In the Image of Grace

by Charlotte Ann Schlobohm

  “No, that’s stuff I need to know. What about other women carrying and birthing us.”

  “All your dad needed was some of your mom cells and then he would have kinda grown them or something and then get an unfertilized egg n take out the nucleus n stick in the cloned cells and then he could implant it in a surrogate.”

  “Jesus, we have to find our mother’s family or someone who knew her or something.”

  ………………………………………………………

  Isabelle, Clarissa, Jeremy and I all sat on Jeremy’s bedroom floor. We all went to his apartment after school, so we could try to find at least relatives of our mother or something, anything. His room was a mess. Almost every one of his dresser drawers were open with stuff hanging out. There were random objects spread all over the carpet; shoes, books, an old thermos, an empty cereal box. It looked like a good way to live to me. I sat leaning up against his bed with a thick city phone book on my lap. We were looking up any Fernando’s that we could find. We planned to call every Fernando we found and we weren’t too sure exactly what we were going to say, but it was probably going to be something like, “Excuse me are you related to Grace Fernando.” Clarissa had a thinner suburban phone book in front of her on the carpet and Isabelle lay next to her on her stomach with a note pad. Jeremy sat crossed leg next to me with a laptop in his lap. We were armed with his cell phone and his mom’s house phone.

  “You sure this is okay?” I asked. I was worried when his mom would get the phone bill next month there’d be all these calls to different Fernando’s. I didn’t want him to get in trouble

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “So we just go through our lists here and mark down if they answered or not or if they just hung up,” I told them.

  “Sounds good,” Isabelle agreed.

  “What should I say?” Clarissa asked. She was going to be doing the calling on his cell phone and Isabelle was going to be marking down who answered and so on and so forth. I was going to be doing the calling on Jeremy’s house phone and he was doing the note taking. He was cross checking online to see if there were any Fernandos on there and not the phone book. There always was the possibility her relatives were unlisted, but we figured it was worth the shot.

  “Something like, I was trying to reach Grace Fernando, maybe,” I said shrugging my shoulders.

  “All right,” Clarissa replied shrugging right back.

  So we started calling. I started with the very first Fernando in the phone book. The phone just rang and rang. I just hung up after a while. “I wonder if we should leave a message.”

  “Go ahead if you want. Just give them my cell number,” Jeremy told me.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Nobody,” Clarissa said about her phone call.

  “You know,” I pondered. “Lots of people don’t have house phones anymore.”

  “Stop being such a downer,” Clarissa said. “Just keep calling.

  So that’s what we did. We continued to call one Fernando after another. The ones that did answer said either, “Sorry, you have the wrong number,” or “No, we don’t know a Grace.” Jeremy and I called sixty-seven different Fernando families. Isabelle and Clarissa called thirty-four from the suburban phone book and nine that were online and not in either phone book. It was on call sixty-eight when I actually got something.

  A man answered the phone. “Hello.”

  “Hello,” I said. “I was wondering if you could tell me if you know Grace Fernando.”

  “Is this some kind of joke? Who are you? What do you want?”

  I didn’t respond, all of a sudden I didn’t know what to say. Isabelle sat up and Clarissa scooted in closer. They could tell I had something.

  “Speak,” Clarissa whispered to me.

  “Um, I was looking for Grace.”

  “Why? Why now?” They guy asked real quick and snippy.

  “I’m her daughter,” I said very slowly, so I wouldn’t startle the guy on the phone with my news. The next thing I heard was the dial tone. He hung up on me. I put down the phone.

  “What?” Clarissa asked.

  “He hung up on me. He knows her.”

  “How do you know?”Asked Isabelle.

  “He asked me why and why now. Should I call back?”

  We all just kind of looked at each other.

  “I’m going to,” I said hitting redial on the phone. I listened to the phone ring and ring and I was about to hang up when the guy picked up.

  “Hello,” he said wearily.

  “Hi,” I responded. “I’m not joking.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want to know about my mother.”

  “I haven’t heard from her in years.”

  “About seventeen?”

  “How do you know she’s your mother? Are you looking for money?”

  “No, answers,” I said.

  “Why now?”

  “I just found out she was my mother. I’m looking for her.”

  “I don’t know where she is.”

  “Can you tell me about her?”

  “Look kid, I don’t know if this is for real or what, but I’m going to hang up now.”

  “No,” I shouted.

  “Look honey, I can’t help you.”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “No, no you don’t.”

  “My sisters and I,” I started saying.

  “No, you have the wrong person. If she actually had a daughter there’d only be one.”

  “There were four of us. She only knew about the one.”

  “I don’t know why you’re messing with me here.”

  “Sir, if you met us you’d understand.”

  “No,” the guy replied.

  “Well,” I said. “We’ll just come to your house. We have your address right here.”

  I heard the guy take a deep breath.

  “Tomorrow, around one.” He then hung up.

  “Oh my God, he said tomorrow at one. We go meet him tomorrow,” I told everybody.

  “That’s good,” Jeremy said.

  “Yes, should we really go?” I asked Jeremy and my sisters.

  “Hello, yes,” Clarissa said.

  “What if he’s,” I started to say.

  Then we heard, “Jeremy,” and then again louder, “Jeremy!”

  “What,” he screamed. “My mom,” he then said to us.

  “Get your ass in here,” his mother yelled back.

  “I’ll be right back,” he mumbled getting up.

  “We should be going anyways,” I said getting up with him. We were all getting up to leave when his mom showed up in his doorway.

  She looked at Jeremy and then she looked at Clarissa, Isabelle and me. “Why do you have three girls in your room?”

  “Working on something for school,” he answered shrugging.

  “I don’t want any funny business going on,” she ordered pointing at him with a long red polished finger nail. She scanned my sisters and me. Her eyes slowly went up and down me and then across to Clarissa and Isabelle. “Triplets,” she said like a statement and not a question.

  “Actually, no,” I answered. “We’re all a year apart.”

  His mom made a humphing noise. “Make sure you take out the trash before you leave tonight. I’m going over to Gayle’s now.”

  “All right,” Jeremy replied pushing his hair out of his face.

  His mom left and the four of us stood in his room. “My mom doesn’t have the best social skills.”

  We all slipped on our coats, gathered our bags, left his room and walked to the front door. Clarissa and Isabelle already walked out and Jeremy grabbed my hand. “Hey,” he said. “If you think you can slip out tonight I’m doing this thing at this place called Subsurface, if ya wanna come, it’s like this all ages thing. Maybe it’ll help get your mind off stuff for a while.”

  “Sure, what time?”

  “Eight, just tell whoever’s at the door that I gave you
the okay.”

  “Okay,” I said with a kiss goodbye. I walked down the steps and gave a wave.

  Clarissa and Isabelle were outside waiting on the sidewalk. Clarissa gave me a big grin. “You two are so cute,” she squealed

  “Do you think I could go out tonight?”

  “Yah, who’s gonna notice. You have the key. I’ll make sure the alarm is not set,” Clarissa reassured me.

  “Do you to want to come?”

  “I’m sure the invitation is just for you,” Isabelle affirmed.

  The three of us walked down the sidewalk to the bus stop.

  “So, we’re going tomorrow?” I asked still unsure.

  “Yeah,” Clarissa said like it was the obvious answer.

  “What if he’s just some weirdo?”

  “What are the chances of him being some weirdo and also knowing that she’s missing,” Isabelle said adjusting her backpack.

  “I guess,” I sighed looking at all the brick apartment buildings as we walked and at all the tall full grown trees that lined the sidewalk. The trees blocked any chance of sun peeping through between them and the apartment buildings. We got to the end of the block, crossed the street at the light, and waited for the bus.

  Chapter Ten

  I got off the EL and walked down the wooden stairs and through the turnstile out onto the sidewalk. I looked in both directions and went left because to the right it looked more residential. To my left I saw a busy intersection with cars and people going through it. There were little shops lining the street, with a place called Crash Taco and a coffee shop where inside it looked like they were having an author’s reading. A woman with frizzy hair sat on a stool with what looked like could have been a manuscript in her hand and everybody was sitting around intently looking at her. Across the intersection there was a building with large paintings of what looked like feet in the windows. I walked down to the main intersection and looked up at the little green street signs. I found the street I needed and turned left again. I didn’t have to walk far to see where I had to go. Attached to a white building was a long, length wise sign that read Subsurface. There was also a line of people along the buildings in front of it. I assumed it was the line I needed to be in, so I went and stood in back of the last person.

  The line was teenagers and people in their twenties. There was quiet a collection of people. There was shaggy hair, spiky hair, green hair, black hair with bleached streaks, there was various piercings and tattoos on some, there were corduroys and jeans and workpants and skirts over pants. There were tall guys and skinny girls and girls that could easily beat you up and guys the girls could have easily beat up. They were wearing Buck Baylors and combat boots and tall boots and Docs and Mary Janes. They were covered in small black jackets, jackets with super fuzzy hoods, work jackets and no jackets and just sweaters. There was people with beards and bad skin and some with super skin, some with too much makeup, others none. I found the variety of people fascinating. I had the slightest idea if I fit in. I wore my Buck Baylor’s with jeans and a gray tee-shirt all under my brown jacket. I might have looked too clean. My shoes weren’t even dirty.

  On the sidewalk passer-bys stared at everybody in line; couples out for a stroll, others on their way to the noodle shop, yuppies in khakis. The air was crisp and the sky was clear. I blew out my breath and saw it hang in the air. The line quickly moved forward. I got to the front and there was a bald guy with large black glasses at the door.

  “I was told to tell you that I have the okay.”

  The guy just kind of looked at me.

  “To get in,” I said. I wasn’t sure if he knew what I was talking about.

  “I know,” he said. “Give me your hand.”

  I gave it, my hand to him and he stamped it. A fluorescent yellow monkey face looked back at me.

  “Go on,” he said waving me in.

  Once inside it was dark. I almost needed night vision goggles. There were people all standing and mingling about. Small tables were sporadically placed about with kids and their drinks at them. A long cushiony booth like thing ran the length of the wall and next to that was a set of stairs. In the back was the bar and since it was an all ages show, the place for me to get a pop. I pulled off my hat and shoved it in my coat pocket and slid my coat off and draped it over my arm. I wasn’t quite sure what to do, so I found a little empty table that went around a pole and leant up against it. I was supposing you stood around until something happened, but I wasn’t too sure what that something was. Music was playing in the background and everybody was talking, but it wasn’t too loud. I recognized a couple people I’d seen in the hall at school. One was the girl with unfortunate skin that was in my division. She was with a guy who wore a once piece blue jumpsuit, an interesting choice of apparel for going out. I was going to go over and say hi, but I decided that if she saw me and wanted to talk to me she would come over. Near me were a couple of girls who were dressed like they were from a 1950’s sitcom. They had on rolled up jeans, with white collared shirts and their hair in these little bouncy ponytails. The one girl had a kerchief wrapped around her head. They were having a conversation about the musician whose music was playing in the background at the moment. The one girl said she was going to go to Omaha, Nebraska to be in his presence, so she could absorb the music and the other girl informed her that he had moved to New York. No, he moved back the other one said and that was the end of that. I didn’t know who it was they were talking about, but I did like the music.

  After a while of standing around and eavesdropping on people everybody somehow knew it was time to go upstairs. Jeremy didn’t really tell me what his thing was that he had going on, but I was assuming it had to do with music. I wasn’t too sure if he was in a band or did the sound or something. I followed everybody up the narrow staircase and we entered a place that was long, narrow and painted black. I found a chair in the back to throw my jacket onto. I took my wallet out of my coat pocket and slipped it into my back jeans pocket. If somebody felt the need to pick pocket me they wouldn’t have been getting much.

  Once again everybody milled around in little groups. There weren’t that many different people alone. I kind of felt odd having nobody to chit chat with, but I didn’t mind because there was so much to take in. Some people walked out a door onto the stage and some people clapped and others moved closer to the stage that was at the other end of the room. The stage was wall to wall and wasn’t that high off the ground. Three guys were up there tweaking around with all the equipment and instruments, one of them being Jeremy. He strapped on a guitar and started turning the tuning pegs on it. After he’d turn a peg he’d strum the guitar until it sounded right. His hair hung in his face as he concentrated. Another guy was at the drums, but went over to the microphone and started testing it. He was rather short, probably only a couple inches taller than me and I was around 5’3.

  “Uh, testing,” he said. A few people hooted in response.

  There was a third guy doing something with the amplifiers. He was turning knobs and stuff. He was probably almost as tall as Jeremy. I realized he was the guy that came up to us earlier in the day, the one that looked like he played sports. He had on a tee-shirt that was kind of tight and if he didn’t play sports he at least had to of worked out. They walked around the stage a little longer checking the equipment and instruments. I stood in the back watching them. Jeremy seemed busy, so I let him do what he had to do.

  After a bit they were all in place. The short guy at the drums, tight tee-shirt guy was armed with a bass and Jeremy was strapped with an electric guitar with the mic in front of him. I squeezed my way up to the front. He saw me and smiled and said, “Hi.”

  The audience said hi back.

  “Oh no, I wasn’t saying hi to you all.”

  Everybody laughed.

  “I was saying hi to my,” he cut himself off. “Oh, let’s just get started.”

  People clapped and cheered and with that there was a surge of people to the front. All
of a sudden I was enclosed in bodies.

  “Hi for real this time, we’re Final Resolution.” Everyone hooted, hollered and whistled again. “This one’s for Charlotte.” Jeremy smiled and they went straight into playing.

  The audience then started to move. Some were jumping around. Others were bouncing and bopping and some were head bobbing. I tried to just stand in place and watch, but due to the movement of the others, I was forced to sway with the ocean. I didn’t mind. At first I felt a little self conscious, but then I just chose to ignore everybody and listened to the music. I started moving with it. It felt all right. I let everything else slip away for a few brief minutes and just went with the flow. I listened to Jeremy’s voice. It was soothing and melodic. The music was fast and only consisted of several chords, but it made me feel good. I had never heard anything like it. Since I spent most my life inside my house I had never been exposed to a lot of music. All we ever really got to listen to was classical and disco, pretty much what was in our father’s collection. The first song ended and they went right into another.

  For the second song I just kind of watched Jeremy. His glasses kept sliding down to the tip of his nose. He’d occasionally shake his head and twitch his nose to get them back in place. He played his guitar the whole time he sang. I noticed that he would kind of stand on the outside of his feet and shrug up his shoulders and shake the hair out of his face when the timing seemed right. After a few songs he started to sweat a lot and half way through one he took off his glasses and set them on the ground at the front of the stage. He then continued right on. After the song where Jeremy took off his glasses I could feel somebody up real close behind. I felt hot breath on my neck. I turned and looked. There was this guy with limp greasy hair and a flannel shirt smiling crazily at me. I could tell he was in some sort of altered state. I tried to move over a little, squishing through a small horde of girls that appeared to be swooning and greasy guy just followed me. When I stopped he stopped right on top on me. I could feel his body parts pressing into my back side. I found it to be quite disturbing.