I, Gracie

by Sharon Sala

  "Thank you so much," Darlene said, and hurried to where Gracie was sitting. "Here, honey. The ladies in the kitchen got your back."

  Gracie grabbed the tea, drinking thirstily, and then took a small bite. The warm bread and cold ham was heaven in her mouth, and slowly, the fainting feeling began to fade.

  "Thank you," she whispered, as the room began to fill.

  Darlene gave her a thumbs up, and then Brother Harp finally appeared, gave the blessing for the food, and the dinner began.

  The entire Dunham family was seated at the same table by assumption that they would want to be together. So, the conversation there existed only when others came up to speak to them.

  James was soon surrounded by people he'd gone to school with, and for a short time, he felt almost human again.

  Daphne's stomach settled enough to make a plate, while Mamie and Joel stood in line at the buffet, filling theirs as the people moved along.

  Later, as Gracie ate, she kept thinking how much Mama would have loved this. She loved a big gathering, and she loved parties. And even though she wasn't here for this, she was still the star of her own show.

  Once everyone had settled down to eating, Gracie stood, and began walking among the tables, and once she knew she had their attention, she spoke up.

  "If I could have your attention for a moment, I have a few words."

  The room immediately silenced.

  Gracie smiled. "Mama had her say today, didn't she?"

  Laughter and comments ensued.

  "So, I am, after all, my mother's child, and I have a little something I need to say to all of you while we're here together. It's about the fund that was set up for me at the bank. I only learned of this yesterday. I don't know whose idea it was, and I guess it doesn't matter. The shock came from how many donated. I can't say as how I've ever been more stunned, or more grateful. There aren't enough words to say how much I appreciate it, or how badly it was needed. I won't be able to send personal thanks to everyone, but if you would be so kind as to spread my sincerest gratitude for your love and generosity, I would appreciate it.

  "Over the past nine years, I'd bet money that everyone of us here got a dose of Mama as she was coming undone. But I want you to know that I saw your patience with her, and how you excused her erratic behavior. I appreciated it, and I loved you for it. Mama was a strong-willed woman when she had her wits about her. But going crazy, she gave bad a whole new name. Yet, standing here in this place with all of you, I can honestly say I would not change a thing. I would do it all over again, just for the moments when I could still find her within the madness."

  And then everyone was on their feet and clapping, and hugging Gracie, and she couldn't see for the tears blurring her vision.

  Chapter Eight

  After Gracie sat down, Mamie leaned into Daphne.

  "What did she mean by Mama trying to kill her?" she whispered.

  Daphne shrugged.

  James frowned. "I doubt that she was being literal."

  Joel stared at James as if he'd just lost his mind. "Then where the hell did all those scars come from?" he asked.

  After that, conversation ceased.

  Gracie knew they were whispering about her, but their time was coming. They had one more stop to make this day before they could scurry back under their respective rocks.

  They had refused to come home while Mama was alive.

  Now she'd given them no choice.

  She'd picked at her food, eating all she could swallow, and then sat sipping iced tea and watching her family saving face, redirecting the locals' curious questions as to where they'd been, and basking in their moments of brief glory as they related their personal triumphs.

  None of it mattered to Gracie. She was just waiting for her moment to slip away from the church. It finally came when Daphne and Mamie left to go to the ladies room, and James became involved in a conversation with an old friend.

  At that moment, Gracie turned and gave Darlene a quick hug.

  "Thank you for everything today. You are the best sister I could ever hope for. Thank the kids for my laptop. Tell Caleb he is a lifesaver for loading it. Give me a thirty-minute head start, and then tell James and the girls I'm already gone."

  "I will. Love you, Gracie. Call me when you get stopped for the night. I need to know where you are, and where you're going. I don't want to be worrying about you."

  "I promise," Gracie said, and slipped out. She wanted to get home, change clothes, and load up.

  As she was going out the back of the dining hall, one of the church ladies handed her a little sack.

  "We know you're leaving Sweetwater. We'll miss you, but Godspeed, sugar. Here's a little something to take with you on the road."

  "Thank you," Gracie said. "Dinner was delicious. Please thank everyone for me. I will miss you all, but life's been waiting on me for a really long time, and I'm already playing catch-up just to get started."

  And then she was out the door.

  Minutes later, she passed the city limit sign, heading west toward home. The ten miles seemed shorter. Looking in the rearview mirror as she drove, she could almost imagine the road rolling up behind her—giving her no other options but to keep moving forward.

  The highway ahead of her was long, straight, and flat, and she saw home long before she reached it. One turn to the left, and she was on the driveway and headed to the house. She slid to a stop at the front porch and hurried inside, then went straight back to her bedroom to change.

  She'd left out one of the new pairs of jean shorts and a blue t-shirt, and quickly changed, then packed her new laptop and what she'd been wearing, turned off the fan, and began carrying suitcases from the house to her car. The old quilt went in next, then the box with sheets and towels, and finally, her grandmother's cuckoo clock.

  She locked the car, then went back into the house and headed for the old roll-top desk.

  She dug out her mama's will, the key to the safety deposit box, the extra house keys, and carried it all to the kitchen table. Once she added her own house key to the pile, she was done. Now all she had to do was wait for the rest of them to show up.

  She turned on the box fan in the kitchen, got the last cold Coke out of the refrigerator, and walked out on the back porch to toast the vista before her.

  "To Dunhams, good and bad," she said, took a long drink, then sat down in the porch swing to await their arrival.

  James was the first to notice Gracie was gone and looked straight at Darlene.

  "Is Gracie already gone?"

  Darlene shrugged. "Likely."

  "Why didn't she say something?" he asked.

  "Say what? You've already heard what she said here. If you want to hear the rest of it, go home."

  James glared at her, red-faced and angry, and began looking for his sisters, but Darlene didn't care about his attitude or him. Her job here was over, so she gathered up her things and left. She'd done everything she'd come to Sweetwater to do, and now she wanted to go home. Even if it would be way up into the night before she got there, she just wanted to be gone from this place. So, she went back to her hotel and checked out. She was southbound on her way back to Houston, while James, Daphne, Joel and Mamie all headed for the farm.

  They talked nonstop all the way until they took the turn off the highway toward the house. At that point, shock set in.

  "What the fucking hell happened here?" James muttered.

  "We're about to find out," Joel said.

  As they got out, they noticed Gracie's car was full of luggage, and the front door to the house was ajar.

  Heat hit them as they pushed the door inward.

  "Oh my God! Why is it so hot in here?" Daphne cried.

  And on that question, Gracie walked into the living room.

  "Because the central air died four years ago. No money to fix it. Come into the kitchen. There's a box fan."

  And then she turned her back, leaving them to straggle behind her, eyeing the worn furn
iture, the limp curtains, and a faint and gathering layer of dust on everything.

  James was already shedding his sport coat and tie, and so was Joel, but they all paused in the kitchen doorway, eyeing the blackened ceiling and stained floor.

  "What the hell has happened to the place?" James asked.

  "You will sit down to get your answers, or none at all, and never raise your voice to me again," Gracie said.

  "I'm sorry," James said. "I didn't mean—"

  Daphne pushed him forward. They all sat.

  Gracie started talking, but her face and voice were devoid of expression.

  "The condition of this property is on your heads. We had a two-year drought. The tractor broke. The farm truck died. We had no money to fix any of it. I sold cattle to pay property taxes and Mama's medical bills, and within three years, all of the cattle had been sold off because there was no hay left in the barn, and no money to buy any. Mama got a Social Security check every month. We lived on that.

  "Five years ago, Mama freaked, thought I was a stranger in her house, and nearly killed me. I spent a week in the hospital, and she spent a month in the psych ward. When I got well enough, I brought her home."

  They were staring at her now, their eyes wide with shock, too horrified to even cry.

  Gracie pointed to the floor.

  "That's my blood. It won't wash out." She pointed to the ceiling. "Mama set a skillet on fire. It caught fire to the ceiling. That's the end result. The knobs to the stove are hidden in the drawer next to the refrigerator, behind the stack of potholders. And, every knife, every object that had a sharp point or anything that would cut, is up in the attic in Great-Grandpa Dunham's army trunk, beneath his uniform."

  Daphne jumped up and ran outside, throwing up off the side of the porch.

  Gracie stood with her arms folded until her sister came back, washed her hands and face at the sink, then sat down again.

  Gracie picked up where she'd left off.

  "It wasn't easy keeping up with our mother once she lost her fucking mind. She wandered away from me twice. First time, I put her down for a nap and went to clean the bathroom. I came back to check on her, and she was gone. It was November...cold and threatening snow. After a frantic search all over the house and outbuildings, I found a piece of her flannel shirt on the barbed wire fence and realized she was out on the prairie. I searched for her for a long time in the car. It was starting to snow. And then I heard Daddy's voice telling me to look up. When I did, I saw turkey buzzards circling and drove toward them. She was curled up in the grass. She thought the cows got out and went looking for them. Only they'd been gone for years.

  "The last time I lost her was in the middle of the night. I found her in the dark, in the chicken house gathering eggs. But the chickens were long gone. She killed them one day in some delusional moment. Wrung all their necks."

  James looked out through the window behind Gracie, staring at the vastness of that land and saw the truth of what abandoning Gracie had done.

  Mamie had her face buried against Joel's chest. He was the only one with the guts to still face Gracie.

  Gracie took a slow breath. "Mama didn't just get crazy. She got mean. And we went hungry. If it had not been for Darlene, we would have starved. She sent us two thousand dollars a month, every month, for six years."

  James's head came up. "That's the alimony money I send her!"

  Gracie frowned. "I know all about what you did, and your 'hush money,' as she calls it. She said she'd never take anything from you for as long as she lived, and she gave it to us because we needed it."

  Joel shifted in his seat. "Gracie, I am profoundly sorry that we weren't contributing to your welfare. I sincerely believed we were, but I also blame myself for not following up to make sure."

  Mamie wailed. "I'm sorry, Gracie. I just let time get away from me."

  Gracie didn't even look at her.

  Daphne cleared her throat.

  "I was selfish and afraid. I didn't call you because I was afraid of Mama and didn't want to stay with her. I am so sorry."

  Gracie stared Daphne down, refusing to accept her lame excuse.

  "Bullshit, Daphne. You think I wasn't scared? You think I wanted to stay? I was afraid of her, too. Especially after she tried to kill me, so I slept with my bedroom door locked at night and never turned my back on her again. The truth is, I don't care what any of you have to say. You no longer exist in my world."

  Then she pointed at the papers and keys between them. "That's Mama's will. The land is in a trust. James inherits everything because that's what Great-Grandpa Dunham started—passing it down by blood to the eldest Dunham son. James can sell it, or not. It's his to do with as he wishes."

  James turned red. "I knew nothing about this," he said, as his sisters shrieked.

  Gracie ignored them.

  "That's the key to the safety deposit box, and the extra keys to the house. Randy Jacobs offered to give you a fair price for the place if you decide to sell. He used to stop by now and then when the cattle kept getting out and the fences were falling down, but then Mama threw a knife at him, and he never came back...until the other day after she was gone. My time here is over, and if God is good, I will never see any of you again."

  Then she palmed her car keys and strode out of the room, her steps long and steady. She paused once in the hallway, saw the dust already on the surface of the table again, and one last time, wrote her name.

  I, Gracie, am gone.

  They heard the front screen door slam behind her as she left, and then the car starting up. She drove away, slinging gravel out from beneath her tires and leaving a rooster-tail of dust to mark her passing.

  She headed East with the sun at her back and her heart on fire. The pain of betrayal was choking. She hadn't just lost her last parent today. She'd lost the rest of her family.

  Tears were rolling now, but she kept wiping them away. She wasn't a quitter. She was a survivor, and the only way she was going to get better was to get far, far away.

  The faster she went, the more the tires began to hum, and within the sound, she heard a scream. And she answered back, screaming and screaming until she had no more breath.

  She flew through Sweetwater with tear-stained cheeks, took the I-44 North, and never looked back.

  Gracie was gone, but the ensuing fight among her siblings was still ongoing. They had shouted and argued and cried until they were all red-faced and dripping in sweat, and then stopped as if someone had suddenly turned off a switch.

  They stood, staring at each other across the old kitchen table, their hearts hammering, their disbelief at where they were suddenly coming to the fore.

  Finally, James held up his hands in defeat.

  "It may be in my name, but we'll share it three ways," he said.

  "What about Gracie?" Joel asked.

  "If we don't exist for her, then she doesn't exist for us, remember?" James muttered.

  "Then we don't want any part of it," Joel said.

  Mamie opened her mouth to argue, then saw the look on Joel's face and nodded in silent agreement.

  Daphne sighed. "Gracie nearly died to keep Mama and this place. She bled to save it. I won't take blood money. I'm going home," she said, then walked out and drove away.

  Daphne’s departure prompted Joel and Mamie's exit, leaving James in the old house alone.

  "I didn't ask for this," he muttered.

  Then he picked up the will and the keys and left, locking the door behind him, thinking what a mess. What an ever-loving mess.

  Joel drove straight to the bank with Mamie blubbering in the seat beside him, then got out and went inside. A short while later, he came out, and got back in the car.

  "What did you do?" Mamie asked.

  "We will not be going on our annual Christmas cruise this year. I donated the ten thousand dollars to Gracie's fund, instead."

  "Oh no," Mamie moaned.

  Joel glared. "Suck it up, Mamie. I will never get the ima
ges of that farm, or what Gracie endured, out of my head. Never. Be grateful for what you have now. There's no guarantee that it'll always be there."

  The miles were long. The stops for gas and food brief. Gracie ate what they'd given her from the church and was still on I-44 when she finally reached Tulsa, Oklahoma. She needed to stop. She was so tired she was sick, but she kept driving, looking for a place that felt right, and then she saw an Embassy Suites just off the interstate and exited.

  Everything she owned in the world was in this car, but as she pulled into the parking lot, the only thing she got out was her overnight bag. She'd already walked out of the wilderness and was leaving it up to God to watch out for what she had left.

  Traffic from the nearby freeway drowned out the sounds of her footsteps as she walked toward the motel. It was creepy this time of night, being out in the parking lot alone. The closer she got, the faster she went, until she was almost running when she entered the lobby.

  A clerk at the registration desk looked up as Gracie approached.

  "I don't have a reservation, but I need a room for what's left of this night," Gracie said.

  "Yes, ma'am," he said. "Are you traveling alone or will someone be joining you?"

  "Just me," Gracie said.

  A few minutes later, she exited the elevator on the fifth floor, oriented herself as to which direction she needed to go, and headed for her room.

  She turned on the light as she entered, locked and turned the deadbolt, then staggered toward the bed.

  The room was cool and quiet as she made her way into the bathroom. She came out nude, put her phone on the charger, pulled back the covers, then remembered she'd promised to text Darlene.

  In Tulsa for the night. I'm going to Branson, Missouri to check out jobs and living options. I'll stay in touch. Love you.

  And then she crawled between the sheets, found a comfy spot on the pillow, and closed her eyes.

  * * *

  They'd been driving for hours...going to the Texas State Fair. Gracie had worn out her welcome in the back seat with her three siblings, and at the last stop, they'd moved her to the front seat by Mama.