The Park

By Maryann Davenport

Coral Wood joins her grandfather on his ranch in Grand Valley, California where she spent her happy childhood summers. As the new high school social studies teacher she finds her students in the middle of a fight between the local ranchers and a city club on the coast, which wants to make Grand Valley a public park.

After meeting Mac Maclane, the very attractive biology teacher who is leading the landowners, she is torn between wanting to lead him to her bed and wanting to help him save her grandfather's ranch.

A powerful man from the east coast offers the ranchers a third option, tempers flare, and violence threatens from both sides until a college professor is found dead on one of the ranches, the victim of a savage killer.

Coral shows her students how to have their say on the proposed park while she and Mac pursue the killer. In spite of their best efforts to keep the peace Coral can feel a faceless evil closing in on them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jun 19, 2007
• ISBN: 9780595888542

Maryann Davenport

Maryann Davenport will never forget the day she passed her helicopter flight examination and received her private pilot?s license. She shared the frightening and funny adventures of learning to fly in her story, Chance of A Lifetime, in the September/October 1997 issue of Woman Pilot magazine. Her novels are described on the website she shares with her husband, also a novelist: www.chimneystonebooks.com. Davenport is a member (# 1028) of the Whirly Girls, the international organization of women helicopter pilots.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

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How you been, Coral? The deep quiet voice came from a big red-faced man in worn blue coveralls.

Coral Wood stepped out of her little blue sedan while the man unscrewed the lid to the gas tank and put the pump nozzle in place. I’m fine, Hank. Would you top it off?

He nodded. It’s been a while since you’ve been through. How’s your grandpa?

He could be better. I’ll be glad when I get there. I’m a little worried about him. Coral headed for the ladies’ restroom while Hank washed her windshield. She marveled at how clean the restroom was at this little gas station every time she drove through the area. It was the only one on the sixty mile stretch of highway between the freeway and Pineville where her grandfather had his ranch. It was also the only one where she got full service for what she considered to be a regular price.

She ran a comb through her short black curly hair and grimaced at her reflection when she saw how tired her dark brown eyes looked. She had always liked their half-ellipse shape. They were a gift handed down from a great-grandfather who was half Native American. Well, I’ll catch up on my sleep tonight.

The ivory color of her skin confused people who tried to guess her nationality and Coral liked that, too. She enjoyed the fact she had a little bit of many nationalities but belonged to no one but herself.

Coral paid Hank and hurried up the long grade to Grand Butte. She got a thrill every time the trees on each side of the highway pulled back and revealed the broad green valley with Grand Butte rising in the middle. Pineville’s old wooden and brick buildings were perched on the top while newer businesses and most of the houses spilled down the sides of the butte out onto the floor of Grand Valley. It reminded her of a medieval fortress in an etching in an old book of fairy tales she had been given when she was a child. She was sure there was nothing like Grand Valley anywhere else in California.

It was far enough north of the big cities that Coral often wondered if the local people felt they were not only independent of the state government but almost an independent country as well. She had spent her summers on her grandfather’s ranch from her earliest memories until she graduated from high school. Coral loved the sweet summers at this altitude. The air was filled with the smell of pine and the creeks gushed all summer long. The only flaw was the summers were too short.

She turned onto the highway which wrapped around the butte and followed the foaming Emerald River to the dirt road leading into her grandfather’s place.

Coral was humming when she stopped at the main gate to open it. The arch, overhead, showed a new coat of paint over the letters which spelled out, Grand Emerald. She smiled when she saw new paint on the carving of the emerald symbol, too. The white facet lines against the deep green made it look almost neon when the sun hit it.

Maybe Grandpa is feeling better.

She drove through the ranch at a snail’s pace. It was not because she wanted to avoid making dust. She wanted to savor her first look at the place in two years. Coral had been expecting the fences to be down and the weeds to be up after receiving letters from her grandfather which sounded like he was depressed. Then there was the distressing letter from his neighbor, Lars Peterson.

Peterson had asked Coral to make a special effort to visit her grandfather because he was in such poor spirits since his second wife, Miranda, had died. Peterson was afraid the old man’s health was gone. Coral felt a twinge every time she thought of the letter. Her grandfather, Fred Clay, was the dearest person to her now that Lati, her parents’ housekeeper, was gone. She knew she would miss her grandfather’s second wife, too. Miranda had always seemed like her real grandmother.

Lila, Clay’s first wife and Coral’s maternal grandmother, had lived near Coral’s parents when she was growing up but Coral never felt close to her. Lila was too busy being glamorous and sarcastic to suit Coral. Miranda had been a loving wife to Fred. Besides, she told great stories and knew every cookie recipe there was. Coral had loved her childhood summers with her.

She drove up to a weathered gray farmhouse which seemed to amble off in two directions, at ground level. Her grandfather had added a couple of porches, a second bathroom, and a second bedroom. Two large furry dogs bounded up to the car to greet her and jumped around near her door while she got out. One was a black shepherd mix and the other one was a beautiful border collie.

There’s my girl. You dogs settle down, now. A trim white-haired man hurried out of the house to hug Coral. He was not much taller than Coral and he seemed a little thin but he was smiling and the twinkle was there in his dark blue eyes. God, it’s good to have you home. Are you really going to be here for the winter?

Yes, Grandpa. I got lucky. The man who was teaching social studies at the high school, here, got a good offer at a school in Fresno so my timing was great. You’re stuck with me for a while, at least until you get tired of me and I find another place to live. I’m thinking of staying in Pineville. I missed you.

I won’t hear of you living anywhere else, young lady, unless one of these handsome ranchers manages to catch your eye. It sure would please me to have you around. I hope this isn’t a sympathy call, though. I’m still pretty tough.

I’m tired of the city, Grandpa. Fallbrook was a nice little town but it wasn’t as quiet as Pineville and it didn’t have you. There’s only one Grand Valley.

I always said you were the smartest one in the family. Come inside. Martha Peterson sent some cookies and homemade bread over with Lars this morning. Silly woman thinks I can’t take care of myself but I forgive her because she bakes almost as good as Miranda did.

Fred helped Coral put her luggage in the guest room and then they settled down to some coffee and an early dinner of homemade rolls and her grandfather’s beef stew.

The place looks great, Coral said. The gate looks like new.

I couldn’t have my granddaughter come home to a ragtag gate. You sound surprised.

Well, your letters sounded a little down. I have been a little worried about you.

Oh, don’t let a grumpy old man bother you. I had something on my mind but things are looking better, especially with you here. His smile was as bright as ever.

Is it something you want to talk about? Is it a problem with your heart?

No. Poor Miranda was the one with the weak heart. I miss her something awful, Coral. You know how I loved her. I just got myself all worked up over this bunch of screwballs over on the coast that wants to take our land.

You said the people around here were having a squabble with some town on the coast but I didn’t realize they were trying to take the ranch. Coral could feel her heart jump up into her throat. She realized how lost she would feel if the Grand Emerald was no longer a place she could call home.

Well, I think we’re going to give those Jaspers a run for their money. We formed our own organization and we’ve got a smart scientific type for our leader. Now days if you want to win against politicians you got to get yourself a college man to fight them. The Old West values are gone. He looked wistful, then shrugged and got up to pour more coffee for both of them.

I just thought you were up against some garden club or something. Are you saying you’ve got some land grabbing crooked politician to fight?

Hey, maybe you ought to join our group. You sound like one of us. By damn, make’s me feel good you didn’t turn out to be one of them chicken shit liberals like your folks. Not kind of me to say about my own daughter but it’s a fact.

Grandpa, I don’t think they would even qualify as liberals. Coral laughed at the image of her parents getting excited over anything. I doubt they’ve voted since I left home. Lati used to shame them into voting. I tried after she left but I don’t think I had much of an effect. They live in their own narrow little worlds. I think Crista could disappear and Eric wouldn’t notice until the groceries ran out in the refrigerator.

Disgusting. Fred shook his head. I never had much to say in the raising of poor little Crista. Lila kept us apart from the time Crista was three years old, when she divorced me. At that time it was hard for a man to enforce visitation rights and I didn’t have a lawyer. I was crazy to think I could satisfy a social princess like her. Lila may have been beautiful but she had no heart. The real estate guy was welcome to her.

She left him years ago, Grandpa.

Well, I guess his luck hadn’t run out after all.

Coral started to laugh and choked on her coffee.

Didn’t you ever call your folks Mom and Dad? Fred gave her a sad look.

I remember Lati before I remember them. I wanted to call Lati Mom but she didn’t think it was proper. Eric and Crista never asked me to call them anything. They weren’t around much. I think they thought of me as a tax deduction or a baby duck like the kind you win at a carnival booth.

I know you still miss Lati. I was always glad you had her to raise you.

I had you and Miranda, too. Lati thought a lot of you, Grandpa. She always made sure I got to come up here when Eric and Crista started taking student groups on those foreign tours for the summer. They loved to travel but Lati wouldn’t leave America. She said she felt good when she visited her relatives in Lodi for the summer as long as she knew I was with you and Miranda.

I thought a lot of her, too. Tough lady, that one. Imagine her escaping from communist Rumania by slipping away from her boss in Paris. She didn’t even know anybody there.

Coral smiled. Lati believed she could communicate with anybody if she tried long enough. Her French was pretty good but when she came to the United States with that French family she could only read and write English. That’s what amazed me. I can’t imagine talking someone, like my parents, into hiring me by writing them a note in a language I barely understood. I might be signing up for prostitution and not know it.

Fred shook his head and then looked out the window. There are lots of fine brave people in this country and even in other countries. That’s what I tell myself every day now. The problem is they’re hard to see and the people who do the news and write in the papers don’t look hard enough. They think we just want to hear the bad stuff. They don’t understand we need to hear the good stuff as much as we need food for our bodies.

Was that what was hurting you, Grandpa? Did you think everybody had become evil or cowardly?

I guess I was tempted to think it. When Miranda was alive she’d scold me and tell me I was letting the reporters and movie makers make a chump out of me. She’d say they think we’re stupid and the only thing we respond to is horror and scandal like we were a bunch of jackals. Fred looked over at Coral and tried to smile.

He drank the rest of his coffee. She said when we let them make us feel down on humans those reporter folks laughed at us and gloated because they won one more time. I’d get so mad I’d vow to be an optimist just to spit in their eye. God, I miss that woman.

Coral wiped a tear off of one cheek and got up to gather the dishes. Just remember, Grandpa, she’s still right.

Yeah. She always will be. Hey, maybe I ought to buy a dishwasher now you’ll be living here. You know, get modern.

Don’t be silly. You always washed your own dishes, even when Miranda was here. It would just take up space. These will only take a minute. What do you say to us going for a ride?

Great idea. I’ll go saddle them up. Ginger isn’t as quick as she used to be but Jerry still thinks he’s a young sport. I been wanting to check on the cows up in the west pasture. Some of those calves came late. I don’t want the cats to get them. Clay hurried out. He was whistling.

Coral felt herself start to relax. She felt like it had been years since her last contented sigh.

When they went for their ride Clay led the way on Jerry, a pinto with gaudy splashes of tan and white against the deep black of his back and head. He was middle-aged for a horse but he never seemed to get tired. He always looked like he was ready for some mischief.

Ginger, the light bay Coral was riding, was a tall old mare with lovely brown eyes and chestnut mane and tail. They were devoted to her grandfather and followed him around whenever they got a chance to get out of their pasture.

When they reached what Clay called the summer pasture he began scanning the ground.

Have you lost any calves to lions this year? Coral said.

One. That’s pretty good considering they’ve become a plague with all the protection they get. Hell, little old widows don’t get the loving care from the government them mangy cats get. I used to love them but that was when they went after deer and the occasional sick steer. He slowed Jerry down and leaned over to one side to look at something.

He stopped and climbed down to examine a set of tracks. Now, you’ve got to watch your little kids and the dogs are always disappearing. Damned shame. Sooner or later, this protection stuff’ll wipe them out. If people don’t get mad enough to kill them all, they’ll develop some disease from being too many of them.

I thought that was one of the principles of evolution, that Nature thinned them out when they outnumbered their resources. Isn’t that why you country people have hunting seasons?

These environmentalists are supposed to be college types but they’re sure dumb when it comes to animals. They don’t even know deer’ll starve to death if all they get is hay in one of these bad winters. Without leaves off trees, they can’t digest our cow food. Dumb bastards. It’s downright cruel to let them starve when a decent hunting season could thin them out, Fred said.

I’m sure they could use some time out in the country with country people to teach them. Maybe that’s what someone should suggest.

No thanks. Fred’s voice was sharp. They’re busy putting us in jail for killing a rattlesnake in our front yard or cutting some damned bush they say is beloved by some bird. All we need is to have those slimy critters under foot. I wouldn’t be able to run a ranch at all if it was up to them. Practically can’t now.

Coral decided it would be better if she avoided any reference to politics or wild animals for a while. She wanted her grandfather to relax and stop worrying. When she tried to introduce other subjects into the conversation he seemed to lose interest. They finished their ride in silence.

*      *      *

Coral was glad she had arrived a month before school started. She could get her lesson plans typed up and get to know something about the children and their parents before school opened the first of September. She decided to get up before dawn to have breakfast with her grandfather and then spend each morning on her lesson plans while he did his ranching chores.

They took a ride after lunch each day and then worked in his little garden until Coral suggested a break. Their afternoon snacks turned into early dinners as the days passed. They reminisced until dark and then Coral did laundry while her grandfather read the local newspaper

or watched the news. When he dozed off, she used the time to enjoy the stars with the two ranch dogs, Blackie and Silk, beside her.

No wonder Crista and Lila hated this place. Coral chuckled while she petted the dogs on a night with stars studding a black velvet sky. No malls, no theaters, no college receptions, no beach. It feels good to be home.

After about a week of the quiet life Coral decided she was being lazy. It’s time I started to get to know my community, Grandpa. I read in the paper there’s going to be a town meeting tonight at the Grange Hall. I decided I’ll go. Do you want to come with me?

They were finishing breakfast while the first rays of light began to lift the darkness outside the window. Birds were beginning to call and the dogs barked a couple of times.

No thanks. You go ahead. All they do down there is squabble over little stuff. Instead of doing something about the group on the coast, they bicker about whether Carl Hay can paint his sign something besides what it was painted for the last eighty years. The man owns the business. It ought to be up to him what he paints on his building. It’s not like he’s wanting to put up a full-sized nude lady.

Coral laughed. And what would you say if he wanted to do that?

I’d tell him to be sure she was pretty. I don’t want any ugly naked stuff to look at. I’ve got standards, you know.

Coral turned to look at her grandfather and saw he was serious. She

laughed again and poured each of them a second cup of coffee.

*      *      *

She was afraid she would arrive too early when she drove to the town meeting that night. Coral had always bothered people in the city with her punctuality at social events. Not that I attended any social events I didn’t have to. A logging truck roared around her while she edged to the side of the road. Got to get used to those monsters again. She noticed the truck was carrying rotten trees and dead brush.

Coral was surprised she had seen a logging truck at all. Environmentalists had pretty well closed the western lumber industry down according to her grandfather. It’s a shame there won’t be any wooden furniture one of these days. She loved animals and trees and most living things but she had never understood why the clubs which wanted to protect those things thought they were the only ones with rights or with any brains.

She had listened to her parents carry on debates over the best way to save the environment. Her father had argued the only way to preserve life on the planet was by extensive studies and then getting the government to buy huge areas of the West to carry on the findings of the studies. Her mother, Crista, always believed the government should simply make it a felony to cut any trees or kill any animal or use a chemical on anything. Crista was a strict vegetarian but she insisted on using paper towels for everything and she hated any imperfections in fruit or vegetables. Coral enjoyed teasing her mother about the conflict between her environmentalism and her lifestyle.

Her mother replied with the same words every time, That’s different.

Coral pulled onto the lumpy pavement which was used for a parking lot next to the Grange Hall. She was surprised at the crowded lot. There were only two more parking places left when she found a slot. I hope I got the time right.

She walked around the wooden building looking for a lighted door. The building was sagging and the wooden siding had patches on it but it had been painted and the eaves looked solid. Coral found the front door more by sound than light. Several couples were standing around the door in the circle of light cast by an overhead floodlight. They were all smoking and laughing. She nodded at people and said, Evening several times before she stepped into the main room.

The lights were too bright for her in the big room. Coral looked down and saw a child about eight years old holding a pamphlet up for her to take. Thank you.

You’re welcome. The little boy gave her a big smile. His hair blew in all directions every time the door opened and his shoes looked too big for his feet.

She looked around the room to see where she wanted to sit. She was looking at a place in the middle of the group of folding chairs on the left side of the aisle when she felt a cold hand touch her arm. Coral turned to look at a short thin woman with long white straight hair. She was wearing a floor-length cotton dress which had orange and brown stripes in an African design. The dozen strings of bright beads around her neck hung down to her waist. The bright patches of orange makeup on her face made her neck and hands seem whiter than her hair.

Good evening. You’re new, aren’t you? My name is Abby Grunbach and I would like to welcome you to this little community. Her smile revealed straight yellow teeth highlighted by two gold diagonal pieces on two of her teeth.

Coral stepped back to catch her breath. I’m, uh, Coral Wood. Uh, thank you.

Won’t you sit with me? I usually sit over here.

She started to guide Coral over to the left side of the aisle when a bulky man with tufts of grayish red hair on his head and lots of freckles on his face blocked their way.

Now Mr. Ryan, I hope you aren’t going to say we can’t attend your little meeting.

Abby, I’d as soon you be where I can keep an eye on you so I wouldn’t think of telling you to go away but I’d be remiss in my duty to an old friend if I didn’t take Miss Wood in hand.

Coral looked at Ryan again to see if she could recognize him. The memory of a big raw-boned red-haired man popped into her head. You’re Big Mike. You helped my grandfather clear some trees when he built the calving shed in the back pasture.

Ryan’s face changed from red fury to a huge smile with blue eyes twinkling above it. That’s right. You were a little one then. My, I’ll bet your grandfather’s proud of you. You’re even prettier than Miranda was when she was young.

Mr. Ryan is famous for his charm. Abby’s voice was scratchy. Now, if you’ll excuse us.

Coral, how does your grandfather feel about this park these people want to put in here?

Is the park the reason they want his land?

Yes, his and everyone else’s.

Now, Mike, you’re exaggerating again and I—

He’s dead set against it and I’m really worried about what it would do to him if they take Emerald. Coral felt a stab of guilt at using her grandfather as the excuse for not wanting the park. She knew she would hate it as much as her grandfather would if the ranch were taken from him.

Then I think it best you join me and my lovely wife, Mike said.

When Mike took her left arm, Coral lifted her right arm out of Abby’s bony grasp and let him lead her into the section of chairs on the right side of the aisle. Coral could hear Abby ranting about Mike’s unmitigated gall somewhere behind her but she did not care. The old woman seemed predatory and presumptuous.

Mike Ryan had been the man who put her on Ginger when she was a little girl and told her Ginger would become her devoted friend if she gave her an apple a day for a week. After a week of apples Ginger lowered her head for Coral to put on the bridle and never tossed her head again or balked at going through gates.

Mike introduced his tall plump wife as my true love, Maddie and regaled Coral with glowing tales of Maddie’s beautiful watercolor paintings. Before the shy woman could say much the gavel sounded at the podium and the meeting began.

The meeting was no more boring than the teachers’ meetings Coral had attended at the different high schools where she had taught. After a lengthy discussion about permits issued to three new businesses in town and a report on new roof regulations she began to look the crowd over to guess how many would have students in the high school. She was pleased when several of the adults looked familiar. Coral could not

remember their names but she had a pleasant reaction when she saw them so she assumed they were people she had met at her grandfather’s.

Her eyes returned for the fourth time to a tall lean man who was leaning against the wall on the right side of the room. He had a determined jaw and defiant eyes the color of bullets. His brown hair was thick and short and unruly. His muscular arms were folded across his chest. He did not look happy.

During the coffee break Coral walked over to the coffee table with Maddie Ryan while Maddie described a neighbor’s gladiolas as if they were as big as balloons.

The stern lean man left his place against the wall and walked up to them. Maddie, you look great in red. You should wear it more often. His voice sounded cold as if his compliment were an order he presumed would be carried out.

Maddie smiled like a shy girl and then cleared her throat. Coral, I’d like you to meet one of your fellow teachers. This is Roger Maclane, the biology teacher. We call him Mac. Mac, this is Coral Wood. Her grandfather owns Grand Emerald and she’ll be joining your faculty this Fall.

Maclane allowed a small smile to visit his face before it disappeared when he spoke. I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Wood. I hope you’ll enjoy your students. May I ask what you’ll be teaching?

I teach social studies subjects. Mr. Emery said it’ll be World history, World Geography and American Government, for sure.

I see. Maclane seemed to be scowling now. So you’ll be peddling the usual line of tripe about how we need to meddle in everyone’s personal lives, especially the lives of people in other countries.

We being Americans?

We being the blasted federal government with us picking up the tab for all this glorious meddling. State governments aren’t great but they mind their own business a hell of a lot better than the one in Washington does.

Now, Mac, Coral is supposed to be teaching that stuff. You stick to your bugs and birds. Mike Ryan walked up behind Coral. He laid his hand on her shoulder. He was glaring at Maclane.

Sorry. Nice to meet you. Maclane turned and started to walk away.

Mr. Maclane.

Maclane turned around to look at Coral.

For your information, I believe in private enterprise and strong states’ rights but I don’t think we’d have a prayer of working any of these things out in the democratic process if everyone was as hostile as you are. Coral turned her back to him and reached for a cup of coffee.

That’s telling him, Coral. Your grandfather would be proud. Don’t judge Mac too hard though. He’s still young and hot-headed the way I used to be, Mike said.

Coral glanced out the side of her eye and saw Maddie duck her head to hide a smile.

Mike reached for a doughnut and a cup of coffee. Mac’s a fine lad. He’s head of the private property group we’ve got going to fight those fools on the park authority and he knows his stuff. He’s just got a few barnacles on him yet.

He’s lucky to have a friend like you to speak up for him. Coral could not resist glancing back to see where Maclane had gone.

He had not moved. He was staring at her.

You wait and see. He’ll grow on you. Mike took a big bite out of his doughnut and led the way back to their seats.

CHAPTER 2

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So you didn’t get to talk to any parents of your students except for the Ryans. I’m sorry to hear that, Fred Clay said.

He and Coral were enjoying a second cup of coffee before they started the morning’s work.

Oh, I’m not sorry I went. It gave me a feel for what people care about. That’s important for my American Government classes. And, I met two people I want to avoid in the future. That’s always worth something.

You mean Abby Grunbach. I hate that woman. She’s the chairman of the damned Emerald River Park Authority in Chapel Point. They’re the ones who want to take our land. He looked up and gave Coral a puzzled look. Whose the other one you didn’t like? It wasn’t Mike, was it?

Oh, no. Mike and his wife, Maddie, are sweethearts. Roger Maclane is the high school biology teacher here and an arrogant pain in the butt. I may have to be polite at teachers’ meetings but I usually come late and leave early from those things so I don’t think it’ll be a problem.

Now, Coral, Mac’s a wonderful young man. He’s chairman of our private property rights group. Without him some hothead would blow up Chapel Point and make martyrs out of those losers. Mac’s the voice of sanity we needed. I hope you’ll give him another chance.

Coral sighed and looked at her grandfather. Then she smiled. For you, Grandpa.

The next day, Coral decided it was time for a major grocery buying trip. I suppose you have to go all the way to Redding to buy groceries when you do the big shopping. She and her grandfather were watching the sun set at the crest of the mountain west of the ranch.

I tell you, Coral, Carl buys what I like most in enough quantity he can give me a price break on the stuff so I don’t go to Redding more than two or three times a year. He knows I want a case of peaches and split pea soup and such like about this time every month so he has it ready for me. I’ll go with you tomorrow and we’ll have lunch at Ruth’s. I’ll bet it’s been a long time since you’ve been there.

I’d love it. Do they still have the wonderful chicken soup?

People’d riot if she stopped making it. I think it’s all Ruth does these days. Her daughter, Ann, runs it most. Ruth supervises her favorite dishes. She’s got arthritis pretty bad in her knees.

I’m grateful to you for taking such good care of yourself, Grandpa. You look as straight and agile as ever.

Clay beamed at her. Too busy to get old. Besides, I’m just lucky. I got good genes. I had a good doctor in Miranda, too.

How long has it been since you went to see a doctor for yourself? Lars Peterson told me he’s really been worried about your health.

Oh, I suppose it’s been twenty years or more. Last time I went, I’d sprained my leg stepping in a post hole. Damn fool thing to do. Miranda thought I’d broke it. As long as I stay away from milk, like she told me, I seem to be fine. Fred sat up and flexed his shoulders.

He turned to look at Coral and pointed a finger at her. The trouble with Lars is he thinks you should run to the doctor with every little thing. It’s a wonder he hasn’t killed himself with all the pills he takes. That’s not for me.

I guess I can’t criticize. I haven’t had a doctor since I was in high school. It was all the insurance company could do to get me to go for the basic exam when I started teaching.

There’s still a bunch of herbs in the cabinet in the corner of the bathroom if you get to feeling bad. I don’t know how old they are. I figure if I get sick I’ll just try them and if they don’t work, I’ll throw them away.

I’ll go through them and check the dates. Some of them last for years. I know I was never sick here longer than a day with Miranda giving me stuff. I even smuggled stuff home in case I got sick there, Coral said.

Didn’t Lati believe in herbs?

Yes. I just didn’t know where to get them in Santa Barbara. Now there are herb stores all over the place. I didn’t tell my folks I had the stuff because they would’ve taken the herbs whenever they needed energy. They never watched what they ate or got to bed at a decent hour so I felt it was a waste of herbs to give them to them.