The Good Morrow Read online

  Chapter 11

  I

  Foster sat gazing at the portrait of Annabelle, when he was startled by the voice of the receptionist, who had entered the room behind him.

  “Mr. Abernathy, Mrs. Coleman will see you now.”

  “Ah.”

  He followed her through the hall towards the library.

  Ruthie looked up from her desk as Foster enters her office.

  “Come in. Sit down, Foster.”

  He sits opposite her.

  “Welcome back. You’re looking well.”

  “Why thank you, Ruthie. You’re looking well situated yourself.”

  “I was delighted to hear how effective the treatment was at Sunnyside.”

  “Yes, I’ve been meaning to thank you for everything you did for me… making the arrangements and all.”

  “Well I’m glad to hear that. I was afraid you might harbor some sort of resentment.

  “Not at all. You did what you thought was best. How’s business?”

  “Things are going quite well. You’ll be getting a quarterly statement in a few weeks. We’ve already sold thirteen lots, and the shops in the hotel arcade are all leased – except one. The eyeglass boutique has backed out.

  “That’s just grand.”

  “I’m quite pleased.”

  “What can I do?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Now that I’m back, I want to make myself useful.”

  “Well that’s real thoughtful of you, Foster. And I’m sure it would be good for you to have something to do.”

  Her mind was scrambling to come up with some way to keep Foster out of her hair.

  “I’m not sure what would be the best position for you, but I’ll just have to put on my thinking cap and see what we can come up with.”

  “I thought perhaps I could manage the hotel or the restaurant.”

  “Yes, well, I believe the people for those positions are already set.”

  The intercom buzzed, and Ruthie picked up the phone.

  “Yes?. .Thank you.”

  She punched another line on the phone and spun around in her chair turning her back on Foster.

  “Gerald, I was just going to call you. It must be E.S.P. I’ve talked to Sam Halloway about Marvin, and he says it’s all a lot of hooey. Marvin can’t possibly move without Kline, and there is no way Kline is going to let go of the Charleston deal.”

  Foster picked up the stack of correspondence on Ruthie’s desk and began perusing the letters.

  “I know… That’s exactly what Sam said… Yes…”

  She began to turn slowly back around towards Foster, who was totally absorbed in his reading. Ruthie realized what he was doing and rose out of her chair to retrieve the letters while she continued to talk. She just pulled them gently out of Foster’s hands without even really looking at him.

  She laughed.

  “No and neither can Manufacturers Bank… Well, I wouldn’t go that far… Right… Okay. I’ll see you Tuesday. Do you want me to call Tom? … Okay … Good … Bye.”

  She hung up and smiled sweetly at Foster.

  “Now, where were we? You know I think the best thing for me to do is to get you together with Brad Townsend, who’s supervising our personnel operation. I’m sure he can find just the place for you.”

  II

  A small private plane touched down on the runway of an airfield located in the middle of the marshes. The airport consisted simply of a small hangar, the runway and a Coke machine.

  A limousine pulled out onto the runway as the airplane taxis to a stop. As three businessmen climbed out of the airplane, Foster emerged from the limousine to greet them. He is dressed is a full Confederate uniform complete with brass buttons, gold epaulets and a wide-brimmed cavalry hat.

  “H’y’all today? Have we got everybody?”

  He opened the door of the limousine for the businessmen and then scurried back around to the driver’s seat.

  As Foster drove the limousine through the construction sites which would soon be Southern Shores, he regaled his passengers with a running commentary on the site.

  “As we drive to the office y’all can see a lot of the work that’s been done already. This section up here is a residential area, that’s gonna be Kingfisher Drive and all that part over there used to be the worst swamp you ever saw. There’s still some question as to whether the ground can really hold houses, but they tell me everything is just hunkydory and even if it does give way, it’ll be fifteen or twenty years for sure.

  “Now that over there is going to be the golf course. They killed three coral snakes in there last week. I guess you don’t have them up North. They’re the kind that hold on to you and gnaw at your nerves rather than putting poison in your blood. The tennis courts and the pool will be over yonder where they’re fixing to build the clubhouse – if they can ever get their act together. I may be out of line, but if I was you I’d sure take everything Miz Coleman says with a grain of salt. She tends to be a little unstable, if you know what I mean. Now that right there is going to be a lake for another part of the golf course…”

  Foster’s limousine drove past an area where several bulldozers were clearing a large expanse of countryside. On a hill overlooking the area stood The Colonel. His posture seemed to imply that he was supervising the operation, and he held a pint of Four Roses the way General Patton might have held his binoculars. He checked his watch and turned to stride off down the hill towards the road.

  Jack came roaring over the hill on his tractor and began to execute a series of maneuvers totally disrupting the work of the bulldozers.

  Bulldozers, tractor loaders, graders, dump trucks and virtually every other species of earth moving equipment known to man were busy devastating the wilderness. Chain saws bit into trees and shredders chewed up branches of shrubs. A chipmunk ran for his life.

  III

  Foster sat on a garden bench in the dark hunched over in an effort to keep warm.

  He had his coat wrapped tightly around him and he occasionally shuffled his feet or rubbed himself with his hands. He took a drink of coffee from a thermos.

  He started to doze off, then forced himself to sit up and open his eyes. He stood up to pace around a bit and then sat back down.

  He was beginning to doze off again when he was startled by the sound of footsteps behind him. He jumped up and turned expectantly to greet the person coming around the corner.

  It was Lee.

  “Hey, my man.”

  Foster cannot conceal his disappointment.

  “H’you.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m all right.”

  “Cold enough for you?”

  “I guess.”

  Lee headed off towards the house.

  “You haven’t seen Kathleen tonight, have you?”

  “No, but I’ll tell her you’re looking for her if I see her.

  IV

  Kathleen, Lee and Foster were preparing to tee off. They had three or four clubs between them which they were carrying without a bag. Lee was dressed in vintage knickers, a moth-eaten argyle sweater and a wool golf cap.

  Kathleen teed off first with a three iron. She connected reasonably well, and the ball landed in the fairway.

  Lee was excited.

  “Far out.”

  He stepped up to bat using a wood. He adjusted the ball on the tee and then took a mighty swing which missed entirely. He checked out the situation and then swung again. This time he connected, and the ball went soaring off into the rough in a terrific slice.

  Foster hesitated.

  “Y’all go on without me.”

  Lee wouldn’t hear of it.

  “C’mon, man! Git up here and slap the shit outa that little ball. It’ll do your heart good.”

  Lee pulled him up to the tee and teed his ball up for him.

  “Now forget about everything except the ball.”

  Foster swung. At some point in his youth he must have
played golf, because he hit the ball solidly and sent it flying down the fairway.

  “God damn! Tell me that didn’t feel good.”

  Foster seemed unmoved. He picked up his tee, and they started walking down the fairway as Lee lit up his pipe.

  “The problem with you is you get too hung up. You gotta learn to just roll with it, boy.”

  “Do you believe in ghosts?”

  Lee takes this question, like everything else in life, at face value.

  “Can’t say I ever saw one.”

  “Did you ever see Annabelle, or do you think I was just imagining her?”

  “Half the time I don’t know what I’m seeing. What difference does it make? If you loved her, man, she was real.”

  “I still love her.”

  They arrived at Lee’s ball. Kathleen was touched by Foster’s sadness and put her arm around him as they waited for Lee to hit the ball. Lee took a vicious swing which puts his ball back into the fairway along with a large clod of dirt and grass.

  “I had to pretend she didn’t exist in order to get out of the hospital, and she felt it was a betrayal. I guess I was unfaithful to her.”

  Kathleen wanted to understand.

  “Do you think she’s a ghost?”

  “I don’t know. She looks just like the lady in the portrait above the fireplace.”

  Lee was impressed.

  “Oh wow.”

  “So far as I could tell she was flesh and blood, but I guess the rest of you couldn’t even see her. I thought she would come back here to be with me after I got out of the hospital, but I was afraid to talk about her. Maybe I was still being unfaithful to her.”

  Kathleen tried to reassure him.

  “You mustn’t blame yourself for what you had to do. If she loves you, she’ll forgive you.”

  “She probably doesn’t love me anymore. I think I’ve lost her for good.”

  Kathleen kept her arm around Foster as they walked off down the fairway towards Lee’s ball.