Chapter 29
Grant: Down on the Corner
“Stu is what?” I’m not sure I heard what I think I heard so I ask her to repeat it.
“Tell us what happened, Mrs. Beasley.” Terri takes over. She pulls Mrs. B. down to the curb, sits her down and takes her hand. I notice Terri has slipped back into the role of treating Mrs. B. like a dotty old lady.
I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit. I don’t want to be the hero anymore. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to do this. I want to run, run, run until I’m out of Greener Valley and maybe three towns over and then catch a bus to nowhere in particular, get a hotel – I pat my back pocket to make sure my wallet is still there – and read about Greener Valley’s psychic implosion in the news the next day while I sip room service coffee and pretend I’ve never set foot in this town.
I can’t do that, can I? I can’t leave Terri and Mrs. B. I can’t leave my house, or what’s left of it. I can’t leave whoever else might be alive and normal out there. What would Han Solo do? Oh, fuck that. What is Grant going to do?
“And then he had a heart attack. Right there in front of me. He just dropped dead in a pile of snack cakes. Oh, poor Stu.”
I need Mrs. Beasley to not go back to being this morning’s Mrs. Beasley. I need her to be the new, improved Mrs. B. Or maybe the old Mrs. B. I don’t know. I wish I knew. I wish I took time to get to know some of my neighbors better instead of locking myself in the house almost constantly since I moved back from L.A. I wish I knew more of Mrs. Beasley than the fact that she can read people. I mean, that’s a lot to know about someone. It’s a weird thing to know about someone. But I don’t know anything else and therefore I don’t know if right now I’m dealing with someone who is having a breakdown or someone who is just being herself.
“Hey, Mrs. B.” I sit down next to her. I take her hand, just like Terri did. You know what I just realized? I lived down the block from you my whole life. Well, except for when I didn’t. And I don’t even know your first name. You’re just Mrs. B. to me.”
“Isn’t that odd, Grant? We like to think in Greener Valley that we are this lovely small town where everybody knows your name but guess what? We know each other’s business. We know each other’s secrets. But we don’t always know each other’s names.” I’m looking her in the eye and I see something in there. A sadness? Resignation?
“Belinda,” she says. “My name is Belinda.”
“Belinda,” I repeat. “Well, I’m still gonna call you Mrs. B., but at least I know now.”
She smiles, stands up.
“Don’t we have a town to save?”
I guess we are dealing with Saturday afternoon Mrs. B. again. I’m relieved. Saturday morning Mrs. B. will just get us killed. Or worse.
I start walking across the street to the gas station. I need pay my respects to Stu McLundy.