No ‘Moore’ Mess- Chapter Four (Serial Version)
Chapter Four- Mary (Moore) Neeley Gets Paid
“What? Where? Someone? Anyone? Help me.”
“Ms. Neeley please be still. You are lucky to be alive. By the way, someone would like to see you. That is if you feel up to it.”
“Okay I guess.”
“Hey moron! Are you okay or what?”
Mary turned towards the familiar voice coming from her hospital room door. It was Jackie. She gave her an angry scowl. It was a look she had seen a 1000 times before today.
“Do I look okay to you?”
Jackie didn’t answer. She waddled like a penguin. Jackie’s eyes turned towards the baseball game on the TV that hung above the bed.
“What’s the score?”
Mary huffed and turned away. Jackie took a step forward. The bruises on Mary’s face told Jackie all she needed to know about what happened to her wife.
“They did quite the number on you, didn’t they?”
“Looks like I’m gonna need some help for a while.”
“About that. It’s just I’m not really the Florence Nightingale type, you know?”
Mary could see where this was going. She mustered up the strength she had left in her for the day. It was clear now why her wife was here, but Mary wanted to hear it from Jackie.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a nurse.”
“Please Jackie don’t do this to me now. I’m begging you. Please don’t do this.”
Jackie walked towards the door. Jackie shook her head, and she sighed. Jackie was done with Mary and her marriage.
“You take care, Mary, you hear?
“Take care, right.”
Two weeks later a ‘Dear Jane’ letter and divorce papers came via courier to Mary in the hospital. Mary opened the envelope. Her spirit was crushed when she saw a final note from Jackie.
“Mary, sign the forms at the bottom. Best of luck to you. Love always, Jackie.”
Mary stayed in that sad, little hospital room alone for days. Mary would not see Jackie again in the hospital. She sent the final divorce decree to her two months later. Jackie gave Mary the house, but she took their savings. Mary was penniless.
Two weeks later, Mary was in tears on her hospital bed when a woman walked in her room. She was a tall figure in a grey suit, and she meant business. The woman pulled out a stack of white documents and shuffled them in her hands. She cleared her throat and stepped towards Mary’s bedside.
“Excuse me, Ms. Neeley, my name is Francie Strayer. I represent the Little K Company.”
“You’re a lawyer?”
“That is correct.”
“What do you want with me?”
“Ms. Neeley, the Little K Company would like to tell you how very sorry we are about your recent incident in our store’s parking lot. We would like to offer you our deepest sympathy and some compensation.”
“Compensation?”
“We are ready to offer you a fair sum to compensate you for your trouble.
“You mean money?”
“Yes.”
Mary’s eyes opened wide. She sat up in bed for the first time in days. The lawyer’s eyes closed as a little smile spread across her face. She knew she was going to get what she had come for today from Mary.
“We are prepared to pay for all your medical bills and a little something extra for your pain and suffering.”
“How much are we talking?”
“$27,500. I have the check right here. If you’ll just sign these documents. We can settle this matter today.”
“Got a pen?”
“I do.”
Mary should have known better. She signed several pages of documents. The paperwork included provisions to not sue the company. Mary didn’t know it, but she could have taken the Little K for millions of dollars.
Mary didn’t care. As she held that check in her trembling hands, she felt like the richest woman in the world. Mary had never seen so much money in her life. The slick lawyer was most happy to complete her business. She nodded to Mary as she put her pen back in her jacket pocket.
“Thank you, Ms. Neeley. You take care of yourself.”
The lawyer left after buying a hot, black coffee with a smile and an extra bounce in her sexy step. Mary’s thoughts drifted back to her sorry life. The morphine drip from the nurse sent her back into dreamland.
The doctors released Mary from the hospital about a month later. The staff called her a taxi to take her back to her apartment. Nobody was willing to help her at home. Mary spent the first few days in her house alone. She finally got a visitor one rainy afternoon. It was Wendy, her co-worker from the Little K.
Wendy lived at home with her parents, and she was in the mood to get high. Mary had a house, and it made doing drugs easier. The pair was happy to see each other.
The women shared the latest gossip about the women at the Little K as they took turns smoking a joint. Wendy pulled out a brown bottle from her purse when the weed ran out. Mary moved in for a closer look.
“What’s that?”
“This is called Green. It’s heaven in a bottle I say.”
“Does it work?”
“Baby, it’s fantastic. But don’t take my word for it. Why don’t you try it.”
Mary wiped off the bottle as if sanitary conditions mattered. She took a good, long drink. Her bloodshot, brown-colored eyes opened wide. The drug and Mary were lifelong, lost soulmates.
“That’s amazing.”
“It’s really something, ain’t it?”
“Where’d you get it from?”
“I got a guy on the other side of town, name’s Mitch. He’s always wearing a big, old, nasty yellow hat.”
Mary took another long swig from the bottle. She wiped the Green off her lips with her fingers. Mary licked them like greasy, fried chicken.
“Hmm. What’s something like that run you?”
“A bottle will set you back $20. But it sure is worth it. Here let me give you Mitch’s address.”
“Thanks.”
The next day Mary got out of her house for the first time in weeks. She drove across town. The address was in a bad part of the city. She got out of the car and searched for Mitch. Mary knew she found him when she saw him wearing the god-awful yellow hat.
Mary stepped towards him and introduced herself. She was nervous. Mary was a troublemaker in her youth, but she was no criminal. This was about to change.
“Name’s Molly Jensen.”
Mary had no idea why she was using an alias. It was not like she was famous. Mitch was unconvinced of her identity, but he didn’t care.
“Hey, there Molly, is it? What can I do for you today?”
“I’m looking for something with a little color.”
“Green?”
“That’ll do just fine.”
There was a swift exchange of an Andrew Jackson for a little brown bottle. Mary made daily visits to Mitch for the next year. She was hooked. Mary never returned to work at the Little K.
The manager fired her over the phone for not showing up for a month. Mary didn’t care about that. Once she blew her money on drugs and online shopping sprees, the bill collectors came knocking on her door. They were not there on social calls.
A repo man came and took her car in the middle of the night. The next week a banker with a police officer in tow kicked her out of her house. Mary spent the next three years at the local homeless shelter. Her addiction cost Mary a warm place to sleep.
The homeless shelter had a zero tolerance policy for drugs. The staff found some Green in Mary’s bag, and they tossed her out. She ended up hitchhiking to Helen’s house. Mary knocked twice on the door. She saw a figure move behind it.
“It’s you.”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“What can I do for you?”
Helen knew. It took one look at Mary to realize she was in a desperate situation. Mary saw Helen was not happy to see her at her door. Mary coughed and stammered as she made her plea.
“I was hoping I could — ”
“You could, what exactly?”
“Stay with you for a day or two. Things have been rough for me lately.”
Mary’s let out a soft grunt and threw up her hands. Helen had more than enough on her plate with Erica and Nancy. Helen was about to slam the door in Mary’s face when Nancy came to the door.
“Mommy, who’s that?”
“That’s your Aunt Mary. Nancy, you go on back and play with your dolls, okay?”
“Yes, mommy.”
“She’s adorable, sis. You must be very proud.”
“Yes, I am. Thanks. Not that you have been around to see her.”
Helen was angry about Mary not coming to the hospital to see her when Nancy was born. The delivery was long and painful for Helen. Mary was nowhere to be found when things got tough for someone in their family.
“Sorry about that. I had a lot going on.”
“I know. You always have something going on, don’t you?”
Mary felt guilty. She had meant to stop by to see Nancy. Mary was full of excuses, but she pressed on with the conversation. She knew it best to change the subject.
“How’s Erica?”
Helen’s eyes looked at the floor. It was obvious Erica was not doing well. Mary regretted asking the question.
“Same. They took her out of the coma awhile back. But she never woke up.”
Mary wanted to hug her sister, but Helen pulled from the attempted embrace. Mary settled for patting her sister on the shoulders. Mary pried into Helen’s personal affairs. It was in Mary’s nature to be nosey.
“Still in that hospital?”
“They moved her to a rehabilitation facility.”
“That’s something positive, right?”
“I guess.”
Mary could see Helen was not interested in talking about Erica. That is all Helen did most days with any number of doctors, colleagues, and people who knew about Erica. Mary turned the conversation to a more pressing matter. She needed a place to stay.
“Sorry to hear that. What about me?”
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea at the moment. I got my hands full here.”
“Come on. Just a day or two. A week at most. It’ll be great. I promise.”
It took some convincing. Mary promised she could help out with Nancy. Helen knew an extra pair of hands with an active two and a half year-old in the house would help. It was the end of the academic year. Helen had tons of essays to grade.
“All right. A day or two. A week at most. But that’s it, okay?”
“That’s wonderful. Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.”
“Or what this does to me.”
A day turned into more than a year of Mary living in Helen’s home. Mary helped with Nancy. Helen’s promotion to full professor made pushing Mary out the door a problem for everyone. Nancy took a liking to Mary.
Helen knew Nancy was happy. This made it easier for Helen to go to work every day. Helen lent Mary Erica’s old car. Mary was shocked.
“Really? I can drive it?”
“You cannot be walking around with Nancy. It’s getting too cold for that.”
Mary could run errands and go shopping. Helen made Mary promise she would not do drugs. Mary was eager to show Helen she was a changed woman.
“I’m done with drugs. I promise. Me and drugs. Never again.”
“I hope that’s true. You know there’s only so many chances a person gets in life.”
Mary gave a good effort in staying off drugs. She was not a complete angel. A bottle of bourbon whiskey hid under her bed. She drank it in the middle of the night.
Mary figured Helen had no idea, but Helen knew. She said nothing about it. Helen let drunk sleeping dogs lie. The pangs of drug addiction got the best of Mary one day while she was out with Nancy.
Mary made the drive over to a familiar address. Mitch was waiting. He was wearing the same God-awful yellow hat. It was difficult for Mary not to laugh at the monstrosity every time she saw him.
“You got it?”
“Depends on if you got it? Getting to paradise ain’t free. You know?”
Mary reached in the back pocket of her faded blue jeans, and she pulled out a $20. She unfolded it, and she held it out for Mitch. He laughed.
“Now it’s $40.”
“$40!”
Mary was angry. Mitch was unmoved. He held up four, Green-goo-covered fingers.
“Bad economy. You know how it is? Gotta keep the lights on.”
“Fine. $40. But this is the last time.”
“Sure. That’s what they all say. You’ll be back. They always come back.”
Nancy screamed in the back of the car. She wanted to go home. This annoyed Mary, and she snapped at Nancy.
“Can you shut up for one second? I’m almost done.”
Nancy pulled on the back of Mary’s shirt. Mary slapped her hands, and Nancy screamed. She was her mother’s daughter.
“Now! I’m hungry.”
“Can you quit with that crap? We’ll go in a minute.”
Nancy unbuckled her car seat. She slid down in the back of the car. She was small, but she had the ‘Moore’ anger in her something fierce.
“Now! Home! Go!”
“Get back in the car seat.”
Mary’s lecture was interrupted by the sound of multiple police car sirens. The riffraff in the area scattered like ants. Mitch grabbed Mary’s money, and he turned to run.
“Cops! I’m outta here.”
“Mitch, gimme my bottle!”
Mary snatched the bottle of Green from Mitch’s hand, and she drove off. Mary intended to wait until they got back home to take a swig, but the stress of escaping while waiting at a long, red light was too much. Mary chugged half the bottle.
She put the cap back on the bottle, and she threw it on the passenger’s side of the floor. The signal turned. Nancy screamed from the backseat. Mary looked in the rearview mirror. She glared at the terrified girl.
“I’m going as fast as I can. Can’t you see that we’ll be home in a minute?”
“Look out, Aunt Mary!”
There was a loud crash. Terrible screams echoed over the area. The scene turned tense on the street as a big crowd gathered to see the spectacle.
“Nancy! Are you okay?”
“Come on, baby! Breathe! Please.”
When the police arrived on scene, they found Mary slumped over the steering wheel. Nancy was wedged between the backseat, a bump to head and a broken arm for her trouble.
Mary had only a moment to enjoy the fact Nancy survived the horrific crash. The police slapped a pair of handcuffs on Mary. They shoved her head-first into a black and white police cruiser.
The police found the bottle of Green under the back seat. They got a court ordered blood test at the hospital. A month later Mary received the bad news at her court hearing.
Her public defender tried to plea-bargain her charges down to simple possession, but the amount of drugs in the big bottle fit ‘intent to distribute’ and Nancy’s well-publicized injuries didn’t help Mary’s cause. The judge wanted to look tough on drugs.
It was an election year. He sentenced Mary to 21 months in the county jail. The local jail population was overflowing.
Mary was released to a halfway house after serving just a year for her crime. Many people in the conservative community were angry. Some folks were not going to let Mary forget what she did.
A few people harassed her every chance they got. Mary wanted to leave the area, but the terms of her probation would not allow it. Mary wished she could disappear. Her sister had the same desire for her troubled sibling.
Helen was grateful Nancy was alive, but she was done with Mary. Helen threw Mary’s tattered belongings out on her front lawn. Mary never bothered to pick it up.
Helen eventually paid a neighbor $50 to haul it to the local dump. Once Mary and her junk were out of Helen’s life, she realized she needed childcare for Nancy. Helen looked for someone reliable, trustworthy, and cheap. But there was nobody.
Out of options, Helen called Roberta. But she didn’t answer. It was another voice she had not heard in some time.
“Hello. This is Pastor Andrew.”
“It’s Helen.”
“Yes I know who this is.”
“Anyway is Roberta there?”
“No, she’s up in the hospital. Not doing so well these days.”
“Heart?”
“The doctor said there’s not much more that can do. She’s going to hospice. She’s got a week at most.”
Roberta fought a good fight and lasted another month. She died on a Sunday morning. Helen was left to break the news to everyone in the family. She made the long drive to a not so familiar place.
“Hello.”
“Helen?”
“Yes.”
“It’s great to see you.”
“Listen, I wouldn’t bother you except that. It’s Roberta. She’s — ”
“She’s what?”
“Gone.”
“Gone where?”
The look on Helen’s face told Mary everything she needed to know. Roberta was dead. The sisters stared at each other. Neither one moved. Mary took a step towards Helen, and they embraced. It was as if they were young again.
“I suppose we will have to plan a funeral.”
“Andrew won’t be much help with that.”
“You’re going to go, right?”
“I don’t know, you?”
“Probably have to go. Looks bad if we don’t.”
“We sure don’t need any more shame on the family.”
“Family. Is that what we are?”
“I hope so. I’d like that. A lot.”
“It’s a little late for all that, don’t you think?
“Blood is blood after all.”
“But only to a point. Even shared DNA has a shelf life.”
Both women longed for the days when they were close. There was no love lost between the pair to be sure, but Mary more than Helen hoped for some measure of reconciliation. She wished for them to come together as sisters, but it was not to be at this moment.
Helen had her hands full with Erica and Nancy. She was grateful that Mary took the lead in planning the funeral. No way Helen had time to do it.
The funeral was fine. They dressed up Roberta in her favorite little blue dress. Scott, the local funeral director, did an amazing job making her look lifelike.
Members of Pastor Andrew’s congregation gathered to say their goodbyes. Mary sang her mother’s favorite song. The sisters rode back together in an old black caddy after the funeral service.
“I guess, that’s it, right?”
“I suppose so. It’s for the best.”
“We could try to — ”
“Fix it? No we can’t.”
They say “time heals all wounds,” but sometimes there are not enough years in a lifetime. Helen got out of the car. She jumped in her vehicle without a final goodbye to Mary. Helen made the long drive home in record time.
Mary opened the pink and white door to her government-funded apartment. A strong breeze slammed it shut behind her back. Mary took it as a sign from Roberta that she was closing more than a door in her life.
