Elle was especially tight lipped about Ian’s mom, Meg. She said she was found in her room, passed out, with a syringe dangling in her arm. That’s all she’d divulge.
First I’d check the apartments on Parkview, Spanish Cove. As I trolled through the parking lot, I saw a man coming out of one of the lower units. I pulled into a parking spot. He was probably fifty or sixty. Dressed in cut off Jean’s, Auburn T shirt, black socks and white tennis shoes.. He seemed apprehensive about me. He started to turn the other way, so I said, “Hey buddy, it’s cool, I just want to ask a question. ” He said, “Are you a cop?”
“No, just looking for a friend who might live here.” I smiled and said.
He walked over and when close his color wheel shone before me Bright with patchy sections of murky grey. My astonishment at this new gift from God isn’t getting old. Everyone has a color wheel more unique than their fingerprint. Constantly changing for good or bad. People are oblivious to, yet in control of the wheel. Our choices continually commanding change
I said, “Do you know Meg Montgomery?” He said; ” Mister, I drink a purty good bit. I was drunk that night Ian walked off to the square. That boy was always asking folks for sump’n to eat. His mother was an angel sent down to save us all. Well, til that biker man came to see her. He was driving a motorcycle. One a them them there Harlees, I bleeve. Imma tell ya; she didn’t come out or round nobody after that. Poor boy left to fend for hisself.”
“Thanks, man. I’m Pehr. I didn’t get your name.” He said, ” I’m J.B.” “J.B., which apartment was Meg’s ” I asked. “Her and Ian lived atop a mine. C-12.. An I’m a hopin’ they gone be fine. They tell me she looked dead that night. But I was so drunk I done passed out when they took her. Last thang I remember seein’ that night was the boy walking off with his head sa low he couldn’t a seen where he was a goin’.” he replied.
“Do you remember anything about the motorcycle guy?” I asked, as J.B. had started to walk away. “Well he wore that brain bucket into her place. He was all tattooed up, long beard. I said howdy do and he didn’t say nuttin. Well, nice ta meet ya. I gotta go round up a bottle. I’m commencing, to tremble.” J.B. said and walked toward the Quick Pack, down the road.
She must be at Providence. So I’ll head toward Mobile. The Pink Lady at the information desk was hesitant to give out her room number. A little small talk and smiling relaxed her. She gave it to me with this warning, ” There’s an officer at the door. It’s really up to him if you get in to see her.” I thanked her and was off to room 323. Praying all the way.