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Granger’s

Threat

A Murder Mystery Laced with a Web of Lies and Familial Contempt

Teresa Pijoan

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,

and incidents either are the product of this author’s imagination or are used fictitiously,

and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events,

or locals is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and

does not assume any responsibility for author or third party websites or their content.

© 2014 by Teresa Pijoan

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or

mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems

without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer

who may quote brief passages in a review.

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For information please write: Special Markets Department, Sunstone Press,

P.O. Box 2321, Santa Fe, New Mexico 87504-2321.

Book and Cover design › Vicki Ahl

Body typeface › Granjon LT Std

eBook 978-1-61139-253-1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Pijoan, Teresa, 1951-

Granger’s Threat : a murder mystery laced with a web of lies and familial contempt / by Teresa Pijoan.

pages cm

ISBN 978-0-86534-983-4 (softcover : alk. paper)

1. Murder--Investigation--New Mexico--Fiction. 2. Family secrets--Fiction.

3. Mystery fiction. I. Title.

PS3572.A4365G73 2014

813’.54--dc23

2014003979

www.sunstonepress.com

SUNSTONE PRESS / Post Office Box 2321 / Santa Fe, NM 87504-2321 /USA

(505) 988-4418 / orders only (800) 243-5644 / FAX (505) 988-1025

Dedicated

to

Sue Vliet

and

Carol C. Pijoan

“Oh what a tangled web we weave,

When first we practice to deceive!”

—Sir Walter Scott, Marmion, Canto vi. Stanza 17

1

Calavera, New Mexico

Early morning, Thursday, January, 1988

Margaret sat in the wooden Captain’s chair beside the rented hospital bed, causing Margaret’s bed to be pushed into the corner of the large bedroom. The one lamp on the bedside table gave an ominous glow to the white walls. She stared at her eighty year old husband.

He was a slip of his former self. His body was now a frail, weak skeleton covered in skin, opaque skin. The odor emanating from his body was wretched as was the way of the dead or dying. The man was curled in a fetal position. His claw like hands were wrapped one around the other. His feet were pointed downward as his knees were bent almost up to his hairless chest. The toenails were thick, dark orange, and cracked. Margaret pulled the white cotton sheet over his feet. She didn’t want to look at them anymore.

Her son’s deep voice permeated the silence. “You know this wouldn’t have been so difficult if you would have just let him die from pneumonia last month?”

The sixty year old Margaret began rocking back and forth with her arms wrapped around her waist. She tugged at the sweater of lavender blue that hugged her thin frame. “Granger, I couldn’t do it then. I just couldn’t. The doctor had the visiting nurse come in and she was the one who called the ambulance. What was I to do?” She glared at her son through her long eyelashes, “There was no choice. What was I to do?”

Granger grimaced. This was her way to blame others for her own lack of action. She had always been this way. He sat back on the rolling medical stool on the opposite side of the hospital bed from his mother. He lifted his head to study the large painting on the wall over her bed. The dancing ballerinas were always dancing east, they never sat down and they never had a break. Granger sighed. He never got a break from her either.

When he was small boy, being raised on an isolated farm way out on the flat lands, his mother would wait up for her husband, his father, to come home from the hospital only to hand him a list of all the troubles their children had caused during the day. She made sure that the children were punished for their ‘sins.’

If her husband did not beat the children to a pulp, then he was not allowed to get into her bed. He was hardly home as it was, right? He was always at the hospital. He was one of four doctors for about five hundred miles of flat dry farmland. He rarely came home. If he did come home, well, he needed to prove that he was worthy of being a father and do his fatherly duty of punishing the children. He was to keep them in line!

Granger remembered those nights when his mother leaned against the door frame of the bedroom to watch her husband as he would grab the kids who were sound asleep. Both Sophia and Granger were blissfully unaware of the hell that was soon descending upon their weak and fragile bodies. Granger’s father was six-two and weighed around two hundred and forty pounds. He was strong and powerful in spirit with his striking Mediterranean good looks. Father would throw them, one by one onto the floor, kick them only to pick them up and pitch them back onto the bed with a loud remark to their mother, “There, are you happy now?” Then his father would hurry out the door, down the hall to fall into bed for desperate sleep.

Now his father was struggling to stay alive and Granger was the one with the power. His mother jerked when father started to wheeze and then cough. The phlegm in his father’s throat had settled. Father would aspirate if he wasn’t lifted to a sitting position. Usually either the visiting nurse or Granger’s sister Sophia, would be here to lift father, but tonight they had sent his sister home to her husband and kids. Tonight was the night to do the deed.

The wind continued to howl in the cold January night. The dog and the cats had been locked out of the bedroom by his mother. She was terrified of witnesses yet she would not, could not ever do any deed by herself. Granger sucked in air. His father’s face was contorting. His father had not been able to speak for almost two years and in the last three months only a grunt was given when the catheter had been put in or when his head was lifted for eye drops. The cough was becoming more labored, more difficult. Dark brown eyes shot open struggling to see anyone who would or could help him.

Granger’s mother covered her mouth as tears fell from her round blue eyes. The tree branches outside rubbed against the side of the roof squeaking, scratching a morbid rhythm. A loud whistle broke through the silence. Some air worked through the phlegm and then the whistling stopped. Legs jerked out as father’s head shot back and then fell forward. The chest heaved as fluids gushed from the lower extremities of his body. Granger froze. His large eyes stared at his father.

Margaret fell to her knees on the polished brick floor. “Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name, Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, earth as it is in Heaven. Oh, God. No!” She reached over the dead body for Granger’s hand.

Granger pulled his hand away quickly to wipe them on his corduroy pants. “That’s right, Mom, Thy will be done in Heaven as done here.” Dark hair fell forward onto Granger’s forehead. Quickly he pushed it back.

Margaret screamed out, “No! Oh, no what have we done? We’ve sinned! We’re going to burn in hell for all eternity!” She struggled to stand, pushing the chair back away from her. “Granger, get him back, bring him back! What have we done?”

“Mom, you killed him. You chose to kill him and now he is dead. This is all yours. All of this is yours. I wash my hands of this completely.” Granger now stood. He reached down to pull the sheet over his father’s face. “You wanted him dead and dead he is.” Shadows played against the white wall as Granger hovered over the dead body.

“Not this way! Granger, not like this!” She hurried to him and grabbed his arms, “Do something! I can’t burn in hell. I have lived in hell all my life and I refuse to live in hell in the hereafter! Do something, damn you!” Her eyes flowed with tears. Her face was white and wrinkled.

“Mom, you asked me here to do this.” Granger used his calm voice, “Mom, you have already taken over his accounts, declared him incompetent, you are already spending his death insurance money. This was your personal choice, not mine.” Granger pulled away from her to lift his hands in a stance of being noncommittal. “The deed is done. Now you are the one who has to call the police and your daughter. Mom, this was your choice. It is done.”

Granger turned on his heel, rubbing his upper arms where she had held him. He opened the door, letting in the dark calico cat. The cat ran across the floor to jump on the high hospital bed.

“No, Granger, get the cat out of here. Get the cat!”

“Mom, this is your home, your house, your place of death. I leave all of this to you.”

Not caring what the neighbors would think now, Granger moved down the hall turning on the lights. His leather soled boots echoed as they hit the polished brick floors. Swinging around the corner into the living room, he pulled his heavy jacket from the coat rack by the front door. “Bye, Mom. Good luck with this.” He went out into the night, slamming the heavy wooden front door behind him. The glass in the front windows rattled.

Carefully, Granger drove down her driveway in his Mercedes with the lights off. It would not do for the neighbors to see him leaving his father’s death bed at one in the morning. Probably was not a good idea to slam the front door, but he did have a point to make. “That woman has lived to make my life a living hell.”

Margaret stood over her dead husband. “Are you really dead?” Her voice whispered out in the silence. The tree branches continued to scrape along the roof. “You must do something about those trees, dear. They are ruining the roof and we don’t want to spend money on the roof now do we?”

Quietly, Margaret moved to the dial phone that sat on her bedside table overflowing with magazines. She sat on the edge of the bed smoothing her skirt of grey wool over her knees. “No, I should get into my nightgown and set the stage for a natural death. Yes, I will set the stage. I am innocent, Sir, innocent of any wrong doing.”

Margaret moved to the walk-in closet, flipped on the light and disrobed. She pulled her nightgown of blue flannel over her head. Closing the door, she hurried around the hospital bed into the joining bathroom. There she brushed her shoulder length brown hair one hundred times. She brushed her teeth with the electric toothbrush and straightened all of her husband’s medicines on the shelf. Turning off the bathroom light she stated, “There, now everything is neat and tidy.”

She turned and stared at the hospital bed. “Oh, dear, you can’t be dead yet!” She hurried to her husband and took the sheet off of his face to fold it under his chin. “There, you aren’t really dead yet. We can pretend.” She picked up the cat and threw her out into the hall, closing the door quietly.

The heavy quilt was folded back, then the wool blanket and finally her pink sheets. Margaret crawled under the sheets pulling each layer over her. The pillows were plumped as she sat erect staring at the painting of her husband that hung opposite her bed. “Well, there you are at forty- tall, dark, and handsome in your medical coat. Sharp eyes, drop dead smile, women fawning all over you, but I was the one who caught you, you bastard! How many women did you impregnate while married to me? There must have been at least three and Sophia knows of two others who would be her sisters if I had not paid them to go away. So, now the famous doctor with the gorgeous looks has dropped dead! Hah!” Margaret pulled one of the pillows from behind her and threw it at the painting. The pillow fell short hitting the bureau and then falling to the floor.

A scream rang through the room. Margaret jumped a foot in the air, “My God, what?” The phone echoed its ring. Margaret cautiously reached for the phone of black plastic. It was cold as she placed it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Mom, it’s me Granger. Listen, Mom, Sophia will know what we did. She will figure this out and she will know. You have to wait until around six o’clock to call the police because if you call sooner than that, they will know what happened. Sophia will know, Mom, she will.” Granger’s voice was tight and tired.

Margaret took a calming breath, “Do you know that you almost gave me a heart attack?”

Granger smiled at the phone to mumble, “That will be the day.”

“What do you mean Sophia will know? What will she know?”

“Mom, Sophia will know that we caused Dad to aspirate. She will know.”

“She will not know, Granger, because no one will tell her! You are not to tell her and I certainly shan’t. No, Sophia will only guess and she will be wrong.” Margaret pulled the blanket up closer to her neck. “She will not know!”

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone, “All right, Mom, your concept of reality is different from mine. But don’t call the cops until almost daylight. You can tell them you were asleep and were awakened by a strong smell and found dad dead.”

Margaret sniffed the air, “Oh, you’re so right. This room stinks. I should open a window, but it is cold outside and the wind is blowing.” Margaret pulled the sheet over her head as she scrunched down under the covers. “Granger, it stinks in here. What should I do until then, that’s about three hours away?”

“Just deal with it, Mom. Deal with it. I’m going to fix myself a stiff drink and go to bed. Call me when you have the cops in the house. Good night.”

“Wait, Granger, we will have to deal with your sister.”

“Mom, what do you mean by ‘deal with her’?”

“Granger, she must not know. Sophia must not tell anyone. If she figures this out and she tells someone, she will put us in jeopardy. You know this?”

“Good night, it has been a long night. I can’t think anymore tonight. Just go to bed.”

Margaret held the phone as the dial tone hummed in her ear. “Good night,” she whispered. The radiator creaked beside the bureau. The air was heavy with body odor. Margaret pulled the pillow over her head and tried to sleep. Quietly, she whispered, “Sophia cannot know for if she does this will be the end of her!”

The wind softened into a breeze as the pink fingers of dawn rose over the Puerco Mountains. The horse in the barn began to kick the metal water trough for it was sealed with ice. Last night had been a cold, cold night for certain.

The bright sunrise reflected red and orange off the high clouds. This morning was a welcoming sight to Margaret as she held her mug of steaming tea in her left hand and used the phone to dial Granger’s phone number. It was ten minutes past eight and the sun had risen to a gloriously clear day with little wind. The phone rang twice. “Hello

“Granger, this is your mother. Your father died sometime last night. I felt it best to call and alert you to this development. I am in the process of calling your sister. Then I shall call the EMT’s to come and see if they can revive him.” Margaret lifted the steaming mug of tea to her lips to blow on the hot tea.

“Mom, I know dad is dead. I was there, remember? You should call the police, not the EMT’s.”

“No, Granger, I am calling the EMT’s. I am an elderly woman who does not know how to handle these situations. I still have hope that your father can be resuscitated. Don’t give me any grief. I know what you did.” Margaret hung up the phone to take a sip of her tea. “So, there.”

The Yellow Pages were opened on the counter beside the kitchen sink. “All right, if you need to call an EMT where-oh-where do you find them?” Margaret flipped through the pages in the front of the phonebook, nothing. She then looked under hospitals. There was nothing there. Margaret closed the book with a sigh and punched in 911.

“I believe my husband is dead! Please can you send someone right away?” Margaret’s voice was harried and confused. She even gulped a few times for effect.

“Ma’am, do you feel that you are in danger or anyone in your home is in danger?”

Margaret smiled. “No, we’re not in danger anymore. I mean my husband has been very ill and now he has stopped breathing! What do I do? I can’t lift him? I don’t know what to do?” Margaret let forth a sob.

“Ma’am, please stay on the phone. I will call the sheriff’s department for you. The sheriff must declare the emergency. He will notify the paramedics to investigate and photograph the room. What is the location of your home?”

Margaret explained that her mailing address was different from her house location. She then gave perfect directions to the farm house with the large silver Mercedes out front by the hand carved perfect oak gate that could be opened from the outside using the French made pulley.

“All right, Ma’am, you appear to have settled down. Would you please give me your phone number in case we get disconnected?”

“Get disconnected! Why should we be disconnected? Are you planning on hanging up on me while I am in this emotional confusion?”

“No, Ma’am, no, the sheriff should be arriving shortly. Do you hear the siren?”

The mug of tea was pressed to Margaret’s lips. She blew into the steaming mug as the sound of sirens wound their way to her home. “Yes, I do hear sirens. Thank you, for your help.”

A man leaned forward out of the sheriff’s cruiser. He turned sideways to pick up his cowboy hat on the passenger seat. Placing it on his head, he sighed. Deaths were always messy. The clipboard, two way radio, and his felt tipped pen were inventoried to deal with the demise of a local citizen. His polished boots set off his pressed uniform. His belt held his baton and handcuffs. Grabbing the top of the car’s door frame he lifted his six foot four body to stand.

At the oak gate, no more than eight feet from where he parked, stood a woman of about sixty, smiling. The sheriff shook his head. He held the clip board in his right hand against his hip and walked to her, slamming the driver’s door as he did so. She was still smiling with her lips yet her eyes appeared to be squinting into the cold January morning light. She yelled out at him, “Are you the sheriff?”

He gently shook his head as he grunted under his breath, “Yes, Ma’am. I am the sheriff’s deputy and I am here to assist you. What appears to be the problem?”

“Oh!” Flustered by his ignorance she flung open the oak gate smacking him directly in the shoulder. “Oh, I am sorry, sir! My husband appears to have passed away in the night.” She held her eyes wide and her mouth in an ‘O.’

Rubbing his shoulder, the deputy questioned, “Ma’am, can you direct me to your husband? Then I can call in the paramedics.”

The woman held her body between him and the front door, which was partially open. “I don’t know who you are, do I?” She put out her hand.

The Sheriff’s deputy smiled as he reached into his back left pocket to remove his wallet. On his chest was pinned a deputy’s metal with his name stamped in highlighted black. He flipped open his ID and handed it to her. “Ma’am, if you look at my shirt,” his finger pointed to his name tag clearly visible on his jacket, “You see my name, my division, and my rank.”

“Well, Deputy Sheriff Ignacio Cruz, it wasn’t obvious to me. I don’t usually have involvement with the police. I am a law abiding citizen. Thank you, for showing me your ID. At least it had your picture attached to help me understand who you are.”

She held the door. The wind was buffeting her hair about and without a jacket or coat the sheriff deputy was sure she must be cold, “Ma’am, perhaps it would be best if we spoke inside. You must certainly be feeling the weather?”

“Yes, yes.” She pushed the front door open. “Come in, please, come in.”

She stood aside, allowing him to close the heavy door. “I am sorry. It’s just you’re here and everything appears more surreal. He’s this way down the hall to your right. I will let you go by yourself.” Margaret quietly retreated to the kitchen. She sat down heavily on the bar chair at the high counter. Sipping on her tea, she whispered. “Oh, dear, the drama begins.”

“Ma’am, excuse me?” The sheriff’s deputy stood in the hall calling out to her. “Ma’am, I have notified the paramedics and they are on their way. Once they establish the scene they will send for the OMI. I’ll just wait out in the cruiser.”

Margaret hurried into the front hall, “Wait, Sir, please wait. What is an OMI?”

Sheriff Cruz let his hand remain on the door knob, “The OMI is the Officer of Medical Investigation. We call him the medical examiner. He will work with the paramedics to determine the cause of death.”

Margaret gasped, “Cause of death?”

“Yes, Ma’am, it’s important to document the cause of death. Even if the deceased had been ill for a long period of time we need to know the cause of death. The Medical Examiner is the one who will decide exactly how and why the person died.”

Margaret reached out to take his arm. Sheriff Deputy Ignacio Cruz stepped back from her, “Ma’am, is there something more?”

Margaret peered up at him through her eyelashes, “Sir, my husband died of natural causes. There is no need for an investigation.”

Sheriff Cruz lifted his clipboard to bring a divide between them, ‘The M.E. will remove everything with your husband’s body, Ma’am. He will take the tubes, medicines, and all medical information he needs to determine if the death was natural. After he confirms the cause of death, he will sign off on the report.”

“How do I get a copy of the death certificate?” Margaret stepped back against the bookcase in the hall. Sheriff Cruz pulled open the front door, “Ma’am, I believe your questions would be best answered by the Medical Examiner. His job is to verify the cause of death without a doubt. If he signs off on the case, the report returns to me and I will send it to New Mexico records. They will be the ones who will disperse the death certificate.” He touched the tip of his hat, “Ma’am, I will be outside waiting for the paramedics.”

He left her standing in the hall as he returned to his sheriff’s cruiser. He sat staring across the fields of dried alfalfa watching the clouds drift lazily to the northeast. Ducks and sand hill cranes flew in their V pattern back and forth across the sky. Blasts of sand plummeted all sides of his cruiser.

Margaret bit her lip as she paced in the kitchen with the phone pressed against her ear, “Granger, you need to get over here! They are going to search for cause of death. This will be tricky. Granger, please come now. This isn’t feeling good at all. Thank you, sweetheart.” She replaced the phone to sip her tea.

A grey van bounced down the driveway to park behind the sheriff’s cruiser. The taller fellow, who was driving, blew cigarette smoke out the window. The sheriff’s deputy rolled down his window. “Hey, guys, the deceased is inside with the wife watching over the body. Where is the M.E.?”

The paramedic on the passenger’s side shook his head, “We had to pull him from Rio Grodno. There was a motorcycle fatality up there about two hours ago. Not pretty at all, but then motorcycle accidents are nasty especially when no one was wearing a helmet or protective gear.” The young man explained, “But doc should be here any minute. They have it all wrapped up and the cops are cleaning the street.”

The radio squawked on the young paramedic’s belt. He clicked it off. “The doc wants us to go ahead and do photos and draw up the scene. Do you want to come and observe or hide out here?”

The sheriff’s deputy frowned, “No, you go on in, I’ll wait for the M.E. Then I’ll start interviewing the family.”

The two paramedics were invited into the house by Margaret. They followed her down the hall. They noticed her tailored wool jumper with the expensive red cashmere sweater. Her hair, flecked with gray was neatly combed and had been curled under to a perfect page-boy. Her black shoes complimented her gray skirt and were polished to a sparkling sheen. The floor of red tiles had been recently swept and the smell of lemon polish wafted in the air.

Once the bedroom door was opened, the air was heavy with stale body odor. Both paramedics stepped back as if hit with a hurricane wind. “Whoa, there he is. You know no matter how many times we do this the foul smell is something I’ll never get used to, the air freshener doesn’t help.” The younger paramedic with the wavy red hair wrinkled up his nose. The older paramedic in his sixties pulled two white paper masks from his handheld black kit. “Here, put this on, Doug.”

Doug turned to glare at his partner. “Hey, the wife’s right behind you, Fred.”

Fred shook his head to mumble under his breath, “She knows, Doug, she already knows.” The men walked into the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind them. Margaret sniffed as the door closed in front of her face. She returned to the kitchen. She sat on the counter stool and dialed Sophia’s phone number.

The phone rang six times. “Sophia, it’s your mother, dear.” Margaret gritted her teeth.

“Mom, this isn’t a good time!” Sophia pulled on her brown robe as if her perfect mother could see through the phone. “Geoffrey and I are late getting the girls ready for school. We’re running around all over trying to find clean pink socks for Donna!” Sophia dropped the phone only to catch it in midair. “Oh, Mom, I will be there around ten to help with dad, don’t worry. It’s my day to wash him. Is everything all right?”

Margaret took a deep breath, “Sophia, your father is dead. He is cold stone dead. You need to get over here and stop running around.” Abruptly, Margaret hung up the phone.

2

Rocoso, New Mexico

Thursday, January, 1988

Sophia hung up the phone. She fell back onto a kitchen chair. The kitchen table was covered with dripping cereal bowls, half eaten pieces of toast smeared with strawberry jam. “Geoffrey!”

Geoffrey came hurrying down the hall into the kitchen. “What? What’s the matter?” His tall frame hurried past her to reach for his black coffee container by the sink. Breathlessly drinking in the coffee, he added, “You do know your six-year old daughter Donna absolutely doesn’t want to go to school today because she doesn’t have any pink socks like her friend Carrie? You know this right?” Glancing at Sophia, Geoffrey put the coffee container down. “What is it? Sophia, what’s wrong?”

Sophia shook her head tears falling down her cheeks to the table. “Geoffrey, they did it. They did it, they killed him.”

Geoffrey sat in the kitchen chair next to her. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, he studied her face. Her brown hair was curly in total disarray. Her high cheek bones and brown eyes were filled with distress.

“They, you mean Granger and your mother?” His big hands clasped the black coffee mug, “But, Sophia, he was getting better. The doc said the new Parkinson’s meds were helping him. They found he was able to move his fingers. He was trying to move his lips to speak. Why would they kill him now?” Geoffrey reached over to push Sophia’s short bangs away from her eyebrows. “Wouldn’t it be obvious if they killed him now that he was getting better?”

Sophia sat back, wiping her nose with a dirty napkin. Her eyes pleaded with him to understand, “Geoffrey, they were already spending his money, you know that? Mom, wanted to buy Granger the house on the hill.” Loud voices diverted their attention to the back bedrooms.

Geoffrey lifted his lanky body up from the kitchen chair. He rubbed his head as was his sign of distress. His blue eyes peered out through his glasses, “Sophia, I will take the girls to school. We better get a move on it.” He gingerly rubbed her back and arms, “Don’t let your brother know you know what happened.”

As an afterthought Geoffrey shook his head, “Sophia, how can you be sure? Your father was in bad shape for the last two years. He was almost a vegetable last month until the doc found the new medicine, wasn’t he?”

Sophia leaned forward in the kitchen chair to start rocking back and forth, “Geoffrey, he wasn’t ready to die. He was fighting for his life. He was fighting.”

“Sophia, sooner or later you would’ve had to let go of him. He treated you terribly when you were a child. If it wouldn’t have been for you and the nurse he wouldn’t have had a chance in hell.” Geoffrey pulled her up into his embrace. “Don’t beat yourself up. What’s done is done, but for the love of God, please,” He lifted her face to his, “don’t let them know you believe they killed him! Please!”

Sophia stared through his glass lenses into his eyes, “ Geoffrey, they are my family. I can’t lie to them. I hate lies. I hate all of this!” She pushed away from him, hugging her arms around her waist.

“Sophia, we’re your family now. We are! The girls and I love you! You are our life, too! You can’t go to the viper’s den and tell the truth. It will come back to bite you!”

“Dad,” their nine year old daughter Sybil stood in the hall, “Dad, what’s going on?”

Geoffrey put his arms around Sophia, hugging her into his chest. He spoke to Sybil over Sophia’s right shoulder, “Sybil, grandpa died last night and your mother’s upset. I’m going to take you and Donna to school. Please see to your sister. She needs to have her backpack and her jacket. You need to help me with her this morning, all right?”

Sybil pouted, “Sure, Dad, whatever!” Sybil disappeared down the hallway. Sophia wiped her nose on a napkin. Strawberry jam stuck to her cheek. “Well, I have to clean this up and then myself. Thanks, Geoffrey, for the advice. I will just go and observe. It is important for me to be there and help Mom, I suppose. Although...”

“Just go, call me later. Here come my girls!” Geoffrey took Donna’s pink princess backpack from Sybil’s hand. Donna had obviously been crying. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were flushed. Sophia knelt down to zip up her pink jacket. “Donna, wow, you will be the only girl in First Grade with yellow socks. Stand tall and be proud!”

Donna stared at her ankles, “Mom, they aren’t yellow! They’re yellowish!” Geoffrey wrapped his arms around Donna’s small waist to lift her up to his shoulder. “All right, the magic van is leaving! We shall all return here later for the Star Ship Enterprise lift off!”

Sophia took Sybil’s hand, “You look lovely today, Sybil. How do you like your new green jacket?”

Sybil pulled the zipper to her chin, “I like it just fine, Mom.” Sybil yanked her black backpack strap higher on her shoulder. “Mom, I am sorry about Grandpa, but he was a mean man. He never liked Donna or me much. To be honest, Mom, you are over there all the time and Daddy doesn’t cook anything but macaroni and cheese. We’re beginning to turn orange.”

Sybil rubbed her nose, “Mommy, does this mean you will be home more?”

“Sybil, you are my number one girl and sometimes I have had to count on you to take care of things, but you know this right?”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I can’t do everything!” Sybil laughed at repeating her father’s favorite phrase. Sophia joined her as they went outside into the cold January morning. Geoffrey tooted the horn as he backed the old yellow Dodge van out of their dirt driveway.

Tall mesas surrounded their mountain home on the edge of a cliff. Rocoso was an area of wide open spaces, running canyons, soaring ravens, and strong stark mesas. Sophia stared at the vast expanse of land and sky. “Papa, wherever you are please be out of pain.”

Sophia’s and Geoffrey’s home was at the top of a foothill, sloping off of the Puerco Mountains. It was an undulating landscape of endless open arid land, framed with mesas of sufficient height to interrupt the skyline.

Running into the house out of the cold weather, Sophia called out, “Oh, Spirits, let courage run through my veins!”

3

Calavera, New Mexico

Thursday, January, 1988

Sophia drove down the road of dirt to her mother’s farm. The hard ridges jutting across the road gave it a corrugated texture. At either side of the road were detached properties of Southwestern stucco, many with trees for shade and small gardens consisting of native plants considerably older than the buildings. Barns of elaborate design accentuated the wealth of the neighborhood. Fences of white poles, white wood, or barbed wire separated the mink and manure acreage from one another. Her mother prided herself on living in a prestigious area of elite farmhouses with terraced irrigated fields, the last word in urban elegance.

Her mother’s front drive was filled with cars parked everywhere. The wooden gate reflected traces of care from better days. It was propped open with a block of wood. Old steel hooks hung rusted and broken, swinging in the wind. Two miles west, sitting on a sandstone cliff, six smokestacks broke the open range with thick plumes of chemical smoke. The natural landscape conflicted with the smog and the sterile buildings filled with scientists stamping out computer chips for industries’ latest technology.

Over the years citizens had submitted numerous petitions to close the computer plant regarding documented health issues. The government prefers jobs over health and the industrial center keeps chugging out cancerous fumes to fall on the small farming community.

Skirting around the paramedics’ ambulance, Sophia noticed the Medical Examiner’s van. A sheriff’s cruiser was parked in front of Granger’s metallic green Mercedes. A silver truck was parked at an odd angle beside Granger’s Mercedes and Margaret’s neighbor Charlotte’s white pickup truck. Sophia parked outside of the property. A yellow Volkswagen Bug was backed into a space under her father’s cottonwood tree. The VW had a drooling dog sitting in the passenger seat. Sophia laughed when she saw Daisy dog strapped into her seat belt. Daisy smiled with her brown eyes as Sophia knocked on the window.

Sophia’s scarf was wrapped around her neck and folded into the front of her warm jacket. She wore her old jeans in case she had to muck out the horse’s stall and her brown mittens warmed her hands. The red wool tam Geoffrey had given her for their first Christmas together kept her short hair tucked out of the wind.

Sophia slowly wound her way through the parked cars to her parents’ home. She noticed the stucco high on the wall curling from water damage. The window frames shed skins of white paint revealing discolored wood underneath. She blinked at this dilapidated house. How had it become so run down without notice? The house was certainly in a state of disrepair. Sophia turned when she heard her name being called.

Dr. Milligan was hurrying to her, “Sophia, wait up! Wait for me, please!” He wore his long coat over his white scrubs. His stethoscope was banging against his chest. The wind blew his heavy coat open allowing it to float around him. His reading glasses were on top of his head, keeping his short white hair from lifting.

He grabbed her right forearm, “Sophia, there is no reason for your father to be dead. I suspect foul play. Honestly! Your father was to be elevated forty degrees in his bed. His saliva should have run out of his mouth. There was no reason for him to stop breathing, unless...” Dr. Milligan wiped his white up turned mustache with his gloved hand, “unless, someone put his bed flat.”

Sophia moved away from him. “Doctor, are you accusing my family of murder?”

Dr. Milligan stepped back. He hit the side mirror on the ambulance with his back. “What? Ouch! Sophia, are you siding with them?” He shook his head, “Sophia, we have been a team here. We have been trying to get your father’s life back, weren’t we?”

Sophia turned away from him to enter the stucco cracked home. She heard his footsteps behind her. “Sophia, please allow me to explain. This may have been an accident. Your mother may have not realized how important it was to have him elevated. Do you think she lowered his bed, by accident?”

She needed to see what was being done, what had happened, and who was inside the house. She followed the sounds of voices as she entered. The house smelled heavily of furniture polish. The tile floor had been cleaned recently. A floor to ceiling bookcase on her left revealed stacked books covered in thick dust. They were in stark contrast to the fresh lemon smell, which hovered in the air.

Leaves had blown into the front entry room gathering into a pile under a shelf of knick-knacks. Margaret’s authoritative voice could be heard emanating from the kitchen. Granger’s velvet voice was radiating from the back bedroom down the hall. Sophia chose to go into the bedroom where perhaps she could view her father one last time. Dr. Milligan followed her.

Granger’s formidable presence blocked the painted wooden door to the bedroom. He had on a dark jacket with pinstriped trousers and polished shoes. He was clearly a man with a serious attitude about his position. He invited Sophia and Dr. Milligan into the room with a wave of his well manicured hand. “There wasn’t much chance of him getting better.” Granger’s voice was subtle in tone as he continued, “Ah, here are my sister and his doctor. They took care of him most of the time. I really haven’t seen him lately. My wife and daughter are in California visiting my wife’s family. I have been busy with my medical practice. I haven’t had time to do much for my father.”

Granger reached out to take Dr. Milligan’s gloved hand, “Dr. Milligan, good of you to come. This is a surprise, way above your duty. I would suppose.” Granger gave a respectful nod to the doctor. Completely ignoring Sopphia he left the room. His leather shoes echoed on the brick floor of the hall.

Sophia stared. There in the hospital bed was her Papa. There was no warmth. His brown eyes were frozen staring straight ahead. The Medical Examiner and a paramedic were trying to straighten his body unto his back. There was a long black plastic bag being pushed under his body by a younger paramedic. The smell in the room was a mixture of stale air and pine scent air freshener. Dr. Milligan quickly caught Sophia as she fell back, her knees giving way. “Whoa, girl, hold on there. Death is not something you can approach head on. Would someone get her a chair?”

The young paramedic closest to them grabbed a wooden chair and shoved it to Dr. Milligan. “Here you go.”

Sophia gently dropped into the chair as Dr. Milligan moved to stand next to the Medical Examiner. “So, what’s the verdict, Ralph?”

“Hey, Brian, well, won’t know for certain until I get him on the table. It appears he aspirated, choked. He had fluid in his trachea or in layman’s terms he died from respiratory failure.” The Medical Examiner pointed to Sophia, “She the caretaker?”

Sophia whispered out. “Papa, what happened to you?”

Dr. Milligan turned his back to Sophia as he spoke, “She’s his daughter and helped with Nurse Carol Grover. They both were his constant companions, until last night.”

“What happened last night?”

“Evidently, the deceased’s wife felt that Sophia, the daughter over there, and the nurse needed a night off to be with their families. So, the wife decided to take care of her husband by herself.”

The Medical Examiner lifted his eyebrows, “Well, I guess she did then, didn’t she? There is some petechial hemorrhaging, but not enough to suggest purposeful suffocation. If he was as weak and as his frail as his body appears then he probably aspirated. The bed was flat when we arrived. The wife may have put it down once she saw he was dead. Again, I will know more once I have examined the body thoroughly on the table at the lab.”

The Medical Examiner gently cleared his throat, “Ah, Brian, if the son is in medicine why didn’t he care for his father?”

Dr. Milligan slowly let a smile work its way across his face, “Oh, he told you he was in medicine, didn’t he?” Shaking his head, he smothered a laugh, “Mr. Granger Pino is not a medical man. He has a license to practice pain management with massage and chiropractic skills. The two of us have had problems many a time for he seriously knows nothing about Western medical procedures or Western medicine. Give him rubbing oil and a towel and he goes to work. A stethoscope would be beyond him.”

The Medical Examiner turned to the older paramedic, “Where is Ignacio? He needs to start the interviews with the family.”

The older paramedic shook his head, “He told me he preferred to interview them down at the station.”

“Call him. He needs to be here for this. I know he is shy and cautious, but he needs to follow procedures. I covered for him last time and told him never again. Get him on the radio, get him in here now!”

Dr. Milligan turned back to Sophia, “Let me get her out of here so you guys can get on with your work. I’ll call you later this afternoon.” He turned to Sophia, “Come, we should go and let these men do their jobs.”

She shook her head, “No, I want to see this.”

“Brian, she shouldn’t be here for this.” The Medical Examiner shook his head.

Dr. Milligan knelt down and hugged her by the shoulders, “Come on, Sophia, this isn’t something you need to see. This is a messy job. Please remember your father the way he was ten years ago. Come on, let’s go into the kitchen and get you some hot tea.”

Sophia allowed him to lead her out of the room and down the hall. She quickly came face to face with Carol Grover. “Sophia, come with me. You’re just the person I need to speak with, Sophia, come outside, we need to talk now!”

Carol was of a solid frame. She was five feet tall and five feet wide. She was excellent at lifting patients with her firm muscles. She pushed Sophia ahead of her down the hall. Carol’s frosted dark hair bounced as she walked. Her ready smile was now a stern frown. She followed Sophia out the front door, sideways onto the wooden bench against the front porch wall. Sophia sat down with a groan. “Carol, he’s dead, did you see him? He’s really dead!”

“Sophia, get a grip! You and I both know he was doing better! We both know this! If his bed was kept upright he would still be getting better. Someone put the bed flat or at least low enough for him to not be able to swallow.” Carol’s bright blue eyes flashed with anger as she gulped for air, “I want you to file charges against your brother Granger.”

Carol placed her plump hands on her hips and began to pace, “God, Sophia, I am sorry, but I absolutely cannot stand your brother with his smooth velvet demeanor. He’s repulsive to me, absolutely repulsive. How can you two be so completely different? In all of my fifty-three years on this planet I have never met anyone who is as phony as your brother! How can he stand there as if he is sorry when he is the cause? Sophia, answer me!” Carol stood over Sophia, glaring.

“What do you want me to say, Carol? You want me to admit that he killed my father, his father? I can’t do that, I can’t!” Sophia stared at the dirt ground in front of her. “Besides I heard Granger tell the Sheriff in there he was at home last night. He never came over here to help Mom.”

Carol threw her arms up into the air to scream, “What? You believe that slimy slug? Sophia, how can you believe a word that comes out of his mouth? Are you going to let them get away with this?” Carol gently pushed Sophia so she could sit beside her. Carol’s nose was inches away from Sophia’s. “You know he lives within minutes of here, just over the ditch road? You know this? He’s already using your father’s money to buy the fancy Mercedes he drives! Sophia, what part of this don’t you get?”

Sophia pulled her red cap forward to protect her forehead from the wind, “What do you want me to do? This is my family, Carol!” Sophia stood. “This is my family, as confused and bizarre as it maybe—this is my family. I am not sure what happened, my mind is reeling. My father is dead. Right now what can we do? There is nothing more to do. Carol, there is nothing more anyone can do.”

Carol firmly grit her teeth, “Oh, so, then the deed is done? Is that it? Let’s just bury the man and forget all about this? Sophia, this is a crime! What the two of them did was murder!”

Sophia swung around, “Carol, no! Now you listen to me! My brother, my mother, whoever it was who put my father’s bed down killed him. You know it. I know it and apparently most of the medical staff knows it. How does that make my father any less dead? Huh? How does this help anyone? We are all in mourning and you want to argue and press charges. How is that going to bring my father back?” Sophia wiped the tears from her cheek.

Carol shook her head, “Fine, then! But listen to me, Sophia. I may walk away from here, but by golly I will not forgive. No! I liked your dad, I liked him a lot. Sure he wasn’t the easiest person in the world, but he was getting better! Sophia, you’re just as bad as they are!”

Carol kicked dirt in Sophia’s direction as she walked between the cars to her yellow Volkswagen. Sophia screamed out to her, “I am NOT like them. I am not like them at all!” She flung her red scarf over her shoulder and ran to the barn.

Her mother’s horse stood expectantly waiting for his breakfast. The sixteen hand Quarter horse bay leaned his broad chest on the paint peeling wooden fence. He nodded his head up and down. Sophia rubbed his nose and then hurried through the wooden barn gate into the large metal barn. “All right, Geordie, it’s way past breakfast time.” Sophia scooped some alfalfa and timothy grass onto her cupped forearms. Using her mittened fingers, she lifted the metal latch of the stall gate and dropped the food into Geordie’s empty trough.

“You could probably do with a good brushing. You don’t want to get involved with what’s going on in the house.” Geordie got a good neck rub and a pat on his withers. “It’s hard to believe everyone forgot about you. You perfect animal you!” Sophia removed her right mitten to stroke Geordie on his forelegs. “Your arthritis has gotten worse, huh, old boy?”

Geordie snorted in the alfalfa and timothy grass causing dust to float through the air.

“What’s this on your chest?” Sophia felt a large lump the size of a grapefruit on his shoulder muscle. “Let’s get you rubbed down and your blanket buckled. The weather is turning for the worse and it is cold in here.” After Sophia brushed Geordie, she gathered up his green horse blanket from the neighboring stall. Gingerly placing it on his back so as not to startle him, she buckled the leather belt across his chest.

“Geordie, you haven’t eaten anything. What are you doing with your breakfast? You’re just pushing your food around, making a mess. Are you trying for more attention?” Sophia rubbed his cheek.

The leather buckle that went under his abdomen was buckled and in a fluid movement Sophia reached under his tail to buckle the final belt. This would keep the blanket from moving forward. Her arm came away with a smear of dried blood. “Oh, Geordie, you have blood coming out of your rear end, buddy boy! What’s going on with you?” Sophia buckled the leather belt to study the dried blood from his rectum. “Geordie, everyone was so preoccupied with Papa we didn’t take time for you. We need to get a vet out here to check you. Everyone needs care around here these days.”

Sophia hugged Geordie’s neck as he continued to shuffle the alfalfa around with his nose in the bin. She opened the stall gate to re-enter the main barn. The grey light from the stall doors allowed the dirt particles to dance. Sophia took the plastic cup hanging from a hook on the wall to scoop out a cup and a half of molasses senior feed with bran. “Don’t know about the bran for you seem to have no problem dropping your horse apples, old boy.” Sophia laughed as she poured the mixture into Geordie’s grain bucket, which hung into his stall from a rope on her side in the barn.

“Well, now you’re hungry!” Sophia smiled as Geordie’s eyes sparkled. He licked up the mixture, banging the bucket against the stall wall for more. “Geordie, I wish life was simpler. I would feed you peppermints and ride you across fields of clover.” She rubbed his forehead.

“Hey, thought I would find you here with the ancient horse!” Granger laughed as he came behind Sophia. His fingers tightly latched onto her shoulder. Sophia felt a chill and shuddered at his touch. She ducked down and pulled away from him.

He released her, “Sophia, this has been hard for you. We all know how difficult this is for you and Carol, but you have to let go of what happened to Papa. I am the Papa of the family now.”

Granger moved to stand behind her and started rubbing Sophia’s back. His velvet voice purred out of his white smile, “This is hard to understand, sure, but this wasn’t anyone’s fault. Papa was suffering, lying there. He was dying day by day, night by night, not able to speak. Dad was dead anyway, he just needed to let go.” Granger’s voice became softer, trying to sound soothing, “It’s all right if you want to blame someone. You can blame me if this makes you feel better? I don’t mind. I’m your older brother and it is my duty to take care of you and Mom.”

His gloved hand dragged across the top of the stable door. “Yuck, this place is filthy.”

Sophia smirked, “Granger, it’s a barn not an operating room. Why don’t you leave since you aren’t welcome and I don’t like or want your company?”

He grabbed her upper left arm in a death grip, “Sophia, I’m not the enemy. Understand I care for you and want the best for you and for Mom. But if you need to blame me, like Carol did then go ahead. I will never turn away from you.”

Sophia tugged her arm free from him. Her arm throbbed. Granger stroked his moustache as he spoke to her over his shoulder, “You know, Sophia, we have a history together which gives us an affinity. You and I have a certain awareness of what goes on in this family. Papa may be dead, but you and I still have a true bond.” Sophia rubbed her bruised arm through her heavy jacket. She heard him greet someone as he stepped out of the barn door.

“Granger, been in to check on the animals, have you?”

Sophia could hear Granger chuckle, “Yeah, you said it not me. I better get back to the house now, back to the grieving widow.”

Dr. Milligan called out into the dark cavernous barn, “Sophia, are you in here? I’m going and wanted to share something with you.” He reached to the right and flipped on the light switch. Sophia counted as she had done since she was a young girl. Slowly one by one the florescent barn lights flickered to illuminate. Her father once had told her of a little man who ran from the light switch on the wall, up the wire then to each florescent fixture, lighting them as he ran. When the last ceiling light lit up, Sophia turned to Dr. Milligan. “Hi, thank you for coming, Dr. Milligan. If no one else appreciated your presence I did. This must appear strange to you what with the family, the police or sheriffs, and the whole emotional upheaval. But I’m not ready to point blame at my family for my father’s death.”

“I’ve done this for many years, Sophia, it is important to assist in the grieving process. I am a geriatric doctor after all.” Dr. Milligan leaned against Geordie’s stall gate to watch him lick his grain bucket. “This fellow here doesn’t look so hot. Has he been updated by a vet?”

Sophia frowned, “No, and he has dried blood on his rectum. He doesn’t appear to want to eat his alfalfa and it’s the good stuff like chocolate.”

“I’m not a vet, but his eyes are glazed as well. Perhaps you should mention this to your mother.” Dr. Milligan moved to sit on a bale of alfalfa. “There is one thing that I feel you should be aware of, Sophia. This is for your own safety and is probably none of my business. I bring this up more for my peace of mind than possibly for yours. I want you to be careful now that your father has passed.”

He pulled off his leather gloves and folded them on his lap. Smiling, he studied Sophia, “Carol and I both took an immediate liking to you. Your care of your father appeared to be genuine. At least I believed this to be true?” He lowered his chin to stare at her.

Sophia pulled a stem of alfalfa from her mitten, “Yes, I truly loved my father. We may not have always been friends, but I loved him very much. My care for him was genuine.”

Dr. Milligan nodded, “I believe you. There is something you may know about since you are an ethnology professor. Are you aware of the internecine family? Do you know what this term means?”

“Yes, of course.” Sophia proudly smiled, “Internecine occurs frequently in history. This happened more in royal families than in any other for they had the means and the motive to interact in such a manner. Internecine refers to a disjointed family fighting for power of land, wealth or the throne. This causes slaughter among one another for each person of the family is equally deadly and powerful.”

Dr. Milligan laughed as he clapped his hands, “Yes, you’ve got it, by golly she’s got it! Remember the Henrys of Olde England and how they betrayed and backstabbed each other for the sole purpose of taking control. Remember internecine, Sophia, with this group of people you call family.” He jabbed his thumb toward the house. Shaking his head as he chortled, he backed out of the barn bowing to her. “Madam, I leave you to the piranha of life.”

4

Calavera, New Mexico

Thursday, January, 1988

Sophia pushed through the groups of neighbors on her mother’s back porch. Now and then someone put their hand on her arm or her shoulder to say, “Sorry, Sophia, we are so sorry.” Sophia smiled and bent her head determined to get into the house and warm her hands. Sophia noticed her mother sitting in the living room. Beside her on the wooden stool was a sheriff with a clipboard.

Margaret enjoyed her poise as a self righteous woman with a fragile build. The sitting room was neat and cleanly kept. All perfect in dignity for a householder of Margaret’s age and means. Margaret’s late father’s large, dark landscape oil paintings were carefully placed on the widest area of walls. The predominant color in each of her father’s paintings was a pale blue. This had brought many a comment from viewers who knew Margaret’s father to be a dam builder during the WPA.

A twelve foot by twelve foot Peruvian tapestry similar in style to a Matisse painting hung over the expensive leather couch. The horizontal striped bright colors of the hanging tapestry brought life to the otherwise sedate furniture. Like the rest of the house, the clean walls were white, which in many places had chipped or worn off to reveal a fawn colored brick underneath. The room smelled heavily of lemon furniture polish. Margaret perched on a worn leather armchair in the corner of the room. She leaned forward, listening to the sheriff who was beside her.

When Margaret noticed Sophia entering the sitting room she excused herself. Hurrying to Sophia, she whispered, “This man is interrogating each one of us! I don’t like this at all. He took Granger into your father’s den to speak with him. I couldn’t hear anything they said. What if I say the wrong thing?” Margaret kept glancing back at the sheriff as she spoke.

Sophia took her mother’s hand, “Mom, if you tell the truth you don’t have to worry. It’s when people lie they get into trouble. Tell the man the truth about last night.”

“Sophia, your hands are freezing. Did you feed Geordie?” Margaret lifted to her toes to peer over Sophia’s shoulder.

“Yes, I did. He needs the vet to come give him a check up. Something’s off with his eating and his health appears to have deteriorated.” As Sophia spoke her mother began to cry. “Mom, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Margaret pulled a cotton handkerchief from the sleeve of her sweater, “Oh, Sophia, I miss your father. I wish he hadn’t gotten ill and left us alone to fight for our own. I don’t want to talk to the sheriff right now. Do you think I could speak with him tomorrow? Would you ask him for me, please?”

Sophia shook her head, “Mom, this is their procedure. He wants to ask you questions while everything is fresh in your mind. Do you want him to talk to me first?”

“Oh, Sophia, you are a dear, yes, please yes. You don’t have to tell the Sheriff everything about our family. He doesn’t need to know about the financial problems or anything to do with your brother and father fighting.” Margaret squeezed Sophia’s wrist, “Please just answer the questions he asks, and don’t volunteer anything. I’ll go out and see about Geordie. I could probably call the vet now. It isn’t too early for them to be in the office. Maybe he could come right away?” Margaret hurried around Sophia to grab her jacket and head out the backdoor.

Sophia moved to the dining room table. Beautiful casseroles, plates of chocolate chip cookies, a walnut and spinach salad, and a large butternut cake were placed on the bright red and white table cloth. Sophia picked out a dark raisin bran muffin. She looked up as the sheriff’s deputy walked to her. His heavy jacket with insignia sewn on each shoulder was impressive. He held his brushed cowboy hat in his left hand as he asked, “What happened to your mother, Miss?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Her horse is ill and I asked her to go out and check on him. She will probably have to call the vet. Can I help you with something?” She held the plate of muffins to him. He put his hat on the corner of the table and plucked one off the plate. “Thank you, Miss, you are very kind.”

Sophia smiled, “You’re welcome and you can call me Sophia. I am a married woman with two children. What do you need to know?”

She handed him a paper napkin as he bit into the muffin and crumbs scattered on his shirt. “Oh, thank you. Yes, could we go into your father’s den? I have some questions for you.” As she walked beside him, he continued, “I spoke with the nurse Carol and your father’s doctor. Your brother was vague with his answers and appeared to be defensive. Your mother was polite, but appeared to be mourning and unable to say much.”

Sophia swallowed the last of the bran muffin only to choke on a crumb. The sheriff patted her back, “There, you could use something to drink. I’ll get some water. Enough people in this house have expired from respiration failure.” He did an about face to leave Sophia standing in front of her father’s desk. Papa’s photographs covered the wall behind his desk. Sophia remembered the stories he told relative to the photos of him at a mountain climbing event in Munich where he came in second behind a political diplomat in Greece. Her father’s favorite photo was of himself dancing with a dance hall girl in Paris.

“Here you go.” The sheriff handed her a mug of water. “Couldn’t find any drinking glasses, but there were mugs on the table. Hope it’s all right?”

Sophia took a long drink, “Yes, thank you.” Pointing at the photograph next to the inner door, she laughed. “You see this photo? This is when my father was in Arabia riding a camel. He was asked to tend to a sheik that had become ill while out herding his cattle in the desert. Papa said it was a two day journey, but it took him a month to relearn how to walk without a camel between his legs!”

The sheriff pointed to an old black and white photo, “What is this? It looks like he’s on a mountain with repelling gear and a hard hat?”

“Bingo! You got it. My father lived each day as if it were his last. He loved life fully. You can see from these photos all the people he knew and all the places he had gone. People loved him for he loved to tell stories, share ideas, and heal the sick.” Sophia sipped her water from the mug.

“Sounds like he was a great man, what happened to him?” The sheriff continued to study the pictures.

“He lived too hard at times, I guess. He would work days and nights, taking medications to stay awake and then when he could crash he needed help with that, too. Even when he found out he had an incurable horrible disease, he tried to end his life his way.” Sophia shook her head.

Getting the sheriff’s attention, he pulled out his notepad. “What do you mean he tried to end his life his way?”

“It was gruesome. He knew what he had. He knew how sick he would become and how dependent he would be on his family. Somewhere he got a hold of a revolver and was going to end his life his way, out there, behind the barn.” She pointed to the north. “But then, my mother was suspicious. She had my brother follow my father. My brother Granger took the revolver away from him. Then my mother and brother legally documented my father as being incompetent. They took over his accounts, his stocks, his titles and deeds, everything.”

Sophia leaned against the door frame, surveying all the photos, “This vibrant man became a vegetable. It happened faster than we thought. Within six weeks he couldn’t walk and then within three months he was silent. It was sad, but at least we got to say good-bye to him.” Sophia wiped one of the photos near the bookcase with her index finger, “He was such a beautiful man to have such a pathetic death.”

“Where was he from? The name is not from around here is it?” The sheriff studied Sophia’s face.

“No, he was born in southern Italy. His father was from Spain, but his mother was an Italian princess from some small royal family south of Florence. They moved to Canada after the Second World War. She was incredibly refined, very lady like. She was an artist and a dancer. My father’s father specialized in grapes. He was a vineyardist. Grandpa knew the diseases, bugs, and fungi that could destroy the fragile vines. Grandpa had his signature grape mixtures and supplements. At one point he was in great demand, but then huge vineyards developed their own medical grape staff. His diaries and recipes are over there in the brown leather volumes.”

She sat down in the cloth chair beside the desk. “Grandpa’s work was outsourced with the coming of the telephone and mass production. He was a good man, very quiet, very loyal to family. He died from a massive stroke when I was eleven. My father’s mother didn’t live long after her husband. My grandparents were a spiritual team. They were truly in love.”

The sheriff sat on the short couch across from her. He put out his hand, “By the way, my name is Ignacio Cruz. I’m an investigator detective with the sheriff’s department. It’s standard procedure to ask the family questions when there is a home death. If you don’t mind I need for you to tell me your full name.”

“Ah, we are now getting down to business?” Sophia spelled her last name for him. He asked, “You and your husband live around here?”

“No, not really, we live about seventeen miles north of here at Rocoso on the east side of the interstate. We have two daughters and a fantastic view of the mesas.”

Ignacio leaned back on the couch to cross his ankle over his knee. “When was the last time you saw your father?” Sophia explained how she had bathed him yesterday morning, had fed him lunch through his feeding tube, and was told to go home by her mother at five o’clock. “I wanted to stay and give him his last feeding through the feeding tube, but my mother stated she could handle it. I have full confidence in her. If she felt unable she would have called my brother Granger. He lives across the way over the ditch on Calle Paton. He would have helped her.”

He wrote for a few minutes and then asked, “When did the nurse Carol Grover attend to your father?”

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?” Sophia hesitated for she wanted to be very sure he understood what occurred, “Carol has a wonderful dog named Daisy. Daisy had been playing with the neighbor’s dogs next door. That would be Mr. Perkal and his wife who have the dogs. Daisy was chasing a porcupine and got quills in her nose. Carol had to take Daisy to the vet. She called and asked if I would care for Papa yesterday. The vet had to fit her in as he had a full schedule of clients. I agreed because we help each other out when there is a need.”

Ignacio let out sigh, “I have a black lab that is always getting sprayed by skunks. Yes, we all need help when it comes to our dogs!” He stretched his legs out in front of him, “Did your mother understand your father’s bed was not to be lowered? Was she made aware of how important it was to keep his bed elevated?”

Sophia placed her empty mug on her father’s desk. “I believe Dr. Milligan had made it clear to her. As a matter of fact, Carol made a metal triangle wedge to put under the elevated part of the hospital bed. She jammed it under the back of the elevated frame. The bed couldn’t be dropped. Carol takes excellent care of her patients. She’s taught me a lot about healthcare and patient needs.”

“Would you show me this triangle?” He stood. “It would help to understand if you could show me this device.”

Sophia gulped, “You mean it wasn’t there this morning?”

“I didn’t say that, I just didn’t notice it. Would you show me please?” He walked out of the room into the hall. Sophia felt her face grow hot as she cautiously followed him across the hall into her parent’s bedroom. “Where is everything?’

He pointed to the space where the hospital bed had stood, “I believe your brother called the rental agency. They were here within an hour after we arrived to remove the bed. They had to wait for the OMI to finish his exam before they could take it. The medical examiner or OMI didn’t find anything wedged in the bed frame.” The deputy walked around the empty space, “We searched the room for any devices used in your father’s medical care. There were no triangular metal shapes found.”

Sophia started to back out of the room. He put up his hand, “Ma’am, would you show me what you were talking about, please?”

Shoving her hands into her jean pockets, Sophia shook her head, “I don’t see it. I don’t see it here. It must have been removed by someone else, because it isn’t here.” She swallowed hurriedly.

“Do you think we should ask your mother?” He moved to open the closet door.

“I’m sure my mother wouldn’t know. She wouldn’t be strong enough to remove it. The metal triangle was wedged in there pretty well.” Sophia shook her head, “There wouldn’t be anything in the closet. I think you should ask my brother or the paramedics. I don’t really want to be in here anymore.” Sophia turned away to hide her tears.

“Can I help you find something?” Margaret stood in the doorway to the hall.

Sheriff Cruz turned to her, “Yes, Ma’am, can you tell us about the metal triangle put in the hospital bed by Carol Grover? It doesn’t appear to be here.”

Margaret clasped her hands in front of her chest, “No, Sir, the paramedics took everything related to the bed and to my husband’s care. I am sure they would know where it is, why don’t you ask them?”

“Ma’am, I have a list here that you signed off on regarding the items removed with your husband and there is not a reference to a metal triangle of any size.” He lifted the clipboard to examine it further. “No, no listing for a metal triangle.”

“Sophia,” Margaret focused all her attention on her daughter’s face, “Did you mention this triangle to the Sheriff?”

Sheriff Cruz countered Margaret, “Ma’am, Carol Grover was the nurse who attended your husband and brought this device to be used to keep the bed from being made flat. Is this correct?”

Sophia stood firmly, staring straight at her mother without flinching. Tears fell down her cheeks, but she did not move or speak.

Margaret turned her attention to the sheriff deputy, “Yes, Carol did bring the wedge device to prevent anyone from lowering the bed by accident. She must have removed it at some point for if it isn’t here, then it isn’t here. I have no knowledge as to its whereabouts.” Margaret slowly moved into the room. She began rearranging the framed photographs on the bureau.

Sheriff Cruz flipped the papers on his clipboard, “Mrs. Pino, do you know how your husband’s bed became flat? You were aware, were you not that his bed had to remain upright? Can you explain to me how the bed was lowered?”

Margaret’s hand hit a photo frame, it fell on its side, “No, I can’t tell you how his bed became flat. I have no idea! I resent the fact that you are insinuating I was the one who put my husband’s bed down. I will not answer any more of your questions.” She glared at him, “I need some time with my daughter, if you please!”

“Mrs. Pino, I’m so sorry for your loss, but you will need to give us a statement either here or at the Sheriff’s station. I can take you now in my vehicle or you could come with your daughter. You do have a choice of speaking with me here or at the station.”

Margaret put her hand on Sophia’s arm, “Do you mean to tell me that while I am grieving you plan to take me to jail? Please, all I need is a death certificate, the freedom to bury my husband in his favorite cemetery in Negara and the right to continue on with my life.” Margaret gave a quick dramatic sigh.

Sophia studied Sheriff’s Ignacio Cruz’s reaction. He didn’t miss a beat, “Ma’am, at the moment, we have confirmation that the death of your husband was caused by respiratory failure. We need your details of his death in order for the death certificate to be completed. The death certificate will be released by the funeral home once they receive our final information. Also, we will need to get copies of the Medical Examiner’s full report before we can release the body to the funeral home. It is important for us to find your husband’s cause of death.”

Margaret dabbed at her dry eyes with a cotton handkerchief, “Yes, I understand. My son Granger can take me tomorrow morning around ten o’clock, is that satisfactory with you?”

The Sheriff Detective smiled, “No, this information needs to be completed now, if possible.”

Margaret gave him a childlike smirk, “Oh, well, if my daughter is here, I suppose we could try to finish this now.”

Sophia took her mother’s hand, “Let’s go back into Papa’s office and sit down. Mom, you can take your time. Sheriff Cruz is a patient man and he will be gentle.” Margaret glared at him.

The three of them sat in Dr. Walter Pino’s office. Margaret was noticeably nervous. She perched behind her husband’s desk on his executive chair. Her hands were busy with the pens and pencils. She flipped them around with an irritating and erratic movement. Sheriff Cruz sat comfortably on the wooden chair to her right and Sophia sat on the couch opposite both of them.

Margaret stuttered, “I was asleep. Sound asleep and this odor awakened me. Upon turning on the bedside lamp, I saw my husband’s bed was flat. He was laying flat on his left side, facing the door to the room. His back was to me. I could see his shoulder was not moving up and down, which was a sign of his lack of breathing. He was still.”

Sheriff Cruz sat studying her. “How would the bed go flat if there was no one in the room to push the button beside the bed?”

“You asked me a question and I am answering you. Don’t interrupt, young man, it is very rude.” Margaret sighed, pushing a black pen in a circular motion on the desk. “Once I was up and in my robe, I went over to him. He was not breathing. He was cold. His eyes were open and he was drooling onto the sheet.” Margaret’s tears rolled down her cheeks. “He was dead. He had been still and non responsive when he was alive for so long and then he was dead.”

Sophia frowned, turning to look out the office window, she muttered, “Oh, Mom.” The wind was slacking off and the trees weren’t moving. “Mom, the bed could not have gone down by itself. That is logically and scientifically impossible. Think, Mom, did you hit it by accident? Was the cat in the room? Mom, there is no physical way the bed would move without help.”

Margaret jutted her chin at Sophia, “Oh, you’re going to accuse me as well? Fine, my own daughter is going to accuse me of killing her father. Well, I didn’t do it!” She pushed her hands into a clasp on the desk, “There is nothing more I can say! God’s truth, I didn’t lower the bed. I did NOT lower the bed. Now leave me alone!” She jumped out of the chair, hurried out of the room, slamming the door behind her. It bounced back open after hitting the warped door frame.

Sheriff Cruz placed his clipboard on the desk. “Well, evidently your mother didn’t do the deed, but someone did. Who do you think put the bed down?” He frowned at Sophia.

“I have no idea, except it wasn’t me. I was at home with my family.” Sophia rubbed her hands together, “Sheriff Cruz, you’re the detective so perhaps you are the one who should detect this? Maybe it was the cat?” Sophia gave him a half smile.

“Oh, yes, it was the cat!” He lifted the clipboard off the desk with his right hand. “Better get back to the office and write my report mentioning the cat.” He put out his hand, “Good to meet you, Ma’am.” He left her alone standing in her father’s office. Sophia shuddered as the cold wind rattled the side window.

5

Calavera, New Mexico

Thursday, January 15, 1988

Sophia shook her head as she heard her mother’s neighbor Charlotte speak loudly to an older man in the kitchen, “Oh, yes, she has had help with her fields. She pays a local fellow and he does a good job. Dare say, she won’t be alone. This fellow comes two or three times a week to help around this farm. She just wouldn’t have been able to keep this farm nice what with her husband being so ill and all these last two years. Now, finally Margaret will have more than enough money to keep the place in good standing.”

Picking up another raisin bran muffin from the kitchen table, Sophia turned to study her mother. Margaret sat in the sitting room by herself, waiting for the guests to come to her as the mourning queen. Most of the neighbors were standing outside the kitchen door in the cold wind, talking and sharing stories. Mr. Perkal, the neighbor from next door, had filled his plate with food. He held the plate in one hand and a mug of steaming coffee in the other. He juggled his inventory as he lodged himself onto the couch beside Margaret’s red chair. The cracks in the leather couch widened with his body weight. “Margaret,” his deep voice rolled out, “we’re sorry about Walter. He was a fine friend and will be dearly missed.”

“Yes,” Margaret replied in a high pitch almost a chirp. “Thank you, Mr. Perkal. As you know, my husband has been bedridden for at least twenty-six months.” She tilted her head downwards to grin as a frail ten-year old girl might. Sophia decided to sit beside Mr. Perkal on the couch. Sophia noticed Margaret’s innocent behavior and smirked. Margaret gave Sophia a look of contention, “Couldn’t you have dressed for this occasion, Sophia?”

“Mother, I was getting the girls dressed for school when you called this morning. It was my impression you needed me here regardless of apparel demands.”

Mr. Perkal sniffed, “Cold outside today isn’t it? That wind cuts a person to the bone.” Margaret smiled at him as if he was demented then shifted her attention to Sophia. “Please get me a cup of tea, Sophia. Not that cheap stuff the neighbors brought, but the Earl Grey from in the cupboard. You know the one your brother ordered from England? Oh, and Sophia, get me an English muffin with some strawberry jam. I haven’t eaten yet this morning what with all of the company.” Margaret’s hand flung out to elaborate her words.

Sophia stuffed the remaining raisin bran muffin into her mouth, letting crumbs fall on her lap. “The strawberry jam that Granger brought you from Ireland?”

Margaret nodded as if giving out orders were an everyday event. “Yes, of course.”

Sophia entered into the kitchen’s inner sanctum. The seventy-six year old Charlotte was busy washing dishes and handing out napkins to the guests.

“How’s Margaret doing, dear?” Charlotte appeared frazzled with all of the people who had pushed into the kitchen. Her gray braids danced around her shoulders as she quickly turned to help each person. Sophia shrugged her shoulders as she reached over the stove for the famous Earl Grey tea box.

“Is the water hot in the tea kettle?” Sophia took down a china cup and saucer, no mug for her mother.

“Yes, it’s hot, but I don’t know how much water is still in it. Everyone has been helping themselves and as you can see, most of the folks prefer to be out on the back porch. They appear to choose the cold porch than the warm sitting room.” Charlotte lifted the tea kettle and shook it, “Yes, there’s plenty of water for your mother’s tea cup.”

Sophia returned to the sitting room with a silver tray in her hand. The tray held the china cup on a china saucer. The cup was filled with steaming water and the saucer had the bag of Earl Gray’s tea. A dessert plate held two halves of a toasted muffin smothered with strawberry jam. A tiny butter knife was beside the plate. “Here you go, Mom, your tea and muffin.”

Margaret nodded, “Just put them here, dear.” Margaret patted her lap as she uncrossed her legs. “Mr. Perkal has been telling me about his son who is attempting to get through college. Although, he doesn’t appear to be doing very well, does he, Mr. Perkal?”

Mr. Perkal sat up suddenly as if he had been electrocuted, “Not doing well? Not doing well? He is doing just fine.” He quickly retrieved his fallen plate, “My son has to work and attend classes. This means he pays his own way even if it does take longer, that’s all.” Mr. Perkal started scrambling to stand. Sophia helped him by taking the empty plate from his hand.

Mr. Perkal frowned. “Excuse me, please. I do believe I should be getting home now.” Hurriedly with mug and plate back in his hands, Mr. Perkal was gone. Sophia turned to study her mother. All the neighbors and friends were outside in the blustery wind. “Mum, why aren’t your friends in here with you?”

“Sophia, this is very good, thank you,” and then under her breath, “I have no idea and I find them to be intensely rude.”

Margaret glanced at the backdoor which was directly across the room from her. The fire in the fireplace crackled and spit. “Sophia, dear, would you mind adding another log to the fire? Perhaps if we get the fire roaring more people will come in here for they seem to prefer being outside. “

Sophia knelt by the fireplace. Taking the scoop shovel she moved the dark coals to the side, opening the air to the flames. Two heavy logs were placed on the now roaring orange fire. “Mom, where is Granger? Shouldn’t he be here to help you with things?”

“Oh, Sophia, it is so like you to blame your brother for everything. Your brother did not kill your father.” Margaret delicately nibbled the last of her English muffin. “Why do you hate your brother so much, Sophia? I have never been able to understand why you two hate each other. He was the smart one. You were the slow one, but that is no reason for you two to not like one another.”

Margaret wiped her lips with her handkerchief, “Why, oh, why don’t those people come in here? Sophia, go ask those people to come in here. I am the grieving widow for goodness sake! Go, Sophia, go and get those people in here. I am all dressed and even fixed my hair to entertain and yet they stand out there!” Margaret let out an exasperated sigh as she pointed to the backdoor.

Sophia leaned back on her boot heels as she knelt by the fire, “Mom, we’re dressed in our farm clothes. You look like you’re going to the Queen’s tea. Maybe they feel uncomfortable?”

“Nonsense, Sophia, get them. Don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, get those people in here. They are people who have helped your father and me. They should be in here!”

Sophia pulled her scarf off from around her neck. She walked to the back door. Slowly, Sophia pushed the kitchen backdoor open, “Hey, guys, come inside by the roaring fire? My mother would enjoy your company right now.”

Tommy Ortiz let out a snort, “You mean come in and speak to her ladyship?”

Sophia spoke softly to the crowd, “Come in and warm up. You can speak to Mom if you like or you could just come in and keep her company. What do you say?” She turned back into the house to walk into the sitting room.

She heard the door close behind her and turned. Tommy had gently shut the back door behind her. No one had followed her inside. Margaret gave Sophia a glaring disapproval as she lifted herself with her hands from the chair. She charged across the room to the back door. Margaret grabbed her winter jacket off the hook and while wrapping around her, she quickly opened the door, “Please would you come inside! There is plenty of food and Sophia has stoked the fire.”

Silence ensued and then as if someone had fired a gun, the race began as people hurried around the farmhouse to their vehicles and drove away.

Charlotte’s cackling laughter could be heard in the kitchen, “Sophia, there was no way to get people to move faster! Do you want a cup of tea or some food? There is plenty of food on the table, help yourself?” Sophia watched Margaret as she called after the fleeting masses, “Fine, just leave me alone in my mourning!”

Sophia took a paper plate from Charlotte, “Sure, I’ll get some food in a minute.”

Coming back into the house, Margaret threw her winter jacket at Sophia, “Some help you are! If your brother would have been here he would have ordered those people to come into the sitting room, which is where I will be getting warm. Sophia, you are worthless!”

Sophia returned the winter jacket to its peg by the backdoor. Margaret yelled at her, “Sophia, go into the bedroom and get me my wrap. Your fire appears to be dwindling and let’s not waste anymore wood on your attempts.”

Sophia surveyed her parents’ bedroom. On the floor next to the bedroom door was a small piece of paper. She retrieved it. Granger Pino had signed a credit card receipt at the gas station down the road. The time on the receipt was one o’clock this morning. Sophia stuffed it into her jean pocket. “Well, life is certainly curious.”

Her mother’s crocheted wrap was neatly folded on her bed. Sophia walked down the hall. She heard the sound of plates clattering and then her mother’s famous high pitched laugh with Charlotte admonishing her. Sophia shook her head, “Time for me to leave.”

The tile floor echoed her foot steps as she went down the hall to the kitchen. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen and handed the wrap to her mother. “Mom, I am leaving now. Have chores to run shall speak with you later?”

Margaret dismissed her with a wave of her hand. She and Charlotte were washing up the tea mugs and putting the excess food in her fridge. “Yes, we’ll talk, bye!”

The grey sky reflected the day’s events. Everything was dull with dark clouds hovering overhead giving the appearance of an utterly smooth surface. The air was still. Still enough for there was no movement in the fields of any kind. This blustery, raw morning had allowed the air to settle into a placid peace, a great calm. Sophia bent down to pull the log holding open the oak gate into her mother’s property. There was no need for it now. Then she noticed Charlotte’s truck and let it drop back against the heavy gate.

“Sophia, Sophia, hey, do you have a minute?” Mr. Perkal waved to her as he loped from his opened garage to his wooden gate. Mr. Perkal’s mutts ran aside him barking all the way to the closed gate at the entrance of his property. “Sophia, just wanted to let you know the Missus and I are sorry to hear of your father’s passing. Even though he had been sick for over two years, just his presence gave the neighborhood a sense of peace.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Perkal.”

“Also, we just wanted you to know that if you hear anything about the memorial service, we would appreciate it if you would let us know. We would like to attend.” He tried to zip up his winter jacket, but the zipper wasn’t working. “Anyway, oh, also the Missus wanted me to tell you that when she got up last night, she gets up and down all night long with leg cramps, she saw your brother’s new Mercedes driving away down the drive around four-thirty this morning. She was impressed with his thoughtfulness for he kept the lights off so as not to wake up the neighbors.”

“My brother was here last night?”

“Oh, yes, he was very attentive to your mother’s needs. Listen we have no problem keeping your father’s dog here.” Mr. Perkal reached down to stroke the black lab. “Old Blue is a good boy and is used to being with the others. Your mother gave him to us. Let her know we are proud to have him.”

Sophia’s voice cracked as she spoke to him, “Mom gave you Papa’s dog? I thought she was going to keep him or give him to my brother?”

“No, she said your brother is in the middle of a change in his life and your mother told us your life was too busy for a pet. He’s ours now and we love him.” He scratched Old Blue’s ears. All of Mr. Perkal’s dogs as if on a secret mission turned at once and ran to the other side of his acreage. The grey-brown hound was in the lead, baying at the top of his lungs. “Ah, oh, the porcupine must be back! Better go, talk with you soon!” He scurried off with his heavy winter jacket flapping. Running to the hound, Mr. Perkal pulled the dog’s snout out of the hole near the fence to wave at Sophia, “He’s fine, no porcupine quills this time!”

Laughing, Sophia pulled on her worn mittens. She frowned. Seriously she hadn’t purposely decided to wear her worst winter clothes. They had just been grabbed first out of comfort. Sensing movement from the side of her mother’s house, she stopped.

“Sophia, Samuel Goldfarb just called?” Margaret was waving a kitchen towel wildly in the air. “Sophia, good thing I stopped you! Tomorrow at two o’clock will be the reading of the will at Samuel Goldfarb’s office. You are just the person I need to speak with for Geoffrey needs to be there as well.”

Sophia slowly walked to her mother. “Is his office the one on Fourth and Central downtown?”

“Yes, you can’t miss it.” Margaret grabbed the towel off of her shoulder where she had just put it to wrap it around her hands. “OOO, it’s cold out here. Oh, and Sopha, would you be kind enough to dress in something nice as I have always wanted you to dress? Try to look like as if you were raised with some semblance of dignity!” Margaret ran back to the house, slamming the backdoor behind her.

“Well, yes, some semblance of dignity can be arranged.” Sophia straightened her wool cap on her forehead. Yanking open the door to Geoffrey’s turquoise truck, she noticed the rake and shovel in the back. “Hey, I even brought my own work tools, hah!”

While double choking the starter, a turn of the key brought the old truck to life. Sophia leaned forward over the steering wheel to stare into the early afternoon sky. Speaking to no one, she said, “Granger was driving away from this house in the dark, late at night, with no lights. What do you make of that?”

The clutch was pushed all the way into the floor boards as first gear was shifted in the gear box. The heater was turned high to warm the icy cold of the truck cab. She drove to the stop sign then turned right onto Calle Aspen to drive slowly down the corrugated dirt road to the Calavera highway.

6

Rocoso, New Mexico

Friday, January, 1988

Geoffrey sat up in bed to reach over and turn on the bedside table light, “What is it?” Sophia sobbed into her pillow. He pulled the sheet back from over her head, “Sophia, what is it now? Come on! I have to be at work at seven if I am going to take an hour off for the will business. Couldn’t you cry about your father during the daytime when we don’t need our beauty sleep?”

Sophia suddenlty pulled her knees up, “Yes, Sir!”

“Oh, come on, Sophia, enough already. Come over here.” Geoffrey reached his arm under her shoulders, turned her to his chest, and hugged her. “There you go, now you are enveloped in the quiet peacefulness of your man.” He leaned over her and turned off the bedside lamp. “Go to sleep, my beauty.”

Sophia felt the jolt on the bed before she was fully conscious believing it to be Geoffrey getting up early to go to work, but then the jumping started. This was a herd of girls on attack. Sophia flung back the blankets and grabbed Sybil who was closest to her. “Ahhh, I am going to eat you for breakfast, my sweet!” Sybil screamed and ran into the bathroom. Donna was still trying to crawl up the side of the bed, “Mom, you can’t get me. I’ll eat you first!”

Glancing at the clock on her side of the bed, Sophia gasped, “Run, run, run, we have twenty minutes to be ready and out of the door. Go, girls, go!” She grabbed her underwear and her lavender sweatsuit from the dresser drawers and ran into the bathroom. The girls were giggling as they ran down the hall into the kitchen.

“I get the Sugar O’s first,” screamed Donna.

When Sophia walked into the kitchen she noticed that Sybil had the table set with bowls, spoons, cereal boxes, and napkins. Donna was shoveling in her Sugar O’s as if she would never eat again. Sybil was busy reading the story on the back of the Shredded Wheat box. Sophia put the tea kettle on the stove, turned, reaching into the refrigerator to pull out sliced ham, whole wheat bread, mayonnaise, mustard, and some boxed fruit drinks for the girls’ lunch boxes. “All right, today you both have home made lunches, but you have to tell me what drink you want?” Sophia placed the boxes of fruit drink on the kitchen table.

Donna started to sniff. Sophia quickly grabbed the dishtowel from the rack by the kitchen sink, “Another bloody nose, Donna?” Donna shook her head as blood slowly ran down her upper lip.

“Well, we are prepared!” Donna was lifted upside down by Sophia and carried into her bedroom. Sophia pushed a pink pillow under Donna’s neck and shoulders letting her head fall back with the dishtowel under her nose. “We have the means to conquer this!” Sophia used her powerful voice. Sybil came dancing into the room doing pirouettes.

Sophia joyously clapped her hands as she sat back on the twin bed to watch, “Sybil, we have to get you into a dance class. You are so beautiful when you dance!”

Sybil fell into her mother’s lap. “They don’t have dance classes way out here in the middle of nowhere.”

Sophia lifted Sybil onto her lap to be sure they both didn’t get pulled off the side of Donna’s bed. “We can get you into a class in Albuquerque or Rincon even if you do love to dance out here on the mesa tops!”

Sybil sneered at her mother and ran to her room, “Yeah, right! I don’t like living here, Mom, I don’t like it at all!”

Donna lifted up on her elbows, “Mom, I think I am all right now. Can I get up and get dressed for school?”

The girls were dropped off at their schools. Sybil went to the school in Rincon and Donna went to the school closer to the main highway to Albuquerque. Sophia hurried home to clean the kitchen, run a load of laundry, vacuum the front living room and take a hot bath.

Today she would show up at the lawyer’s reading of the will dressed as a professional woman. Professor Sophia Vinder had only taken off one semester to look after her father. Two years ago, Sophia had finally earned her doctorate. She had worked on sites in twelve foreign countries and had written a profound article on the development of stronger bones once the concept of eating on a regular basis was introduced by agrarian societies. She also had published a book on the development of languages in Central Europe during the middle ages. This last book had won her an honorary award from Cambridge, England.

Her prestige and accomplishments were not going to be represented today in old jeans. Her suit made of red wool with a lining tailored in white silk would be set off by her cream colored turtleneck accessorized with the turquoise necklace Geoffrey had given her for their eighth anniversary. This would be just the ticket to impress her dear mother.

The brick building sat on the corner of Fourth Street and Central in downtown Albuquerque. The renovation of buildings was a new part of the political scene in Albuquerque. Many buildings had been redone to stimulate growth and yet retain the memory of colonialism in New Mexico. Some of the red brick buildings appeared to be boarding houses which probably were renovated brothels or large family houses. The older buildings once in stages of disrepair were now frame and stucco, painted in mustard yellow and red catsup hues the signature colors of the 1950’s.

Samuel Goldfarb’s office was a more modern model. It was a stucco painted white with bars on all the windows giving it the feeling of secrets well kept. There were no other buildings with bars on the windows in the area and this set it apart from the others on the immediate block. Behind Samuel Goldfarb’s office was a hospital parking lot and to the far east of the parking lot was a rehabilitation center.

Sophia parked the yellow van beside her mother’s silver Mercedes, which was parked to the left of Granger’s green Mercedes. Sophia cautiously studied the parking lot to take inventory of who had already arrived. She could see Geoffrey’s turquoise truck parked in the far corner of the parking lot. Geoffrey did that to keep others from banging into his treasured truck. There was a white Mercedes parked towards the back and two other nondescript vehicles parked on the right side of the building’s entrance. Sophia tilted the rearview mirror to study her makeup. Her eyeliner was perfect. The slight touch of rouge on her cheeks gave her a healthy look and her lip gloss was glistening.

The calf- length coat of wool was pulled close to her she ran across the parking lot to the lawyer’s office. The wind was still billowing from the southwest. Pieces of paper and plastic bags blew freely in the wind, slapping against the cars and the sides of the building. As Sophia ran to the steps in her laced boots the door opened. She smiled when she saw Geoffrey holding the door for her. Geoffrey quickly pulled her to his side, “Well, don’t you look marvelous!” He gently took her arm as she tried to move her purse to her opposite shoulder. He yanked her into a side room.

The thickness of the red carpet buffeted their foot steps. The wall paper was a bright blue giving the room warmth, which was in stark contrast to the portraits of men’s profiles framed on the walls. A round table of mahogany stood free from chairs in the center of the room. The linen drapes of glistening gold were held open with brown chords to allow visitors to view the parking lot.

Geoffrey let go of Sophia to whisper coarsely, “Sophia, there are two other men here who are evidently your father’s other sons. A tall man with an ascot is here representing your half sister who lives in Canada. Granger is birthing a bovine. He has made it clear to Samuel Goldfarb that only he is the inheritor of your father’s estate and they are not welcome.”

A booming voice interrupted Geoffrey’s quiet dialogue, “Sophia and Geoffrey, you both are here! Excellent, come in and let’s get started.” Mr. Goldfarb reached out his hand to Geoffrey who took it with a firm congenial shake. Sophia put her hand out, but Mr. Goldfarb was already walking out of the room and down the hall. Sophia was amazed at the thick rich carpet yet wondered why it was scarlet red. “Geoffrey, do you believe there will be a confrontation?”

Geoffrey shook his head, “We shall see. I do believe this is going to be very interesting.”

Mrs. Margaret Pino, the bereaved widow, sat in the largest chair in the room. It was a Queen Anne chair with golden embroidery of flowers and birds. The arm rests on the sides allowed her to rest her arms comfortably as royalty. To her right was a wooden table graced with a tray of tea cups and a plate of biscuits. As Sophia and Geoffrey entered, Margaret pointed to the table beside her, “If you want something to drink help yourself.” Margaret’s right hand gently waved over the tea cups and biscuits as if giving a blessing.

Geoffrey choked down a laugh, “No, my lady, I do believe we are sufficiently fulfilled.”

She shrugged pulling her suit jacket of gray linen down to her waist. “I guess Mr. Goldfarb wanted me to be the servant in the room.” Margaret lowered her head to look at Geoffrey coyly.

Sophia and Geoffrey sat in two straight-back wooden chairs toward the back of the room. She quickly noticed that Geoffrey was the only person in the room wearing jeans, but at least Geoffrey’s white shirt was well ironed and his turquoise bolo tie gave him a very stylish look. There were two tall men sitting in straight back wooden chairs on the opposite side of the room. Both men were dressed in nicely tailored black suits with striped ties. They nodded at Sophia and Geoffrey who returned the nod. Geoffrey quickly took Sophia’s hand in his.

Mr. Goldfarb cleared his throat, “We are waiting for one other person to enter the room. I believe he is freshening up at the moment.”

A hand was raised to the left of Sophia. She leaned forward to find a young man in his thirties who was smiling. “I’m back, thank you, you may proceed.” The man’s ascot tie of purple paisley made an impression as it was tied firmly at his neck. He had a high forehead, a brown goatee, and a warm face.

Samuel Goldfarb’s short height was not noticed now that everyone was sitting. Mr. Goldfarb pulled his reading glasses out of his pinstriped suit as he walked to his desk. Granger followed and then stopped. He appeared subdued as he did not fully enter the room, but stood leaning against the door jam fidgeting with his car keys. Sophia smiled at him, but Granger ignored her. Mr. Goldfarb sat behind his desk to open a heavy brown folder. The rubber band snapped as he withdrew a thick bundle of white legal papers.

“All right, it is my duty as the legal representative for Dr. Walter Pino to inform you of his wishes in regards to the dissolving of his estate. I am going to ask that everyone please be quiet until the reading of the will is completed. If anyone has anything they wish to ask or anything they wish to define this will be done once we have completed the reading. Does anyone have any questions at this time?”

Granger coughed, “I thought we weren’t to speak until you were finished?”

Mr. Goldfarb gave Granger a warning glance and continued. “This meeting of the family is not legally necessary in the state of New Mexico. However, my client Dr. Walter Pino asked in his will for the family to convene in my office for the reading of his will.

“Now this will is almost one hundred pages in length and it is not necessary for all of it be read to you today. Rather than read each request of the deceased, it may perhaps be more expedient if I outline the contents that are related directly to those of you present in the room?”

Everyone in the room made an expression of agreement and Mr. Goldfarb continued. “Dr. Walter Pino gave instructions that his estate was to be assessed, liquidated and proceeds divided after these bills had been paid. If anyone of you would like a copy of this will I have copies available to you.”

Margaret put up her white gloved hand to stop Mr. Goldfarb, “Excuse me, but didn’t my husband have several charities that he wished to give monetary aid?”

Papers were shuffled in Mr. Goldfarb’s hand, “Yes, but before any funds can be moved or relocated I have to research for assets and liabilities. These may have occurred prior to your husband’s demise and would reflect on the final sum to be distributed. These will have an affect on the bearing of funds and limitations of assets.”

Mr. Goldfarb moved ahead to the decided development of property and monetary inheritance. “Starting with the youngest of Dr. Walter Pino’s children is his daughter and her husband Geoffrey. The deceased states and I quote, ‘the mutual property which we own together in Rocoso shall be remanded completely to Geoffrey and Sophia with no further debt being due to either my wife or my sons. The property at Rocoso Mesa shall be now placed free and clear into the name of Geoffrey George Vinder and his wife Sophia Lucia Pino Vinder. This property is the home of my daughter, her husband and my two granddaughters and the title and deed shall upon my demise be given to Geoffrey and Sophia with no further financial responsibility.’“

Granger burst out laughing, “That ain’t gonna happen. We already have put the deed and the title in my name thanks to Mom. Geoffrey, there is no way in hell that you’re going to get my property as long as you are married to my sister!”

Sophia felt Geoffrey’s body jerk and then freeze. His jaw was set, his fingers began to jingle his change in his pocket, and his left foot started to shake. Sophia whispered, “Geoffrey, are you all right?” Geoffrey turned to give her a steely cold stare, “No,” was all he said. Sophia returned her focus on Mr. Goldfarb..

Mr. Goldfarb stopped speaking to remove his reading glasses, he stared at Granger. “Sir, you are to refrain from speaking until the completion of the will has been read, do you understand?”

“Yes, but what you are reading is fiction! Mom and I have already moved properties and stocks into my name and I am her legal executor. What is the purpose of reading this piece of crap if none of it is true, Sir?” Granger left the door frame to saunter into the room with arrogance as he put his hand on Margaret’s shoulder. Everyone waited for her to confirm his remark.

Geoffrey gulped air as if he was trying to swallow. He stared at Sophia. Sophia’s face was beet red and her hands began to shake. Not being able to contain herself, Sophia stood, “Granger, either sit down and shut up or leave! You really enjoy being a horse’s ass, don’t you? If you can’t respect the dead then just get the hell out of here!” Sophia started to lunge toward Granger, but Geoffrey jerked her back into her chair. He whispered under his breath, “It isn’t worth it, Sophia, just let him be.”

Granger had whirled around to face Sophia. His face was frozen in a smirk, “Sophia, you don’t know anything. How dare you refer to your father as ‘the dead?’ What kind of cretin are you?”

Narrowing his eyes in anger, he gloated, “Mom and I have been busy all these months while you have been taking care of Papa. We’ve been busy moving, shoving, and taking control and you...you...you, Miss Pollyanna, looking after poor Papa the Helpless. Well, you chose the wrong side to hang with, Missy Prissy.”

Geoffrey shook his head at him, “Granger, please just be quiet and let’s get this over with for once and for all.”

Margaret took her son’s hand, holding it gently at her side. “Granger, please be polite. I need everyone to get along. You’re the one I depend on now in my time of need. Please, try to get along.”

The two men on the far side of the room watched with indifference as Mr. Goldfarb’s glasses were returned to his pointed nose and the reading continued. Sophia stared down at Geoffrey’s polished cowboy boots. She wasn’t going to take Granger’s bait again.

Mr. Goldfarb’s voice rolled on and on. It appeared to never end, until he came to the part regarding extended family. “To my two older sons, I do hereby leave the sum of ten thousand dollars each. This is done out of love for them and pride in their abilities to become fine young men in a solid profession with fine families. This sum cannot be redirected nor shall it be, for the monies they inherit are in a separate account, which only Mr. Goldfarb has access to at this time.”

Granger flinched, Margaret gasped and Geoffrey smiled. The two men shook hands. Mr. Goldfarb continued, “My daughter Cynthia shall receive ten thousand dollars in investments. This money has been invested for her by Thornton and Thornton and can only be removed by her and/or her family only with confirmation of identification and her birth certificate. She is to receive also five thousand dollars kept for her under Samuel Goldfarb’s care for her family.”

The young man with the ascot stood and nodded to Mr. Goldfarb, “Thank you for taking care of Cynthia.” The man quickly sat back down. Granger glared at him, “Who the hell are you and what right do you have to be here? Obviously you are not Cynthia!”

“Oh, dear, Granger, shut up!” Mr. Goldfarb slammed the flat of his hand on the desk. “Granger, sit down. Your sister Sophia is correct. If you will not be respectful get out or be quiet. Choose one or the other, but I will not tolerate your rude abuse.”

Granger smirked, “What’re you going to do if I don’t?”

Mr. Goldfarb’s face turned bright red, “I shall call the guard and have you physically removed.”

Margaret patted Granger’s hand on her shoulder, “Please, son, let’s be civil and continue with these proceedings. We have what we want. Just be still.” Margaret whispered, “I am proud of you. Granger, you are my own personal Dr. Pino. We’ll have it all taken care of, right?”

Granger walked to the back of the room, leaning on the door jam, he fidgeted with his car keys. Mr. Goldfarb’s voice now rang with deep intolerance, “My son Granger shall receive the total sum of five thousand dollars for he has not decided on a true profession. He has weaseled his way out of most institutions of higher learning and if he does decide on a profession I am of full confidence that he will be able to provide for himself and his family with his own personal income.”

Mr. Goldfarb concluded with the location of the cemetery to hold the funeral and the location of the memorial service. “This concludes the reading of the will. Now do we have any questions or information to add?”

Granger sneered, “Aside from the fact that my father no longer owns the property given to Geoffrey and Sophia for it is now in my name. Aside from the fact the monies given to my evidently two half brothers is now in my possession. Yes, and all the stocks and mutual funds bequeathed to anyone else are now in my control. Do you mean relevant information such as that?”

Slowly, directly and with full intent Mr. Goldfarb removed his glasses. He put them in his upper suit pocket. “Granger, you and your mother’s actions have yet to be proven as legal within the state of New Mexico. What you have done is underhanded to your departed father’s wishes and your actions are totally unethical. Yet, when your father was alive there was nothing we could do about what you both did.” Mr. Goldfarb pushed his chair back, stood, and walked to the corner of his room where he removed a legal folder. He took it to his desk.

“As for your two half-brothers, their money is here in this envelope and shall at this moment be given to them by me. Neither you nor your mother had any knowledge of it, nor do you have the ability to touch this money for it been in my possession for the last fifteen years.”

The two men in the back stood, both of them well over six feet. They both walked to Mr. Goldfarb and shook his right hand before the tallest man took the envelope. “Thank you, for your consideration, Sir.”

Goldfarb nodded back, “You need to sign this legal document stating you have received your inheritance. I will notarize your signatures. Please sign here and here.” A white document was unfolded and the two men signed. Mr. Goldfarb pulled a leather case from his top drawer to press a seal onto the paper. The taller man nodded to Mr. Goldfarb and then walked over to Sophia.

Both men had the facial features of the Pino family. They both had inherited their father’s Mediterranean nose and warm brown eyes that radiated with a smile. “Ma’am, my name is Stuart Pino. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am a contract lawyer and would like to offer you my card. Both of us have followed your work and are very proud indeed of your accomplishments.”

The man next to him put out his hand to Geoffrey, “I am Giorgio Pino from Georgia. I am a violinist with the Atlantic Philharmonic Orchestra and a retired veterinarian.” Giorgio’s smile filled his whole face, “Glad that I haven’t met that shark before this,” he jutted his thumb toward Granger, “and hope to forget about him promptly. Good luck with his ruthlessness and his mother’s deviousness is beyond words.”

Giorgio turned to Sophia, “Dr. Sophia Pino, what an honor to finally meet you. My brother and my family have been most proud of your work. We have been following your career. We coerced the Smithsonian to sell us your group film on the development of languages during the transitions of the Middle Ages. My children loved it as did my wife and I. What a thrill it must to have been—to be able to decipher those languages. Hope we meet again.”

Abruptly Margaret wrenched her neck around to yell out, “Sophia never made a movie and she has not published articles! That is all a farce! Granger is going to write a book, aren’t you dear? He will be the author of the family and as far as her being a doctor, well, we all know what a lie that is, don’t we!”

Giorgio and Stuart shook their heads at Margaret but gave a nod to Geoffrey and to Sophia. As they departed the room Giorgio turned and waved to Mr. Goldfarb.

Another white envelope was pulled from the brown folder. “Mr. Voltaire, here is the check for your wife. I am sure this is a thankful welcome with all the expenses you have. Thank you for coming all this way on such short notice.”

The tall man with the goatee and ascot hurried to the front desk. He took the envelope with a slight bow and then stuck his hand out to the lawyer. “Thank you so much, this should help save Cynthia’s life.”

Goldfarb nodded, “At least it will make her life a bit more comfortable. The numbers to her accounts and the final tally are also in the envelope. Again, I apologize for the expense of coming all this way.” Mr. Voltaire turned away from the audience to fleetingly disappear out the door. A soft wind blew through the room as the front door closed behind him.

“Thank God that is over!” Margaret stroked the arm rests on the Queen Anne chair. “What right does Mr. Voltaire have to Walter’s money and what was he doing here? I have a right to know as the deceased’s widow.”

The lawyer sank into his executive chair. His face reflected his sixty plus years. His eyes hardened as he answered Margaret, “Cynthia has terminal cancer and is in a special hospital in Montreal. He is her husband. They have a four year old son. Please leave them alone.”

Margaret laughed, “Serves her right taking our money. Now let us inform Geoffrey and Sophia about the property of Rocoso.”

Geoffrey walked up to Mr. Goldfarb’s desk, “Yes, what the devil is going on with the ownership? Walter and I had a written personal agreement just between the two of us?”

Mr. Goldfarb focused on a spot on his desk, “Evidently, Mrs. Pino here and her lovely son Granger went to another lawyer a Mr. Costa in Santa Fe. They had all of the ownership of property, stocks, and mutual funds, which were in Dr. and Mrs. Pino’s names transferred to Granger as executor.” He nodded to Granger who was busy rearranging legal books on the back shelves, “They had Dr. Pino confirmed incompetent two years ago.”

Granger turned, dropping a book, “No, when he tried to kill himself with his revolver that’s when we got the order.” He waved a black leather book at Goldfarb, “My mother took photos of him trying to shoot himself, but I’d already removed the bullets from the gun. This was sufficient evidence to acknowledge he was not in his right mind or able to retain control over his responsibilities.” Spittle ran down Granger’s chin.

“Come here, Granger, come here.” Margaret waved her hand at him. She took a linen napkin from the tea tray and wiped his chin. She finished the thought for him, “We had no choice for we couldn’t trust Papa anymore, now could we? He was going to leave poor Mom destitute.”

Sophia sat stunned. Geoffrey pulled his keys from his denim jacket pocket and walked out of the room. He would go off and mull this over. They had paid all but six months of their loan to her father regarding their home and now they were no closer to owning it than the first day they had signed the agreement. Sophia looked around her, she wanted to leave the building, but her legs wouldn’t hold her. Margaret and Granger were quietly whispering to one another as Mr. Goldfarb was stacking legal papers together. He glanced up at Sophia who tried to smile, but tears fell down her cheeks.

Granger was busy helping Margaret with her coat and her gloves. He appeared pleased with the situation. Sophia found a tissue in her leather purse. Mr. Goldfarb fell back in his chair to watch Margaret put her arm through Granger’s as they departed the room. Mr. Goldfarb cleared his throat, “Is there something I can do for you, young lady?”

Words did not come for she felt cold and unable to speak. Mr. Goldfarb moved to sit down next to Sophia and took her hand, “I know you’re in shock. Please know this is not what your father wanted for the two of you. He loved you very much and was very proud of you and Geoffrey.”

Sophia studied his black polished shoes with short laces. Mr. Goldfarb continued, “I wanted to call you and warn you a hundred times about what Granger and Margaret were doing, but legally I couldn’t.”

Mr. Goldfarb reached to turn Sophia’s face towards his, “If I were you, I would be ever so careful with the two of them, ever so careful. They are greedy, wanting to take the goodness from your father and turn it into their own benefit. If I can help you, I will. Although right now I know financially you don’t have the means. You could ask your half-brother Stuart for help?”

“No, he shouldn’t get pulled into this mess.” Sophia pulled herself to sit straight in the chair, “There shouldn’t be anyone else who has to suffer through this. Mr. Goldfarb, what did Granger mean when he said that as long as I am married to Geoffrey the house would belong to him?”

“Well, it is complicated, but the short of it is as a family member and as part of the agreement with the property, Granger holds the title. If you and Geoffrey get divorced then the property will reverse back to Geoffrey through lack of family ownership.”

Mr. Goldfarb moved to the bookcase where Granger had rearranged his books. The black leather bindings on the books with gold script appeared to be heavy. “This was what they wanted. In order to control you and your daughters, the legal agreement was for you to remain under Granger’s control. If you decided to divorce Geoffrey then Granger will give the Rocoso property to Geoffrey free and clear. In the legal world we refer to this as the ‘Spider’s Web Syndrome.’“

The tissue in Sophia’s hand fell to her lap, “He wants me to remain within the Pino family as a trapped fly?”

“To put it indelicately ‘yes’ he wants to have full control over you and your finances, which he considers part of his estate.”

Two of the black leather books were heaved out from where Granger had placed them and put in their proper order, “For some reason Granger believes that he is owed the full amount of his family’s estate. He is an angry demanding man who will not rest until he has all the money he can get from everyone in the family. God help the two half-brothers. I am sure they are his next target.”

Mr. Goldfarb sat down behind his desk. “What happened to your brother to make him so vindictive?”

Now the room felt hot to Sophia. She let her coat fall from her shoulders to her upper arms. “He was raised with the old adage ‘Spare the rod, Spoil the child.’ Both of us were. Yet somehow Granger took it all personally, very personally. Many times I stood between him and my angry father to deflect blows and words, but Granger was the victim who being vulnerable would cry, or hide, or sulk. At one point Granger even dug a dirt room under his bedroom floor to hide from my father. I received the reward from this with broken noses and bruises, but Granger didn’t see what I was being put through, he only saw his own victimization.”

Sophia moved to stand at the window watching the wind blow a scarf across the main street, “Granger is bitter. All of this broke him. I knew my friends had fathers who did the same. We would talk about it. But Granger crawled inside of himself. Now he denies everything to state what a lovely family upbringing we had. He thinks our painful youth is a figment of my imagination.”

She turned back to Mr. Goldfarb, “Margaret promoted my father’s wrath for us by her whining and suffering. She manipulated my father into his fits of anger and hitting us. The whole affair was dysfunctional to the point of bizarre. My mother was almost twenty years younger than my father. She never had a fixed father figure because her mother was divorced when she was a baby.”

Reaching down to pick up the fallen tissue, she continued, “I have no idea why I am telling you this. Granger is not to be absolved of his greed or the torture he inflicts on others. Perhaps I want to protect him for somehow he is seriously sick, but when he hurts my family and those I love, I just want to throttle him myself.”

“Or else,” Mr. Granger studied Sophia’s troubled face, “Or else, he is fully aware of what happened and has a devious plan to take all the money from your mother, from you, from whoever he can to make up for the pain he suffered as a child. This could all be an act. Personally, I find him dangerous.”

“Yes, he is a conniving fellow. Perhaps because of his pain he wants to inflict pain on others.” Sophia sat in the Queen Anne chair, “This really is very comfortable.” She stroked the arm rests. “You are very thoughtful to provide tea and biscuits, Mr. Goldfarb. This is old world charm at its best. I commend you for your polite traditionalism.”

“Thank you, Sophia. One thing you should know is a probate can be filed with the county clerk, but a probate hearing is questionable and sometimes challenged and usually does nothing to further validate or invalidate the legality of your father’s will. I am sure both Granger and your mother have already covered every single legal possibility to retain what they have done. Be careful in your decisions.”

The clouds hovered over the mountains like thick fat waves of whipped cream. The brown terrain was desperate for moisture as the solitary rabbit bush flayed back and forth in the wind. The van creaked and groaned as the wind pelted the driver’s side. Donna was asleep in her car seat and Sybil was busy reading a book in the back seat. Sophia glanced at their quiet faces in the rear view mirror. Life was to seriously change with Granger now in control. Heavy clouds on the horizon gave fair warning of a storm moving their way.

7

Rocoso, New Mexico

Friday, January, 1988

Dinner was finished with morbid solitude. The girls were not even energetic enough to carry on a conversation. Geoffrey dragged his fork around his plate, pushing his chicken from side to side. Sophia tried to swallow some mashed potatoes, but they stuck in her throat. Donna was disappointed for after school today Sophia had stopped at the department store and bought Donna a pair of bright pink Mary Jane socks for Monday. Sybil was reading at the table, again. Neither Geoffrey nor Sophia had the desire to make her put the book down. At least she ate most of her dinner.

Geoffrey gathered the messy plates and carried them to the sink. “Come on, girls, it’s time for our Friday night movies. Daddy stopped at the Movie Store. We have Bed Knobs and Broomsticks for the late night movie, come on!” He grabbed a giggling Donna around the middle and carried her into the family room. Sybil didn’t move except to turn a page of her book on science fiction. “Sybil, you can help me with the dishes, all right?” Sybil nodded without looking at her mother.

Sophia sighed as she pushed her chair back to clear the table. The movie sound blared down the hall into the kitchen. Sybil looked up, “Did Dad get a movie?”

Sophia smiled, “Yes, he told us at dinner, but evidently we weren’t interesting enough for you, right?”

Sybil raced to her mom and gave her a hug, “Oh, Mom, I love you, you know I do! Everyone was so sad at dinner. I didn’t want to catch it so I read. What is going on with you two?” She pointed to the family room and at her mother. Sophia shook her head, “Go watch the movie. It’s a fun movie with only a few scary parts you will enjoy it. Go!”

As Sophia washed the dishes in the deep stainless steel sink in the kitchen, she glanced up at her reflection in the dark window. She was five feet ten inches tall. She was not plump, but definitely she was not thin. She had short curly hair with walnut eyes. Her features were definitely more Mediterranean looking than Chicano. Sophia smiled, thinking about her mother Margaret who always made it a point to remark how her children were Mediterranean not Chicano or Hispanic.

The dishes were dried and the kitchen table scrubbed clean. Sophia heard the television go off and Geoffrey making ‘time for bed’ noises. She threw the dish cloth on the counter. She was his backup for their ‘put the girls to bed’ routine. Sybil was in the bathroom brushing her teeth while reading her book. Getting toothpaste on the page, she tried to wipe it off with her toothbrush.

“Sybil, really, just put the book down. Pay attention to those new permanent teeth.”

Both girls satisfactorily in bed with hopes of them sleeping, Geoffrey beat her to the living room. He sat in his recliner holding a pillow against his middle as if he needed it for protection. Sophia slid into her rocking chair facing him. “Well, what do we do now?”

His solemn face frowned, “Spoke with a lawyer today at work. He gave me the skinny on what happened with your father’s will or trust or distrust or whatever you want to call it.” He reached over to his jacket that had been tossed on the couch. He pulled out some legal papers. “Here is the gist of what happened. I am still stunned, Sophia, totally stunned.”

Sophia shook her head, studying his eyes through his thick lenses. “Aren’t you industrious going for the legal side right out of the gate? Go on, I’m a big girl, I can take it.”

Geoffrey gave her a wink, “The lawyer explained to me a clause in the legal world pertaining to someone who is incompetent. The definition of which I have right here.”

Lifting the papers closer to his face, he read. “It describes the importance of the mental condition of a person who is subject to legal proceedings.” Geoffrey glanced at Sophia as he continued to read from the long white paper, “New Mexico law describes the legal qualification of ‘a person’ as a person who must have the ability to perform professional functions.”

Geoffrey paused as if he was waiting for Sophia to respond, then he looked at her over his glasses as he asked, “Do you understand this part?”

Sophia nodded, “But the problem is that he was not incompetent when he wrote the original will or trust. He just became incompetent when his illness progressed. So how did they make this work?”

“Well, this is just the statement that Granger gave to us at Goldfarb’s office. This is not the legal ramification of it all!”

Sophia smiled, “Get down, Geoffrey, aren’t we using the big words now?”

“Damn straight, evidently this was more Margaret than Granger. The legal manipulative faction they used was related to the time when your father Walter Pino attempted to change his will. Your father wanted to not give anything at all to Granger and to move the majority of his funds to the UNM Medical Research Department for the research of Prostate Cancer disease, which he was diagnosed as having. This seriously upset Margaret for she had inherited the majority of that money from her mother and considered That Money to be Hers not His.”

Geoffrey held up his index finger, “All of this occurred about two weeks after he had attempted to buy a revolver and blow his brains out and Granger found him.” He held his finger to his head and jerked it back, “‘I’m sure your brother’s attempt to thwart your father from committing suicide was seriously upsetting. This left Margaret with only one alternative, which she used wisely in her task. She found the lawyer Mr. Alfredo Costa in Santa Fe, who specializes in the elderly and mentally unstable, and went after Walter’s attempt to change his will.”

“Geoffrey, why did she want to move everything over all at once? Wouldn’t this look suspicious to some?” Sophia took the folded blanket off the couch and covered her legs.

“Wait, let me continue.” Geoffrey cleared his throat to use his professional voice as he read on, “This deals with Legal Incapacity. It requires a person to be legally competent in order to enter into a contract, sign a will, or make some other type of binding legal commitment. A person may be judged incompetent by virtue of age or mental condition. A contract made by a mentally incapacitated individual is voidable or invalid. This means a person can legally declare the contract void, making it unenforceable.”

Geoffrey stopped to pick up the next page. Sophia asked, “Is this much longer?”

“Wait, this is the finish and it comes with a phrase that you will remember.” Geoffrey held the paper, “A person who executes a will must be legally competent. The traditional recital in a will states that the testator or the maker of the will is of “sound mind.” This language attempts to establish the competency of the testator.”

Sophia shook her head, “In other words Margaret made herself guardian of her husband’s will since he was in the process of changing it when she deemed him mentally incapacitated. Then she made Granger her executor to further confuse the issue and passed the properties to him thus clearing any judgment against her. This is extremely well thought out for the two of them. Do you believe it is just the two of them?”

The papers were folded in Geoffrey’s lap as he answered, “Somehow this is too complicated for your brother, but your mother? Yes, she could pull this off. Remember she was made a millionaire when her mother died. All of her money became your father’s money when they married. Your mother, believing the men should hold the power of the family, gave him her wealth. Your gregarious father had no problem spending her money. Your father told me how he helped his patients by giving them financial aid. He gave his patients money to fill prescriptions, to pay their gas bills and to buy food. It didn’t end there.”

Geoffrey pushed his recliner to recline, “Remember how your father after he retired was buying expensive fishing equipment, going to Europe, and traveling with women from all over the globe? Your mother played the role of victimized wife yet she wouldn’t go with him on his trips.” Geoffrey laughed, “Your mother had to stay home and grow food for the starving children of the world.” He quickly put out his hand, “No, wait she had to watch the hired help pick up the horse apples. She had to stay home and monitor the horse apple pickers for if they weren’t picked up correctly the world would end, right?”

“No, she had to stay home to keep the planet on course.” Sophia threw her shoe at him, “You know I couldn’t understand why she didn’t go with him? Why didn’t she go and kick up her heels, have fun, see the great museums or go to the top of the mountains in China. He would have loved to have had her with him.”

Geoffrey frowned, “Sophia, your mother and father had strange attitudes toward marriage. Their commitment didn’t appear to be to one another. It was as if she wanted to suffer. Being married meant she had to be tortured or in pain.”

Sophia pulled off her other shoe, “She was raised to be penitent, and perhaps she felt she had to suffer if she was happy or married or who knows?”

Jerking the recliner forward, Geoffrey stretched and stood, “You know I am bone tired after all of this. It is time we had some libation to help us appreciate our situation.” He tossed Sophia the folded papers, which she caught in her right hand.

“Geoffrey, why would they go to this much trouble to change the whole of the will or did they just declare the whole of the will void, as it says here?” Sophia studied the papers.

“What?” Geoffrey was pulling on his jacket.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going out to the truck. I stopped at the liquor store and got us some whiskey. I plan to get heavily sedated tonight.” Geoffrey smiled at her as he pulled open the front door.

Sophia mumbled under her breath, “or inebriated.”

The martini went down dry as Sophia swallowed. Then she started to cough, “Geoffrey, this is way too strong!”

“Just drink it. Sophia, this is medicine after getting kicked in the head by your family. Don’t argue with me, just enjoy it.” Geoffrey swirled his cognac in a Mickey Mouse glass that was bought at Disneyland years earlier.

Sophia winced as she sipped her drink, “What are we going to do? Are we just going to stay here and pay off the loan or can we sell the house? We could move somewhere else after getting our half from the house.” Sophia tried to keep the martini glass as far from her as possible.”What does Granger gain if we are divorced? I don’t understand why he wants us to live separately. Geoffrey, this seems pathological to ruin someone’s marriage.”

“Nothing, there is nothing, absolutely nothing that we can do. We could pay off the loan or not. Therein lies a choice,” Geoffrey’s eyes gleamed, “we can take out another mortgage and then another never paying off the house completely ever!”

“What good would that do? How would that get us out of this mess?”

“Ah, my sweet, we shall make Granger sorry that he ever got involved with the Vinder family. We can take out one loan or mortgage after another thus never paying off the loan, thus never giving him any authority over us in any form. We are the one’s who must pay off the loan and if the loan on this property is never paid off then he has no hold over us at all.” Geoffrey lifted his Mickey Mouse glass to the ceiling, “My dear, he shall regret messing with me!”

Sophia put her martini down on the side table, “Geoffrey, you are as evil as he is. I don’t approve of either of you. We need to pay off this loan. We don’t want to be in debt. At least I don’t nor do I want my daughters burdened with a huge debt when we die. What are we going to leave them if we are so entrenched in debt there is nothing left for their college or marriage or travel?”

Geoffrey smirked, “Too bloody bad. Those girls are on their own thanks to your mother. Sophia, this is your entire mother’s fault as well as your fault and if you don’t mind it is the fault of the whole Pino blood line. I have no respect for any of you, not anymore!” He swigged down the liquid in the glass in one swallow. “There you go and now I’m off to bed.”

Stunned with Geoffrey’s remark, Sophia sat frozen. “What the hell was that all about?” She could hear Geoffrey in the hall closet pushing items around and dropping hangers on the floor. Slowly, she raised herself to stand then cautiously went into the hall. “What are you doing, Geoffrey?”

“I’m leaving. I’m taking a sabbatical just as you did from the university. I’m going to retreat into the trenches. I never signed up to be attacked by your bloody bastard of a brother. I shall drive over the mountain to my buddy Fred’s cabin in Pecos. He doesn’t know it yet, but by morning he’ll have company.” Geoffrey pulled his black suitcase from the back of the closet. “It is time to reconsider my options and my place in this clan.”

Sybil’s soccer ball fell from a shelf to bounce down the hall. Sophia walked back into the living room, picked up the martini glass and took it to the kitchen sink. Tossing the liquid down the drain, she inventoried her options. There was no reason for her to argue with him. He was drunk. He was angry. He had every right to want out of this mess. She wanted out as well. She would stay and be with their girls for they were the innocents in this mess. Geoffrey certainly needed more time to meditate over his options and she would give him this time.

Taking a bag from the lower cupboard she put his instant coffee, his favorite traveling black mug, some of his favorite crackers and a handful of Donna’s Twinkies into it. Quickly, she hurried into the family room and grabbed his napping pillow and the lap blanket she had crocheted last winter. Geoffrey came down the hall grumbling under his breath as he bumped into Sophia. She held out the bag, “Here are some of your favorite foods, some coffee, and a pillow and blanket. Can I at least have a hug for old time’s sake?”

Geoffrey took the bag of groceries and the blanket bundle from her, “No hug, but thanks for the goodies. I can’t get too close to a Pino right now. My head isn’t finding any forgiveness as of yet.” He dragged his suitcase behind him out into the dark night.

Sophia leaned against the closed door. “Oh, damn, now we come to the part where Granger mentioned ‘divorce’ as an option.”

She closed her eyes and slid down to the floor. “Oh, Papa, what are we going to do now? Papa, why did you attempt to shoot yourself in front of Granger! Oh, why did you have to die?”

8

Rocoso, New Mexico

Saturday, January, 1988

The television’s muffled sound reached Sophia before the concept of morning was absorbed. She rolled over to touch the other side of the bed. Empty. There was no one there, again, no one. The reality of Geoffrey leaving last night was hard to accept for he was not a person who ran from a problem. He usually hit it with his hard head. Rolling over to slowly open her eyes, Sophia saw the sun was shining and had been for some time. “Oh, yes, we must endure another day of this confusion! I wonder if Geoffrey made it to Pecos.”

“Mom, are you awake yet?” Sybil quietly tiptoed into the room.

“Yes, I am awake but not happy. What is it?”

“Mom, there was a phone call. Someone left a message really early this morning. Do you want me to bring you the phone and a piece of chocolate?”

Sophia burst out laughing, “First the chocolate and then the phone please!”

Sybil ran down the hall to quickly return with a large piece of dark chocolate in one hand and the phone in the other. “Here you go! Mom, we both noticed that Dad wasn’t here this morning. Is everything all right?”

Sophia took the chocolate, “First let me eat this and get some joy into my blood. Then let’s hear the message and we shall have a womanly breakfast of pancakes and talk. How does that sound?”

Sybil gave her mother’s hand a squeeze, “All right!” Then she hurried back to the family room and the television.

Sophia sat up, brushing the chocolate crumbs off of her nightgown. The cordless phone was cold, but the message necessary. Sophia punched in the numbers to listen to the message: “Sophia, I am at the cabin. It’s six thirty and stopped only once for a pit stop. Fred is here and we’re going fishing. For some reason I’m not tired. Will call you tonight and speak with the girls. Hope you women have a good day, don’t worry about me.” Click.

She threw the phone at the end of the bed where it bounced and hit the floor. “Damn, no thought as to love or when he would be home or even if he gives a damn about any of us! He just runs away to his buddy’s cabin and has a day of fishing!” Sophia threw back the covers and went into the bathroom.

The Saturday events were planned by all of them. They were off in the freezing cold weather to go to the Puerco Mountains and sled down the most dangerous of slopes. Sybil had put on her thermal pink underwear with two layers of socks. She wore two t-shirts, one turtleneck, one sweater, and her double lined winter jacket with the hood. Pulled down over her shoulder length hair was a crocheted stocking cap of reindeer pulling a sleigh and on her hands were not only one pair of mittens, but two. Her heavy hiking boots had been sprayed with water repellent, which gave off a strange odor.

Donna was more affluent in her clothing for it was all pink. She had her pink cap pulled over her ears with her pink thermal underwear, her new pink socks, her handed down cousin’s pink ski pants and her pink faux fur lined snow boots. Donna also carried with her a small pink purse that held everyone’s lip gloss and some band-aides just in case. Sophia wore her thermal underwear, old jeans, and two pairs of socks, sprayed hiking boots, and two turtlenecks under her heavy polyester sweater of Care Bears and her red wool cap Geoffrey had given her. She wore Geoffrey’s gloves and her crocheted scarf. They were ready for the snow and the cold.

The picnic basket was a group effort as well. It was filled with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a bag of potato chips, and a box of chocolate chip cookies. Sophia had a thermos of hot cocoa for the girls and a thermos of hot cocoa with rum for her. Two sleds were in the back of the family van along with three blankets, one sleeping bag, and a bag of twigs and matches just in case. There was shovel and a bag of fireplace ash neatly put in the front seat on the floor in case they hit an icy patch.

“We are off!” Sophia backed the van out of the driveway while she and Sybil sang The Keeper’s song. Donna was busy inventorying her seat holders for spare candy.

The glorious blue sky appeared to push away the constant wind, allowing them to appreciate the stillness of the forest snow. The top branches of the ponderosa pines reached for the heavens with fingers draped with crystallized snow. Off in the distance, the trill of a warbler gently echoed through the deep canyon. White barked aspen trees leaned under the weight of the frozen water clinging to their naked skins. Bushes of wild oak lay split and flattened by the moisture’s weight. Small critters hid under their arched branches providing shelter and the earth underneath dry and warm. There were only two other vehicles parked at the sledding area both of which were Jeeps.

“Mom, there is no one else here. The snow crunches when we walk on top of it.” Sybil dragged her boot over the small ice balls under her foot. “Let’s make the most of this then, Come on grab a sled!” Sophia handed Sybil the round blue disc. Sleds unloaded and mittens pulled firmly on, the three of them ran through the crunching snow to the sled platform. Donna repeated her sister’s words as she stared out at the great expanse of snow, trees, and canyons. “Hey, we do have this place all to ourselves, isn’t this cool?”

The altitude of the cliff edge where they stood allowed them to observe Mount Taylor and Cabazon Peak hundreds of miles away. Ravens in pairs winged their way to great heights only to ride the air currents with wings spread wide. Sybil’s mouth was covered with her mittened hand as she stated, “I can’t see any houses or roads. Did they disappear?” Sophia hugged Sybil’s shoulders, “No, this is the country of unending land. Where a person can see forever with uninterrupted beauty and appreciate nature prior to the coming of man and his technology. It is amazing, isn’t it?”

Donna’s soft voice asked, “Mom, can we see all the way to China?” Sophia knelt down to point to the west with her gloved finger, “You know I believe we can. It’s right over there beyond Cabazon peak. If you squint your eyes just a little you can see Russia right over the ridge line there to the north.”

Donna giggled, “Mom, when you talk the steam comes out of your mouth and it tickles my face.” Sophia smiled, “Yes, and I can see the mist coming out of your mouth, but I can’t catch it. Can you?”

Sybil chortled, “It’s quiet here. You can hear the snow melting on the tree branches. Listen. Do ghosts come here? Do you think Grandpa is dancing here in the freezing forest?”

Sophia leaned forward with her arms around the girls, “We are alone here in the forest. It is too cold for those who have passed. They have been called to the Great Beyond. They’re in a place of safety and comfort with views even more fantastic.”

She stood and opened her arms wide, “Be cautious of the elves and the grumble bears. They are hungry in the wintertime and would just love to catch a beautiful young maiden. You two stay close to me, all right? If you hear growling or mumbling from the trees, run to me. Grumble bears and elves know mothers are deadly when protecting their young.”

Sybil wanted to slide down first with her mother. Donna clapped her hands as she watched. Sophia loved the thrill of the drop, but Sybil was holding onto her for dear life. Finally at the bottom, Sophia asked her, “Sybil, what’s wrong?”

“Mom, I’m terrified that I’ll die. I really don’t like sliding down a sheet of solid ice with no control of my own. It’s not fun for me.” Sybil hugged her mother’s right leg. “I see myself a bloody mess at the bottom of this drop. Can I get out of sledding and just stay here and watch?”

“Yes, you can do the greeting, but don’t wander off remember the elves and the grumble bears. Why didn’t you tell me this before we left? We could have done something else today?”

“No, Mom, I like being way out here. It’s like we’re the last living people on earth. It would be more fun if Dad was here, but well, he isn’t.” Sybil pointed to the tops of the trees, “Look, we’re totally surrounded in white with green trees watching over us. Who wouldn’t want to be out here? It’s like we’re on our own planet.”

Sophia smiled at Sybil, “Donna and I will sled down to you. If you start getting too cold let me know and you can sit in the van with the heater. You know if you brought a book you could read it while we’re hiking back up to the drop point. How does that sound?” Sybil pulled her dragon book out of her parka. “I did bring my book!”

After four hours of sledding and getting wet, the three of them decided to drive up the mountain to eat their picnic lunch. The Puerco ski basin was overwhelmed with people and cars. After a quick vote, the decision was to head home. They could have the picnic on the family room floor.

Sophia studied the girls in the rearview mirror as she drove down the mountain. At some point she would have to explain the problems that involved all of them. Donna was busy smearing lip gloss all over her lower face while Sybil was again reading her book with the dragon on the cover. The book appeared to be endless.

Unloading, laughing with fresh fun memories the girls helped their mother place the food on the family room floor. The girls felt better after using the bathroom, changing clothes, and being back in the warmth of home. Sybil was the first to bring up the subject, “Mom, why isn’t Dad here? Where did he go?”

Donna stared at Sophia, with her mouth full of sandwich, she said, “Yeah, where’s Dad?”

Sighing, Sophia sat down on the floor between the two girls. She stuck a potato chip in her mouth, chewed, swallowed and tried to hold back tears, “We have a serious problem, girls. There appears to be conflict between Grandmother Margaret, Granger, and your Dad and me.”

Sybil lifted her sandwich, “I knew it. I just knew it! Mom, it’s about the reading of the will and Grandpa, isn’t it?”

“How did you know, Sybil?”

Before Sybil could answer Donna spoke up, “She read the papers in the living room. She found them this morning and she read them to me. I don’t have any idea what they mean, but I didn’t like them.”

“Oh, Sybil, what a nosey little girl you are!” Sophia hugged Sybil, “The problem is your father and I bought this property for our family, just our family. We needed some help with the money so we asked your grandpa to help us to get started.” Sophia had to stop and think how she could say this simply. “When your Grandfather died, your Grandmother Margaret wanted this property. She went to a lawyer and had him put this property in her name and then she gave it to Granger, legally that is.”

Donna put her drink down quickly, “You mean Uncle Granger the salamander?”

Sophia gasped, “What? What do you mean salamander?”

“That’s what Dad calls him. He says Uncle Granger is ‘the slimy salamander man of the Pino family who will do us all in’ that’s what he says, right Sybil?”

“Right,” Sybil put her hand up to stop Donna from talking, “Mom, but we live here not them. Do they want to live here, too, with us?”

“No, they just want the ownership of this property to belong to them, but they don’t want to have to pay the taxes or deal with the up-keep or the home owner’s insurance. They just want to hold the property in their name.”

The three of them ate in silence while they thought about the predicament. Finally, Sybil spoke up, “What can we do to get the ownership away from them?”

Sophia studied her daughters’ fragile faces. “If I divorce your father then Granger will give the property to your father.”

Donna jumped dropping all of her food on the floor, “NO DIVORCE! Carol’s father and mother got divorced and all she does is cry all the time. She hates her step parents and she wants to come and live with us! NO, Mom, NO!” Donna threw her body into her mother’s lap. Sophia let her tears fall with Donna’s.

Sybil sat there staring at the both of them, “Divorce is not the way out of this, Mom. You know this and I know this. So does Dad. Dad loves you forever and forever and forever and he will never leave us. He just won’t so we have to think of something else.”

Donna snorted, “Let’s kill Uncle Granger. They killed a salamander in Mr. Griego’s class and cut it up for a biology lesson. We could invite Uncle Granger to my school and have him visit Mr. Griego’s class!”

Sophia held Donna in a tight hug, “You know dissection might work, but he is much bigger than a real salamander. Our problem is not Granger, but the law. We need to find a way to make the law work for us not for them.”

Donna wiped her nose on her sweater sleeve, “Do we know any law people who could help us?”

“Donna, you have an excellent idea. Yesterday at the reading of the will two of your half-uncles were there and one of them is a lawyer—a contract lawyer—as a matter of fact. He offered to help us. Perhaps I just should give him a call?”

She started to get up and then stopped. “He certainly wouldn’t be home now although one never knows. He might live closer than his brother who said he was from Georgia.” Sophia handed Sybil her napkin and sandwich. She hurried to her purse in the front room. She found the printed card. Stuart Pino actually lived in Las Cruces, New Mexico. His home address was on Las Piedras and his office was downtown off of Grand Street. “Huh,” Sophia picked up the cordless phone and dialed his home phone number.

A woman’s voice answered, “Pino residence this is Phyllis. How can I help you?”

Sophia was impressed, “Hello, how do you do? Is there someone there by the name of Stuart Pino?”

A groan followed, “Sorry, Miss, but we don’t take business calls at home. You will have to call him during the week.”

Sophia quickly interrupted, “No, no, this is his half-sister, please is he there? I just met him yesterday at a reading of our father’s will and he asked me to call him if we needed help. Please, don’t hang up on me.”

The woman at the other end of the phone paused, “Don’t tell me you are the writer? Are you Sophia, the writer who did the film on languages of Europe during the Middle Ages?”

“Yes, yes, but more importantly I am just a person who is in need of assistance. Is Stuart there, please?”

Sybil and Donna were now standing next to their mother in the kitchen. Sybil put a blank notepad on the counter in front of her mother and Donna handed her mother a red marker. Sophia studied their hopeful faces and then whispered, “His wife has gone to get him for us.”

“Hello, Stuart? This is Sophia calling you for some advice. Oh, dear let me start over again. I am calling to let you know what a pleasure it was to finally meet you and to have a chance to speak with you, although the event was most unfortunate.” Sophia knew she was rambling and forced the words to stop.

“Hi, yes,” Stuart’s voice was very similar to her father’s voice, which for a moment surprised her. “If you need contract help please ask. I really don’t know very much about wills and probate. My knowledge is contracts and long term business agreements either federal of state level. But if I can give you advice, please ask away.”

Sophia took the lid off of the red marker writing down her questions as she asked them, “Well, both my husband and I were shocked to learn the property we held in a contract with Papa was given to Granger through arrangements with Margaret. We don’t know how to get our title back or what to do to get our investments returned. Would you know how we could achieve these goals?”

Stuart almost interrupted her in mid-sentence, “Sophia, these are aspects of law dealing with possession and ownership. I don’t really have any idea what you can do. I could ask some of my friends, but all of this was evidently done with full legal advice. In my opinion, and this is not legal by any means, I would ask Granger if you could sell your half to him and move. If he will not accept this offer then you’re stuck to live there as long as he lives or your mother lives. The legal contract the two of them set up is legally binding. Sorry, but I don’t know what else to say.” He sounded sincerely unhappy.

“Stuart?”

“Yes, still here?”

“Granger did say if Geoffrey and I did get divorced that he would give the property to Geoffrey, but then wouldn’t I be without a home? We have two little girls and they need a home?”

“Oh, gosh, Granger didn’t put this in action. This is a ‘Spider’s Web’ trap done usually by a parent who wants to maintain control over the family. Your mother Margaret has Granger tied to her with assets and property management. The property contract gives her control over you no matter where you go. She will offer to help you buy a property with her as co-partner and again in time this will revert to Granger. At least Geoffrey will have his money back and his property, but if you try to remarry I’m sure there is a legal clause forbidding this action.”

Stuart cleared his throat, “This is all very complicated and I would recommend both of you to hire an experienced real estate contract lawyer to help with this. I have no legal knowledge in this field, although I wish I did.”

Sophia took the marker to draw an ‘X’ through all of her questions. Sybil and Donna stared at her. Sophia said, “Stuart, thank you so much for listening and your advice. We’ll go over our options again and come to a decision. This was rude of me to call and ask you for help when this isn’t your field. Please have a lovely weekend. We wish you and your family our best. Perhaps sometime we could all get together to share stories?”

Stuart agreed and they both hung up the phone. Sybil took the notepad, “What, what happened? Didn’t he help you? What did he say?”

Sophia pulled out a kitchen chair and abruptly sat down, “No, he couldn’t help us. He isn’t that kind of lawyer, but he did say Uncle Granger and Grandma Margaret acted legally. We are stuck.”

The phone’s ringing broke the silence. Sybil stared at her mother. Sophia shrugged to look at the clock on the wall. It was three-thirty and too early for Geoffrey to call home. Sophia pointed to the phone and Sybil picked it up, “Hello?” Sybil made a horrible face, “Yes, Grandma Margaret, she’s right here.”

Sybil practically threw the phone at her mother. The girls ran back into the family room and turned on the television. Sophia quickly answered, “Hello, Mother, how are things going today?”

“Oh, Sophia, there is so much to do and it would be most appreciated if you would be kind enough to come over and help me. Bring the girls with you if they are available? We could go to Applebee’s for dinner, my treat?”

Sophia stared at the messy floor caused by their muddy boots, “Well, Mom, we just got home from sledding. All of us are exhausted. What is it you need help with right now?”

She heard Margaret gasp, “Right now? What do you mean right now?”

“Well, you said there was so much to do and for some reason I took it to mean right now. All right, so what’s going on over there, please explain so I won’t jump to conclusions?”

“Right, well, your father’s hospital bed is now out of the house as you know. I wanted to move my bed back into the middle of the room and get some help with his clothes and his medical supplies. I mean what am I to do with all of his stuff?”

“Mom, you could put it in piles. On Monday call the Salvation Army or Goodwill and have them come and take all the clothes away. His medical paraphernalia is finished. Just throw pills and stuff away because no one else can use it. The oxygen tanks and the heart monitor stuff should have a phone number of the people who brought it and they can come and pick it up. You’re paying rent on the equipment. If they pick it up then you don’t have to pay rent on it anymore.”

“Sophia?”

“Yes, Mom?”

“Sophia, you sound cold. Are you angry at me or Granger for what we did to your property? Are you still fretting over what happened at the lawyer’s office?”

“Mom, I am tired. The girls and I had a lovely morning sledding, hiking and having good family fun. Evidently what you and Granger did was something you felt you needed to do although it wouldn’t have hurt to talk to us about it first.”

“Sophia, where is Geoffrey? Why didn’t he go sledding with you and the girls?”

“Mom, Geoffrey is at his friend’s cabin in Pecos. They are ice fishing or doing guys’ stuff.”

“Oh, did Geoffrey leave you already?”

Sophia shook her head, “Mom, what are you suggesting? Are you a fortune teller now?”

“Sophia, you have always been rude to me ever since you were fourteen years old and I still don’t appreciate it. I just thought you might like to go through your father’s things and take what you want, but evidently you aren’t interested.” Margaret hung up the phone.

The empty martini glass by the kitchen sink seemed to beckon Sophia for a refill. Sophia studied her hands as she rubbed her fingers together. She reached for the phone. It would be good to go back to the house. The girls needed to appreciate their grandfather’s death. If Sophia had time alone with her mother, perhaps she could change Margaret’s mind regarding the property.

Quickly dialing before she changed her mind, Sophia spoke to her mother, “Mom, the girls and I will be over there around five. We can help you with Geordie. By the way did you call the vet?”

“Yes, I did get the vet out here. He charges a fortune. Did you know it costs three hundred dollars to come to the farm? After he arrives the bill goes up considerably.” Margaret paused to sip on something, “He took some x-rays of Geordie and found he has cancerous pulps in his intestine. Sophia, he wanted to put Geordie down! He said Geordie was in terrible pain and the kindest act would be to put him down! Can you imagine?”

“Mom, if the doctor feels he is in pain it would be the humane thing to do.”

“No, Sophia, I can’t live here without a horse! I have to have a horse here- this is a farm. What kind of farm would I have if I didn’t have a horse? If you remember, we used to have four horses and now I am down to one. This horse is staying here, staying alive, and staying around to make my farm a real farm!”

“Mom, the horse is in pain. If the horse is in terrible pain you are beholden to do the right and proper thing. Poor Geordie shouldn’t live his life with a disease eating up his insides.”

“Well, too bad, that’s all I have to say. My reputation supersedes the horse’s right to die. The doc wasn’t completely convincing for he left me with a hefty prescription for Geordie, which will cost a pretty penny believe you me!” Margaret was now fuming into the phone. “I am supporting his habit, the vet’s not the horse’s, let me tell you!”

Sophia sighed, “All right, Mom, how about we come over and see you. I will help with Papa’s things and then we can go to dinner at Applebee’s, your treat. Let’s try to have a good time.”

“Well, if you put it like that, fine. See you around five.”

Sophia walked into her bedroom. Everything felt empty with Geoffrey gone. She studied herself in the full length mirror by the closet. Her jeans were covered with mud, her hair stuck straight up in the air, but her cheeks were rosy red. She called to the girls, “Sybil, Donna, I am going to take a hot bath! Then we are going to Grandma Margaret’s to feed the horse.”

Not waiting for a reply, Sophia closed the bathroom door to enjoy her time to relax before dealing with her mother.

9

Rocoso, New Mexico

Saturday, January, 1988

The family van reversed from the Rocoso’ home with a groan. The early evening shadows outlined the black mesas against the blue sky went on to infinity. One single raven flew carelessly in the high wind. Sybil was reading her dragon book in the backseat. Donna was relating a rhyme she had read at school about a boy named Sam who had a dog that ran and ran. Sophia turned on the windshield wipers to clear the windshield of dirt smudges. The smudge smeared across the whole of the windshield. Sophia sighed for now not only did they not have a home, but the old vehicle was aging faster than they could afford right now.

At the corner gas station, the van got a full tank of gas. Sophia washed the windshield with the gas stations squidgy and wiped off the crud with the blue paper towels. The girls received a candy bar with a bottle of juice. Slamming the van’s door, Sophia watched the girls share their candy bars. “Remember no mention of this candy to your Grandmother Margaret, all right?”

“Yes, Mom,” Sybil sighed, “We know. If she hears we ate a candy bar she won’t take us out to dinner. We’ve been here before.”

Sophia smiled. Her girls were street smart when it came to their grandmother. No worries about these two, they would go far. The road through Rincon this afternoon was busy with traffic. Many families were going to the Range Café for dinner. A lot of vehicles had inner tubes tied to the top. They had appreciated the mountain snow. The horses in the fields were standing with their butts facing into the setting sun. Grazing Herefords with their dirty faces were huddled against the south fence on the Santa Ana reservation where remnants of alfalfa lay scattered on the ground. Their water tank had dirt dancing across the top of it. The cottonwood trees spread their naked fingers up to the evening sky as the western horizon turned a soft orange.

Following the Camino Real of the early Spaniards southward, Sophia turned onto Fourth Street. The girls became quiet. They were nearing their grandparent’s farm. There was a feeling of oppression that came over Sophia whenever she turned onto Calavera Road. The life she knew and believed in was now going to shift into her mother’s dimension of reality. Her mother’s mantra was a child’s primary duty was to their parents. This belief was above all else. Margaret’s hold on this concept was pursued primarily with huge doses of guilt and spoonfuls of manipulation.

Sybil put down her book to help Donna count horses and Mustang cars as they turned onto Calle Aspen. The van bumped down the corrugated road. Cottontail rabbits hurried across in front of the van while the field to their left was densely populated with sand hill cranes pecking through the dead alfalfa stalks.

Sophia turned into the mother’s driveway. Granger’s Mercedes sat front center of the big double gate. She sighed. Another confrontation was certain to happen and Geoffrey was far, far away. She parked under the drooping Tamarisk tree. The girls begrudgingly unhooked their seat belts to stare at the house. Overnight it had become a grimy place of despair. Stucco chips stuck out by the fire wall on the roof. Discolored warped window frames sat framed in the stucco cracked walls. Morbid lilac bushes stuck skeleton-like fingers around the house as if pushing away anything life-like. The pasture fences were askew in the shifting sandy terrain. White paint curled and fell from the long boards between fence posts as if they were grieving tearfully. Most of the wood revealed their long boards to be gray and cracked in their uncared for and unattended demise.

Sybil kicked the back of the driver’s seat, “Mom, Granger is here. He hates us. Why is he here? I thought it was going to be just us and we could feed Geordie. What is he doing here?”

Donna glared at her mother in the rear view mirror, “Mom, let’s go home! I don’t want to see him! Mama, please, can’t we eat at Wendy’s or something? Let’s get out of here! Uncle Granger the salamander will spit his tongue out at us. Let’s go home!”

Sophia picked up her leather purse, put the strap over her head, turned to the girls and said, “Onward! We’re a team and as a team we can confront them! Come on, team. Let’s go see what else they plan to throw at us. Maybe we can convince them to leave us and our home alone. We outnumber them three to two. If nothing else we can feed the horse and leave.”

Just as Sophia opened the driver’s door to get out, the entryway wrought iron gate opened. Halting at the gateway for a few minutes, Granger appeared absorbed in his meeting with Sophia and the girls. He held open the gate for them as if it were his diplomatic duty. Donna jumped out of her car seat to scoot over to Sybil’s side. They both cautiously stood behind their mother as they approached Granger.

Granger’s eyes had an element of distrust. In a raptor-like manner, he spoke softly, “Girls, why don’t you go and feed Geordie before it gets dark. Be careful with the stall gate for I do believe it sticks some.” Sophia pushed them around Granger, giving them the freedom to race to the barn.

Granger cinched his arm around Sophia as she went through the gate. “Well, it is good to see you, my little sister. After yesterday, I wasn’t sure if you would still be speaking to me. Mom said you were rude to her on the phone this afternoon.” Granger’s voice was purring in her ear, “Sophia, there is no need to be rude to your mother. She is very upset after losing her husband and dealing with all of this is difficult for her.”

“Granger, she didn’t lose her husband. He died. She knows exactly where he is and why he is there.” Sophia grabbed his hand from her shoulder and turned, pushing him away from her, “Granger, please stop touching me. I don’t like it and I don’t touch you. Please give me some space.”

He glared at Sophia with a hardened attitude and in a polished voice said, “Ouch, someone is touchy today, huh? I’m giving you brotherly love.”

Teeth bared, Sophia answered, “Well, don’t.”

They entered the house from the back porch. The dining room table was covered in Margaret’s favorite red-checkered tablecloth. Italian teacups and saucers hand painted with spring flowers were elaborately placed on the table along with spoons and linen napkins. A plate of tea biscuits was placed as the centerpiece. Margaret was standing by the kitchen stove waiting for the large copper tea kettle to boil. There was no point explaining to her tea was to be made with hot water that had not yet boiled. Margaret was of the old school, water was not distilled until it was well boiled.

“Sophia, how good of you to come! I saw the girls running to the barn. Geordie will be pleased to have them feed him.” Margaret reached out to hug Sophia.

Sophia frowned, “Oh, you mean no one else feeds Geordie but the girls?”

Margaret smacked her shoulder with the dish cloth, “There you go, always being the cynic. We need to all be friends in this time of tragedy, Sophia. Please could we have a truce? Take your coat off, dear. It is nice and warm in here unless you are planning on leaving already?”

Sophia shook her head, “Mom, I think first I’ll go and see how the girls are doing with the horse. Don’t you think you should listen to the vet and do what is humane?”

“Good old Sophia,” Granger grabbed his heavy wool coat, “always looking on the bright side of life, aren’t you? I’ll go, too, and find out why everyone is having a fit about the old horse.”

The two of them walked to the barn, Sophia hurried ahead of Granger. The girls were giggling, sitting on top of the highest alfalfa bale in the barn. When they saw their mother, they started to point at something up on the rafters, but then they saw Granger and flattened their bodies against the bale.

Granger went to Geordie’s stall gate. Peering over he saw the feed bin was full and the grain bucket was being licked clean by the horse. “All right, Sophia, show me what you were telling Mom about, hurry, it’s cold out here!”

Sophia opened the stall gate not worrying about stepping in the manure for she had on her old boots, but Granger danced around the manure piles in his fancy leather shoes. Pushing Geordie’s head towards the north side of the stall, she grabbed his tail and pulled it toward her. “There, see?” She pushed Geordie’s rump for Granger’s dissecting eyes.

“Well, yes, I see the blood. He could have cut himself trying to rub his butt on the fence.” Granger cautiously stepped over a large pile of horse apples. “Whew, it seriously stinks in here.”

Indelicately, Sophia grabbed Granger’s hand to have him touch Geordie’s shoulder mass, “He has bloody stools and his chest has a huge knobby lump. Feel right here?”

His voice became vitriolic in tone, “Many old horses have lymphomas that are benign. He’s an old horse, Sophia.” Granger blew the horse hair off of his gloved hand, “He’s an old horse and does have lumps and bumps and scratches. Don’t think it’s anything to worry about, besides the vet gave Mom some medicine for him.” Granger studied the dirt floor of the stall and the dust dancing around them, “This place is just filthy. Why doesn’t Mom clean it up?”

Carefully winding his way back around the horse droppings, Granger found his way to the cement floor of the barn. Using his finger tips he closed the stall door behind Sophia. “Wonder where the girls are? Do you think they are walking home in the dark?” Granger snickered at her.

“Granger, why don’t you go ahead inside? I’ll look for the girls? You know Mom might be worried and you calm her better than anyone.” Granger walked to the barn door. Wiping his hands on his pants, he disappeared into the dark.

“Girls,” She called to the cavernous barn, “are you here?” Sybil sat up to jump to the floor below. “Did Granger see us?”

“I’m not sure, but I am sure that Grandmother Margaret has tea and cookies ready for us at the big table.” Sophia caught Donna as she leapt from the bale of alfalfa. “Mom, I ‘m not sitting at that table. People get yelled at and put down at that table. Can we go into the guest room and play with the toys and junk in there?”

“Mom, Donna’s right. If we sit at the table with you guys Grandma Margaret will be mean to us about eating or not eating, drinking tea or not drinking tea. We can’t ever do anything right at her table. She will be nasty to you because Dad isn’t here!” Sybil lifted her hand over her head to walk like a posh prima donna. “We didn’t bring our white linen gloves did we, sister?”

Donna copied her sister only with her hand on her swaying hip, she mocked, “No, we don’t have our party dresses. We’re not dressed for royalty.”

Sophia chased them around the barn, “Donna and Sybil, once we get inside why don’t you grab some cookies and race into the back room and play with the toys?” Sophia lead the way out of the barn only to reach back and turn off the light.

Margaret sat at one side of the table with Sophia opposite her. She nodded to her son, “Now it is time for Granger to sit at the head of the table since he is the male head of the family. Granger, please tell Sophia what you told me. Sophia, I need you to be quiet and listen. There is no need to pass judgment on anyone, just listen.”

Granger lifted his little finger to take a sip of his tea, “Sophia, I have decided to divorce Emily. She’s in California and will be back tomorrow evening. I have filed for divorce. We have irreconcilable differences. Both of us have agreed to a friendly divorce. She will receive her car and half of my savings.” Shaking his head in disgust, he added, “Even though she has never worked a day in her life. She is amenable to this.” He gulped the rest of his tea.

Sophia stared at Granger. Divorce appeared to be the word of the week in this family. “She works for you at your clinic, but what brought on this divorce, oh, brother of mine?”

Granger spit tea on the tablecloth, “Sophia, you have no need to be smug! Divorce is painful! The fact is Emily and I don’t have anything in common anymore. There is no point continuing on in our relationship when all we do is argue and disagree.”

Lifting her napkin from her lap, Sophia wiped her lips, “Isn’t your daughter Shirley a commonality between the two of you?”

Margaret inhaled loudly through her nose, “Granger, it’s the time for truth. Stop pussyfooting around. Be a man and tell the truth. She will find out—time has a way of revealing all. What you’re doing is trying to dodge the bullet and it’s already left the gun. Tell the truth and save everyone grief.”

Turning to Sophia, she said sternly, “Please, Sophia, no judgment. Let your brother say his piece and try to be polite. Goodness knows, I have tried to raise you to be polite and proper, but somehow you’re like your father who was a beast of a person. Please attempt to be polite!”

Sophia turned to stare at her brother. Granger delicately poured himself more tea, “Well, several months ago, while Emily was busy with music classes and our daughter was in day care, I was left alone most of the time. Emily’s best friend from California came out to visit. Emily and Katina hadn’t seen each other for years. Katina stayed at the house while Emily was in class and little Shirley was in school.”

Granger sipped his tea with his little finger fully erect. “Katina is a very nice person. We hit it off really well and while Emily was busy and Shirley was gone, we seriously became close.”

Margaret leaned back in her captain’s chair, “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Granger, just tell her!”

Margaret grabbed his tea cup and set it in the saucer in front of Granger. “Tell her!”

Granger sighed, “Katina is five months pregnant with my child. I have to divorce Emily and marry Katina. There is no other honorable way to survive this. Also, I love Katina. Emily and I haven’t had much to do with one another for the last six years. Well, since Shirley was born. Emily is very much into her body what with dance, diet, and even pushing me away.”

Margaret interrupted him, “That’s enough! You don’t have to go into every single detail. Sophia, this was going on while your father was dying. Granger needs money for this divorce and it was opportune for your father to pass away when he did.”

Picking up a sterling silver spoon, Margaret stirred her tea, “Now, Emily and Shirley will be cared for while Granger can start his new family with Katina.” Margaret patted Granger’s hand.”Katina is a lovely woman filled with life and she understands your brother. This is the most important aspect of life, don’t you agree, Sophia?”

Sophia sat there studying her mother and then her brother.”You do know, Mother, as a professor of ethnology I find the two of you would make quite a study?”

Margaret smiled as she pressed her hand into Granger’s. “Thank you, Sophia. I do believe we try to elevate the human condition, right Granger? I’m so glad you can appreciate your brother’s situation. We were afraid you would belittle him somehow.”

He nodded with a worried frown. “Where are you going with this, Sophia? You never compliment us. You work hard at finding ways to condemn us or to persuade others that we are your enemy. Sophia, no matter how hard you try to prove we are against you. We only look out for your best interest. Don’t we, Mother?” Margaret nodded in agreement.

Granger leaned forward, “I know you are going to find a way to make it appear we are against you. Lies are all you have to throw at us, you can’t prove a thing. Why can’t you appreciate how much time and energy Mom and I put into you getting your life straight? You don’t see the reality of your choices and the lack of opportunity you have by not being honest with yourself. “

“Well, thank you, my dear brother.” Sophia pointed at him, “Do either one of you find what Granger has done to be redundant?”

Margaret grinned at her son, “You’re right. She’s going to say something negative about us.”

“No, not negative, Mom, just something perceptive that’s all.” Sophia pushed the teacup to the center of the table, “Granger is sitting at the head of the table telling us of his impregnation of Katina while married to Emily. Mom, you are the widow of a man who has impregnated many while he was married to you. Do happen to find a similar thread here?”

Margaret gasped, “You’re a heartless cow! This isn’t anything like what your father did to me! Your father was indiscreet and undeserving of my affection and my money. He was an animal jumping in and out of bed with his female patients. He had the gall to send their husbands’ his medical bill. You cannot consider Granger to be anything at all like your father!”

Sophia heard the girls laughing and playing in the back bedroom and wished she could be with them. She calmly continued, “You may be right, Mom. Your relationship with Papa was unique and we don’t know what went on between the two of you—behind closed doors.”