John thought of his sister. It hurt seeing her so torn up, more helpless than he'd ever seen her. She had always been strong. They laughed together as kids and still had that easy rapport even now. But she grew more serious over the years, as if something enveloped her, something she couldn't shake.
John squeezed his eyes shut and a tear escaped. Piper was an anchor in his life, one whose love for him showed in everything she said or did. He thought of her now, lying in the bed, distraught beyond anything he could imagine. There was nothing he could do but be there for her. Be there for her because their father couldn't be and their mother wasn't. He wiped his eyes one last time and refocused on the present.
***
Barely awake, Piper heard the door slam on the old truck. She rose and peeked out the window where she saw John backing from the drive. She slumped back in the bed, the horrible realization gripping her already. It was like this every morning. She would awake and break out in a sweat when she remembered Fellow. And she remembered him as soon as her eyes opened. Lying there for a minute, she checked her watch, swung her legs to the floor, and slipped her feet into her moccasins. She had to do something to help ease her pain, but she didn't know what to do.
Piper bundled in her robe and shuffled to the kitchen. Opening the cabinet door for a coffee cup, she saw the note from John. Going for cigarettes, be back soon, it read. Please don't go anywhere. Love, John. A penciled smiley face grinned at her. Through crusted eyes she read the note several times, closed the cabinet door without a cup, and rushed to get dressed.
***
Inside her trailer, Minerva shuffled to the kitchen, opened the fridge door, peered inside, closed it, and shuffled down the hall. She bent to her knees and opened a bottom dresser drawer, moved socks and nylons to the side, and removed a small box. Heaving to her feet, box in hand, she stooped to grab a wooly pair of socks she thought was missing before closing the drawer with her foot.
She limped down the hall, switched off the bathroom light, the last remaining light in the trailer except for the glare of the TV. Even during the day, the trailer remained dark. Minerva had always complained the windows were too small to let in the sun and the low sun of winter didn't help. She folded to sit on the couch but at the last minute changed her mind, causing her to stumble as she stood upright. She made her way to Henry's old recliner and placed the box on her lap. Minerva opened the lid, closed it, and pulled herself to her feet. The kitchen table would be better. She clicked on a light, sat down, removed all the little amber bottles, and placed each in a row. This one for nausea, this one for cramps. Some bottles dated four or more years ago. One for pain, for diarrhea, for depression...Minerva opened the one for depression and set it aside. Whose were these? She couldn't remember. One for sleep troubles. This one for—she couldn't remember. She lined them back in the box one by one, careful to set them label up. One bottle was too big to fit the way she had them arranged so she left it out. She placed the box on top of the fridge, turned, took the two bottles she had left out, switched off the light, and settled back in the recliner. The wooly socks from the drawer remained on the floor by the couch. The only light flickered from the mute TV. In the semi-darkness Minerva stared, a bottle in each hand.
She jumped at the sharp rap on the door. Lew yapped. One bottle fell to the floor and she instinctively clutched the other one. She stiffened and held her breath. Piper's voice boomed on the other side. Minerva's eyes widened but she remained still. The pounding on the door rattled the living room window, a plastic snow angel slipped to the floor. Minerva didn't blink, but stared at the unlit tree. In the deep recesses of her mind she knew why Piper was here. Her eyes fixed on a broken candy cane then roamed the darkened tree, searching for more defects. Piper screamed and beat the door.
***
"Mother." She pounded again on the front door. "I know you're in there."
"Mother," she said, pulling the door knob this way and that, "let me in!" She turned again to see Minerva's car sitting in the driveway, snow piled high on the windows. An old stray cat wandered out from behind the front tire. That damn cat. Its green eyes seemed to glow at her, its jagged teeth were bared and turned in a grimace. She had always hated that cat.
Piper heard Gloria Smith call her name from across the street but she didn't respond. "Piper!" Gloria said again. She turned and looked at the couple crossing the road and coming toward her, but continued ignoring them.
"I want to talk to you, Momma," Piper yelled, kicking the door with a soft tennis shoe. "Let me in."
Piper grabbed a loose board from the old porch, and, raising it above her head, slammed it against the door, once, twice, and almost again when she felt Mr. Smith grab the board from behind her. Gloria reached to help steady Piper but she twisted away, jumping down the steps. The Smiths broke her resolve to get inside her mother's house and she wanted to flee now, to run away. She glanced back and saw Lenny running after her, his wife not far behind. Piper made it to the street where an oncoming car missed her by inches. She heard Gloria scream and froze. Lenny grabbed her and tackled her to the ground. Piper twisted and almost overtook him even though his weight doubled hers.
Piper screamed and kicked, the dirty snow burring into her back and legs. "Let me go!" She writhed and turned. Lenny pulled her to the side of the street and she saw him double over, breathing hard.
"It's all right, Piper," he said between gulps of air. "It's all right."
***
Minerva jumped at the sound of something hitting the door. Then she heard the voices of the neighbors across the street, heard Piper's thud down the porch steps, the yelling in the street. Her palm was sweaty where she gripped the medicine bottle.
Those neighbors—she couldn't remember his name, hers was Gloria—were always the nicest people. She would wrap a fruitcake and take it to them. They'd like that. A minute later the shouting and voices stopped. Minerva rose and turned on the living room light. Scattered pills near the chair drew her attention and she cursed under her breath, kneeled, and swept them into her palms.
The hamper was overflowing, so Minerva tossed the wooly socks on a pile of clothes near the bedroom door. She turned the dial to high on the electric blanket. Lew yapped for attention but Minerva ignored her. Near the warm vent down the hall sat two empty dishes, a half full bag of dog food nearby. Minerva dragged a comb through her matted hair. The sharp pain caused her to wince and she tossed the comb back on the vanity. Her hands trembled as she brushed her teeth. She thought she heard the phone ring but she ignored it.
Buried under the quilt and blanket, Minerva noticed Lew whimpering while she rubbed her feet on the dog. She rubbed her feet harder against the small body. Lew whined and tossed. It didn't occur to her that the little dog was hungry. "Settle down, Lew," she said, tapping a big toe into the soft belly.
***
Piper turned and saw Gloria bringing a coat from inside the house. "There you go," she said, tucking it around her. After a minute, Lenny helped her to her feet where they both limped inside.
"Thank you," Piper said, accepting a hot cup of cocoa from Gloria. Her hair now combed but still wet, she sipped the cocoa on the Smith's couch, the coat still wrapped around her. It had taken her several minutes to calm herself, but now she shrunk like a child into the couch.
"I've tried calling Minerva but she's not answering," she heard Gloria say to her husband. Piper knew they had stored her mother's number years ago for a neighborhood watch program. After wrangling George's number from her, Gloria tried his number next. "She turned on the lights a minute ago, though." She looked at Piper. "How are things, honey? Any word about...?"
"No word." Piper took another sip, but her eyes went wild. "Mother knows something," she said, her voice dropping to a growl. "I know she does." She looked at the couple and saw them glance at each other.
"What's this all about?" Gloria asked.
Piper stared hard at Gloria's face. "She knows something about my son."
; At the same moment, Lenny opened the screen door. "He's here."
Piper's spine popped straight. "Who's here?" She dropped the cup to her lap and tried pulling herself off the couch.
Gloria reached her before she could stand, sitting down and hooking her arm through Piper's. "There, there," she said. "It will all be okay." She looked up to see George walking in the door.
"Piper, what are you doing?" She felt his arms around her, pulling her to her feet. She saw him look awkwardly at the Smiths then turn to her. "Let's go home now." Lenny opened the door for them. "Thank you, sir...ma'am...for all your help. I appreciate it." George wrapped his arm around her while they walked across the circular drive. Alongside them near the truck, Piper watched the Smiths while George fastened her seat belt. She was too angry to say anything, to show any gratefulness. George's co-worker climbed in the back seat.
While they passed, Piper glared at her mother's trailer.
***
After Lew had quieted down, Minerva fell asleep. An hour later, she awoke drenched in sweat. Tossing the covers off, she slipped out of bed. Lew remained curled in her spot, opening one eye to see. She stepped down the hall and lowered the dial on the wall. Thirsty, she ambled to the kitchen and turned on the light. A spider caught her eye. She grabbed the broom from the closet, knocking off the dustpan from the shelf, and dropped to her hands and knees. Spotting one between the fridge and the cabinet, Minerva growled deep in her throat. She turned the broom upside down and forced the broom handle between, frantically poking at the floor. "God damn you son of a bitch come here," she said, stabbing harder. The spider disappeared and Minerva's head bobbed to see which way it went. No spider in sight, she dropped the broom, her breath wheezing in short bursts, and leaned against the fridge door, legs splayed in front of her.
Regaining her breath, she lifted herself to the table and dropped her head on her arms. She stayed like this for a while, sobbing, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her housedress.
Minerva didn't move. Her mind snapped from one thing to another, each thought striking in and out like star bursts: of her father, Henry, Piper. Her thoughts fragmented and she tried holding on to one, then when it disappeared, tried grabbing onto another.
She thought of the last time she saw Fellow. She tried conjuring an image of him in her mind, but his face eluded her. She tried remembering details of anything about him, but that failed her too. The broken maze of her thoughts shattered when Piper sprang to mind and the contours of her mouth pointed to her chin. Piper, her daughter, was accusing her of...something.
Minerva pounded the table with her fists then shook one at the roof. Her daughter's antics had driven her crazy, she thought. How could Piper ever think she could harm Fellow? Remembering her thirst, she stood up and chose a glass, ran the tap, and swallowed a long drink. She padded to the recliner, glass in hand, where she rocked the chair until her breathing steadied.
Piper couldn't help herself. She had always stretched things out of proportion. Minerva stared again at the same broken candy cane. Piper didn't deserve Fellow being gone. No mother deserved that. Not most of them. Minerva swigged the last of the water and plinked the glass on the table. She rose and switched off the kitchen light. "I've got to forgive her," she said aloud. Minerva kept nodding while she walked. To anyone listening, it would seem she was mumbling to herself, the words grabbed by the dark walls of the hall.
Lew yapped when Minerva passed the empty food and water dishes. She turned and eyed the small animal. "Shut up dog, get to bed." Lew followed her to the room where Minerva crawled between the sheets. In afterthought she popped up and grabbed the small dog. "I'm sorry, girl," she said, kissing the wet nose. She patted the tiny head and scooted her to the end of the bed. "You can sleep by Momma tonight."
In the kitchen, the empty water glass had fallen off the edge of the table and rolled under the chair, while the TV cast shadows on the wall of the living room.
Chapter Ten
On the other side of town, Sheriff Davis debriefed his two deputies. "Now this is what we're gonna do," he told them. "Every eye in this department will be watching these two men." He scooted the scribbled names across his desk and one of the deputies picked it up. "You'll watch these two guys night and day. I want a report back as soon as possible." The deputies nodded and askeded about the men.
Davis tipped his head at the questions. "Yep, these men are registered child molesters in and around our community, dung shits that need their dicks blown off. I'll be talking with them both."
He lowered his voice, drawing in the deputies' attention. "We've talked to everyone we could from the carnival, and no one knows anything. But damn it, someone knows something from that place."
"What are the odds of finding the boy?" one deputy asked.
"Pretty slim now," the other deputy said.
Sheriff Davis slid his pen behind his ear and unsnapped his shades from the front of his shirt. "Yep, at this point, damn near zero."
***
Minerva stood at her mirror, looking at her sunken eyes and tangled hair, wondering why the television's remote control was laying on the bathroom counter. She picked it up, jumping at the sound of a knock on the door. Barking at her heels, Lew followed her down the hall. Minerva pulled open the door and Gloria Smith stood there, a cautious smile dissolving when she saw Minerva.
"Yeah, well I don't feel good," Minerva said before Gloria could speak. She looked up and saw Gloria managing the surprise on her face. "What do you want?"
"Minerva, I'm here to help if I can." Gloria straightened her back and clutched her handbag. "I know what's going on, and I feel so...."
"What do you mean you know what's going on? You've got nerve coming here." Minerva squeezed the remote in one hand and the other ran over her matted head.
She noticed Gloria shift on her feet. "I know we don't know each other very well, but I've come here to speak with you. I think I can help." She reached out and Minerva yanked her arm back, dropping the remote. She looked around her feet at the two pieces. Gloria's soft voice unnerved her and she avoided her eyes. "May I come in?"
Minerva stared, took a step back then bent to retrieve the remote and its cover. She watched Gloria glance past her at an empty TV dinner box on the floor, a stack of tissue on the small end table, and several papers scattered around. She moved and Gloria stepped inside, careful of where she placed her feet. She frowned and watched her look around, nose wrinkling at the smell. She walked a few feet into the kitchen. The trash had stacked up and crumbled around the can, leftovers spilled on the floor. Gloria stepped over the garbage for a paper towel and stooped to swipe what looked like jelly off the tile. "You don't need to be cleaning my house," Minerva said, but she was thankful. She turned and stepped into the living room.
Minerva planted herself in Henry's chair, folded her hands in her lap, and said nothing else. Instead, she watched the tall, graceful woman straighten her trash can, the long, gray pony tail swinging over her shoulder while she bent. She hadn't talked much with Gloria. She and Lenny had been their neighbors for years, but the only words exchanged were between Henry and Lenny. Maybe three times in the last ten years Minerva had made them a fruit cake, usually because she was feeling especially neighborly. She would send it over with Henry or one of the children, saying she was too tired to go herself.
Minerva watched Gloria look around as if to straighten something else, but stopped herself. "May I have a seat?" she asked. Not receiving an answer, she moved to the couch and crossed one leg over the other. Two manicured hands smoothed her skirt. Minerva thought her fingernails were pretty. She loved that shade of polish, like lustrous pearls. "I know you may not want to talk with me," she said, nodding Minerva's way. "But I do want to help. We got off to a bad start, but that was so long ago, don't you think?"
She squinted at Gloria. "I don't remember any trouble between us."
Gloria uncrossed her leg. "Minerva, please hear me out. I know you're torn up about your grandson.
I'm here for you if you ever want to talk, or need anything at all. I know we haven't been the best of neighbors to each other, but I do feel bad about what you're going through."
Minerva's quick laugh startled Gloria, and she laughed harder when she saw her jump. "What can you do?" Minerva leaned back in the chair, pulled a side lever and a footrest tumbled out. "Listen to that creak," she said, poking the armrest. "Henry always said he'd fix that creak, but never got around to it." Her eyes narrowed and she continued poking the armrest. "He was out with his lover instead." Minerva's eyes shot to her neighbor's face like something slipped from her lips without her permission.
Gloria looked shocked. "I'm sorry," she said, standing. "I understand what you're saying, and I don't mean to interfere." She collected her purse and opened the pocket for the keys. "I appreciate you letting me in your home, Minerva. Now I'll just be on my way." She tied the belt on her purple wool coat, pulled gloves from a pocket and stretched them on her fingers. Minerva watched the attractive lady smooth the wrinkles on the gloves. She wanted to tell Gloria she liked the black framed glasses she wore, but didn't.
"Well, hang on," Minerva said. "What did you come here for again?" Minerva closed the footrest and began rocking the chair.
"May I stay?"
"All righty," Minerva said. Gloria rested her purse on the couch and removed her gloves. When she settled, Minerva caught her eye. "Sorry I told you I don't need anything. I appreciate all your concern."
"You know, I know what's going on, and I feel for you and your family. Piper was so torn up the other day when she beat on your door like that." Gloria's tone caused Minerva to look into her eyes, as if to absorb the kindness found in them. "I would like to be your friend. I think it's about time, after all these years."
***
A candlelight vigil was held on the fifth day of Fellow's absence. People of the town gathered inside Meadow Baptist Church: the preacher and his wife, the mayor and his family, friends and acquaintances of the Johnson's, people they never met, each holding a small white candle. The light cast a warm glow around the circle while the voices sang praises to God, thanked him for his mercy, and asked for Fellow's return. But George wondered where God's mercy was when Fellow disappeared. Piper and George wept and the preacher placed his hands on their shoulders and said, "In the name of the Lord, release the pain from this couple so they can get on with their lives, but not give up the search of their beloved son. With God's help, the boy will return and we'll all praise God. Yes Jesus, Your Holiness shines on us, gives us life, forgives our sins. Yes Jesus, in the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit...please return this precious boy to his humble parents. Amen." George watched people gradually open their misted eyes, and accepted hugs or pats on the back from them.
Minerva Day Page 11