Bill Hopkins - Judge Rosswell Carew 02 - River Mourn by Bill Hopkins Page B

sigh, then
closed her eyes halfway. In a low voice, she sang words that Rosswell couldn’t
decipher.
    When she finished her song—or, simply quit—Maman
rummaged through a pocket on her dress and pulled out a small gold,
five-pointed star, hanging on a black braid. “You.” She tossed the necklace to
Rosswell. “Much pain you have. Wear this always.”
    Rosswell ran his fingers over the flat and narrow
braid. Black silk. He obeyed Maman and slipped on the necklace, thinking that
even Maman was in on the new local jewelry fad. Or maybe she was the source of
it.
    After several minutes of silence, he concluded that the
conversation was over. He further inventoried the room. No crystal balls, no
cards, no incense, no Ouija board. Rosswell could contain himself no longer. “Maman,
are you a psychic?”
    Maman laughed down deep in her throat, recalling a
scene from The Exorcist . “No such thing. I got
eyes and I see. I got ears and I hear. I got nose and I smell. I got hands and
I feel. I got brain and I think. That’s all you need.” A fleck of spittle
settled on her chin, which she wiped away with a gnarled hand. “No psychic, me.
No God up above and no Devil down below. Using senses, me. You pay attention,
you.”
    Rosswell prayed that Maman and Mrs. Bolzoni would
never meet, certain that Mrs. Bolzoni wouldn’t appreciate Maman’s Frenchness.
    Maman rocked for many more minutes, the chair
creaking, Ollie kneeling beside her, Rosswell silent, waiting for anything
else.
    The dog woke up, retrieved the bone from the corner,
and dropped it behind Maman’s chair. Again, he regained his spot to finish his
nap.
    Eventually, Maman said, “You boys best be getting, you. Lazar,
you got tabac for my pipe?”

Rosswell and Ollie stood outside Maman’s door. Lazar had
disappeared.
    Rosswell said, “Her left thumbprint was blood red.”
    “Maybe she pinched it in a door.”
    “It was tattooed. Why?” Rosswell considered all he’d
heard. “ ‘Cave of one eye have much treasure. Cave of blind eye, she holds a
treasure but not what you seek,’ ” Rosswell quoted Maman. “I don’t understand
what went on in there. Are there two caves? Two treasures? Are we supposed to
seek the treasure in the cave of one eye but we’ll find a real treasure in the
cave of the blind eye but it won’t be what we seek? I’m confused.”
    “Omne ignotum pro magnifico.”
    “Sherlock Holmes said that. Everything unknown is magnificent.
That doesn’t explain anything. She’s an atheist fortuneteller?”
    Ollie stared at the closed door. “Maybe she’s never
read the Bible.”
    “ ‎ If
you believe the scriptures are the only source of knowledge about God, then you
have never witnessed a sunrise.” Rosswell fondled the braid of the necklace. “What’s
this all about?”
    “It’s soutache , an old-fashioned decorative
braid, sometimes used to cover a seam on a piece of clothing. The braid
represents earth. The star represents heaven.”
    “A seam? That’s where two pieces of something come
together. Is that what we’re searching for?”
    “I’m a lamb lost in the fog.”
    “More like a goat confused by the smog.” Rosswell
stroked the necklace. “I’ve seen a lot of these around lately. Must be like
mood rings. I’ll bet they sell them at every truck stop in the country.” The
necklace joined the crucifix that Father Mike Smothers—Mabel’s uncle—had gifted
him when he was in the hospital with a gunshot wound at the same time that Tina
was being treated for her wound.
    Two talismans. Hope one of them works. Preferably
both, but if only one works, I’ll be happy.
    “Uh-huh, mood rings.” Ollie rolled his eyes. “Anyway,
time to go find that cave. If Maman saw something, it must be around here,
somewhere on this bluff. Probably on the river side since we didn’t see any
caves on this side.”
    Rosswell spotted a flat place next to the cabin. Four
rows of rocks. He nudged Ollie. “A cemetery.”
    Ollie mouthed