by Tish Cohen
Then he thought of Elisabeth. There would be no coffee, no paper for her. By now, twenty-three minutes after her daughter called to say good-bye, she would be panic-stricken, unsure what this unplanned, unapproved weekend trip would mean.
The plane lurched forward, nudging the passengers back against their seats. As it lumbered along the runway, the engines let out a mighty roar and picked up speed. The plane lifted off the tarmac, and Victor watched the ground hurl itself farther and farther away. He whispered toward the vanishing city, “I’m sorry, Elisabeth.”
Thirty-Four
The day had started out rough. Lila had woken to find Victor gone. He’d been quiet since his visit to the doctor a few days prior, though he’d insisted nothing conclusive had come from the appointment. Just a series of tests and an assurance the office would call him with results within a couple of weeks. A quick tally of his footwear revealed his bedroom slippers had disappeared with him. So had the baby blue pajamas he’d worn to bed. She’d checked the property, the neighbors’ properties, and was about to get in the car when she’d stopped, sensing he might be close by. She wandered to the end of the street where there was a path carved through a precipice, almost completely obscured by half-dead bracken. It was the route the local children used as a shortcut to the elementary school. She followed it, ducking under branches in spots, and, sure enough, there he was.
Sitting on a smooth flat rock in the clearing where the more rebellious sixth graders used to sneak cigarettes.
His back was to her, but even in his baggy pajamas she could see he was tense, sitting on his hands the way he was, rocking back and forth as if trying not to vomit. Shoulders hunched, he looked around him, chattering nervously to an audience that didn’t exist.
As she moved closer, she could make out his words. “Articulated skeleton, miniature and life-size. Latex tourniquet in three fashion colors. Adhesive bandages in flexform fabric…”
An inventory of products available through RoyalCrest Medical Distributors. For no one in particular. Keeping him calm, she supposed. She started toward him then stopped. There, in the bushes, relaxed as could be, lay Slash, panting contentedly and staring at Victor. It wasn’t until the animal saw Lila that he stood up, then dropped forward into a stretch, and trotted off into the trees.
It hardly seemed possible. The old dog had been watching out for Victor? Coyote as hero—just like the myths said. Stunned, she stared at the place Slash had lain and mouthed the words “Thank you.”
If it hadn’t been her mother’s birthday, she wouldn’t have left Victor alone. But by the time they arrived home, he had settled down and seemed more himself. Lila locked the doors, hid the car keys, and climbed into the Toyota with her mother and Kieran.
Elisabeth wanted to celebrate her birthday at Disneyland. A day at the “Happiest Place on Earth” with her two girls. Lila wasn’t sure what was more dizzying—the hordes of blond people speaking a language she guessed was Swedish or maybe German, the pastel-colored shops that looked as if they were made of cookie dough and peppermint icing, or the impeccably clean asphalt on Disney’s Main Street. They had been inside the theme park a full hour before Lila spied a piece of trash, and even then, a cast member came by to sweep it up before Lila could confirm it wasn’t just a fallen scarf.
Now Kieran stopped in front of a pretty little building with scalloped trim. Her cotton candy drooped sideways as she stared at the sign, which read DISNEYLAND BABY CARE CENTER. “What’s that? They keep babies in there?”
Lila smiled. “You change their diapers in there. Also, it’s a place kids go if they get lost.”
Kieran lit up. “You mean Zachary John Miller? Christiana del Toro? Joanna Vicenze? Frederick and Jackson Bur-roughs…?”
“No.” Lila stopped her. “Sadly, those kids have much worse trouble than getting lost for a few minutes at Disneyland.”
“If only it were that simple. If only every parent whose baby has gone missing could come to this little cottage and find them. God.” Elisabeth reached out to stroke her older daughter’s cheek. “How different life would have been for me.”
“Actually, if you’d come at the right moment, that Saturday, you’d have found me here.”
Elisabeth stood still, only her hair twisting in the soft wind. Her eyes traveled over the hut. “You were right here. In this little house.” She sunk down onto a bench. “If only I’d known.”
“We came here straight from the airport. Later, when it was getting dark, I ran off to find the bathroom and got lost in the crowd. A Disney employee brought me here to wait.”
“So while I was calling the police, crying and screaming and throwing up, here you were.”
“Trying to call my mother.”
Her lips parted like a dying fish desperate for oxygen.
The Baby Care Center on Main Street had seemed surprisingly small, even to an eight-year-old. She’d waited on a wicker chair, swinging her legs as she watched a mother and infant step outside and rush into the crowd. Delilah slipped off her new Disney sunhat and dropped it onto the floor.
An employee sat down beside her. The woman didn’t appear to be much older than a teenager, with her peachy lip gloss, tanned face, and long brown hair pulled into a ponytail. Her breath smelled like cherry cough drops. “Hi there, honey. What’s your name?”
“Delilah Lovett.”
She showed her teeth. “Nice. You can call me Janice. Can you tell me who brought you to the park today? Was it your mom?”
Delilah shook her head. “My dad.”
“Does your dad have a cell phone, by any chance?”
“He used to. But he threw it in the garbage.”
She laughed. “I sometimes feel like doing that with mine. Well I can assure you, your father is probably looking for you right now. And the first cast member he approaches will tell Daddy to come straight here, so you’re going to be just fine.” She shook Lila’s knee to show her just how fine she would be. “Does that sound good?”
“Do you think we could call my mum in Toronto? My stomach’s sore and she knows the right medicine.”
Janice thought for a moment. “I don’t know. That’s Canada, right? Long distance. Let me just ask someone.”
After a little while, an older man poked his head into the room and said his name was Richard. He considered the phone call for a moment, then shook his head. “I have no problem with making the call. But here we have her father, poor soul, who’s taken his daughter on the trip of a lifetime and lost her. Won’t go over too well at home. Let’s give the guy a break, see if he doesn’t show in a few more minutes. Might prevent a whole lot of trouble for him.” He left the room.
Victor was taking too long to come. The blackened waters of the river flashed in Delilah’s mind. Her father was probably panicking at that moment, certain that she fell in and drowned. In his frenzy, he probably forgot she was a great swimmer, that if she did fall in, she’d only paddle around and climb right back out again, stand on the riverbank, and ask him if he could buy her a dry sweatshirt.
“Please can I call my mum now?” Delilah asked.
Janice looked around to make sure Richard was gone, then leaned close. “Okay. Come and we’ll call your mother and tell her we have you. Safe and sound.”
Delilah leaped off her seat and followed. Janice motioned for her to sit down in another chair in another room. This chair leaned back with you and spun. Delilah whirled around with excitement until Janice pulled a phone onto Delilah’s lap and put the receiver in her hand. She pressed it to her ear and started to dial.
Just then, Richard appeared, a big grin on his face. “Guess who’s here?” He stepped aside to reveal her father standing in the doorway. Victor rushed forward and scooped her up, pressing his daughter into his chest so hard she could barely breathe.
“Don’t ever wander away from Daddy,” he said into Delilah’s ear. “Promise me you’ll never, ever leave Daddy again. Not even for a second.”
The phone dr
opped to the floor with a clatter.
As Richard led them to the door, Janice called out, “Wait!” She stood behind her desk with one hand over the phone receiver. Could Elisabeth be on the phone? Delilah wriggled out of her father’s arms and tore back into the other room.
But Janice just smiled. “Y’all will want to go straight toward Sleeping Beauty’s Castle to see the fireworks.”
Now Elisabeth shaded her eyes from the sun, her caramel skin blanched with emotion. “So close.”
“So close.”
Kieran was growing bored with all the memories. She leaned against Lila and whimpered, “I heard there are black widows in California. Are they here?”
“People live here their whole lives and don’t see a black widow,” Elisabeth said. “I’ve been here a few times in my life—before either of you were born—and I’ve never seen one.”
“They’re more poisonous than a rattlesnake,” said Kieran. “I saw it on TV.” She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her sticky hands. What was left of her cotton candy dropped to the ground. “I want to go home.”
“Home?” said Elisabeth, scooping up the candy and stuffing it into the plastic bag she held. “We’ve barely been here an hour. Who wants to go over to Tom Sawyer Island?”
THE REST OF the day passed in a blur of arachnid-laced misery. Every ride or attraction seemed to be the perfect hiding place for a deadly spider. Pirates of the Caribbean, Tarzan’s Treehouse, the Jungle Cruise, Thunder Mountain. Kieran couldn’t enjoy any of them, so busy was she trying to ensure a deadly spider wouldn’t scuttle across her bare toes.
By the time they got out of the Haunted Mansion, it was dusk and Kieran was exhausted. They waited in a long line for food, then Lila and Kieran trailed behind their mother toward a table that was being emptied of a group of giggling preteens wearing Mickey ears.
Kieran bit into her burger and looked around, her gaze resting on the T-shirt of a brawny young man at the next table. On his back, just below the strawberry blond curls at the base of his neck, was a small red maple leaf. “Look. Canada.”
Elisabeth smiled. “It’s what Canadians do, you know. Wear the flag when they’re traveling. So people will treat them well.” She leaned over to tap the man on the shoulder.
“Mum, leave him,” said Lila. “He’s trying to eat his dinner.”
Too late. The man turned around and, when asked if he was from Canada, he nodded, his mouth full. “Toronto.”
“Really? We are too!” said Elizabeth.
His plumpish female companion, sunburned and cheery, leaned across the table to shake Elisabeth’s hand. As she did so, Lila noticed she also wore the flag shirt. “I’m Kate. And this is Tony. Or Doc Brock, as his patients say.”
Elisabeth introduced herself and her daughters, her smile trapping the tip of her tongue between her teeth, her fingers caressing her jawbone, when she discovered Tony worked out of St. Michael’s Hospital, a stone’s throw from Cabbagetown. Kate and Tony, recently married, had just moved to the Danforth area, to a funky row house in Greektown. After a brief conversation about the sunshine in Los Angeles, the frigid late-autumn air back home, and the ups and downs of converting to American dollars, all talk turned Disney.
“Have you been on the teacups?” asked Kate, short brown hair blowing back from her round face. “That’s where we’re headed next. Though I haven’t been since I was a kid. You should try them.”
“No way,” said Lila. “I’m not a fan of spinning.”
“Kate’s a big talker.” Tony pointed at his wife with a French fry. “She’ll never get on the teacups when she sees how fast they twirl. And I’m not sure I should sit next to her if she does.”
“How about this, funnyman?” said Kate. “I go on teacups with you and you agree to Space Mountain.”
He waved his hand above his food. “I’m not getting flung around in the dark after this meal. No way.”
“Then we may have reached an impasse,” said Kate.
“Kieran is dying to go on the teacups, aren’t you, doll?” said Elisabeth.
Kieran nodded. “With my sister.”
The couple broke into a collective “aww” at this, but Lila put a stop to it. “Sorry, Kieran. I’ve been on it once and vowed never to do it again.”
When Kieran crossed her arms and slumped in her seat, Elisabeth slapped the table. “I have an idea. Why don’t you go on it with Tony after we eat? Delilah and I will take Kate and meet the two of you at Sleeping Beauty’s Castle. Right at the gates. Then we can all watch the fireworks together.” She leaned over and nudged her suntanned shoulder against Tony’s, her hair trailing across his arm as she sat straight again, giggling. “We’ll make an evening of it.”
Tony took a moment to consider this. He pushed his hands through his curly hair and looked at his wife. “I suppose that could work. What do you think, Kate?”
“Then it’s all set,” said Elisabeth, not giving Kate a chance to reply. “That teacup line might even be long enough that we big girls can sit over a glass of Chardonnay, if we can find a place that serves in here. And don’t you worry, Tony, we’ll bring you a nice cold beer.”
“Mum,” Lila whispered.
“I’m so glad we bumped into you. Like kismet.” Elisabeth winked at Tony, seemingly unaware of Kate, who was no longer smiling.
It wasn’t because Kate was reaching for her jacket. Nor was it Kieran’s obvious displeasure at being handed off to Tony. It was Elisabeth and her willingness to dump her youngest child with a stranger because he had a red leaf the size of an animal cookie on his shirt and an MD license in his wallet. “That’s okay, Mum,” Lila said. “I’ll take Kieran on the teacups.”
“But that’s silly. Tony is headed there anyway. And if you’d rather, you and Kate can go on Space Mountain. I don’t mind waiting.”
But Kate was already getting up, tugging on Tony’s sleeve. He stood up, guzzling the remainder of his soda under Kate’s stern glare. “You know,” he said, “we might not head over there just yet. Probably best if we part ways right here. Really nice meeting all of you, though.”
Of course, thought Lila. Not only was it weird to be trusted with a stranger’s child, but Elisabeth had been presumptuous and manipulative and downright flirtatious.
“Okay then,” Elisabeth said. “Lovely to meet you.”
Kate and Tony mumbled good-byes and hurried away.
“Did you see the rock on her finger?” said Elisabeth, tucking away her burger. “Definitely pays to marry a doctor.”
KIERAN FELL ASLEEP halfway through her meal, her head resting on Lila’s beaded handbag, whitish hair fluttering in the soft evening breeze. Inside the toppled purse, being fondled by strands of hair, was a turquoise box with a tiny silver bow.
“What’s that?” Elisabeth grinned mischievously and looked at Lila, her mouth dropping open into a big smile. “Is that for me? For my birthday?”
“Maybe we should wait.” Lila slid her bag off the table, in no mood to be doling out gifts. “Open it at home.”
“Are you kidding? I could never wait that long!” Her mother pulled out the box and set it on her lap. “You know what the last present you gave me was?”
Lila shook her head.
“A painted wall plaque with your handprint in it for Mother’s Day. It’s hanging in my bedroom. You signed the back LOVE, DELILAH, MAY 1996. Do you remember?”
“Kind of. I’m not sure.”
Elisabeth undid the ribbon and tore into the little package as excited as a child. She held up the turquoise box and pried off the lid. Her eyes flashed when she saw the bracelet.
“Oh, sweetheart, it’s beautiful.”
“Try it on. See if it fits.”
“This must have cost a fortune.”
She shrugged. “Not really. I got lucky.”
Elisabeth slipped it on to her wrist and held it up to the lights shining down from the ceiling. “You remembered my story?” She reached out and smoothed Lila’s hair. “It
’s not a necklace, but still. I love it. I won’t take it off for anything in the world.”
Thirty-Five
They were surrounded by undressed Lilas. Lila birthmark, blistered heel, and left breast slightly smaller than right. Under that, Lila gluteus maximus, deltoid, latissimus dorsi. Lila knuckles, beneath that lay Lila underneath, Lila proximal phalanx, Lila humerus right and left, Lila sacrum. Behind those, more twisted together, less visible to the naked eye, was a tangle of fallopian tubes, esophagus, and perforated soul. All captured for eternity in graphite, ink, oil, acrylic, and, yes, even Magic Marker.
When she’d been alone with Adam, the long, escapist art sessions had seemed anything but raunchy. They’d been tiny jewels, these afternoons, just the two of them. But now, standing in his studio, introducing her mother to him while surrounded by wall-to-wall evidence of their closeness, the sweetness was flattened somehow. Lila wished she’d thought to introduce them at a Starbucks. A gas station. Anywhere but here.
“Nice,” Elisabeth suppressed a smile as she assessed a delicate graphite rendering of her daughter’s breast and shoulder.
Lila remembered this one well. It was drawn on a rainy afternoon, and Adam had set up his stool closer than usual. So close she could smell his toothpaste, his lemony shampoo. She’d been able to study him as he worked, the way he chewed on the inside of one cheek when he was focused. It was the first time she’d wanted to kiss him. She might have too, but Adam’s sister had come home with a new rug for the living room and needed them to bring it in from the car. Once the furniture had been moved and the rug positioned and the beer poured, the moment was gone.
The electricity of that afternoon wasn’t lost on Elisabeth. She looked at Lila and arched her brow.
“Nothing like a wash of natural light for painting skin, hmm?”
Lila nodded. “I thought you’d appreciate his talent.”
Elisabeth looked him over. She was dressed in a teal sundress, one that gathered tight across the bust and tied at the shoulder with spaghettini straps, one of which had slipped clear down to the crook of her arm. Elisabeth did nothing to adjust it. “I do.”