His Last Wife

“Yes. How can I help you?”

After asking Delgado to retrieve a basket of what looked like weeds from the soil, she led him to the back door of the house, chatting the entire way.

The cat Delgado had seen at the front door came racing around the back and flicked her ratty tail against his leg before he entered the house.

In the house, Mama Fee ordered Delgado to take a seat at the kitchen table the way only an old Southern woman could—with a smile he couldn’t turn down.

“I’m actually here looking for a Mrs. Val Taylor. I’ve been here before and spoke to another woman. I left my card with her,” Delgado said. “Do you know if she got it?”

Mama Fee had carried the basket to the sink and had her back to him. She didn’t acknowledge his inquiry. She started humming some tune.

“Ma’am, it is very important that I speak with her. Do you know where she is?”

“No clue. She comes and goes. You know these kids.” Mama Fee looked up from the sink and turned around to Delgado. “Maybe you don’t. Nothing but a kid yourself.”

“She could be in trouble, ma’am. Serious trouble.”

“I know about trouble.”

Delgado pushed the chair he was sitting in back like he was about to get up, but Mama Fee stopped him with a loud voice.

“Been getting ready to make this special tea all morning. Was wondering why I needed to make it. Suppose I knew company was coming. Won’t you stay and have some?” she asked.

“I really can’t. I was just looking for Mrs. Taylor. Do you know when she will be back?”

“I’m actually thinking she’ll be back soon.” Mama Fee carried a pot of leaves and water to the stove. “How about you indulge an old woman’s desire for company and have some tea with me as we wait? It’ll really just make my day. And I promise you’ll love my tea. Everyone does. See, I’m an old woman. From the backwoods and I know how to work these herbs. Can cure just about anything. And I can hear in your voice that you could probably use some healing. What’s that, high blood pressure? I see it in your color.”

Delgado was taken aback. “Well—I—sometimes it is high. My wife, she cooks a lot of food with salt—and—do you know when Mrs. Taylor will back?”

Mama Fee turned the fire on at the stove and it seemed like a ball of fire shot up in the air, turned blue, and disappeared. “Soon,” she said. “Really soon.”

Mama Fee went on with her humming, stopping every so often to compliment her gentleman visitor about his appearance and build. She spoke of her loneliness and more of her tea he’d have to try.

While Delgado could feel himself being conned into a corner, that blue flame that had disappeared was still dancing in his pupils and he couldn’t move. He just nodded and felt the room closing in with the humming and talking.

Soon came and soon left. And Delgado imagined that he was walking out of the house, but there he was, sitting, and soon there was a cup of dirt-brown tea in front of him.

“Drink it, baby,” Mama Fee offered with her voice sounding like the refrain in a spiritual. “Drink it up, my baby. It’ll make you feel better. Make it all better, baby.”

Delgado had left his mind, but Mama Fee was there, holding the teacup up to his mouth, humming and talking to him, coaxing, conning, hypnotizing.

He sipped.

“I’m looking for Mrs. Taylor,” he said, the cadence in his voice matching Mama Fee’s.

She wrapped his hand around the teacup.

“Just sip, baby. Sip. Drink.” She smiled and rubbed some sweat from his temple.

“She’s in trouble,” he whirred.

“I told you, I know trouble. I know it well.” This was whispered from an old woman who now looked young and beautiful and dreamy in Delgado’s eyes. “Now drink. I told ya you’d love it.”

Soon the tea and even the dirt was gone from the little teacup.

Mama Fee was sitting in the chair across from Delgado, watching. The cat was in the house, rubbing her entire torso against his legs, back and forth and between, purring and sometimes even roaring.

Delgado’s eyes were wide open and bloodshot. His face was red too. Sweat was pouring down his forehead and wet his collar. His teeth chattered. His brain was awake, but asleep.