“No, no.” She ducked her head against her shoulder and protected her middle with her crossed arms, which were bleeding from dozens of scratches left by the brambles in the ditch.
“Missy, missy, wha’chu doin’ out heah this time o’ evenin’?” The voice was black. So were the hands that were outstretched toward her. “Missy, you hurt?”
He touched her shoulder. She flinched. He quickly pulled back his hands. “I ain’t gonna hurt you, missy. What’s happened to you?”
Against the twin beams of the headlights, he was merely a silhouette, but Jade made out a pair of overalls and a slouchy felt hat. Again he extended his hands toward her. This time she didn’t recoil. He placed his hands beneath her forearms and gingerly backed up, pulling her along with him, up out of the ditch.
Keeping one hand beneath her arm, the man opened the passenger side and helped her into his old pickup. The door closed with a loud clatter of rusty metal that jarred her. It was dry inside, but there was no heater. She began to shiver uncontrollably.
“Where you headed, missy?” he asked as he slid behind the wheel. “Do you stay ’round heah?”
“Would you take me to the hospital, please?” She didn’t recognize her own voice. It was hoarse from screaming. Neal had slapped her for screaming. Hutch had covered her mouth with his large hand. Her screams had made Lamar anxious.
“The hospital? Sure thing, missy. You just rest now. Everythin’s gonna be all right.”
Jade did as the man suggested. She laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She was safe. Warm tears seeped from her closed eyes and rolled down her cheeks. She cried silently as the ancient truck bounced along the highway.
Either she dozed or momentarily lost consciousness because, almost immediately it seemed, the truck slowed down and came to a halt. The man got out and went around to open the door for her.
“Thank you,” she whispered as he helped her out. When she stepped to the ground, her lower body began to throb painfully. She swayed and had to grab a support pole. Closing her eyes, she rested her cheek against the cold metal surface until the dizziness subsided. “Thank you,” she repeated.
She turned to the man who had kindly rescued her, but his truck was backing away. “No, wait.” She shielded her eyes against the headlights, but couldn’t make out what he or the truck looked like. There was no front license plate. When the pickup reached the main road, the forward gears were engaged and the truck lumbered off into the rainy darkness. Jade supposed that beating a hasty retreat was his only protection against those who would jump to conclusions about his involvement with a white rape victim. Unfortunately, there were still many in Palmetto who, given the situation, would act first and ask questions later.
She made hesitant progress toward the sliding glass doors where EMERGENCY was spelled
out in red neon. The doors slid open. Beyond them, the blue-white fluorescent lighting was offensive. She dreaded being exposed to it, so she hovered just inside the door, waiting for someone to notice her. Two nurses and a man who looked like a janitor were chatting and laughing together at the desk.
Jade had thought she would welcome reporting the attack, but now that it was imminent, she was filled with dread. This was only the first of many difficult steps to see that justice was done. In order to achieve her goal, however, she was willing to bear whatever difficulties and embarrassment she might encounter.
Leaving a trail of mud behind her, she worked up her courage and shuffled toward the desk. “Excuse me.” Three pairs of eyes turned toward her. “Can you help me, please?”
At the sight of her, their faces registered shock for several seconds. Then the janitor stepped out of the way, one of the nurses reached for the telephone, and the other rounded the desk to lend Jade a supportive arm.
“What happened to you, honey? Were you in an accident?”
“I was raped.”
The nurse looked at her sharply. “Raped? Here in Palmetto?”
“Beside a channel, just off the coastal highway.”
“Sweet Jesus.”
Jade was keenly aware of the janitor, who was taking in every word and staring at her breasts through her gaping blouse. The other nurse was speaking into the telephone. “Dr. Harvey, we need you in the ER. A girl just came in. She says she was raped.”
“I was raped.” Jade’s voice cracked. She was very near tears. She wished the janitor would stop gawking at her.
“Come on, honey, let’s put you in here to wait for the doctor. Want me to call somebody for you?”
“Not until I’ve cleaned up.”
The nurse led her into a small examination room. The curtain she pulled around the table was flimsy and billowy, like a yellow parachute. “Lordy, lordy, you’re a mess. Get out of those clothes. Everything. The doctor’ll have to do a pelvic, you know. Put this on.” She handed Jade a blue-and-white striped cotton hospital gown.
“Can’t you do it?” she asked tremulously.
“Do what, honey?” The nurse was laying out stainless steel tools. They looked repugnant and terrifying.
“The examination.” She didn’t want a man near her, touching her. She didn’t think she could survive having to open her legs and expose herself to a man.