Harbinger in the Mist (Arms of Serendipity)

by Anabell Martin

  Well, the Bosley’s had a son, Luther. Although he was only in his late 20’s, he was already an established lawyer in his daddy’s firm. He even had his own satellite office in the Upstate and was running for mayor of Greenville. He had married the year before and his wife, Cynthia, was expecting a baby. She was having a difficult pregnancy so they came to stay in the big house, at least until the baby was born and Cynthia was strong enough to go back to Greenville.

  Luther, well let’s just say that he was too handsome and charming for his own good. He and I shared a love of Gamecock football, so we became fast friends. Well, good acquaintances, I should say because Mr. and Mrs. Bosley would have blown a gasket if they knew that their son was “friends” with hired help!

  When I was changing Cynthia’s bedclothes or scrubbing grout when she was sleeping, Luther and I would talk about Coach Dietzel’s chances of turning the Gamecocks into a successful team this year, whether or not it would be wise to leave the A.C.C., and what the coming season would bring.

  One night Luther came to the little guest house that I was living in. He said that he hadn’t been able to sleep and was out for walk, that he’d seen my lights on and thought he’d stop by to say hi. One thing led to another and, well, I am sure you can fill in the blanks.

  We pretended it hadn’t happened, but it was hard to ignore the attraction we had for each other. We had four other nights together before Cynthia finally gave birth and Luther went back to the Upstate to campaign. Cynthia stayed on with the family for a few weeks while she recovered from the birth and learned to take care of her newborn. I helped tend to her and little Maggie while they were there.

  After two missed periods and too many mornings of vomiting, I went to the health department. I called Luther when I got the positive result back. He denied it was his, accused me of trying to trap him. He said that he’d pay for me to have an abortion. I told him that I had no intention of ruining him or killing my baby. I just needed help getting out of his parent’s house and a way to earn a living. I promised him that if he helped me find a new job and a small place to live that I would never bother him again.

  He sent his cousin to me with papers to sign stating the child was not Luther’s, that we had never had an affair. Neil had said that they were “insurance” in case I decided to “go public.”

  Neil also gave me money. It was enough to hold me over for a few months until I could find another job. I managed to start school on time, cruising through my first (and only) semester despite the constant morning sickness.

  Neil came to see me on New Year’s Eve and handed me a set of keys (the very set that you hold right now) and a thick envelope of money. He said that arrangements had been made for me to have my own house and money to keep me quiet. He said that I’d receive enough money to raise you on an annual basis but I had to say, in writing, that another man, a vagrant, was your father. It was written like a letter to Luther. It also had a derogatory comment about Neil so that they could dispute me if I ever pointed to him as the go-between.

  I was happy at first. Then reality sank in. Don’t get me wrong, the house was gorgeous and I had a little bit of money, but... let’s just say that I spent many nights on the sofa down stairs, crying myself to sleep. I was alone, depressed, and fearful. Fearful not of the spirit of the house or its out-of-the-way location, but of the idea of the way life was going to pan out for you. I was already attracting stares and whispers. Out of everyone in town, only one person befriended me during that time. She looked past my naked ring finger and protruding belly. But she was it.

  I obviously had the means to keep you, but what would I tell you when you began to ask why the other kids had daddies and you didn’t? How could I soothe you when one of the backwards people in town called you a ‘bastard’ or insulted me in front of you? Did I want to lay that emotional burden on you? How do you tell a child that their father has no desire to be a part of their life?

  So I called Neil and told him that I wanted to place you for adoption, that you deserved two parents and a safe, friendly place to grow up. He agreed and said that he’d begin searching for “the perfect couple.”

  You were born on a clear, unseasonably chilly night. (It was 45 degrees that night in May which is unheard of down here!) It broke my heart to know that you’d soon be going to another home, that you would snuggle into the arms of another woman, that you would no longer be mine.

  The month I had with you, oh it was bitter sweet! You were so beautiful, so perfect. I got very little sleep because I just held you and kissed you, and tried to remember everything about you. I told you your story at night when you were fussy and refusing to sleep in hopes that one day we would meet again and you would know me on some primal level.

  I loved to sit and rock you and talk to you until the sun began to break through the darkness, kissing the land with the gift of another day.

  June 13, 1973 began as a beautiful day. The sun was shining and life in the estuary behind the house was all a-buzz. I was happy yet heartbroken when Neil arrived unexpectedly at the house during lunch – happy that you were going to a “normal” family, away from the stares, comments, and questions, but so very sad for myself and the loss I was about to suffer.

  Neil told me that he had found a wealthy couple desperately hoping to adopt, that they were waiting at a nearby hotel to take you. I signed papers giving away my rights as you napped in my arms. Then he took you from me. It was really the last day of my life. I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest, leaving a huge, gaping, bleeding void. I ran down the dirt drive after his car, trying to stop him so that I could say goodbye one last time, but the dust choked me and the uneven earth caused me to stumble.

  I sat under the big oak tree near the porch, clutching your baby blanket to my chest, and cried like I’ve never cried before. It was several months before I was able to move your little bassinet to the shacks out back. And your little clothes, oh those little dresses that held your scent for so long! I kept them, too, unable to get rid of any reminder that you had once lived with me, that you had once loved me.

  The house, Neil said, was still mine as a good faith gesture to never come forward with my story. I kept it, holed myself up in it for years; a hermit some called me. A scary lady, possibly a witch others said. Neither was true, of course. I was just heartbroken. My life was passing me by, but at least I was certain that yours was perfect. My one a good friend listened and understood; she really was an angel from God. I hope that you get the chance to at least meet her.

  I have tried to find you for years, but the lawyer had hidden your trail well. I thought I might have opened an avenue to you a few years ago but it was quickly closed. When I finally took my medical papers to his office, begged him to help me, Neil said that he’d tell me how to contact your adoptive mother but that it was up to her when it came to your information.

  Your mother told me that you were studying in Rome and that although you’d never expressed any desire to find me she would give you my contact information.

  I haven’t heard from you and I fear that I won’t make it long enough for you to decide to initiate contact. Oh, how that breaks my heart, but I do understand. I pray to God that I will get to meet you, but if I don’t, please know this: I love you more than anyone ever has loved you or ever will. I loved you enough to rip my own heart out and send it to Indiana in the hands of complete strangers in hopes that you would have a better life than could be provided here, that you’d grow up without the stigma of being a child of an unwed mother and an unnamed father who was more concerned with his reputation and career than with his own flesh and blood.

  I gave you life. Then I gave you a family that could teach you how to live it. Now all I have to give you is your heritage and a house.

  The Marla Rae is a beautiful, historic house. I hope that you will take her and know that every night a prayer was said for you within her walls. I hope you will take her because she was your first home. I hope you wi
ll take her because she is the only thing that I have to pass on from your father and myself. She has a personality, a spirit if you will, all her own.

  She is also spacious, so if you have a family or are planning to start one, there would be plenty of room for everyone to have their private area. At the very least, she is a good tax incentive since she’s historically significant – on the National Register of Historic places. That in and of itself would render it capable of being a beautiful, profitable bed and breakfast if you have the drive and energy to run it. I had hoped to do just that but then I got sick.

  I can feel my senses dulling from the medications I took, so I must go. Just know that I love you so very, very much, my beautiful Elizabeth. I am sorry that I never got to know you.

  With all my love now and forever,

  Angela

  Lindsey dropped the letter on to her lap and put her face in her hands. She was in shock but it was nothing next to what her mother had obviously been going through all alone.

  “Wow,” was all Michelle could say.

  “Do you think your mother is angry with your grandmother for not telling her sooner?” Maddie asked.

  “Angry?” Lindsey held her hand over her mouth. “How could she be? I don’t know, though. This has to be what they talked about just before she died. They sent me out of the room for coffee… and when I got back Gramma was crying and apologizing. Mom was standing several feet away from her bed… She hasn’t talked to me about any of this and she’ll be pissed that I found out like this. But I would hope that she wouldn’t be angry at Gramma. Shocked, maybe. But not angry.”

  “I mean, really,” Lindsey continued, getting angry at a woman she’d never known existed, this woman that seemed to be the reason her own mother had abandoned their life in Indiana. “What does this woman matter anyway? So she was really the one who had given birth to mom. But she didn’t seem to care because she gave her away. What kind of person would give their baby to complete strangers? Why should mom d really even care about what she had to say?”

  “Lindsey,” Maddie started, but Lindsey shook her hand to silence her.

  She refolded the letter and stuffed it back into its envelope. Out of the second envelope, she pulled two crinkled, time-faded papers. The spaces had been filled in with an old-timey typewriter. Some letters were darker than others; some were nearly faded all together. She perused the adoption papers in silence. One thing stood out – there was information missing.

  “Hey,” she was confused. “On these adoption papers there’s no information on Mom’s … biological dad.”

  “Maybe she didn’t know,” Michelle muttered, slowing to allow a mangy dog to sniff its way across the road.

  “No, she did,” Maddie retorted. “Weren’t you paying attention to that letter? Lindsey’s grandfather is Luther Bosley.”

  “He’s not my – ” Lindsey started to argue but Michelle spoke over her, glancing sideways at her twin sister.

  “First off, I was paying attention to the road. Secondly, did you just say ‘Bosley’? Why does that name sound so familiar?”

  “Luther Bosley ran for governor a few years ago, but he lost” Maddie answered. “Remember all the negative ads that ran down here, the ones about the Governor McKey’s family? Mom voted off party lines because the man’s ads were so offensive ”

  “Was he the one with the ad about how his opponent’s wife and kids were all overweight and how we’d all end up fat if he were re-elected?”

  “Yep. The very one. I remember the photo of school lunch trays full of pizza and donuts they kept flashing on the screen.”

  “Wow, though. How sad for your mom… and her mom.”

  Lindsey sat with her hand over her mouth in shock at everything she’d just learned. Sure, the letter from the biological mother was sad, but she felt a strong allegiance to Gramma and her memory. Besides, the woman had made her bed hard and then had to lie in it. Boo-hoo for her .

  “My mom’s mom was my Gramma, not this lady that we never knew. Seriously, what a cop-out that letter is. My mom raised me alone. And she was in much worse shape financially than this Angela woman. My dad doesn’t give a hill of beans about me, either, but mom kept me and did a damned good job. So what kind of excuse is –”

  “Lindsey, you just don’t want to think anything bad about your grandmother and that’s understandable,” Maddie was apologetic. “But it’s not so black and white. Adoption … it can be traumatic on the birthparents and the adoptees. Angela was probably thinking about the welfare of your mother. Being a single parent down here back then… well, I bet she thought she was saving your mom from quite a bit of harassment. In the end though, I’m sure this is bothering your mother horribly and she’s trying to figure out how to deal with it without being angry at anyone. Try to see things from her perspective. Give her time … and try not to hate it if she decides that she wants to seek out her birth family.”

  Michelle, who was now paying more attention to the conversation, and the heaviness settling in the car because of it, decided to change the topic of conversation. “Did you know that Dad was an extra in ‘Radio,’ and that Maddie and I got to meet Cuba Gooding Jr.? When you’re at USC-Salk next year, check out the courtyard with the fountain – it was a setting for a scene in the movie, too.”

  “I haven’t seen that movie, we’ll have to watch it one night. And wow, I can’t imagine this place being the set of a major movie,” Lindsey responded as she stuffed the letters back into the large manila envelope. “It’s so … remote.”

  “There have been several big movies filmed down here,” Michelle said. She rattled off a slew of them. Some Lindsey had seen, others she hadn’t.

  “What all was filmed down in these parts? Gosh, where to begin? There was ‘Radio,’ of course, ‘Forest Gump,’ ‘The Prince of Tides,’ ‘The Patriot,’ ‘The Legend of Bagger Vance,’ ‘Full Metal Jacket,’ ‘Cold Mountain,’ ‘The Fugitive,’ and ‘Dear John.’ Man, the list goes on and on.”

  “Wow.”

  “Well, there are areas down here that are simply breathtaking. It’s also timeless – you could be in the 21st century or the 16th century. Seriously, there are plantations down here that are in pristine condition and still operating, too. We’ll have to take you out to Boone Hall one day.”

  “Michelle, before we plan any excursions to Mount Pleasant, we have to take her to Kiawah Island for a turtle watch. Nesting season is nearly over.”

  “You’re right, Mads,” Michelle said as they pulled into the crowded parking lot of Whirlin’ Waves Water Wonderland.

  “Nesting season?”

  “Yeah,” Maddie answered. “Loggerhead turtles come up on the beaches at night to lay their eggs. The season runs from May to August. It’s really neat to watch these huge, 300-pound turtles lug themselves out of the water, trundle laboriously up the beach, and dig these massive nests in the sand. Sure, turtles are graceful in the water. On land, not so much. Since they’re endangered, it’s a really big deal.”

  “Oh! And don’t forget the hatchlings!” Michelle added, twisting around in the seat as she turned the ignition off. “The entire nest erupts like two months later with all these little baby turtles that are the size of the palm of your hand. They dig themselves out and head toward the ocean. It’s way cool! We generally go over to Kiawah a few times each summer to do turtle watches. We’re planning to go out as soon as Wind Dancer drops that foal.”

  The twins chattered excitedly about the turtles, explaining the nesting and incubation process to Lindsey, as they walked across the scorching hot parking lot, paid their entry fee, and headed to the lockers where they rubbed on tanning lotion and stowed their valuables.

  Whirlin’ Waves wasn’t the biggest water park Lindsey had ever been to, but it was nice. And, considering the time of year, it wasn’t actually very crowded. When you entered the complex, a sidewalk lined with large Palmetto trees led you to a main pool that was circular. Lounge chairs sat in a wide arc around the
front half of it, many of them in the shade of the Palmetto trees. Two life guard chairs and a pile of inner tubes lined the other side of the pool. To the right were umbrella covered tables, a concession stand, and a gift shop. Past the concession stand was a kiddie area with fountains and small slides. To the left, another walkway pointed to the “Severe Summit,” an area full of large slides and a wave pool.

  They chose a trio of chairs right in front of the main pool so that they would be close to the slides as well as the concession area. After laying towels on the seats, they started out playing in the swimming pool. Lindsey gazed lazily at the kids in the kiddie area playing in the fountains and the older kids trying to pelt each other with the pressurized water guns.

  “Let’s go hit some slides,” Michelle suggested after a while.

  Lindsey was laid back on a blue inner tube enjoying the feel of the sun on her skin and the slow rocking of the water below her. “Eh, I think I’ll stay here, but you two go have fun.”

  The twins waved goodbye and took off toward the “Severe Summit.” For a good hour Lindsey was able to forget about her problems at the house. For an hour there was no ghost, no haunted house, and no fear. There was only bright sunshine, cool blue water, palm fronds waving in the laughter-laced breeze, and the smell of chlorine and sunscreen intermingled with the occasional briny whiff of ocean water. She nearly went to sleep lying there, gently rocking back and forth.

  “You better turn over before you burn, chickadee!” Maddie yelled and jumped into the pool beside Lindsey. The sudden movement nearly toppled Lindsey’s inner tube. She was sprayed with cold water that shocked her hot skin.