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Elmyra stood silently, just staring. After an uncomfortable length of time, she snapped her fingers and pointed at me. “Come on, girls. Let’s lift him up.”
They swarmed me. A little hive of well-meaning, but absolutely terrorizing, God-fearing honeybees. My eyes bulged, and I raised my hands in front of me, trying to ward them off.
“I’m fine,” I pleaded. “I’m okay. Really. You don’t have to pray for me. There’s no need for—” Before I could finish my sentence, four sets of hands pressed across my arms, head, and back. Then it started. One by one, they began speaking in tongues, each of them switching between English and their imaginary celestial language.
Talking in tongues, my father had always said, was a gift from God. Something spoken when you entered a spirit-fueled trance. As a kid, it just sounded like mania. My father behind the pulpit, screaming out scripture. Men and women standing at the front of the church, hands lifted in praise, openly sobbing and speaking words I didn’t understand.
In front of me, the denim debutantes transported me back to my youth. Words likehumusandshantytownpassed through their lips as if they made all the sense in the world. At one point, it sounded like one of them had instructed me toget hit by a Hyundai.
As they prayed for my partially amputated tongue, Kate Lee stood behind the pharmacy desk, beaming ear to ear.
“Ladies,” Kate called out to them. “Would you mind if Kent skipped ahead of you? I have his medication here and the label says it has to be taken consistently. Don’t want him to lose the other half of his tongue, do we?”
The ladies’ chanting ceased, and they took a collective gasp. The next thing I knew, Elmyra was shoving me toward the counter, rubbing my back and whispering words of praise along the way. Once at the counter, she stepped back behind the white strip of tape on the floor that marked the front of the line. She had worked the entire situation in her favor, as she now stood next in line with no plan of returning to her original place.
“So,” Kate said, “oral cancer?”
I lowered my voice to a whisper. “I forgot how insane these people are. I barely spoke one word to her, and now I have cancer and I’ve lost half a tongue.”
“The boys back home must be devastated.” She chuckled, pulling a pre-packaged prescription from a drawer at her side, handing it to me. “How long are you back?”
“Just until I find something in the city. I was thinking maybe Dallas this time.”
She ran her fingers through her long brown hair. Her brown eyes gave her an almost doe-like appearance. She was wearing bubblegum-pink lip gloss that shined under the store’s harsh lighting, matching nothing she wore.
“Jeff’s office is based in Dallas. He telecommutes mostly, but he goes down once a week. He loves it. Keeps asking me about moving, but West Clark is home.”
“Jeff?”
Kate lifted her hand, displaying a modest wedding ring and a small tattoo of a dove above the nail on her index finger. I hadn’t been aware that she’d gotten married. In fairness, I knew little to nothing about the comings and goings of the citizens of West Clark. Truth be told, I was more taken aback by the tattoo than the ring. She’d always been pious as a child, never stepping over the lines drawn by the church.
“Kate Sanders now. Four years last August. He was in town visiting his grandmother. Came in to pick up her prescription and it was love at first sight.” She leaned against the counter, blowing a bubble with her gum. “Actually, it was lust at first sight.” She nudged her head to the left, toward a door with a sign that read,Employees Only.“Twice.”
“Good lord, Kate!” I blurted.
“He’s awfully good at talking with only half a tongue,” Myrna said to the rest of the denim debutantes.
“So, this Jeff guy. What does he do?” I asked, ignoring Myrna’s idiotic comment.
“He has an investment firm. Small deals, mostly. I don’t ask him too many questions. That kind of stuff just goes right over my head.”
Investments. Finance.My area of expertise. I ruffled my shoulders like a fabulous peacock, amping myself up to dazzle my way into a new career. “Listen, I’d love to meet him.” I placed my hand over my heart and grinned. “You were my first love; I have a moral obligation to make sure he’s worthy.”
“We both know that’s not true.” She took a deep breath, and her smile faded. I knew where the conversation was heading, and I wanted no part in it. “Have you seen him yet?”
“No,” I said, my eyes pleading for her to drop the subject.
“He was really torn up after you left.” Kate reached out, putting her hand on top of mine. “Moped around for a long time like a sad little puppy.”
“I try not to think about him.” Realizing how weak my voice sounded, I put a bit of heft behind my words and corrected myself. “Idon’tthink about him.” I looked up at her. She wasn’t buying it, but she didn’t press the issue.
“Tell you what. Tomorrow night. Me, you, Jeff. We can go to Shooters out on Highway 80.”
“That sounds great.”
“Shooters,” she said, handing me the bill. I looked down at it, shocked to see the place still had a running tab system. It was like walking into a time capsule. “Tomorrow. Eight o’clock.”
***
