The High Tide Club
Josephine fiddled with the trim on the afghan draped loosely around her shoulders. “I’m afraid the Shaddix boys took after their daddy. They were hard workers, and capable enough, but I don’t think any of them ever went to school beyond sixth grade.”
“But Varina was different?”
“Oh yes. She was the prettiest little thing, and bright as a new penny. After Sally died, Harley’s sister, Margie, came to work here, and she’d bring Varina up here to Shellhaven with her most days. She was reading before first grade and had such a thirst for learning. She knew every inch of this island and loved to show us all her secret places.”
The old lady’s face shone as she spoke of Varina’s accomplishments. “At first, Papa didn’t think it was right—her spending so much time here. He was a free thinker for that day and time, but even he worried that people would wonder about a little colored girl getting big ideas.”
Brooke winced at the term colored girl. She’d lived in the South her whole life but had never gotten used to the lingering vestiges of racism.
“But Varina became a friend?” Brooke asked.
“We all doted on her. We gave her clothes and shoes, treated her to gifts—candy, new books, things like that. Harley had diabetes, and the doctor had to amputate his right foot, and then he really couldn’t work anymore, so he took up preaching, and the boys all quit school to help out. The Shaddixes never had enough to go around. Varina was like our little sister.”
“If your little sister happened to be a colored girl,” Brooke said.
The old lady’s eyes flared. “You’re very rude, you know that? I never called Varina a colored girl. That was Papa. And he didn’t mean it in a derogatory way. He never, ever used the N-word, which most people did back then. It was a different time.”
“You said Varina is still alive?” Brooke asked, interrupting. “And you’ve kept in touch all these years?”
“Of course. After the war, Varina worked in Jacksonville. For the railroad. But she missed Talisa and her family. Her brothers were all married, with a dozen children between them, and eventually she moved back here.”
“Here? To Shellhaven?”
“Part of the time. She worked here for me after Preiss’s death. It was lonely, you know? I never imagined he would die first. He was six years younger than I was. I still can’t get over it. I’ll never get over his death.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Brooke said. She’d noticed that Josephine’s breathing was growing labored, her narrow shoulders hunched, and her voice raspy.
She leaned forward and touched the old lady’s hand gently. “Are you feeling all right? Is there anything I can get you? Some water?”
Josephine’s cough rattled, and she abruptly yanked her hand back, as though she’d been burned. “I’ve taken my pills, and there’s nothing more to be done.”
“I can leave and come back later, maybe when you’re feeling better?” Brooke offered.
“I’m not going to feel better,” Josephine snapped. “My time is short, so I’d really prefer it if we could get down to business.”
“All right. Tell me more about Varina. Does she still live on the island?”
“No. One of her great-nieces—Felicia, I believe is the girl’s name—took it upon herself to move Varina to Jacksonville, supposedly to take care of her. Felicia is Homer’s granddaughter, or maybe great-granddaughter. He died back in February. Varina has been living with Felicia three or four years now. They tell me the girl is some kind of professor at a college down there, but I don’t know where or what she teaches.”
“And you’ve had no contact with Varina since then?”
“I didn’t say that,” Josephine retorted. “Varina came back here for Homer’s funeral, and that girl brought her here to see me then.”
“Why is a great-niece caring for her?” Brooke asked. “What about her own children?”
“Varina never married,” Josephine said. “Bad luck and bad decisions have haunted that family. There were three brothers, and all of them had their problems. Drinking, gambling, bad women, and of course, the damn diabetes. It killed Omar and Otis before they turned fifty. Varina helped raise her brothers’ children and then their grandchildren. Oh yes, they all love their auntie Vee, as they call her.”
“And you’re on good terms with her?”
Josephine coughed violently, startling the sleeping dogs, who jumped down from her lap.
Brooke waited.
“That pushy Felicia has put all kinds of wild ideas in Varina’s head,” Josephine said, dabbing at her lips with a sodden handkerchief. “When she came to see me, back in February, I assumed it was strictly a social call. But I was sadly mistaken. Shocked, really.”
“What did Varina want?”
“Varina never would have thought of it on her own,” Josephine said. “That girl—Felicia—she’s just like all the rest of this generation. Think they’re owed something. Always looking for a handout.”
Brooke waited.
“Can you imagine? She wanted me to deed over Oyster Bluff to the families living there. Just give it to them! Land I bought and paid for. And paid a fair price, I might add, when I could just have easily waited and bought it for next to nothing on the courthouse steps for back taxes.”
Josephine’s indignation sparked another alarming spasm of coughing. Brooke glanced toward the door. Should she call Louette?
A minute or two later, after the coughing subsided, Josephine’s face remained pink with remembered outrage.
“What was your answer?” Brooke asked, her face deadpan.
“I refused! And I let Varina know I was disappointed that she would ask such a thing of me, considering all I’ve done for that family over the years.”
“I thought the land at Oyster Bluff originally belonged to those Geechee families after the Civil War. Wasn’t the land given to the freedmen by the government?”
“It was, but as I said, the Shaddixes and the others chose to sell their land. In fact, they came right to this house and begged me to buy, because they needed the money. Nobody made them sell it, and I paid a very fair price.”
I’ll just bet, Brooke thought. “How much land are we talking about?”
“A little over twenty acres. When Papa was alive, it was a nice little community, with a schoolhouse, a commissary, and a church, but then, over the years, all the young folks moved off, and the families that stayed are either too shiftless or sorry to keep up with their property.”
“Don’t Shug and Louette live at Oyster Bluff?” Brooke asked. “Do they rent from you?”
“I wasn’t referring to them,” Josephine said. “What I mean is the others.”
“How did Varina take it, when you refused to deed the property to the residents of Oyster Bluff? Did you quarrel?”
“What could she say? She was embarrassed. I tell you, that pushy niece put her up to it. Varina never would have been bold enough to ask such a thing, in the light of our friendship over the years, which is what I told Felicia, right to her face, when she tried to pick a fight with me that day.”
“Did you fight?”
Josephine drew herself up as best she could in the sagging recliner. “We had words. She called me some very unpleasant names and accused me of taking advantage of Varina and their family. Can you imagine? Finally, I’d had enough. I told her to leave. And I haven’t seen or heard from Varina since that day. It makes me very sad, but what could I do?”