk to than any other Forrest. Best part was that he wouldn't remember any of it, or so I'd hoped.
I waved his notion away with the snarky remark that he must be as crazy as they say he is. "That, or you was dreaming about me."
Even in the dark, I could see the red fast creeping up his neck and ears, and he cleared his throat. He pulled to the side of the road, in front of a large rectangular building made of red brick, and I didn't realize we'd even stopped until he turned to look at me. "Thanks again," I said slowly, and he nodded sharply, redness blending into his cheeks. I turned to grasp the cool metal of the door handle, the truck rocking as Jack jumped out the back, and I hesitated, turning back to regard him briefly. "I don't want to see you at the hospital again," I told him, willing my heart to stop thumping so loudly in my chest. I was sure he could hear it by now.
Forrest gave a short grunt couple with another nod, and at that I turned, pushing the door open and sliding out. "Goodnight, Miss Edie," Jack tipped his hat as I passed him, but I kept my eyes to the ground.
"Goodnight Jack," I said lightly, fishing for my key in the pocket of my skirt. Behind me, a door slammed, but the motor still chugged a steady rhythm, at rest and waiting until I was safe inside the building.
"Forrest takes care of everyone, but who takes care of him? That is the central question of Lawless." -Tom Hardy
Sorry it's been a few days since an update - I went ahead and read The Wettest County In the World. Damn good. Damn good.
Wow, thank you all so much for the overwhelming support for this story. I appreciate it so, so much. Keep it up! I want to know how I'm doing, and what you all are looking forward to. I'm probably going to ask you help me analyze the man of the hour and this storyline pretty soon, like I did with my Warrior story. I just love hearing your opinions and your ideas/interpretations. I know you all are an insightful group of motherfuckers - that's why we all adore and take so much from a man that grunts and grumbles his way through the movie. I know you'll have some beautiful things to say.
Doing away with Maggie was an extremely popular intrigue, I noticed. We're going to go into far better detail with that in later chapters, but this was just the initial scrape while Edie didn't care so much about Bondurant personal business.
Thank you so much again for reading. I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am!
