“Your daughter belongs to Peoples Temple?” Clara asked.
“My daughter-in-law,” Grandma said. “That is, my former daughter-in-law. Judy’s mother.”
“What is her name?” Clara asked.
“Cassie Webster,” Grandma said.
“Well, if I hear anything, anything at all, I’ll come tell you.”
“Oh, thank you!” Grandma took Clara’s hand and shook it. “Thank you so much. We’re just so worried.”
“I understand.” Clara shook her head sadly. She leaned down to look me in the face. “If I hear anything, Judy, I’ll come tell you right away. And I will pray for your mother, okay?”
I nodded. The lump in my throat kept my voice inside.
Grandma and I watched as she walked back across the street, past the crowd on the lawn, and into the building.
“What a lovely woman,” Grandma said. “And just what did you think you were doing?”
“Daddy said the news people are here because they think the people in the building know what’s happening.”
“Oh, honey.” Grandma knelt and hugged me. “Don’t you worry, okay? Your mother is going to be fine.”
I nodded, but I didn’t believe her.
After lunch, Daddy still hadn’t come back. Grandma had the television on, with the sound off. Every time a news bulletin aired, we watched silently. The number of dead grew all day ... first four hundred, then six hundred, then more. After a while, she stopped telling me that Mama was okay. I think she stopped believing it, too.
Just before two, someone knocked on the door. Grandma rose to answer it. Then she gasped.
“Cassie! Thank God! Oh, thank God! Are you okay?”
She opened the door wide and pulled Mama in from the front porch. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh, thank God!”
Mama stood still as Grandma hugged her tightly. I sat on the couch, watching. Mama was here. Mama was alive. Mama was okay, just like I’d prayed for. But I couldn’t make myself get up, run to her, or say anything. I just sat and watched while Grandma hugged her and cried.
“Where’s Kirk?” Mama asked, pulling back from Grandma’s embrace.
“He’s downtown. Cassie, we’ve been out of our minds. Where have you been? Are you okay?”
Mama’s eyes found me, huddled on the couch. “Judy? Oh my God, Judy! My Sweet Judy.”
She ran and dropped to the floor in front of me, scooping me into her arms.
“Sweet Judy,” she crooned, again and again. “My Sweet Judy.” I felt her tears fall onto my neck. “Thank God you’re okay. Oh, thank God.”
I clung to her, trying hard to understand that she was really here. Mama, who I hadn’t seen for so long, who I thought was dead or lost in a jungle in South America, Mama was here, holding me tight and crying and shaking all over.
“Mama,” I whispered finally, touching her gold hair.
“Cassie,” Grandma said, pulling at Mama’s shoulder. “Are you all right? Where have you been?”
Finally, Mama sat back on her haunches, still holding my hand tightly, and looked up at Grandma.
“I’ve been in hell, Anne,” she said.
Grandma stared at her in silence. Then she asked, “Were you in California? We thought maybe you’d gone down there ... to Guyana. And we thought ... oh, Lord, Cassie! We thought you might be dead!”
Mama’s eyes darted around the room. “I might still be dead, Anne,” she said. “If they find me, I will be dead.”
“Who? If who finds you?” Grandma’s eyes widened.
“The government, the CIA,” Mama said. “They’re killing us all.”
Grandma sank into a chair. “What are you talking about?”
“They’re killing us, Anne,” Mama insisted. “They sent down that congressman, and then they killed him to make us look crazy. And then, oh, God, Anne. They killed us! They killed everyone down there, even the babies.”
Grandma just looked at her as if she was crazy.
“You have to hide me,” Mama continued. “They’re after us, all of us. They want us all dead.”
“Hush, now,” Grandma said softly. “You’re scaring Judy.”
And that was true. I was scared. Why was the government after Mama? Were they after me, too? Why did they kill those babies?
Mama’s eyes were huge, staring at the wall above my head. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she shook her head.
“You don’t know,” she said. “You just don’t know.”
“Come on.” Grandma pulled Mama up by her arm. “Let’s go in the kitchen and have some coffee. You look like you could use some.”
Mama allowed herself to be pulled into the kitchen, but she clung tightly to my hand. Her eyes darted about the room as if she was looking for something, or someone.
We sat at the kitchen table and Grandma poured two cups of coffee. She set out the plate of cookies we’d made and told Mama to eat some.
“We were so worried,” she said, eyeing Mama cautiously. “Why didn’t you call us and let us know you were okay?”
“I couldn’t, Anne. My phone was probably bugged. All our phones are bugged.”
“What’s ‘bugged’?” I asked.
“Never mind,” Grandma said, giving Mama a firm look. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
We sat in silence for a moment, while Mama ate a cookie. Then Grandma rose. “I have to call Kirk,” she said. “He’s been out of his mind with worry.”
Mama just nodded and reached for another cookie. She was eating like she was half starved. I sat watching her while Grandma dialed the phone.
“Kirk? It’s Mom. And everything is okay. Cassie is here.... Yes, she got here a few minutes ago. She’s fine.... Yes, honey, she’s fine.... Okay, we’ll wait for you. Drive carefully.”
She smiled as she hung up the phone. “He’s coming right away. Oh, Cassie, he’s been so worried. We’ve all been so worried.”
Mama didn’t answer. She seemed nervous, like she was waiting for something bad to happen. It made me nervous, just watching her.
“Good gracious, honey. You look starved,” Grandma said as Mama took another cookie. “Let me make you a sandwich. You need something more than cookies.”
Mama smiled at her then. “Thanks, Anne. I guess I forgot to eat this morning.”
So Grandma made a grilled cheese sandwich and found some potato salad in the fridge. Mama ate everything Grandma put in front of her. I simply watched her eat. It had been years since I’d seen her. I’d forgotten how pretty she was, even now, with her blond hair hanging limp around her face and dark circles sagging under her eyes.
“Mama?”
“Yes, Sweet Judy?”
“I prayed for you.”
Mama’s green eyes filled with tears and she took my hand. “Thank you, sweetie. I’m sure what kept me safe were your prayers.”
“Mom?” Daddy’s voice rang from the front room.
“In here,” Grandma called back.
Daddy rushed into the room and stood, staring at the three of us. Then he dropped to his knees, right there on the linoleum floor, and cried. I ran to him and put my arms around his neck. I’d only seen Daddy cry once before.
After a minute, he ran his hand across his eyes and hugged me. Then he walked to the table and draped his arms around Mama.
“Thank God,” he whispered. “I was so scared.”
Mama leaned into him, letting her head rest on his chest. “Hey, Kirk,” she said softly. “I’m sorry I worried you.”
Daddy sat down at the table and took Mama’s hands. “Where have you been, Cassie? Why didn’t you call?”
Before Mama could answer, Grandma rose and said, “Come on, Judy. Let’s let your folks talk for a bit.”
“But, Grandma ...”
Daddy smiled at me and said, “Go on, honey. Your mama and I have some things we need to talk about.”
So I went back to the living room with Grandma and she turned on the television to afternoon cartoons.
“You wait here,
” she said. “I have to call Grandpa and let him know your mother’s okay.”
She walked back to her bedroom and closed the door. I sat for a minute, staring at the television without really seeing it. Then I got up and tiptoed down the hall toward the kitchen. I stopped outside the door and listened.
“It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever been part of,” Mama was saying. Her voice sounded tired. “A truly integrated community, everyone helping everyone, it was just beautiful. And Jim Jones was the most wonderful man, Kirk. Honestly, he was the most loving man I’ve ever known. He would never have done this. It had to be the CIA. They’ve been after us for so long.”
“But, Cassie,” Daddy said. “They’re saying on the news it was a mass suicide.”
“No!” Mama’s voice was sharp. “I don’t believe that. You don’t understand, you just don’t know how bad it’s been. The government planted spies in the church, they were watching us all the time. We knew when that congressman went down it would be bad. He took a bunch of defectors with him, troublemakers is what they are. And now look what they’ve done.”
She started to cry. I could hear her soft sobbing. So I ran to her and put my arms around her neck.
“Don’t cry, Mama. Please don’t cry. Daddy and I still love you.”
She clung to me and cried harder.
“Have you called your parents?” Daddy asked, patting her back.
She shook her head. “Hell no,” she said. “They’d probably turn me in to the feds.”
“They were here yesterday, Cassie. They ... well, your dad was really worried. You should call him.”
She just shook her head again.
“What am I going to do now?” she asked. “Where will I go? Everyone I knew, my whole family is gone.”
“We’re not gone, Cassie,” Daddy said. “Judy and I are right here. And my folks, they’ll help. You’ll stay with us until you get things sorted out.”
She stared at him, tears dripping from her chin.
“Really, Kirk? You’d let me stay with you?”
“Of course you’ll stay with us. You’re Judy’s mama and ... and you’ll stay with us.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, covering his hand with hers.
Grandma came into the kitchen and announced that Grandpa was on his way home. “He’s closed the garage for the day, and he’s stopping at the store to get some things for dinner. We’re going to have a nice welcome-home dinner, just the five of us. Unless you want to invite your parents, Cassie?”
“Thank you, Anne. That’s sweet of you, but I don’t think ... I can’t tell you ...” She started crying again.
Grandma patted her back and said, “There, now. It’s okay. Why don’t you lie down for a while? You look exhausted. Now, don’t argue, you need some rest. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
Mama let herself be pulled toward the bedroom that had been mine once, when Daddy and I had moved in with my grandparents after Mama left. At the door, she stopped and turned.
“You won’t leave, will you?” she asked, looking at Daddy.
“No, Cassie. I’ll stay right here. It’s going to be okay. You get some rest.”
I sat at the table next to Daddy and he took my hand.
“She’s going to be okay,” he said. “She’s just tired and upset, and she needs to rest.”
“Daddy, what’s the CIA?”
Daddy grimaced and shook his head. “It’s like the president’s police force, honey. But don’t worry, they’re not after Mama. She’s not thinking clearly because she’s so upset. She’ll calm down once she’s had some rest.”
13
Daddy was right about the CIA. They did not come for Mama. But he was wrong about Mama. She didn’t calm down, not even after she’d rested a lot.
She came to stay at our house with Daddy and me after dinner that night. I showed her the yard and the tree where Daddy was building me a tree house. I showed her my room and played some records for her on my record player. Then Daddy showed her the guest room, where we had a daybed and a television for company.
Mama smiled and nodded and looked at everything, but she seemed like she wasn’t really hearing anything we said. Her eyes darted constantly. She startled at every little noise. She didn’t sit in one place more than a few minutes before moving someplace else.
At nine o’clock, she said she was so tired she thought she might just die. That scared me. So when she went to bed in the guest room, I went with her. And I held her hand until she fell asleep, just like Grandma had held mine while we worried about whether Mama was okay. Then I sat for a long time just watching her sleep. Finally, Daddy told me it was time to go to bed.
“Will she be okay?” I asked as he closed the door to the guest room.
“Yes, honey,” he said. “She’ll be fine.”
Daddy stayed home from work the next day, and I stayed home from school again. Daddy made pancakes and I went to wake Mama. She was whimpering in her sleep, and when I touched her shoulder, she sat up like she’d been hit by lightning and swung her arm at me. “No!” she yelled.
I jumped back, my hands in front of my face, afraid she would hit me. But she dropped her hands when she saw me. “Oh, Sweet Judy,” she said. “I’m sorry! Mama is so sorry. I was having a bad dream and I thought ... well, I’m just really sorry. Are you okay?”
I nodded. “Daddy’s making pancakes,” I said cautiously.
She smiled at me and held open her arms, but I backed out of the room, turned on my heel, and ran back down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Daddy asked when he saw me.
“I don’t ... I ... What’s wrong with her, Daddy?”
He knelt in front of me and took my face in his hands. “Your mama has been through a terrible, terrible experience, honey. She needs some time to rest and heal. But she’ll get better, you’ll see. Are you okay?”
I nodded.
Mama padded barefoot down the stairs. “Judy? Honey, are you okay? I’m sorry I scared you.”
“It’s okay, Mama,” I said, leaning into Daddy’s chest.
“No, it’s not okay, and I’m sorry.” Mama sat on the floor in front of me and reached for my hand. “I was having a really bad dream, and I didn’t know it was you.”
“It’s okay,” I repeated.
Her beautiful green eyes filled with tears and she shook her head. I felt bad for her then, so I put my arms around her neck cautiously. She pulled me into her lap and held me so tight I could hardly breathe.
“How about some breakfast?” Daddy stood and waved toward a plate piled high with pancakes. After a long minute, Mama let me go.
We ate at the kitchen table. Daddy and I both watched Mama as she ate her pancakes. Her eyes constantly strayed toward the back door. Finally, Daddy patted her hand and said, “It’s okay, Cassie. You’re safe here. No one is coming after you.”
She simply shook her head again.
“I called Rhonda last night,” Daddy said. “She’s coming over this afternoon to see you.”
“Oh no, Kirk,” Mama said. “I can’t. I don’t feel like seeing anyone. Not yet.”
Daddy talked to her the way he talked to me sometimes when I was afraid. “Come on, Cassie. It’s Rhonda, she’s your best friend. Or, at least she was your best friend. She’s been really worried about you, and she just wants to see you.”
Rhonda did come that afternoon, carrying a bunch of daisies, a bottle of wine, and her two-year-old son, Jason. She hugged Mama, the baby squished between them.
“God, Cassie, we were so worried about you. Are you okay?”
Mama pulled back slightly and tried to smile. “I’m okay,” she said softly. She reached out to touch Jason’s cheek. “He’s beautiful,” she said.
“Yeah, he is, isn’t he?” Rhonda smiled. “He’s my angel.”
She turned to me then. “Hey, squirt,” she said. “How are you doing? I’ll bet you’re glad your mom is home.”
<
br /> I nodded and tried to smile.
Daddy walked into the kitchen and smiled at us all. “I’m heading for the store,” he announced. “Is there anything you want, Cassie?”
Mama shook her head. “I’m okay, Kirk. Thanks.”
“Okay, well, I won’t be gone long. Are you staying awhile?” he asked Rhonda.
“Sure.” She grinned. “I’ll be here awhile. We have lots of catching up to do.”
Daddy kissed the top of my head, then he kissed Mama’s head, too. That surprised me.
“Back in a bit,” he said, closing the back door behind him.
Rhonda handed Mama the bottle of wine. “I brought refreshments,” she said, laughing.
“Oh, no, thanks.” Mama shook her head. “I don’t drink anymore.”
Rhonda stared at her in disbelief. “Not at all?”
“No,” Mama said. “Father says it’s a waste of time and money.”
“Father?” Rhonda looked confused.
“Reverend Jones ... Jim,” Mama said. “We call him Father. Or, well, we did call him that.”
She sat down at the table and put her head in her hands. Rhonda looked at me, her eyes wide, then sat down beside her and draped her arm over Mama’s shoulders.
“It’s okay, Cassie,” she said softly. “You’re going to be okay now.”
Jason squirmed on her lap, then reached for one of Mama’s dangly earrings.
“No, baby,” Rhonda said, pulling his hand away. “Those aren’t for you.”
She put the baby on the floor and he toddled toward me, his hands stretched out in front of him.
“He loves coming to see you,” Rhonda said, smiling at me.
“Can I give him a cookie?”
Rhonda nodded. “But just one, okay?”
I got an Oreo cookie for Jason, and he sat down on the floor and began eating it at once.
“So, no wine for you? Do you mind if I have a glass?” Rhonda asked Mama.
“No, I don’t mind.” Mama rose and began looking through the cabinets for a glass.
“They’re here,” I said, pulling a wineglass from a shelf. Then I got the corkscrew from a drawer. Mama smiled as she took it from me. “Thanks, sweetie.”
She poured red wine into the glass and set it on the table. Then she stood a minute, looking at the glass.
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