Free Sherri Travis Story 01 - Bitty and the Naked Ladies by Phyllis Smallman Page B

sub-division built in the late forties with narrow lots and two-bedroom houses.
    The nurse’s house looked abandoned. A crumbling concrete path led to a tilting front stoop and a faded blue door. I knocked loudly, praying no one would answer, waited awhile and then banged even harder. No one came to tell me to get stuffed so I cupped my hands and tried to peek through the diamond shaped window of the door. My reward was the sight of a blank wall in mustard yellow.
    A screen door banged to my left. I jumped back from the door. My heart was pounding as if I’d been caught doing what I was only considering.
    A man in his sixties, naked but for wrinkled cotton shorts slung low beneath his belly, stood on the porch with his hands on his hips. The white hair covering his chest was as thick as a Brillo pad while his head was smooth and shiny. “She ain’t home.”
    “Oh.”
    “You the niece?”
    “Yup.” I smiled widely, trying to look honest.
    “You’re early.”
    I nodded.
    He waved a hand. “Come on over here. I got it.”
    I almost blurted out, “got what?” but fortunately he’d already gone back inside, letting the door slam behind him, before my mouth gave me away.
    The burnt grass crunched under my feet. I looked around uneasily and then climbed the steps to the pale green house.
    The door opened and the man came out carrying a cardboard box which said it contained baked beans.
    “How’s your Dad?” he asked, still holding the box.
    “Good.”
    His eyes widened in surprise.
    “He’s doing better,” I amended.
    His brow smoothed out. “That’s good. Hell of a thing to happen.”
    I nodded in agreement.
    “So you’re taking over the flea market stall?”
    “Yup.” I held my hands out for the box.
    “I don’t know where your aunt finds all this stuff.” He transferred the box to my arms. “Junk mostly. Surprising what people will buy, isn’t it?”
    “It sure is.” I started down the steps with my prize. “Thank you,” I called over my shoulder and walked quickly to my car without looking back.
    I unpacked the box carefully, spreading the contents over my kitchen table. There was a small jade green vase, a rosewood colored box and various knick knacks, including a flamingo salt and pepper shaker. At the bottom was a large heavy object rapped in several layers of newspaper. I sat it on the table and stripped away the paper. A glass vase with female nudes dancing around the outside appeared from the wrappings. Bitty’s naked ladies.
    On-line it didn’t take me long to identify the vase. It wasn’t La Lake but a rare Lalique and it was worth about seventy-five thousand dollars.
    Visions of sugarplums danced in my head. I was rich. No more paying the minimum on my credit cards each month while my pain grew. Best of all, no more twelve-year old crapped out Firebird with no air-conditioning.
    Greed led me into temptation and delivered me to evil. “No one will find out,” it assured me, the kicker, the thing that made it so perfect. The nurse couldn’t tell anyone and for sure Miss Jane was never going to miss the vase. Her train had already left the station. And Bitty, well Bitty would think it was all in her head.
    The porch light came on. Through the glass door I watched Bitty shuffling towards me, her bloated ankles flowing over her lace-less runners and her white hair forming a halo around a face that lit with joy when she saw me. No one on earth was ever as glad to see me as Bitty and no one on earth had ever loved me as much.
    “Why, honey, what are you doing here this time of night?” she said as the screen door swung open.
    I held up the box that once contained baked beans and said, “I found your naked ladies.”