Bound for the Outer Banks Page 2

  “Momma, we’ve got to go tell Mrs. Beauchamp!” Blythe shouted, which was the name her mother always called her. Hadley Beatty had never liked her daughter’s nickname coined by a preschool teacher at the First Presbyterian Church of Manteo. She politely asked the teacher to cease calling her “BeBe,” but all the toddling classmates had already dubbed Blythe “BeBe” and Blythe loved her “new name” as she referred to it.

  Harmony Beauchamp cringed every time anyone accompanied her to the run down cottage she called home. BeBe had never once commented on the fact that her friend’s home was virtually falling in on itself. There were holes in the front porch and random pieces of rotted lumber had fallen of the walls. The tin on the steep sloped roof of the Texas cottage had rusted but was still intact. Every time there was a downpour, Harmony fully expected it to begin showering inside the house.

  The kids on the bus had been cruel to Harmony and her sister Melody, taunting them with phrases like, “We’re at the Beauchamp shack!” and “The Beauchamp shack, where cooties attack!” Luckily a new bus driver took over the route when Harmony was in third grade. She sent notes home to all the children’s parents stating that “taunting of any of God’s children would not be tolerated” and if it continued she would expel them from the bus and the parents would have to get out of their pajamas and drive their ill-mannered Godless children to school. After one particularly ferocious, stout, frizzy headed middle schooler named Lizzy was promptly expelled from the bus for announcing to everyone that Harmony Beauchamp’s house wasn’t fit for her dogs, parents took note. The riot act was read to their children and the taunting finally ceased much to Harmony’s relief. Blythe had always sat on the bus with Harmony and hated what the other kids said. She had tried to stop it but then they turned on her as well calling her “cootie lover.”

  But on this day those taunts were the last thing on Harmony Beauchamp’s mind. She and BeBe half skipped and half ran up the gray sand drive to the house where the kudzu had begun to creep up the loose balusters on one side of the porch. Since Mrs. Beauchamp had up and left no one kept the growth of the kudzu in check. No spring flowers had been planted either. Although the cottage was in great disrepair, Myrna Beauchamp had always grown flowers from seed, since that’s all they could afford, to add some semblance of beauty to an otherwise depressing spectacle of wood rot, rust, and scrub brush.

  Harmony ran to the tattered screen door, flung it open, and found her younger sister, Melody, putting water on to boil for a head of cabbage. Harmony grabbed her sister and twirled her around yelling, “I made it!” Melody began to shriek and jump up and down holding hands with her sister. Horace Beauchamp exited from his bedroom where he’d been napping since he was always fishing for his livelihood when the sun came up.

  “What’s all this racket out here?” He asked.

  Harmony approached her father while Melody and BeBe stayed in the kitchen clearly worried about his reaction to what they considered glorious news.

  Harmony said cautiously, “Daddy, I made cheerleader.”

  “Well, good for you but won’t that cost a lot of money?” Horace sputtered, clearly annoyed.

  “I don’t think so,” answered Harmony. “except for maybe paying for my uniform.”

  “Well, we barely have enough money for food since ya Momma runned off. Not that she made much at the Food World, but it helped.”

  “But Daddy,” protested Harmony. “Please, this is really important.”

  Horace retorted, “More important than eatin’? Go cry to your Momma. The answer is no.”

  Ever since Myrna Beauchamp had run off with a door to door salesman hawking life insurance, Horace had been bitter and took out his anger on his two daughters who looked remarkably like their mother.

  The salesman would come by and woo Myrna at the grocery store where she was a check out lady. When Myrna confided in him that had she not gotten pregnant with Harmony and married Horace Beauchamp, she would have liked to have moved to Nashville and tried her hand at making it as a singer. Myrna wrote her own songs and would serenade Horace and the children as she made supper every night. The shifty salesman convinced Myrna he had a brother in Nashville in the recording business and she walked out of Food World one day with Lindy Maddox, convinced that she would become a star and come back to get Harmony and Melody to live in her fine home in Nashville. Lindy took his time getting to Nashville and stopped in various and sundry cheap motels along the way, all the while painting pictures of his brother’s recording studio and rubbing elbows with producers and famous recording artists on a daily basis to the naïve Myrna.

  It was late at night when the runaway lovers arrived on the outskirts of Nashville. Lindon announced he was out of cigarettes and that he was going to a convenience store up the road. After three hours Myrna Beauchamp knew the jig was up for her and Lindon and any dreams of becoming a star and pulling her daughters from the grips of poverty were now over. She took some meager earnings she had hidden in a dress pocket and bought a bus ticket to Raleigh where her sister lived. The last Harmony heard of her mother was that she had “taken to the bed” and tried to numb her pain of betrayal and lost hope with large tumblers of straight Wild Turkey Bourbon. Horace’s death threats if she pursued custody of their children had put an end to the thought of ever seeing her girls again anytime soon.

  BeBe and Melody saw tears dripping from Harmony’s cheeks as she stared blankly at the place where her father had just stood. BeBe knew offering to use some of her birthday and Christmas savings to purchase Harmony’s cheerleading uniform was useless. Harmony refused charity of any kind, even from the local church and certainly her best friend.

  At that moment BeBe got an idea. The next Saturday BeBe told Harmony to wear a bikini under her clothes and pack her school bag with a lunch for them. BeBe told her they were heading to the large library in New Bern to do research for their big end of the year Social Studies project. Harmony asked, “What social studies project?”

  “Just do it,” answered BeBe. Two hours later Hadley dropped off the girls at the steps of the library with their book satchels stuffed with what she assumed were text books and paper, and headed to the New Bern Senior Care Home to visit her grandmother. Hadley liked to stay fresh in her grandmother’s mind for inheritance purposes.

  Harmony had yet to inquire about the cryptic demand from BeBe. “Come on,” said BeBe as she ran down the steps of the public library that they had just ascended while Hadley waved goodbye.

  “Where are we going?” asked Harmony.

  BeBe didn’t answer as she led the way down two city blocks to the five and dime store. She pulled a galvanized bucket from the shelf and shoved it at Harmony. She then took a double pack of large sponges from the shelf above it. “Come on.” BeBe led Harmony to another aisle and grabbed dishwashing liquid.

  “What are you getting this for?” Harmony asked.

  “Do you want to be a cheerleader or not?” asked BeBe.

  “Of course,” said Harmony, “you know I do.”

  “Exactly, that’s why you’re going to do what I say and not ask questions,” BeBe said with a sly smile.

  The girls left with their purchases and BeBe led Harmony down a side street to an enormous apartment complex where she promptly removed a garden hose form her satchel. “This thing weighs a ton!” exclaimed BeBe.

  Harmony looked at BeBe skeptically. “You had a garden hose in there?”

  “Just listen,” said BeBe. BeBe then instructed Harmony to place their school bags behind the first apartment building at the edge of the woods. Harmony had learned not to question Blythe Beatty when she was damned and determined to do something and it was clear to Harmony that this was one of those times.

  BeBe’s cousin Eileen had lived in this complex after she informed her mother that she was sick of learning and was not about to go through another four years of it. Her mother was horrified at her daughter’s decision not to go to college. Eileen got an apartment at the Bent Bro
ok apartment complex and a job in a local diner where after about six months she met a naval officer she later married and with whom she was now traveling the world. Eileen would brag about the “amenities” of Bent Brook apartments which included a pool with a spigot where you had to wash your feet so as not to dirty up the pool before you got in.

  BeBe screwed the garden hose on to the end of the spigot. “Take off your clothes,” she demanded, motioning to Harmony.

  “What?!” asked Harmony completely bewildered at what was about to happen.

  “Did you wear your bathing suit?” asked BeBe .

  Harmony answered playfully, “Yes, as you instructed Master.”

  BeBe smiled with relief that Harmony had followed her instructions, “You’d do well to trust and obey,” said BeBe citing and singing the old familiar hymn that the Manteo First Presbyterian choir director had the congregation sing three Sundays a month, minimum.

  “That’s up for debate,” Harmony said snarkishly as she peeled off her jeans and T-shirt revealing a blue and green polka dotted bikini.

  BeBe sprayed Harmony with a blast of water. Harmony screamed as the cold water hit her skin. “What are you doing BeBe?”

  “Making you look sexy, although it’s a challenge,” BeBe said sarcastically.

  Harmony demanded, “You need to tell me what’s going on!”

  “Here comes a car…..YES! Navy guy!” BeBe exclaimed.

  New Bern was home to a naval communication station and the Bent Brook apartment complex housed a large majority of the naval personnel. BeBe started jumping up and down spraying the hose up in the air over her head creating a fountain effect. “Car Wash! Two dollars!” she yelled toward the car.

  The vehicle pulled up and the young man rolled down the window. “She could really use a wash, ladies.”

  The handsome sailor got out of the car and leaned on the fence that enclosed the pool area. He smoked a cigarette while he watched BeBe and Harmony clean his small sports car. They playfully squirted one another with the hose and laughed and giggled noting they were being intensely observed. When they felt they had rinsed the car and themselves sufficiently the young man handed each one a dollar bill. “Now that’s the best wash she’s had in a while ladies.”

  BeBe and Harmony looked down at the money and squealed with delight. BeBe snatched away Harmony’s dollar, folded the two together, and placed them securely in her bathing suit top. The customer raised his eyebrows, and while shaking his head got into his car and headed for his apartment.

  BeBe shouted, “Eighteen dollars to go!”

  “You’re brilliant!” yelled Harmony.

  “Hey, we just have to use what the Good Lord gave us which isn’t much in your case,” BeBe said, staring Harmony’s perky but small breasts.

  “You’re no Dolly Parton yourself,” replied Harmony.

  “But I’m closer than you,” smirked BeBe .

  Harmony sprayed BeBe with the hose just as another one of America’s finest rounded the entrance into Bent Brook.

  Chapter 3

  Ella was never told in advance where she was being relocated. Apparently the officers in charge of getting her to the new destination were never told either until they were in their vehicle. The Sacra Corona Unita’s reach was far and since bribery and corruption were their specialty, the feds were mum until the last minute in case one of the agents transporting Ella offered her up for a sum of money many times more than what they could earn in a lifetime of law enforcement.

  After Ella and her big vintage suitcase were placed into the backseat of the black Dodge Charger, which was confiscated during a multi-million dollar cocaine bust, she rested her head on the back of the seat. She was used to seeing the officer divided into octagonal patterns caused by the steel mesh separating the front and back seats. Ella noticed that the sports car had been modified to be like a typical police cruiser in the back. The seats had been reupholstered with a hard plastic. She had deduced that this was due to the variety of human body fluids that so often ended up on them. She concluded that the backseat of the vehicle came from the factory much lower than the front seats like police cruisers since it was a sports car and backseat comfort was not really factored into the equation of performance.

  She felt like her ass was sitting directly on the asphalt not just because of how low the seat was but also due to the hard synthetic covering which was pressing through her skin to her tailbone. Besides the fact that police cars were equipped with low slung backseats to prevent a suspect from lunging at the officer when the door was opened, Ella assumed there was a psychological component as well. Knowing you’ve been busted for whatever reason and now your captors seemed to be towering over you while you sit handcuffed with your knees under your chin must seem pretty demeaning. She laughed when she turned back and saw the raised trunk of the sports car looking clampettesque held down with bungee cords. The trunk held an aqua bicycle that she would use for transportation at her next destination. As if a blacked out Dodge Charger approaching a town wasn’t suspicious enough, the addition of a girlie bike complete with handlebar basket tied down in the trunk would surely have tongues wagging. Like her alias, Belle Butler, she wondered about these things thought up by men back at The Bureau in Washington.

  Ella glanced over at the old brown Finnegan’s of London suitcase sitting on the seat beside her. The sight of it always comforted her when she was being hauled to another town trying to stay a step ahead of anyone trying to take her out before she testified against Dante and possibly incriminating even more of the higher ranking clan members. The suitcase had been given to Ella at her sweet sixteen party. When Ella opened it she was moved to tears because the vintage piece was her mother’s pride and joy.

  When BeBe left Roanoke Island, North Carolina, she’d packed everything she held dear into “Old Finnegan”, the nickname she’d given the thick leather case. Whenever BeBe was reminiscing she’d often say, “Old Finnegan and I stayed there a while.” Old Finnegan was an old, box shaped case with scratches, moisture stains, and battered edges. Whenever Ella would plead with her mother to buy something to replace “that hideous, ugly thing,” BeBe would respond, “Finnegan’s not ugly, he’s just well-traveled like me.”

  In its time the case would have been considered a status symbol. Finnegan’s of London was considered one of the finest makers of luxury cases in the early nineteen hundreds. BeBe’s grandmother had gifted it to her along with the advice, “Sugar, see the world before you get bogged down with a bunch of babies.”

  Grandma Lavinia had always been candid to a fault. BeBe liked this in her grandmother although some people talked about Lavinia and her “acid comments.” One day when BeBe was twelve, she overheard some ladies in the reception hall at church talking about Lavinia and how “tactless” she could be. Blythe Beatty marched to the center of the circle the ladies had arranged themselves in and said, “My grandma might say what she thinks but at least she does it to everyone’s face. You ladies say the same things and worse. You just do it behind people’s backs. I would rather grow up and be tactless like my grandmother than just end up being a straight up bitch like you ladies.”

  BeBe ran back up the stairs to the sanctuary to quickly ask God to forgive her for saying the “B” word, but she did not ask forgiveness for calling a spade a spade.

  The day BeBe bestowed Finnegan to Ella had been one of the best days of Ella’s life. Joseph Barrantine had arranged for a horse-drawn carriage to pick up Ella in front of their Bushwick Avenue brownstone. Ella felt like a princess in her long teal chiffon dress as she mounted the side step of the carriage assisted by the driver in his dapper vest and knickers. As the carriage, with Ella and the two most important people in her life, approached Water Street she could see the lights of the River Café coming in to view. She gave her parents a broad smile since Saturday nights at the River Café had to be booked months in advance.

  The River Café was enclosed in glass assuring everyone would have a stunning
view. It was a small building nestled under the Brooklyn Bridge with sweeping views of the Manhattan skyline. Ella also loved the fact that one also had the perfect view of Lady Liberty.

  The carriage came to a halt at the edge of the cobblestone courtyard in front of the café’s entrance. Little white lights were wrapped up and around the trees lining the courtyard. The driver hopped down from his perch on the red velvet driver’s bench and he extended his hand to Ella. He said in an accent Ella could not quite place, “I hope you have a most wonderful evening.” Then he lightly kissed the back of her hand and swung back up into the driver’s seat. Joseph and BeBe wrapped their arms around one another’s waists watching their only child gracefully stride through the lit courtyard like a princess attending her first royal ball.

  At the end of the courtyard was a small arched bridge above the water also covered in tiny, white lights. Before Ella reached the large, arched wooden door, Joseph passed in front of her and opened the it. “My lady,” he said as he opened the door.