Following Rain

by Darrel Nelson

  “So where do things go from here, Paul?” Brenda asked.

  The camera zoomed in on Paul. “Frank Tolley was released on bail but will be back in court in the New Year.”

  “Will today’s proceedings satisfy those most affected by his actions?”

  Paul looked straight into the camera and Rain felt a rush of emotions. His blue eyes seemed to bore directly into hers, and yet when she looked closer, she was aware that something was missing in them. The usual verve and sparkle wasn’t there, although he disguised it well behind his practiced professionalism. The breakup was obviously hard on him, too, and it showed in his eyes.

  “We haven’t seen Paul for a long time,” Charlie said, glancing at Rain, who had moved further into the living room. “When can we get back together and do some more fun things?”

  Rain smiled noncommittally and stayed focused on the TV.

  “Yes, I think this will satisfy those most affected, Brenda,” Paul replied. “The bottom line is that Frank Tolley was in a position of trust, and he betrayed those who were counting on him. He disregarded their feelings and their circumstances in order to pursue his own personal agenda. He gained their confidence and then took advantage of it.”

  Rain felt drawn by Paul’s gaze and found herself sitting on the arm of the couch.

  “The sad thing here, Brenda, is that by his own admission, he didn’t start out intending to do any harm. It began with a small, seemingly inconsequential decision, but it grew in consequence and seriousness until it became bigger than he could handle. And when he realized what he’d done, he wanted to make it right but he didn’t know how.”

  Rain wet her lips and fought the emotions that churned inside her.

  “It’s a cautionary tale, Brenda. He said he tried to explain, but they wouldn’t listen. And can you blame them? He betrayed their loyalty, and he couldn’t simply return the money and pretend it never happened. They knew it happened and nothing could make up for the breach of trust. No apology or explanation was sufficient. What was done was done and nothing could change that fact. And no matter how hard he tried to make restitution, it was beyond repair.”

  Rain felt everything fade from her peripheral vision. All she could see were Paul’s eyes boring into hers as he talked. It was just the two of them alone, isolated from everyone and everything else. And for a moment, nothing else seemed to exist.

  “You might break a porcelain vase and glue it back together,” Paul continued. “But how can you repair a trust that’s been broken? That’s what Frank is asking himself repeatedly, Brenda. But for now, all he can do is wait and hope that in time he can be forgiven.”

  The camera cut back to Brenda Dickson, who had her mouth wide open and a puzzled expression on her face. “Ah, thanks, Paul.” She cleared her throat and forced a smile. “That was KNEX-TV’s Paul Blakely.”

  The news continued in another direction and Charlie lost interest. “I liked seeing Paul,” he said enthusiastically. “Can we go sailing with him again sometime? Maybe I can steer the boat again and have a good time with everyone. And then I can—” He stopped abruptly and stared vacantly ahead.

  Rain looked at him curiously. “Charlie, what is it?” When he didn’t answer, she asked him again.

  He seemed to come back from a long ways away, and he scratched his head in perplexity. “Rain, who was the young woman with us when we went sailing and I got to steer the boat?”

  “Do you mean Pricilla, Paul’s mother?”

  “No, the young woman.”

  Rain cocked her head and looked at him quizzically. “Do you mean me?”

  He shook his head impatiently. “The other young woman.”

  “There wasn’t another young woman, Charlie.”

  “But I remember. She was pretty and she had long, blond hair and it kept blowing across her face.”

  “You must be thinking of someone else. There were only the five of us.”

  He scratched his head a moment longer and then shrugged. “I’m going to go to my room and try to remember, Rain. When you see Paul, tell him to take us sailing again, okay?”

  Rain gave a perfunctory nod and watched him go into his bedroom. Obviously, seeing Paul again had excited him, but it also had confused him. Charlie tended to mix things up in his mind when he got over-stimulated. He’d be all right after a good night’s sleep.

  Rain sat on the couch and tried to process her feelings of watching Paul on TV. She had seen him on the evening news on several occasions since they’d started dating, and before now it had always been the next best thing to having him beside her and holding her in his arms. She used to love to listen to the lilt of his voice and hear the inflection in his words.

  But now it was anything but comforting. Seeing him again was harder than she had anticipated, and the inner battle she had been fighting for two weeks intensified.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about what Paul had just said in his news report. His words pulsed before her eyes like they were written on flash cards. A position of trust . . . disregarded feelings and circumstances . . . his own personal agenda . . . didn’t start out intending to do any harm . . . no apology or explanation was sufficient . . . all he can do is wait and hope that in time he can be forgiven.

  Was she reading too much into his words, seeking for a message that wasn’t actually there? For a moment her heart began to soften, but then she remembered discovering his research notes, and the feelings of hurt and anger returned.

  Her memories switched back and forth in alternating currents of energy, and the process began to take its toll. It was draining to try and come to terms with the conflict between her head and her heart.

  Her eyes began to grow heavy and her thoughts became jumbled. Soon she wasn’t making any sense at all, even to herself, and she laid her head back on the couch, unwilling to fight the exhaustion any longer. She drifted away and found herself sitting at a dimly lit table in an elegant restaurant. She held a glass of red wine and was in the middle of a long, pleasant conversation. Soft music played in the background, and the atmosphere was warm and intimate. She lost all track of time. At length, she paused to take a sip of her wine. When she lowered her glass and looked across the table to resume the conversation, there was no one there.

  She awoke with a start and looked around the room, trying to get her bearings. Glancing at her watch, she noticed that it was past eleven. She chastised herself for falling asleep on the couch. Whenever she took an evening nap, she paid a price for it and wasn’t able to go back to sleep for a long while.

  She got up and stretched the kink out of her back. As she turned toward her bedroom, she noticed the glow of the lamp beside her bed. She didn’t remember turning the lamp on. Shrugging, she paused to check the kitchen and bathroom for the night and then headed into her room.

  Her eyes went directly to the bed. The shoebox was sitting on the bedspread, with the lid off. An instinctive flash of anger shot through her. Charlie had been in her room without permission again, snooping around.

  As she went to put the box away, she noticed a picture sitting on the bedspread. It was the one she had looked at the day they went sailing. The picture of Charlie standing at the tiller, looking confident and proud. As she picked it up and examined it more closely, she noticed people sitting in the background, to the right of Charlie. They were laughing and obviously having a good time. One of them in particular caught Rain’s attention. It was a young woman who was sitting nearest to Charlie. She was smiling at the camera and waving with one hand and brushing the hair out of her face with the other.

  Rain grabbed a magnifying lens from the night table drawer and studied the picture more carefully. The gooseflesh rose on her arms when she recognized the young woman. It was her mother!

  Unable to contain herself, she dropped the picture and the magnifying lens and hurried toward Charlie’s room. If he was still awake she needed to ask him about the picture to see what he remembered. This could be a breakthrough! She wouldn�
��t confront him about it. She would keep the chastisement out of her voice so he didn’t become defensive. It would do no good to back him into a corner and expect him to think clearly.

  Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she opened Charlie’s bedroom door and stepped into the room. Stopping abruptly, she gasped in astonishment and both hands shot to her chest.

  Charlie was not there.

  CHAPTER 37

  The ringing was coming from far away, directionless but distinct, and Paul rolled over and tried to ignore it. But when it persisted, he pried one eye open and glanced at the clock. 12:16 A.M.

  He was used to receiving telephone calls alerting him to newsworthy items, but they normally didn’t come after midnight. This had better be one hot tip!

  He fumbled with his iPhone while trying to clear the fog from his brain. “Hello?” he said, keeping just enough drowsiness in his voice to let the caller know that he had been asleep.

  “Paul, I need help!”

  He recognized the voice instantly, and the tone in the plaintive cry drove the remaining sleep from his eyes. “Rain, what’s wrong?” He had waited weeks to hear her voice, but this is not what he had expected.

  Her words came as rapidly as though fired from an assault rifle, and he had a difficult time making sense of them.

  “I didn’t know who else to call besides Maria. It’s late and I didn’t want to disturb you. I haven’t talked to you in weeks, I realize. I thought of calling the police, but they won’t know how to handle him. Maria is coming over, but we need help looking for Charlie. I don’t know—”

  “Rain,” Paul said, interrupting her. “Rain, listen to me. Take a deep breath and calm down. I can’t understand what you’re saying. Now start again and tell me what’s going on.”

  He heard Rain draw in a deep breath and let it out sharply.

  “Charlie’s gone!”

  “What do you mean he’s gone?”

  “I fell asleep on the couch, and when I woke up, Charlie wasn’t in his room. He’s gone, Paul, and I don’t know where he is. I’ve hunted up and down the street; I even checked the alley. There’s no sign of him.”

  Paul was already struggling into his pants. “I’m on my way, Rain. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Don’t leave until I get there, okay?”

  “Okay. Hurry.”

  He was out of the door in two minutes and roaring down the street in four. He ran two red lights and caused the tires to squeal when he took the corners.

  During the drive he worried about Charlie, but he also thought about what he was going to say to Rain. What would his opening words to her be? Naturally, there had to be some breaking of the ice before the two of them could start their search together. They couldn’t pretend nothing had happened between them. Should he launch into another round of apologies and attempt to explain things one more time? Should he express how much he missed her—ached for her, in fact—and that he hadn’t contacted her, although he desperately wanted to, because he had promised to give her time and space?

  These questions raced through his mind as he reached her apartment in fourteen minutes flat. They continued to resonate as he rang her buzzer and raced up the stairs and knocked on her door.

  He heard the sound of approaching footsteps. His heart pounded against his ribs because he still didn’t know what he was going to say.

  The door flew open as if it had been blown off its hinges, and before he could say anything, Rain had her arms around him and her face pressed against his chest.

  He stood still for a moment, startled. And then he returned her embrace and pressed his cheek against the top of her head. The pain and loneliness of the past two weeks melted away in that instant, and everything he had hoped to say or to hear was expressed in their embrace.

  They held one another for a long moment, their hearts beating in unison, and then they both began speaking at once. Their words entwined around one another and formed a single braid that bound them together, uniting them in love and purpose.

  The moment ended when the buzzer sounded, indicating that Maria had arrived. She appeared in the room seconds later, in a flurry. Her hair looked like it had been given only a quick brush and she wore no makeup. She went directly to Rain and gave her a consoling hug, and then extended a hand to Paul and drew him into their circle.

  “I’m sorry it’s under these terrible circumstance,” Maria said, her voice trembling, “but it’s so good to see you back together again.” She gave them a final bear hug, and then released her grip, indicating that it was time to focus on the urgent matter at hand. “Any idea where he might have gone?” she asked.

  Rain slumped her shoulders and shook her head.

  Paul thought for a moment and then asked, “What was your dad doing before you fell asleep on the couch?”

  When Rain stopped short and stared at him, wide-eyed, he realized that he’d said dad and not Charlie. But rather than apologize, he stared back at her evenly, inviting a response.

  “It’s time to move forward, dear,” Maria said, stroking Rain’s arm.

  Rain nodded solemnly. “Charl—my dad—was asking about the young woman who was brushing the hair from her face when they went sailing.”

  Paul and Maria exchanged a look of puzzlement.

  Rain hurried into the bedroom and returned with the photograph. “This is my dad as a young man. And this”—she pointed to the young woman seated nearest to him—“is my mom.”

  “Linda,” Paul stated.

  “Yes. My dad was asking about her today. I think he remembered something.”

  “His relationship to her?” Maria asked hopefully.

  “I don’t know. He was quite confused about things this evening.”

  Paul turned away in thought for a moment. “Maybe he’s trying to find this sailboat. You know, to reconnect with the past. If so, he might be headed down to the waterfront.”

  “Or he might have remembered something about our family home and is trying to get to Tacoma,” Rain said. “I don’t even know where we should start looking.”

  Paul took out his iPhone and went to the Maps icon. Entering Rain’s address into the search bar, he zoomed in on her neighborhood. “Show me where you’ve already checked.”

  Rain studied the map and then pointed to several streets and avenues.

  “That’s a two-square-block area,” Maria noted.

  “We need to expand our search,” Paul said. He snapped his fingers as an idea occurred to him. “Do you have a recent photograph of Charlie?”

  Rain nodded.

  “Grab it and let’s head for the car.”

  As Rain disappeared into the bedroom, Paul reached in his pocket and pulled out a business card. “Maria, take this and wait here in case Charlie returns. If he does, call me on my cell.”

  “Okay. But if he’s not back by morning, I’m calling the police.”

  “Understood.”

  Rain returned with a picture of Charlie moments later. She hugged Maria anxiously and then followed Paul out of the door. “By the way,” she asked, as they descended the stairs, “what’s my dad’s picture for?”

  “We’re going to use the greatest resource we have at our disposal right now,” he replied, glancing back at her over his shoulder.

  “And that is?”

  “Seattle’s homeless.”

  * * * * *

  Olympic Sculpture Park, so named for the twenty-two sculptures that were featured throughout, was a nine-acre green strip located along the waterfront. When Rain and Paul arrived at the east entrance, they left the car in the parking area and proceeded on foot.

  Two men were seated ahead on a bench under a lamppost. They were laughing and drinking from a bottle in a brown paper bag. They had shaggy beards and long, unkempt hair, and Rain’s first impulse was to invite them to Welcoming Hands. But she realized that not everyone was comfortable at a shelter. Many preferred living in the open, under the stars.

  “Excuse me,” Paul said, stopping at
the bench. “We’re looking for this man.” He took the picture from Rain and held it out. “Have you seen him?”

  “What’s it to you?” snipped one of men.

  “The question is, what’s it to you?” Paul pulled a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket and waved it in the air.

  “You the cops?” the other man asked, his eyes locked on the money.

  “Just concerned citizens,” Paul replied. “Have you seen him?”

  “Yeah,” the first man said, reaching for the bill.

  “Not so fast. Tell me what he was wearing. This”—he pointed to Rain—“is his daughter, so she’ll know if you’re telling the truth.”

  “His daughter?” the first man said, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

  “I’ll ask the questions,” Paul said firmly.

  The man shrugged. “Have it your way. He was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of shorts.”

  “Was not,” the other man said quickly. “He was wearing a hoodie and jeans.”

  “What color were his socks?” Rain asked, narrowing her gaze.

  “Who cares?” the first man muttered.

  “Brown,” answered the other man.

  Rain looked at Paul and shook her head.

  “Have a nice evening, guys,” Paul said, pocketing the money.

  The first man got to his feet. “I meant to say: a sweatshirt and a pair of jogging pants.”

  Paul scowled and led Rain further into the park, while the two men continued arguing with one another.

  During the next hour, Rain and Paul approached every homeless person in the east and north ends of the park, with the same results. According to reports, Charlie was wearing everything from a winter coat to a Speedo and had been seen in five different locations.

  Rain found it disheartening to hear the inconsistencies. But then she worked at a homeless shelter and knew the lengths many people would go for a quick handout.

  Her fears began to torment her. It was two in the morning and Maria hadn’t called yet, which meant that Charlie was still out there—alone, hungry, and probably scared. He was trusting and anyone could easily take advantage of him. A thousand scenarios went through her mind, each one growing proportionately worse in its final outcome.