Pearl

by Weisman, C. E.

  They walked through the kitchen and out the living room to the front door. Pearl stopped as they reached the entrance, tugging her hand back, but her mother held her strongly in a firm grip.

  “Don’t be scared,” her mother soothed.

  Pearl’s eyes widened as her mother opened the door.

  Outside, the crisp Arizona air stung Pearl’s bare legs as the wind picked up her lavender nightgown. She held on tightly to her mother’s hand as they ran from the house toward the middle of the field. Her mother squealed in delight, her white nightgown twisting in the soft breeze.

  “Isn’t this beautiful, Pearl?” her mother cried out, stopping only to twirl her daughter as though they fell into a rhythmic dance. “I couldn’t wait to show you this night. Look at the moon, Pearl! Do you see it?”

  Pearl looked up to see the round succulent moon shining so bright it blinded her eyes.

  “Do you remember, darling? Do you remember how we used to sneak out here when the world was asleep and count the stars?”

  Pearl caught her breath as the memory came flooding back.

  “We would sing to the moon—do you remember, Pearl?”

  Pearl’s eyes filled with tears as she nodded. “I remember, Mama.”

  Her mother dropped Pearl’s hand, stopping the dance. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, her face pointed at the sky.

  “Just you and me,” she breathed.

  Pearl closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath. Her iridescent skin glowed in the soft moonlight. She smiled softly. The wind picked up, swirling her hair in a wild flurry. She brushed it back away from her face, then opened her eyes to see only black. She spun around, searching for her mother in the dark. Where was the light? Where was the moon? Where was her mother?

  “Mama!” she cried out.

  Arms wrapped around her, easing her fright. “I’m right here,” her mother soothed.

  The glow of her mother’s hair was all Pearl could see. But she felt her warm skin, and smelled the sweet honey scent that Pearl had a hard time recalling. She rested her head on her mother’s shoulder. She was a child again, needing her mother’s comfort.

  “Where did you go?” Pearl asked.

  “I’m here,” her mother responded.

  “Why did you leave me?”

  The screech of the front door jerked Pearl to a standing position. She looked at her mother but couldn’t see her face. Her warm comforting arms were now tight and frigid. She felt her mother pull from her grasp, but Pearl clung to her, grasping at her mother’s nightgown. Her mother slipped from her fingers as though she had turned to air.

  “No, Mama!” Pearl cried. “Don’t leave me—please don’t leave me!”

  “Shh.” Her mother’s face appeared before her again, bright as though the moon had reappeared. Her mother lifted a hand to her daughter’s face.

  “It’s all right,” she said. She looked up at the house. Footsteps trudged along the rock. Pearl couldn’t see anyone, only a shadow of a figure coming toward them.

  “You must forgive him,” her mother said. Pearl looked back to see her mother’s solemn expression.

  “Roy?” Pearl asked.

  Her mother shook her head. She took one last look at the house before spinning away. Pearl’s lips quivered as she fought her tears. She watched her mother glide near the road, her blonde hair disappearing as she curved around the bend. Pearl squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to evaporate into the air before the next moment arose. It was too late. The dreadful noise sounded, slowly first, before turning into an earth-shattering squeal. Pearl fell to her knees, her skin tearing from the hard ground and jagged rocks. She covered her ears to drown out the sound, but it only increased, louder and louder until she could feel it in her belly down to her bones. She reached into the core of her body, pulling all her strength into her lungs to suck the air in deep, and screamed.

  CHAPTER 22

  The alluring melody of her mother’s voice broke through Pearl’s nightmarish screams. She thrashed her head back and forth as sweaty hair stuck to her face. She fought the sound and tried to wake herself from the nightmare, but when her eyes opened, she realized the purr of her mother singing was still with her.

  She opened her eyes, taking in the warm light and buttermilk scent mixed with Virginia Slim cigarettes, and knew instantly that she was at Vernie’s. She pushed the sweat-soaked strands from her face and took in the scene around her. She was alone in the living room on the couch, although she could hear the whispers of Vernie mixed with her mother’s voice.

  “Mom?” Pearl called out softly.

  Vernie stuck her head out from behind the kitchen doorway.

  “Oh, dear, did we wake you?”

  Pearl took a hesitant breath as she sat up, the blanket falling from her shoulders to her lap. “Is my mom in there with you?”

  Vernie’s eyes furrowed with concern. “Your mama? No, sweet Pearl, it’s just Darren and me in the kitchen.”

  Pearl closed her eyes, listening closely as her mother’s voice became stronger. The strum of the guitar and familiar beat of the song brought Pearl back to reality. She sighed.

  “Oh, it’s just my mom…” She opened her eyes and looked sheepishly at Vernie. “I thought she was here but…”

  “Here?” Vernie came to her side on the couch and rested a gentle hand on Pearl’s forehead. “Pearl, dear, you’ve had an awful hard night. Why don’t you go lie in my room?”

  Pearl shook her head. “No, it’s not that.” She bit her lip. “You’re playing my mother’s record.”

  Vernie gasped. “This is your mama?”

  Pearl nodded her head.

  Vernie clapped her hands together. She squealed in delight as she called out for Darren. He popped his head around the corner, his gun nestled casually in his hand.

  “Darren, you are never going to believe this!” Vernie kicked her heels off the floor as she laughed. “This is Pearl’s mother!”

  Darren looked confused, as though Pearl’s mother should be sitting on the love seat in the living room.

  “On my record player!” Vernie said proudly. She turned to Pearl when she didn’t get the reaction from Darren she was looking for. “Why didn’t you tell me your mama was Joni Mitchell? She is one of my all-time favorites!”

  Pearl’s eyes widened at the name. “Who?”

  Vernie slapped Pearl’s knee. “Joni Mitchell!” She sighed. “Imagine that talent running through your veins.”

  Pearl’s gaze darted from a puzzled Darren to an overjoyed Vernie.

  “I don’t know that name,” Pearl admitted.

  Vernie stopped her giggling and thought for a moment. “Hmm, that is strange.” She snapped her chubby fingers. “Oh! I wonder if she goes by another name—you know, for privacy.”

  Pearl shrugged. It was always a possibility. The only CD she had of her mother’s was the blank covered copy her father had given her.

  Vernie’s creased brow returned as she thought harder. “How long has your mama been making music?”

  “About eight years, or I guess nine by now.” Pearl’s tone trembled at Vernie’s concerned look.

  Darren caught Vernie’s eye and crept back into the kitchen.

  “What?” Pearl asked.

  Vernie turned her plump body to Pearl. Reaching for her hand, she sat there silently and caressed the burn marks on Pearl’s wrist.

  “What?” Pearl said, an edge to her tone.

  “Precious Pearl, this can’t be your mama,” Vernie said

  Pearl pulled her hand away. “What do you mean?”

  Vernie entwined her fidgety fingers together. “Joni Mitchell has been singing since I was in school.” She paused for Pearl to take that in. “Dear, I’m sure your mama wasn’t even born yet.”

  Pearl sat back and listened to the hum of her mother singing. It was a song she had relied on for the toughest of days. It could bring her out of any dark spell. She wished for the magic of her mother’s voice to work now.

&nb
sp; “You’re wrong,” Pearl said, her voice no stronger than a whisper.

  Vernie sat quietly, not wanting to argue with Pearl. “You’ve had a hard day.”

  “You’re wrong!” Pearl said, the anger reaching the tip of her tongue.

  Vernie rested her hand on Pearl’s knee. “We can talk about this tomorrow. Why don’t you get some rest?”

  “Rest?” Pearl asked. “How can I rest? You are trying to tell me that the voice I have listened to, cried to, spoken to for the last eight years is not my mother’s?”

  “I’m sorry,” Vernie said sadly.

  “You don’t know,” Pearl said snidely.

  Vernie flinched at Pearl’s tone. She was not used to her sweet Pearl speaking so harshly. “You’re right, I don’t. But there is a way for us to find out.”

  Pearl crossed her arms over her chest. She sat up tall, fighting the tears from falling.

  “I have the record,” Vernie said slowly. “It has her picture on the front. Would you like to see?”

  Pearl’s eyes widened. She nodded, now afraid of the outcome.

  Vernie stood from the couch and crossed the room. She reached for a record cover, pausing in her step to stare at it. Her back to the couch, she hesitated, her fingers trembling, before handing it to Pearl.

  Pearl took the album. A woman’s face graced the cover, her light hair tinged in a blue shadow. Her face was half covered, but Pearl knew. There was no way to mistake this stranger’s face for her mother’s.

  Pearl let out a wounded howl as she threw the album cover across the room.

  Vernie was at her side, but Pearl thrashed herself away from Vernie’s hold. She sobbed as the realization broke through. The voice, the melody, the songs she had held so close to her heart all these years were nothing but a sham.

  “Pearl, listen, stop,” Vernie pressed, her tears rolling down her face.

  “Get away from me!” Pearl screamed. She jumped off the couch, spinning herself in circles until her eyes found the front door.

  “Don’t go!” Vernie cried out. “I’m so sorry, Pearl, I’m so sorry!” She cursed herself. “I should have never said anything.”

  Pearl gasped for air, her hand over her chest as she felt her heart pound. Her ears rang; her mind screamed in rage and agony. She couldn’t hear a thing but her mother’s velvet tone, the voice that she now knew was not her mother’s.

  “I have to get out of here,” she said, heading for the door. She grabbed her shoes and stumbled out onto the porch, Vernie quick on her heels behind her.

  “No, Pearl, please, stay. It’s late. You need to rest.” She grasped at Pearl’s arm, and the girl whipped around. Her eyes burned as she glared at Vernie.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  Vernie flinched, her hand darting to her side. “Where are you going?”

  Pearl didn’t answer. Truth was, she didn’t know. She walked down the steps.

  “You can’t go home,” Vernie said, her eyes wild in fright.

  Pearl paused at the bottom of the porch, her feet touching gravel. She knew Vernie meant the trailer, but Pearl had another place in mind.

  “Yes, home. I need to go home.”

  Vernie understood. “But how?”

  Pearl shrugged. “I’ll hitchhike.”

  “Darren!” Vernie screamed.

  Pearl heard Darren’s boots trudge through the house. She didn’t look back as she stomped down the driveway, her stilettos getting caught in holes. Her rage was boiling over. She couldn’t think straight. She needed to get home, to confront her father, to find her mother. How foolish she felt for believing this secret that they kept from her for over eight years.

  “Darren, help her, please,” Vernie begged. “Don’t let her walk to town.”

  Darren started the truck, the wheels turning on gravel as he drove up beside her on the long driveway.

  Pearl ignored him.

  “Hey Pearl,” he said casually. “Want a ride?”

  She shook her head.

  “Come on now, I’ll take you where you need to go. No questions.”

  She stopped and looked at him. Darren punched the brakes.

  “I swear. Just get in the car before Vernie has my head.”

  Pearl looked back to a distraught Vernie on the porch. Pearl was furious, but she had enough sense to know that her anger was not directed at her sweet friend. She just needed to pass her hurt to someone, and Vernie had been standing in the way.

  She gave in, opening the truck door, and climbed in.

  “Where to?” Darren asked.

  Pearl thought a moment. The destination was home. Back to Arizona. How she would get there, she hadn’t figured out. She was broke, she was cold, and she was hungry. She needed to sleep and decide what her next step would be. She was too upset and stubborn to face Vernie, which left her with only one place to go where she would be safe.

  “Take me to Ben’s house, please.”

  Darren nodded without judgment. “The Murray place? The ones that own the horse stable?”

  Pearl nodded.

  “I’ve done some work with his dad before, went to school with Sam.”

  Pearl sat back, her head tilted toward the window. She watched the farm disappear behind her. The trailer, pitch black beneath the moon’s gaze, fell farther out of sight. Roy’s truck was parked where it had stopped when they came home from Sammie’s wedding. She pictured him asleep, naked on top of the sheets as he always lay. She waited for the jab of guilt to settle in as the trailer faded from sight, but it didn’t. She silently said goodbye to Roy, and to Jumping Creek.

  Pearl was grateful for the quiet as they drove. She could always rely on Darren for a moment of peace for her thoughts. She was running to Ben; she had no misgivings about that. But she knew her heart, and the truth of it told her that being with Ben was right. She would tell Ben of her plan, and she imagined him saying that going home was what she needed to do, and he would be right there beside her. She loved him, but she also needed him. She couldn’t do this without him. He would have to go with her. There was no alternative. They could start over in Arizona, or even find a new place to go, someplace where there was no past, no secrets, and no reminders of what they’d left behind. She could never return to Oregon, and he would understand. But first she would face her father. And Ben would be there to hold her up when she faltered.

  They pulled into the stables. Ben’s truck sat off to the side, idle by the main house. The house was dark, as it was past one in the morning. So was Ben’s house, which sat in the shadows of his parents’ home.

  Darren flipped the lights off on his truck and set it in Park.

  Pearl reached for her doorknob, ready to run.

  Darren grabbed her hand. She flinched as she turned to look at him.

  “Hold on,” he said.

  He stuffed his fingers into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Pearl went to object, but he held up a hand and stopped her.

  “Look, I’m only giving you what I have of Roy’s paycheck,” he said. “You’re still his wife, so I figure you’re at least due that much.”

  Pearl met his outstretched hand and took the folded bills.

  “Thank you,” she said gratefully.

  Darren stared at her. His crystal eyes looked pitch black in the dark.

  “I think you’re brave for what you’re doing,” he said.

  Pearl swallowed hard. “Running isn’t brave.”

  Darren smiled shyly. “I’d run like hell if I could.”

  His soft voice echoed from the silence around them. Pearl looked away, her gaze landing on the stable. “Why haven’t you? What you suffer from Cindy isn’t any better than what I got from Roy.”

  “Kids,” he said simply. “I can’t leave my kids with her. At least now I come home at night to them. If I left her, she would make damn sure I never saw them again.”

  Pearl dropped her gaze. Her heart hurt for Darren. How right he was, and how lucky Pearl was to escape when it was only herse
lf to worry about.

  “But when I say you’re brave, I don’t just mean the running away,” Darren continued.

  Pearl’s head tilted to him, and she watched as he fought to find his words.

  “Pearl, you forget how strong you are. You don’t need a man to take care of you.” Darren held her gaze before looking away. He rested his hands on the steering wheel. “I should go. I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Pearl shook her head, wiping away her tears with the palm of her hand. She took in a deep breath and looked in Ben’s direction. The comfort of his home now seemed shallow. Would she just be running to Ben so she wasn’t alone?

  She placed her hand back on the door handle, her legs swinging out in front of her. Before she jumped from the truck, she tugged her wedding ring off her finger. She turned to Darren and handed it to him. He understood the gesture and nodded.

  “Thank you, Darren.”

  She watched him drive away, waiting until he turned the bend before flipping his lights back on.

  She twirled back to the house. She took a step and stopped. The rumble of the horses’ snores caught her breath, and she spun toward the stables.

  She sneaked down the vacant cool halls, the scent of bitter hay, nourishing oats, and fresh manure bringing a smile to her face. She stopped in front of Molly’s stall. Carefully she lifted the lock and glided the door open. Molly rested on the ground, her head turning slightly toward the sound of Pearl’s arrival. Molly sniffed and huffed, sensing Pearl and settling back to a resting state. Pearl dropped to her knees and knelt beside her. She caressed the horse’s mane and whispered softly to her. How she had missed being in Molly’s presence. Pearl petted the horse’s neck down the curve of her back. She fell into Molly and held her, letting the tears flow as she finally let loose all the hurt and pain she had recently suffered.

  But the pain of what she had endured didn’t measure, didn’t begin to match the heartbreak she knew she must cause.