What She Left for Me

by Tracie Peterson

  “You have to pay taxes if you’re going to be a citizen of the United States of America. That’s the law.” This came from the only outsider who wasn’t in uniform.

  “That’s your law, man. We don’t recognize it.” This came from Ringo.

  “That’s right, dude, we don’t need your laws and your war machines. We’ve got a better way,” Moody added.

  “You potheads. What would you know about war or the law?” another man questioned. “I don’t suppose I care what happens to you, but you’ve got kids here as well.”

  “Our kids are cool, man. There ain’t nothing wrong with them,” Ringo protested. “They know how to love. Your kids only know how to make war and more rules, but your way is dying. Your time is over.”

  “We’ll see about that.” The man in the suit stepped forward. “You’re all in violation of the tax codes. Investigations are going to commence. I will return here in the morning. Meanwhile, the sheriff and his men will see to it that you have no chance to run off and hide.”

  “All we want is to live in peace,” Star announced as she joined her husband. “We just want to live in peace.”

  “Yeah, you pigs need to go back to your mess in the city.”

  “Yeah, get out of here,” several yelled in unison.

  Eleanor trembled at the sound of the next voice.

  “We all need to calm down.”

  Daddy! Would they take him? She moved toward the group, terrified that someone would see her and take her away, yet equally fearful that the officers might leave with her father and she’d never see him again.

  “We’ll give the orders here,” the man in charge said as he came to stand directly in front of her father. “Who are you anyway?”

  “I’m Dr. Allan Templeton.”

  “A doctor? Sure you are, and I’m the mayor of Los Angeles.” The men around him chuckled.

  “I am a doctor, and that fact doesn’t change just because you choose not to believe me. I did my residency in New York City; you’ll have little trouble tracking that down.”

  The sheriff seemed to reconsider. “Then what are you doing out here with these drug freaks? Why have you let your hair grow down to your shoulders? Doctors make good money, but I can’t imagine that’s the case out here—unless you’re making your money illegally.”

  “There’s more to life than making money,” Dad countered.

  “But you need money to stay alive.”

  “There are worse things than death.”

  Eleanor shivered at her father’s words. What could possibly be worse than death?

  “Look, mister, if you are practicing as a doctor out here, you owe taxes on every cent you make.” The man in the suit stepped closer to Eleanor’s father, as if to emphasize his words.

  “I don’t take pay for my practice.”

  “Then how do you exist? Goodwill doesn’t put food on the table or gas in your car.”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  Eleanor watched her father. His calm demeanor seemed to cut through the malice the strangers obviously felt for the commune people. She was proud of him. Proud of the way he stood up for what he believed.

  “Doc, you don’t make a whole lot of sense. But I guess I shouldn’t expect you to—after all, you’re living out here. Probably fried your brain on that LSD and speed.”

  Eleanor’s father kept his voice low and unexcited. “I simply mean that we work the land together, we share things, we offer help where it is needed. I don’t have much use for money.”

  “Even if you work for barter, you have to pay taxes,” the man reiterated.

  “I don’t believe you’re out here without funds. You have to have clothes and bedding,” the sheriff countered. “I don’t suppose medicine comes free either.”

  “It does if you grow it yourself.”

  “You need money for seed.”

  Eleanor’s father shrugged. “We have what we need, when we need it. Look around. Do we look like we’re starving or sick?”

  “You look sick all right. I can hardly stomach the stench. Don’t you people believe in taking a bath? You smell like yesterday’s garbage. And speaking of which, look at the piles around here. It’s worse than the dump. This place will be condemned as soon as the health department gets word of it. If you’re such an intelligent and educated man, why’d you allow this kind of thing?” The man didn’t wait for an answer. “Guess he’s dumber than he looks. Probably practicing some sort of voodoo hippie medicine.”

  Eleanor wanted to rush forward and defend her father. He was a very smart man. Why, he’d saved several people when they’d gotten sick. Sapphira said it was from drug overdoses, but Eleanor didn’t care. Her father had been the one to save them, and that was what mattered. She started to step forward but felt someone take hold of her and pull her back. She looked up. It was Daniel, Sapphira’s father. He put his finger to his lips and Eleanor nodded.

  “Sheriff, I want this entire area quartered off. Round up the people you think you must, but otherwise, just secure them and keep them from leaving. I want to bring in additional people to help us. Maybe even get some national guardsmen.”

  “So they can shoot us?” someone cried out. “Like at Kent State?”

  “Guess they hear the news occasionally. Probably never keep up with it though. Probably know nothing about the moon landing or that Bobby Kennedy got shot down.”

  Eleanor wondered about the comments. Who was Bobby Kennedy? And had there really been some kind of moon landing? She looked up to the full moon overhead. It was too far away to fly to. Why would the man say such a thing?

  “My concern is that this is another Manson family,” the sheriff said in a serious tone. “That Charles Manson and his hippies were no different than this bunch. Said they wanted to make things right in the world—so they murdered innocent people.”

  Eleanor had no idea who Charles Manson was. She looked to Daniel in hopes that he might offer answers, but he merely pushed her back behind him and knelt. “Go home, Ellie. This is like really heavy stuff, and the pigs are probably gonna start something.”

  “But my daddy—” Ellie tried to protest, but Daniel again put his hand to her mouth. His dark brown eyes were pleading with her.

  “Go home before they see you. Hide out. Go now.” He turned her toward home.

  “We aren’t the killers, man. You are,” someone challenged. “You with your guns and your big important titles.”

  Eleanor reluctantly headed toward the house, but her confusion was only mounting at the accusations hurled back and forth by the adults. At the sound of her father’s voice, she stopped and turned. She couldn’t see him, but there was comfort just in hearing his voice.

  “We need to go back to our houses and deal with this in the morning. The daylight will show these men that we’re doing nothing wrong.”

  “You’d best listen to the doc. I’m staking my men at the opening of this field. You’re not to leave the premises.”

  “Stupid pigs.” Eleanor turned back to find her mother had joined her. “They won’t be happy until they make us like them.”

  “Are they going to hurt Daddy?” Eleanor asked.

  Her mother never even looked at her. “If they get the chance—they’ll hurt us all.”

  * * *

  Eleanor paced through the small house until well after midnight. Her mother and father were still talking with the others about the situation. The cops had pulled back to barricade the long road that led into the grassy field where the commune had been living. Eleanor felt her heart pounding rapidly and wished with all her might that she could turn back the hands of time to the days before the first drug raid.

  Why did they have to come now? Why did they have to bother innocent people?

  “Ellie girl, what are you doing up?” her father asked, coming into the kitchen.

  Eleanor hadn’t even heard her folks come home. She ran to her father and jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “Daddy, I
’ve been so scared.”

  “Stupid pigs,” her mother spewed, then turned to light a joint she’d taken from her halter top.

  “Daddy, are they going to take us away? Are they going to hurt us?”

  “No, sweetie. We’re safe enough. We might have to move, but so what? It’s a beautiful country and we’ll be all right.” Her father’s soothing voice and gentle touch reassured Eleanor. She clung to him nevertheless. “Where are your brothers?” he asked.

  “Sleeping. I tried to sleep, but I kept hearing things. I figured they were comin’ after me.” Her voice broke despite her desire to be strong. She buried her face against her father’s neck and cried.

  “It’s all right, Ellie. They aren’t going to hurt you.”

  “Promise?” she asked, pulling away to look in his eyes.

  He smiled. “Of course I promise.”

  She relaxed her hold a bit. “Can I sleep with you and Momma tonight?”

  “Sure you can.” He gave her light frame a bit of a toss in the air and then hugged her close.

  That night, sandwiched between her mother and father, Eleanor finally found herself able to relax. She scooted close to her father and pulled his arm around her as if it were a blanket. They weren’t going to hurt her. Her daddy had promised, and he had never lied to her.

  Ten

  “Are you going to just keep dusting that dresser?” Taffy asked in a way that suggested more amusement than concern.

  Eleanor pulled herself from the memories of the past and looked at the dresser. She didn’t remember even going to work on it, much less how long she’d been there. “Sorry. I guess I was a bit lost in my thoughts.”

  “It happens to me all the time. Only they call it old age,” Taffy said with a laugh. “I think it’s just that when you’re my age, you have far more memories and experiences to consider.”

  Eleanor said nothing. She’d lived through a lifetime of things she’d rather not have to remember. “Well, I believe we’re ready to vacuum,” she said, looking around the room.

  Taffy began stripping the bed. “I’m so excited. Just think of the fun we’ll have with Jana in the house.”

  Eleanor stared at her aunt for a moment. “I don’t know why you think this will be so much fun. Jana will be depressed and angry.”

  “So you won’t have the corner on that market anymore,” Taffy teased.

  Eleanor stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”

  Taffy moved to Eleanor and took the duster from her hands. “You walk around here in a mope half the time. Maybe together the two of you can find a way to be happy.”

  “Taffy, I do not go around moping. I may not be as light-hearted as you are, but that doesn’t mean I’m not happy. If you’d had to bear the sorrows and betrayals I’ve had to bear, you might very well think better of me.”

  Taffy’s wrinkled expression sobered. “Child, I have never thought poorly of you. The things you’ve had to endure were heaped upon you. My sister, God rest her soul, was never able to face the responsibilities of being an adult. It was much easier to use drugs and a rebellious lifestyle to ease her misery. Your father—”

  “Taffy, stop.” Eleanor shook her head. “It does no good to go over and over the details of the past. Some things are better left alone.”

  “Sometimes that’s true, but I can’t help but think Jana will need to talk about what’s happened to her, and we’ll need to listen. There is a difference, you know, between dealing with a problem and simply pretending it never happened.”

  Eleanor felt a sense of annoyance. “Of course I know there’s a difference. I also know it does little good to sit around talking and rambling on and on about the same old troubles.”

  “Do you?” Taffy asked, eyeing her with a raised brow. “I seriously doubt that. You haven’t talked or rambled on since you first came to live with me. If I hadn’t pried information out of you, I’d still be in the dark.”

  Eleanor opened her mouth to reply, but the doorbell sounded and drew Taffy’s attention away from the conversation. “Oh, she’s already here! And we haven’t even vacuumed.”

  “I’ll manage it. Let’s go let her in and then you can entertain her while I finish,” Eleanor said, grateful for the distraction.

  Taffy was already out the door and halfway down the hall before Eleanor could follow. Eleanor always marveled at how well the old woman got around. She suffered a bit from arthritis but otherwise was, as she often pointed out, probably in better shape than Eleanor.

  But Eleanor was grateful for her aunt’s health. When Taffy had pleaded for her to come live with her, Eleanor had been certain the woman knew something devastating about her health. But as the years passed, Eleanor could see that Taffy had simply been lonely and was happy for the companionship.

  The real adjustment had come on Eleanor’s part. As usual. Eleanor had been alone for most of her life. Even when raising Jana, Eleanor had allowed Jana’s father to pay for expensive boarding schools to keep the child out of her hair. Eleanor was adept at handling the solitude; it was interactions with others that stressed her out. She had never learned to find comfort in relationships. To her they were tedious and dangerous. In fact, every person she’d ever cared about had let her down in a big way—with exception to Taffy.

  Taffy threw open the huge oak door, ready to receive Jana, and found Stanley Jacobs instead. Eleanor would have preferred the old man remain next door in his own home, but the eighty-two-year-old had an affection for her aunt that kept him a constant in their life.

  “Taffy, darling. I thought you might want to come with me to Summerfest. It’s been going on all day, and tonight there’s even a dance.”

  “Oh, Stanley, come in, come in. I can’t go to any dance tonight—my niece Jana is coming.”

  “Great-niece,” Eleanor muttered.

  “Yes, yes. She’s my great-niece. The only one I have and she’s due here today,” Taffy said, reaching out to take hold of Stanley. “You will have to come later and meet her. We should probably plan a party to welcome her.”

  “Taffy, the circumstances hardly warrant a party. I’m sure that would only make Jana feel more conspicuous, and she can hardly want that.” Eleanor cringed inwardly at the thought of someone imposing a party in the midst of such tragedy. I would have absolutely died on the spot had someone tried to force that upon me.

  “I suppose we should give the girl time to adjust,” Taffy replied, nodding. She patted Stanley’s arm. “But you’ll see. She’s a sweet girl and she’ll fit right in. She’ll probably even go to church with us.” She turned to Eleanor and smiled. “You’re always welcome too.”

  Eleanor refused to take the bait. Taffy had been after her for years to piece back together the relationship she had once had with God. “I need to get back to cleaning that room.” Eleanor headed for the stairs, determined not to give the matter another thought.

  * * *

  Taffy shook her head once Eleanor had disappeared from sight. “That girl has never allowed her hurts to heal.”

  “Some folks can’t. They pick at it like a wound until it’s all festering and infected,” Stanley said. “So who is this great-niece you’ve got coming? Is she as pretty as you?”

  Taffy laughed and pushed Stanley ever so playfully. “She’s twice as pretty and much smarter. She’d never be swayed by your sweet talk.”

  Stanley grinned impishly. He had a boyish charm about him that Taffy found very endearing. Her husband, Cal, had been charming too, but his charm had won him political seats and throngs of admirers, whereas Stanley’s charm was much more down to earth. If Cal’s charm had been a gourmet meal, then Stanley’s was home-cooked fried chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy. Simple but filling.

  Taffy leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Jana’s husband left her. He was a pastor and he ran off with his secretary while Jana was in Africa on a missions trip. I don’t know much else, but the poor girl is devastated. Apparently this was in the works for some time, and while she w
as abroad, her husband resigned from the church. The church hired a new pastor and voila! Jana has to be out of her house almost before she had time to realize what happened.”

  “That’s a pity. Some fellas don’t know a good thing when they have it in their hand.”

  “I’m amazed that a man of God could make such a choice. Of course, many people hide in pretenses of being saved. Perhaps he really didn’t understand what it was to accept Jesus as his Savior.”

  “And maybe he did. We’re all sinners and none of us is perfect,” Stanley countered. “Just forgiven.”

  Taffy knew he was right, but already she was deeply concerned about her great-niece. And about Eleanor. The prospect of her only child coming to live under the same roof had set Eleanor on her ear.

  “You will keep us in your prayers, won’t you?” Taffy questioned.

  “Of course,” he replied. “And we’ll continue our devotions each morning, right?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. What a wonderful way to start the day—reading the Word with a friend. I have no greater joy.”

  * * *

  Eleanor stacked the dusty bedding outside the bedroom door and went back into the room. Unwinding the cord on the vacuum, Eleanor realized she felt almost panicked inside. Her nerves were stretched tight, and a heated, choking sensation had laid hold of her neck and head.

  She grabbed for the end of the bed and managed to sink onto the bare mattress instead of falling to the floor. She eased onto her back and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the light fixture fairly danced in a side-to-side motion, while the rest of the ceiling seemed to swirl in a pulsating rotation.

  “I don’t have time for this,” she moaned. Panic attacks were not unknown to her, but she had to admit she hadn’t had one since coming to live with Taffy.