Nobody Knows Your Secret

21

"I think we should keep these papers separate in case the estate administrator needs them," Hadley said.

"Okay," Beanie said, bending over to pick up a broken doll that was missing an eye and a leg.

Its nasty hair was matted. A dark brown stain clung to its body.

"Look, Hadley," Beanie said, "this doll's winkin' at me."

"I don't see why anyone would have saved that," Hadley said. "It looks like it has some kind of contagious disease. Toss it in the dumpster heap, Bean."

"Wonder who poked out her eye?" Beanie said, throwing the doll on the pile of debris that would go to the dumpster outside. "Hadley?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe Eustian Singlepenny was so crabby because he was so crunched in here."

"Could be," said Hadley. "But I got a feeling he was just born that way. Crabby, crotchety, and just plain mean."

"Mean Beanie Bean. Hadley Badly Madly."

"What?"

"I can't make nuthin' rhyme with Eustian, Hadley."

"Don't even try, Bean," Hadley said. "You'll only end up giving yourself a hemorrhoid. Too much strain on the brain is a crime on the 'behime.'"

"You crack me up," Beanie said.

"Well, like I said, a crime on the behime.'"

They worked for about an hour carting junk from the room to the bottom of the porch. Each load in the wheelbarrow was delivered to the dumpster, and the cycle started all over again. Together, they made about a dozen trips back and forth. Finally, the entire floor was cleared of debris.

"You know, Beanie," Hadley said, "if you could cover all your floors up with piles of junk, you'd never have to worry about mopping or vacuuming. How do you ever know if the floors are dirty if you can't see them?"

"Hadley," Beanie said, "that's a hard question. It's like if the moon is made of cheese, how come it's not orange?"

"You're right, my friend," Hadley said. "Life's full of mysteries."

"Ain't it, though," said Beanie. "But I ain't gonna strain over it. Them piles ain't nuthin' to laugh at, Hadley.

 Ardell Devereaux had hisself a bad case 'a piles. Him and Lum was talkin' outside the Spoon. 

Ardell said the itchies was so bad he'd back up to buildings and act like he was scratchin' his back. Lum laughed so hard he started cryin'. 

Lum said he was the same way when he sat in a patch of poison oak. Them tourists must think we got awful itchy shoulder blades. Ardell told Lum to tell 'em your beer belly gives you an overhaul wedgie."

Hadley smiled.

"Hadley! Look!" Beanie said, dropping a box of junk.

The dust cloud caused by this threatened to engulf Beanie.

"It's a dead possum!" Beanie exclaimed.

"It's not dead, Bean," Hadley said. "We startled it."

Hadley knew from her work with Ruth at the wildlife rescue center that opossums were North America's only marsupial. Like kangaroos, opossums carry their young in pouches. If startled, the animal would 'play dead' by curling up on its side and letting its tongue fall out of its open mouth.

"He's hoping we'll leave him alone," Hadley said.

"Let's wander over here to the other side of the room and take a break. We can keep an eye on him from a distance and make sure he's not injured."

"Do you think he's got rabies?" Beanie asked.

"Ruth says that possums are seldom rabid. She told me once that they think their body temperatures are too low to let the rabies virus live."

"Oh. That's good. Ha! Look, Hadley. That ole possum is raisin' from the dead."

"He was never dead, Bean. Just playing like he was," Hadley said.

Beanie stood looking solemnly at the gray fur slowly rise. The possum looked back at Beanie and gave him a big grin. Beanie grinned widely.

The possum ambled off out the open door and into the woods near Eustian's house. Beanie still stood there smiling.

"Beanie," Hadley said.

"Uh-huh," Beanie managed to say through clenched teeth while maintaining his impossibly wide grin.

"What are you doing?" Hadley asked.

"Well," Beanie said, rubbing his jaw muscles as if they were sore and cramped, "I was tryin' to be neighborly."

"Neighborly," Hadley said.

"Yeah. If you was wrong and what I just seen was a possum ghost raise from the dead, I wanted to be sure I was on his good side. I think it worked, Hadley. Did you see him grin at me?"

"He wasn't grinning, Bean," Hadley said. "He was bearing his teeth. Possums have 50 teeth. Did you know that?"

"Fifty! And I thought I was doin' good 'cause I got six."

Hadley stifled a laugh.

"If a possum's angry or scared, he'll bare all those teeth. It's his way of saying 'go away.'"

"Well, anyway," Beanie said, "if he did raise from the dead that means he's a ghost. Fifty teeth or not. I ain't about to tangle with no ghost. That's why, when he showed me his 50 teeth, I showed him my beautiful six. Just so he'd know I was the friendly type who don't want no trouble."

"He won't give you any trouble, Beanie. Let's you and me and your beautiful teeth get back to work."

"Sure, Hadley," Beanie said.

***

From the front room, they worked their way into the parlor. They moved mountain after mountain of trash.

"Legal papers in the boxes," Hadley reminded Beanie. "Everything else into the wheelbarrow for the dumpster."

Beanie and Hadley worked on.

"You know what, Bean," Hadley said, "I think going through all this stuff is a lot like moving backward in time. Just think how many years it took Eustian to collect all this mess. No wonder he never let anybody in his house."

"Probably was afraid he would lose them," Beanie said. "If you got twisted up and went down the wrong path, you would never find your way out. I hope we don't run up on any dried-up skeletons. This house is scary even when the rooms are cleaned out. It just feels mad, Hadley. Like it doesn't want us to see it naked."

"Don't worry, Bean, if we run up on something like that, it will be dead. Besides, I think Bill and the crime tech gang cleared out all the skeletons when they processed the house after Eustian's murder."

"I hope so, Hadley," Beanie said. "There are just so many places for them to hide."

Moving, hauling, and dumping continued until lunch when Beanie and Hadley stopped to eat and rest. Chewing on her baloney sandwich, Hadley sat in the shade of the porch with her back against the wall. She glanced over into one of the boxes of papers. The name "Kyle Winthrop' jumped out at her.

Hadley began to thumb through the papers. They seemed to be pretty much in order despite being piled up and placed on top of chairs and couches. As Hadley looked closer, it appeared Eustian Singlepenny had filed charges against Kyle Winthrop for illegally poaching wild ginseng from his land without permission.