Cutler 04 - Midnight Whispers

Fern get here?" Jefferson whispered.
    "She came on Emily's broom," Gavin quipped. "What?"
    "She just drove here last night, Jefferson. Go back and get washed and dressed. Go on." "What's wrong with her?"
    "She drank too much old whiskey," I said. Gavin and I smiled at each other.
    "Come on, buddy," Gavin said, putting his arm around Jefferson's shoulders. "I'll help you get organized."
    "I'd better see to their coffee," I said and hurried downstairs. Luther was already outside, working. Charlotte was in the kitchen with Homer sitting at the table, looking terrified.
    "She scared him near to death," Charlotte complained.
    "Because he frightened her, Aunt Charlotte. She's furious about him looking in on her," I explained.
    "He didn't mean no harm. He never heard nobody in that room before and had to see," Aunt Charlotte said. I smiled at the motherly way in which she came to his defense.
    "I know, but until they leave, Homer should stay away from them. You understand, Homer? That woman upstairs is not very nice. Every time she sees you, she's just going to scream and scream."
    Homer nodded.
    "I don't want to see her," he said.
    "I don't blame you." I poured two cups of coffee, found a tray, and carried them up to Aunt Fern and Morton. Morton was awake and sitting up in bed, rubbing his face and blinking at the sunlight coming through the window. Aunt Fern was still prone, her eyes closed.
    "Here's your coffee," I said. Her eyes snapped open.
    "Bring it here," she ordered and seized the cup out of my hand when I approached. I went around and handed Morton his cup.
    "Thank you," Morton said.
    "This isn't strong enough," Fern instantly complained. She spit the coffee back into the cup. "It's more like mud water. Maybe it is," she added, eyes wide. "Did Charlotte make it?"
    "Yes, Aunt Fern."
    "Don't drink it, Morton. Charlotte's just crazy enough to really have mixed dirt and water." She took the cup out of his hand and thrust both of them back at me so hard, some of the coffee spilled over, spattering my hands and wrists. It burned, but she didn't care. "You make another pot yourself. You know how to make coffee, don't you, princess? Or can't you do anything? She was always waited on hand and foot," she told Morton.
    "That's not true, Aunt Fern. I often helped Mrs. Boston in the kitchen," I said.
    "She often helped Mrs. Boston," she mimicked in a sing-song voice. "Yeah, I'm sure you did a lot. Well, get us some decent coffee and hurry up about it. I want to take my bath soon and get up to eat a good breakfast. That creature gone?" she asked.
    "You frightened him more than he frightened you, Aunt Fern. He doesn't want to be around you, don't worry," I said.
    "Good."
    "What creature?" Morton asked.
    "You'd sleep through an earthquake," Aunt Fern told him. "After you've drunk old whiskey all night, that is," she added and they both laughed and started tickling each other, behaving like two children again. Then Aunt Fern realized I was staring at them. "Why are you still hanging around?" she cried at me. "Get me the coffee," she ordered hotly.
    I hurried out and downstairs again. I made her fresh coffee, but I made it so strong that Gavin said it could melt iron. Now that he was fully awake, Jefferson insisted on coming along with me, but when I returned to the master suite, I found the doors closed and thought I had better knock.
    "Just a minute," I heard Aunt Fern say in a breathless voice. Then I heard some moans, followed by short cries of pleasure.
    "The coffee's getting cold, Aunt Fern," I shouted through the door. I knew what they were doing and was embarrassed for both myself and Jefferson. "Should 1 come back in a little while?"
    Instead of an answer, I heard her cries come faster and louder, followed by one long moan.
    "What's happening to Aunt Fern?" Jefferson asked.
    "She doesn't feel too well, Jefferson. Why don't you go back downstairs and finish your breakfast and then come up to say hello, okay."
    He shrugged and went off. A moment later, Aunt Fern cried, "Enter."
    I opened the doors. She had the blanket up to her chin. Her face was flushed, her hair wild. Morton was lying there with his eyes closed, a smirk of satisfaction on his face.
    "Here's your fresh coffee," I said. Aunt Fern smiled at me and sat up.
    "Good." She took hers and handed Morton his. Then she turned back to me. "Get a little bit of an education out there?" she asked. Had she no dignity? No self-respect? "I bet you had your little ear