Under a Cloudless Sky

by Chris Fabry

  Corky gave Charlotte a pained look when she explained what she’d learned from Frances. Then he took the camera back. “Leave this with me and get back to work. And stop chasing whatever you’re trying to corroborate. I don’t pay you to corroborate. I pay you to report.”

  She couldn’t help smiling at the old curmudgeon. “Anything I can help with on your special edition?”

  20

  FRANCES MAKES A DECISION

  BIDING, KENTUCKY

  THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 2004

  Frances stared out the windshield, mesmerized by the cadence of the wiper blades. A light rain now fell and the blades scraped and stuck on the partially wet glass.

  “I don’t think you ought to go,” Wallace said without looking at her as they returned to Ruby’s house.

  “I don’t think you have much say.”

  “Maybe not, but it feels like a wild-goose chase.”

  Frances turned toward him. “Charlotte may know some things about the wild goose. Maybe she’s down there wandering around.”

  Wallace ran a hand through his thinning hair. “What if she’s somewhere else? What if she’s headed to the coast?”

  “I’ll buy a swimsuit.”

  He shook his head. “If they find her here, you’ll be a long way off.”

  “Jerry is here.” She said it as a hopeful thing, but it felt more like resignation.

  They pulled into the driveway, and as if on cue, there was Jerry sitting like a stone on the front porch under the eaves in one of Ruby’s metal lawn chairs. The rain was coming down harder and darker clouds made the overcast sky look like a blanket.

  “I called the credit card company again,” Jerry said when they took cover on the front porch. “Still hasn’t been used.”

  Frances opened the door and walked to the kitchen with Wallace and Jerry following. She opened the dresser and pulled out the calendar.

  “Right here.” She pointed at the question mark on Saturday’s date.

  “We saw that before,” Jerry said.

  “But Charlotte just told me the dedication of the Company Store Museum in Beulah Mountain is Saturday.”

  “Who in the world is Charlotte?”

  Frances ignored him. “They wanted her there as part of the celebration. But we took her keys.”

  “Why wouldn’t she say anything about wanting to go?” Wallace said.

  “I would have driven her down there,” Jerry said. “And who’s Charlotte?”

  Frances stared at the calendar. “Maybe there’s someone she wanted to meet. Or something in the past she doesn’t want us to know.”

  Wallace said he would phone the sheriff and let them know what Frances believed. “They can ask the authorities near Beulah Mountain to be on the lookout.”

  “I know Mom drives slow, but even she would have to have been there by now,” Jerry said.

  Frances’s phone rang and she answered, afraid it was the police informing her of a body. Instead it was her daughter.

  “Have you heard anything?” Julia said.

  “No, honey. We found a car but it wasn’t hers. And she hasn’t used her credit card.”

  Julia cursed. “You must be freaking out.”

  “I’m close to it. But your dad has been a big help.”

  “He’s still there?”

  “Yes. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t driven up.”

  There was an awkward silence.

  “Has he talked to you? About . . . ?”

  “About what?”

  “Never mind,” Julia said. “Melanie said you called.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. I had a harebrained idea that your grandmother might be trying to help you. Might have driven down there—”

  “Help me with what?”

  “I don’t know. You know how I get when things don’t go as planned. My mind goes to . . . bad places.”

  “Melanie told me you sounded upset.”

  “I’m trying to figure out where she is. I saw your number on her phone.”

  “You promised you wouldn’t call.”

  Frances let the comment go. “Look, you go back to your studies. You don’t need to worry about this.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do, Mom.”

  “No, I meant that to help. I don’t want you to worry.”

  “She’s my grandmother. How can you say that? You can’t tell me how to feel.”

  Frances closed her eyes and took a breath. She wanted a relationship with her daughter more than anything, but every time they had a conversation, things wound up this way. What she said in kindness was twisted.

  “Call me when you find out anything, okay?” Julia said quickly.

  “I will,” Frances said. The line clicked dead on the other end.

  “I’m going home,” Jerry said, lumbering toward the front door. “I can take a phone call there as well as I can here.”

  Frances and Wallace watched him leave and they were alone. There was a soft pitter-pat of rain on the roof.

  “Look at that,” Wallace said, pointing out the back door.

  “That must be the cat she told me about. Mom doesn’t have pets anymore but she said there’s a feral cat who comes around and she tosses it scraps. She said it lets her pet it.”

  “That cat doesn’t look like you would want to get within ten feet of it.”

  Frances found the can of scraps in the corner. She took the half-eaten ham sandwich outside and threw the contents of the can toward the middle of the backyard. The cat bounded away, then returned gingerly and crouched, eating. Its rib cage showed through the yellow-and-white fur.

  “Why doesn’t she have a dog?” Wallace said.

  “She fell over the last one. I told her if she was going to break a hip, it ought to be for something other than a Chihuahua.”

  “It’s a shame. She was always good with animals.”

  “They came to her. I think they sensed something about her. How gentle she was.”

  “Maybe they knew how much money she had.”

  The thought made Frances chuckle. Nobody knew how much money Ruby had—you couldn’t tell it by her car, her clothes, or her house. This was the thing that galled Jerry—he wanted to live first-class on coach income. His mother was the opposite.

  “I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say that will keep you from driving down there,” Wallace said.

  “No. Even if I don’t find her, I’ll learn more about her.”

  Wallace nodded. “Makes sense.”

  “Do you want something to eat?”

  “I’m not hungry, Frances.”

  The way he said her name, the way it came from his lips, made her heart think there was something behind the words. She held the door open and he brushed her arm as he passed and something electric ran through her. It was like the old days, when they were dating, when his touch could make her come alive.

  “You’d better get going if you hope to get there tonight,” he said. “The roads will be slick.”

  Frances stopped at the kitchen table and turned. It reminded her of moments in their past when he found a reason to slip away. When life got hard, Wallace got moving and usually in the other direction. But here he was, standing with her, looking her in the eyes. And that fact gave her hope.

  “Is there any part of you that wants to go with me?” she said softly.

  He smiled sadly. “Yeah, there is. The part that feels sorry about everything I’ve put you through.”

  “We don’t have to go over that. I hope you can let it go. I have.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Part of why I came was . . . Well, I need to make up for what I did.”

  “You’ve been a big help.” She put a hand on the back of a chair to steady herself for the next question. “If I asked you to drive me, would you? If I told you I needed you?”

  “I’d like to, Frances. With the new job, I’m on thin ice.”

  “I understand.”

  There was something about his face t
hat felt like he was searching, and Frances wondered if they were having the same feelings. “Wallace, I’ve been thinking that there’s a purpose behind things that happen.”

  “You’re sounding like Ruby.”

  She smiled. “Maybe this happened because of you and me. Has that entered your mind?”

  He scratched his temple, right at the hairline that was creeping upward. It was a habit when he was nervous or when he wasn’t sure what to say or when he was scared of the truth. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it.”

  “I used to long for you to have a relationship with Julia. I prayed she wouldn’t grow up in a single-parent home. Now you’re so involved in her life.”

  “And you’re not sure how to feel about that.”

  “I’m grateful she has access to us both. I’m glad you’re close. When I spoke with her, she asked if you had talked with me. It sounded like she knew something I didn’t.”

  When he glanced up, Frances was sure it was something she didn’t want to know.

  “Is there something you need to say?” she said.

  “This is not the time, Frances.”

  “No, I think it is.”

  Wallace studied the floor, then the wall that had the dry-erase board with phone numbers and instructions for her father’s medication. After he had died, Ruby had asked that the board be kept as it was. The writing had faded but the record of the past was there in red and green and blue.

  Wallace cleared his throat. “I’ve met someone.”

  Three-word sentences of the past wound through Frances’s mind. I love you. I hate you. I despise you. I adore you.

  I’ve met someone.

  Her knuckles turned white on the back of the chair and she was glad Jerry had left. He would have asked the woman’s name and shoe size and what to get her for Christmas. Or smacked him on the back and said, Good for you, Wallace.

  She’d heard somewhere that it took more muscles in the face to frown than to smile, though at that moment she didn’t believe it. But she tried. She couldn’t offer words of congratulation. A smile was all she could give.

  “I met her at the group,” he said. “Carolyn and I went down to see Julia last weekend. To tell her what was going on.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Julia seemed to take it well.”

  “I wonder if that’s why she called my mother,” Frances said. “To talk things through.” She hit rewind on the day. “So when I called and asked for help, was this part of why you came? You wanted to tell me this?”

  He took a deep breath. “I heard the fear in your voice. I wanted to help. But I’ve also had this news. I wanted it to come up naturally.”

  “So you told Julia first. And you thought she’d break the news to me?”

  “No, I told her not to mention it.”

  Frances laughed derisively, though she tried to hold back. “You asked her to keep your secret.”

  “It wasn’t like that. Don’t twist this. I’m trying to do the right thing. I’m trying to get my life together.”

  “And why couldn’t you have tried ten years ago?”

  “Maybe I should go.”

  “Yeah, maybe you should,” she said. When he got to the door, she said, “This is what you always did: you walked away.”

  “You just told me I should go.”

  “I’ve waited for you.” As soon as Frances spoke, the emotion came and she hated it. “I waited for you to turn around. I waited for you to see what you were doing to us. You never did. I waited for you to hit bottom and every time you did, you bounced. And you fell on me and Julia.”

  He stood at the door with his hand on the knob.

  “Now you came here at my lowest point to tell me you’ve met Carolyn,” she said with a catch in her throat. “I really felt like you cared. I thought you were here because you were concerned.”

  “I do care,” he said to the door. “That’s why I drove up.”

  “You drove up to ease your conscience. You took your girlfriend to see our daughter. It must be serious. You must be talking about marriage.”

  He didn’t deny it.

  “She’s probably telling you it’s time to tell me. Answer me truthfully. When did you tell Carolyn about our get-together here? When did you call her?”

  Wallace took a few steps back toward Frances. “You called me. It sounded bad. I called my boss and explained I had an emergency. When I hit the road this morning, when I knew she’d be up, I called Carolyn. I told her I felt like I needed to be here.”

  “And what did the magnanimous Carolyn have to say?” She held up a hand. “You know what? Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. This is your life, Wallace. We were over a long time ago and I should have seen that.”

  “She agreed with me. She thought I should be here.”

  “I told you not to tell me.”

  “I know what you told me. I want you to know.”

  Frances turned her back, then closed her eyes.

  “Carolyn’s marriage and family fell apart, too. She lost her kids. Made some bad choices just like me. She said if it were her and she had the chance, she would do the same thing.”

  “What a wonderful person,” Frances said quickly.

  “I can’t make up for what I did. I can’t repay you for the wrong. All I can do is tell you how sorry I am. If I could go back and change things, I would.”

  Frances thought if there were a time machine available, she’d push him inside and lock the door. She kept her back to him and gritted her teeth. She didn’t want him to see her weak.

  “I probably should have told you about Carolyn before I told Julia. I can see that now. I don’t know how all of this works, Frances. I didn’t do it well. But I never intended to hurt you again.”

  “Right. Got it. Thank you.”

  He gave a deep sigh. She turned quickly and saw a tenderness in his face she hadn’t expected.

  “Go home, Wallace. Go back to work. I misread things. I have a tendency to see life different than it is.”

  “I’ll drive down there with you if you still want me.”

  Frances shook her head. “No. This is something I have to do alone.”

  He lingered, then closed the door behind himself and walked through the rain. Frances turned off the lights and watched him drive away.

  “Guess it’s time to chase a wild goose,” she whispered to herself.

  21

  WE REWIND TO THE DAY RUBY HEADED FOR BEULAH MOUNTAIN

  BIDING, KENTUCKY

  WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 2004

  Ruby woke from a restful sleep at daylight and felt energy she hadn’t experienced since Leslie had slept beside her. This was the first day of the rest of her life. She felt like one of the magi following a star.

  She saw a swath of light shining through the almost-closed draperies and a song came to mind—an old hymn she remembered from the church in Beulah Mountain.

  How beautiful to walk in the steps of the Savior,

  Stepping in the light, stepping in the light;

  How beautiful to walk in the steps of the Savior, led in paths of light.

  She walked gingerly at first, gaining balance and momentum, then literally stepped into the sunshine and pulled back the closet door, revealing the clothes she had chosen. Ruby clasped her hands as she noticed sunlight had fallen on the shoe box at the bottom of the closet as if it were a sign, a confirmation. She put the boots on and laced them and walked around the bedroom. They felt snug but strangely comforting.

  With her cash safely stashed in the locked glove box and a small cooler with lemonade and sandwiches in the back, next to a fresh cake covered in saran wrap, she adjusted the Rand McNally map beside her, put on her seat belt, started the car, and said a prayer.

  “Lord, I believe you’ve put this in my mind and I’ll follow you, even though it scares me. Guide me. Protect me. Into your hands I place my spirit and this Town Car. Amen.”

  She smiled at the prayer and eased out of the driveway, loo
king both ways for oncoming traffic. She nearly drove into the FoodFair parking lot because of how many times she had made that trip, but she corrected herself and rolled to a stop at the intersection by the gas station. Jerry had filled the car up two weeks earlier and the gauge was still just below the full mark.

  A horn blew behind her and she looked in the crooked rearview mirror. That was the one thing about this car. The mirror was wobbly and Jerry had tried but said it couldn’t be tightened. Ruby had put on some duct tape and called it good, but that meant she had to adjust the mirror after hitting bumps and potholes. The truth was, she didn’t use the rearview mirror. It made her anxious to look back. The driver of the car behind waved an arm at her and then hit the gas, pulled around her, and ran through the stop sign.

  Ruby waved. “Go ahead, it’s your funeral.”

  She pulled onto the county road and got up to a speed she felt comfortable with, her heart beating wildly because of the impatient driver. People were in a hurry to get where they needed to go, she guessed.

  She took a deep breath and spoke comforting words. “You’re all right, Ruby. You and the Lord are going to get there.”

  Five miles later, she glanced in the crooked rearview mirror again. A line of cars and trucks stretched as far as she could see. The next turn took her toward the cemetery and though she hadn’t planned to go there because of the winding road, she felt like she could breathe again, the cars and trucks passing as she gingerly drove up the hill.

  She prayed all the way up and into the gravel lot by the white church. Such a peaceful place. She got out and used her cane to travel the uneven ground to the gate and toward her husband’s stone. When she made it, she leaned against it and rested, looking at the trees and the sun shining through them.

  “Leslie, there were some things I never told you. I’m sorry. I carried things alone. And it pains me you never knew. But I’m going to deal with it the best I can.”

  Back on the road, minus the cake she gave to the caretaker, Ruby merged onto the interstate, where semis passed at ungodly speeds. The limit here was sixty-five, but people treated that as a suggestion. Car after car passed her and she looked straight ahead, a death grip on the wheel.