All We Have Is Now

by Lisa Schroeder

  “Let’s go with awesome,” Vince says. He looks at Emerson. “You go first.”

  “You mean, besides this morning?”

  He reaches over and strokes her hair, glancing at her briefly. The look in his eyes makes Emerson blush. “Yeah. Besides this morning.”

  BEFORE HER mom

  told her to leave.

  Before she had to

  change schools.

  Before her life

  turned upside down.

  She had friends,

  and she had fun.

  One summer day in August,

  it was the kind of hot

  that makes people

  flock to malls and

  movie theaters to cool off.

  Her friend

  Annie invited her

  to go waterskiing

  with her older brother, Chris,

  and his best friend, Paul.

  As she imagined the day

  spent on a cool lake,

  with cute boys in a boat,

  Emerson thought,

  this must be how

  Charlie felt when he

  found a golden ticket for

  the chocolate factory.

  And the day

  did not disappoint.

  The lake was a beautiful

  cobalt blue and

  bone-chilling cold.

  She’d never been

  waterskiing before,

  and it took her a few times

  to get the hang of it.

  But once she got up,

  she wanted to stay there,

  flying across the water,

  the warm sun on her face,

  the cool spray on her legs.

  They took turns,

  and when she wasn’t skiing,

  she was flirting with Paul,

  who flirted right back.

  The best kind of days

  are the ones that make

  you feel like you are living

  inside a kaleidoscope,

  twirling and swirling

  with dazzling joy.

  It doesn’t happen often.

  But when it does,

  you hold on tight and

  wish for the delight to

  go on

  and on

  and on.

  Forever.

  CARL WONDERS how long he’s been on the sofa. It feels like it’s been a long time, but he’s not sure. He hears muffled voices coming from the kitchen area. Are they talking about him? Trying to figure out how to get him home? Because he told them, didn’t he?

  He must have told them how desperately he’s trying to get home.

  Or did he?

  It’s so hard to remember what’s been said. How much the lady who talks too fast knows about his situation.

  These are the things he knows:

  She found him on the street.

  With the help of her daughter, they brought him here, to their house.

  His car had been stolen. Except, he didn’t have a car. He was going to take someone else’s. Someone he’d just met.

  It takes him a minute to remember his name, but finally, he does.

  Jerry. He was going to take Jerry’s car. But someone knocked him out and they took it instead. The lady who lives in this house and her daughter came by and found him. They were looking for her other daughter downtown. Because she’s a runaway.

  There was something about her picture that seemed hauntingly familiar.

  He wants to see it again. To sit up and study it more closely. And to tell them he has to get home very soon.

  But he stays still, with his eyes closed. Because anything else right now seems almost impossible.

  WHEN EMERSON finishes her story of the waterskiing day, Vince says, “Sounds like a great day. But I don’t like that Paul guy.”

  Emerson smirks. “No? And why’s that?”

  “How old were you? Like, twelve? Talk about robbing the cradle.”

  “Thirteen, I think. And honestly, I flirted with him more than he flirted with me. I was probably just a stupid kid to him.”

  “Were you wearing a bikini?”

  Emerson gives him a friendly shove. “All right, that’s enough, Mr. Make-a-Mountain-Out-of-a-Molehill.”

  He gives her a sideways glance. “All right, Granny Steele. Where’d you get that one? Watch a lot of Little House on the Prairie when you were younger?”

  “No, actually, I got it from Buzz. Remember how we tried to tell him to go to the doctor? That’s what he said. Told us we were making a mountain out of a molehill.”

  One of the girls clears her throat in the back, a gentle reminder that Vince and Emerson aren’t alone.

  “Anyway,” Emerson says. “I told you mine. Now you tell us yours.”

  Emerson turns and watches Vince’s face, wondering if she’ll see any signs of regret for coming up with this game or whatever it is. After all, it’s going to force him to talk about something from his past, when he was pretty adamant a little while ago that it’s the last thing he wants to do.

  But he doesn’t flinch. “Man, it’s hard to pick one,” Vince says. “I mean, you know I’d take any day my mom and I were together. But I guess, since we’re heading down to Salem, there’s one day that stands out in my mind. It was a summer day, too, though not as hot as your day, Em. I think it was Labor Day, the day before school starts. I can remember the warm temperature with the cool breeze as we made our way around the fairgrounds. It was the Oregon State Fair, and to my little self at the time, it seemed like a pretty wonderful place. The smell of curly fries and corn dogs floating through the air. The way my stomach felt after we rode on the roller coaster. How it seemed like we were on top of the world when we stopped at the highest point on the Ferris wheel.”

  “How old were you?” Emerson asks.

  “I don’t know, six or seven probably. I wanted to go on some of the bigger rides, but Mom wouldn’t let me. Said they’d make me sick.” He smiles. “But we went on the carousel three times in a row.” He glances at Emerson before he turns his attention back to the road. “Isn’t that crazy? She loved that thing. And as I went round and round on my silly painted horse, the cheerful organ music blaring in my ears, all I could think about was how much I wanted to go on the Kamikaze and the Tilt-A-Whirl.”

  “You probably would have been too short anyway,” Kendall says.

  Vince chuckles. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  “I wonder why she liked it so much,” Emerson ponders. “Must have been something special about it, you know? Maybe it brought back happy memories from her own childhood.”

  “You might be right. I wish now I’d asked her.” He pauses for a moment before he continues. “Anyway, we stayed at the fair all day long. Saw the cows and the big fat mama pig with her litter of piglets. Watched a horse show in the arena. Ate a corn dog.”

  “What about curly fries?” Emerson asks.

  “Those, too. And that’s not all. We went to a food booth in the shape of a red barn because my mom said they made the best strawberry shake she’d ever had. And she wasn’t kidding. They blended it right there, with fresh milk, ice cream, and real strawberries. I’m telling you, it was like drinking heaven from a straw.”

  “Okay, now I want a corn dog and strawberry shake,” Kendall says.

  “Me too,” Kailee says.

  The car is quiet for a moment. Emerson closes her eyes and tries to remember what a homemade milk shake tastes like, because it’s been so long. She made them at home, once in a while, with her mom helping out. They used to make cookies together, too, when she was young. Oatmeal, with chocolate chips. They used the blender and ground up the oatmeal really fine, so they were chewy, but not too chewy.

  When Kailee speaks, Emerson’s eyes snap open. “Your mom sounds cool. Are you going to see her? After you drop us off?”

  Emerson squeezes the door handle, bracing herself, nervous about how he’ll respond to her question. But he answer
s very matter-of-factly. “No. She died when I was eight.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Kailee says, sounding horrified. “Vince, I’m so sorry.”

  “Hey, it’s all right,” he says as he glances in the rearview. “You didn’t know. And I’m the fool who came up with the silly game, right? Now let’s hear yours.”

  Kendall and Kailee squabble about who goes first, and Emerson tunes them out as she stares at the empty fields they pass along the interstate.

  Why is it that people think remembering something good will make them happy? Because a lot of times, remembering something good just makes you sad you’re not back there, instead of here.

  THEY MAKE it to Salem in record time. The car’s navigation system isn’t working, so the girls do their best to get them to their house from memory. Before now, they haven’t really paid attention to street names, but the twins are good at recognizing landmarks. They make a few wrong turns, but eventually Vince pulls into the driveway of their tiny, rundown house.

  “Home, sweet home,” Emerson says, turning around and looking at the girls. But they don’t seem very thrilled. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know. I kind of feel bad, I guess,” Kailee says, looking like she might cry again. “Maybe we should have waited for her.”

  “No,” Kendall says firmly. “We did the right thing. Mom’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.”

  Vince nods. “I think she’s right. Now come on, let’s go say hello to Teddy.”

  There’s a key under the mat, and Emerson can’t help but think about how unsafe that practice is nowadays. Though this place probably isn’t high on any criminal’s list. The light blue paint is peeling off the siding and the front yard is overgrown, with more weeds than lawn.

  “Sorry about the mess,” Kendall says as she pushes on the front door. “We didn’t clean up before we took off for Grandma’s.”

  When Emerson steps inside, she can see exactly what Kendall means. There are piles of laundry on the sofa and love seat. Dirty dishes and various food packages cover the coffee and end tables.

  They make their way through the family room to the small dining area, where there’s a sliding glass door leading to the backyard.

  Teddy must have heard the car doors slam or something, because the Australian Shepherd is on his hind legs, scratching at the door, wanting to be let in. The girls rush to see him, opening the door and then dropping down on either side of him. He’s gray and black with light brown spots here and there, and a fluffy white chest.

  After he lets the twins know how happy he is to see them, he comes over to say hello to Vince and Emerson.

  “Oh, Vince, look at his eyes,” Emerson says. “One’s blue and the other one’s brown. Isn’t that cool?”

  They pet him for a minute, until Teddy turns around and goes back to Kailee and Kendall, who lavish him with more affection.

  Vince nervously puts his hands in his pockets as he says, “Well, I guess we should get going. Unless there’s anything else you need?”

  “Um, can I talk to you for a second?” Emerson asks. She tips her head slightly toward the kitchen nearby. “Alone?”

  The girls continue their lovefest with the dog as Emerson and Vince step away. If the family room is a mess, the kitchen is a disaster. Emerson wrinkles her nose at the smell of something bad. Something … rotten.

  “I don’t think we should leave them here alone,” she whispers.

  Vince scowls. “Why not? This is where they belong. This is where they wanted to come, right? And they’re a hell of a lot safer here than that store where we found them.”

  “I know, but—”

  “But what?”

  “I feel bad for them,” she says as she glances at the counter covered with food-encrusted dishes, pots, and pans. “Can’t we do something special for them before we go?”

  Vince checks the clock on the microwave, before he answers. “Em. We had a plan. And I love that you’re so worried about them and want to help them, but I want to help you. I know I keep saying this, but we don’t have a lot of time.”

  “It’s not even noon yet,” she replies. “We have time to do a little something fun with them. I mean, come on, isn’t it just so depressing, thinking of them sitting in this disgusting place by themselves for the next ten hours or whatever?”

  “What do you want to do, exactly?”

  Emerson crosses her arms and looks out the small window above the kitchen sink. Her eyes land on a little garden gnome in the flower bed. It makes Emerson smile. He’s cute. Friendly looking.

  “Maybe we could all go to a park,” she says, continuing to stare at the gnome. There’s a memory in the far corner of her brain she can’t quite reach. She scrunches her forehead trying to grab on to it. It seems like it’s important right now.

  And then, like the last number on a combination lock, it clicks into place.

  She remembers.

  BENEATH THE tall trees,

  among the delicate ferns,

  are bright, colorful flowers,

  like something from

  a giant Playmobil set.

  They aren’t real,

  those flowers,

  which makes them

  adorable and silly

  all at the same time.

  Beside those fake but

  fanciful flowers is Alice,

  in her blue-and-white dress,

  looking up at a caterpillar

  sitting on an oversized

  mushroom.

  And so it goes,

  throughout the Enchanted Forest.

  Imaginary characters,

  from books and fairy tales.

  Little Red Riding Hood.

  Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

  Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

  It’s exactly

  what they need.

  To step inside

  a land of make-believe

  when reality

  is at its worst.

  CARL HAS another dream. This time, he dreams of his wife, sitting on the floor in an empty house, crying.

  She cries and cries until he shakes himself awake because he can’t take it anymore.

  He sits up and yells, “I have to get home.”

  The woman appears, wringing her hands and looking quite anxious. “Oh, Carl, I don’t know if that’s a very good idea. You’re not well.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he says, not looking up at her. He keeps his eyes focused on the empty glass that sits on the coffee table. He wills himself to sit there, strong and steady.

  “Do you have someone at home, waiting for you?” the woman asks.

  “Yes. My wife. Her name is Trinity. She’s been waiting for me for a very long time, and I just really need to get to her.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t take you right now.”

  Now he looks up at her. “Why not?”

  “Because Frankie went to see her dad. We only have the one car.”

  He sinks back into the sofa cushions. “Will she be gone long?”

  “A couple of hours, I’m guessing. Paige begged me to let her go, too.” She sighs. “I hope that wasn’t a mistake. Paige isn’t his kid, so he may not be too happy about the third wheel. Just figured the peace and quiet would be good for you.”

  He closes his eyes and pinches his nose, because, God, his head hurts.

  “Do you need some more pain reliever?” the woman asks him.

  He gives her a simple nod, keeping his eyes closed. A minute later, she says, “Here you go. Drink slowly this time. See if you can keep it down.”

  His eyes flutter open, and she hands him the glass of water and the pills. After he takes them, he hands the glass back to her. “Do you think you could call Frankie? Tell her I need to get home?”

  “I can’t. The phones are out.”

  He closes his eyes again. “It feels like I’ve been trying to get home forever.”

  The lady sits down next to him. “You sound like Dor
othy.”

  He doesn’t respond, because he’s not sure what she means.

  “You know,” she continues. “Dorothy, in The Wizard of Oz. Maybe you should try clicking your heels together.” He turns his head slightly and looks at her. “Sorry. Probably shouldn’t joke about it.”

  “It’s all right,” he says. “You’re trying to lighten the mood. By the way, I don’t know your name, and I feel like if I’m going to continue to camp out on your comfy sofa indefinitely, I should at least know that.”

  “It’s Rhonda.”

  He takes a deep breath. “Great. Thank you, Rhonda. For everything you’ve done.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” he says. “That you weren’t able to find your daughter.”

  “To be honest, I really didn’t expect we’d find her. But Frankie, she just won’t give up.”

  “I have to tell you, when I saw the photo, there’s something familiar about her. My brain is just so fuzzy—”

  Rhonda sits up straight, her eyes big and round. “Wait. Carl, are you saying you think you’ve seen her?”

  “Maybe,” he says. “Actually, yes, I think I have. It’s like watching a movie or a television show when I know I’ve seen one of the actors before, but I can’t place where.”

  Rhonda reaches over and gets the framed photo from the end table, and sets it on the coffee table in front of them. They’re quiet as they both stare at the girl.

  “She’s lovely,” Carl says.

  “She hates me,” Rhonda says.

  “No. I bet that’s not true.”

  “We had a terrible falling-out,” Rhonda explains. “I didn’t handle things well. If only I’d known then what I know now.”

  “I’m guessing a lot of people are saying that today.”

  “You think so?” Rhonda asks.

  “Of course. Pretty sure it’d be impossible today to find anyone who doesn’t have at least one regret.”

  As soon as the last word is out, something snaps in his brain. Literally, it’s like a rubber band has been released, and where it was tight and uncomfortable before, it is now loose and relaxed.

  Because he knows. He knows where he’s seen the girl.

  VINCE PULLS into the mostly empty parking lot and parks the car. He and Emerson turn around at the same time, and Emerson grins at the sight of Teddy, sitting in between Kailee and Kendall in the backseat, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. The way his mouth is open and drawn back, it looks like he’s smiling. And maybe he is. He gets to go where no dogs have gone before.