need for it, but every little bit helps.”
“I had...a good run.”
“So you did. A very good one. Fine man, fine family, upstanding member of the church and community. I guess your work is finished.”
“You’ll check on my kids? Give them a call down the road...a piece?”
“I’ll tell them you insisted.”
“I’m not dying right yet. Not quite.”
“You’ve got it planned?”
“I...” Newt was silent for a little while, and Sam thought he might have drifted off again, but when he tried to release Newt’s hand, the old man opened his eyes.
“Jenkins...causing trouble.”
Sam couldn’t have been more surprised if Newt had just come back with eyewitness reports of heavenly hosts. “George? Why are you thinking about him?”
“Called last week. Calling all over.” Newt licked his lips. “Wants you fired. Trying his darnedest.”
“This is not something you should be worried about now.”
“You’ll watch out?”
“I promise.” Sam was deeply touched that in the last hours of his life, Newt was concerned for him. “It’s a good church with good people, Newt. You helped make it that way. That doesn’t mean there’s not an occasional snake in the grass, but I promise I’ll be careful where I step. Maybe I can sit down with George and have a real dialogue.”
“I didn’t know you believed...in miracles.”
Sam squeezed Newt’s hand. “What can I do for you, friend?”
“Will you say a prayer while I’m awake? I want to hear this one.”
* * *
On the way back to Adoncia’s house, Elisa took several detours. Having a car again was a heady experience. She hadn’t been able to fully explore the area where she lived and worked, but now that the opportunity had presented itself, she took full advantage. Like one of the many sightseers who came through on their way to and from Skyline Drive, she turned down unfamiliar roads, examining farms and the occasional family business that lay off the beaten path. Kennels and country veterinarians, eggs and handicrafts for sale, vineyards and nurseries.
The vineyards and nurseries interested her most. She knew men from Ella Lane often did day work in the surrounding area. They lined up early in the morning at certain locations, where they were chosen for assignments based on previous work they’d done, the breadth of their shoulders or simply their place in line. Sometimes they were paid under the table; sometimes checks were cut. Some employers paid fairly; some took advantage of the slow economy. Although the system was flawed and sometimes illegal, men who would not work otherwise were in no position to complain.
Near Woodstock, on a scenic side road, she slowed at the sign for Jenkins Landscaping. Diego had mentioned this as one of the places men often went to be hired by the hour. Now she realized the business belonged to George Jenkins, the man she had poured into the front seat of a pickup with this same logo so his son could take him home.
Diego himself had often worked here until he found a steadier job waterproofing basements. In the winter, Jenkins Landscaping employees plowed and removed snow and took down or pruned trees; in the summer, they mowed lawns and planted trees and shrubs. The amount of temporary help Jenkins needed each day depended on the weather and the demand for his services.
Since it was Sunday, no one was working or waiting outside, although several small dump trucks piled high with mulch waited in the driveway. She wondered how badly Jenkins’s head had ached Thursday morning, and if Leon had been forced to bear the brunt of his father’s bad temper.
She stopped once at a service station just outside Woodstock and parked beside a telephone booth she had used before. No one was nearby, exactly the condition she’d hoped for. She inserted the coins she’d gathered for the phone call and dialed a familiar number. When a woman answered, she spoke without preamble.
“It’s Elisa.”
She waited, swallowed disappointment, nodded as if the woman at the other end could see her. “Okay. I’ll talk to you again.” She hung up and stood a while staring across the street at a cow in a field who seemed to feel the phone booth needed to be watched.
She hoped only the cow found it so promising.
By the time she got to Adoncia’s, she was ready to rest, although with Fernando and Maria at home, that was probably not an option. She had not seen Adoncia since leaving with Sam yesterday. The family had gone on their outing with Diego and returned late, and they were already gone when Elisa, who tried to stay out of their way as they prepared for the day, got out of bed.
Now, as expected, when she walked through the door, she was tackled by both children.
“They are spinning like pinwheels,” Adoncia said. “We just got home. Nana Garcia fed them nothing but sugar all day.”
Elisa stooped and hugged them both. “Did you have a good day at work?” she asked her friend.
“If hacking chickens in pieces can be good work.” Adoncia, who looked exhausted, motioned toward the bathroom. “Will you watch them while I shower?”
“Of course.” Adoncia always took a shower when she got home to scrub away the smell of the poultry factory. The job was tiring and dangerous. The fast-moving line, sharp instruments and repetitive motion meant that many careers in poultry processing were short-lived.
Elisa played with the children until her friend came out of the bathroom looking a bit more refreshed. Adoncia fell to the sofa and towel-dried her hair. Fernando crawled up on her lap and laid his head against her chest.
“You had fun with Diego yesterday?” Elisa asked.
“We ate at a restaurant, went to a movie. The children were very good. Now, did you get the job? Is that why the minister was here yesterday? ¡Qué cuero de hombre!”
Elisa smiled at the description. Sam was remarkably easy to look at, and of course Adoncia had not failed to notice. “I’ll start training in the morning.”
“But you work at Shadyside tonight, don’t you? When will you sleep?”
“I won’t. But most of the time that won’t be a problem. Once I’m trained, I’ll have Mondays and Tuesdays off at the church, so my Monday night shift at the home won’t compete. And I’ll just have to sleep Friday afternoon after I’ve done whatever is needed at the church.”
“You think you can sleep here, with the children screaming?”
The lead-in was too good to waste. “Donchita, I’ve found a new place to live, with a woman in the church who needs a companion. She needs me; you need my room.” She held back her friend’s interruption with her hands. “It’s perfect. And now I have a car to drive, part of my pay for the job at the church.”
“You don’t have to leave. You know you don’t.”
“It’s
