More Than Words Volume 4

by Linda Lael Miller

  She gazed at me in a way that made me wonder if she’d heard, then gestured at my feet. “What do you think?”

  I wiggled my toes. “Oh, my…I like it.” Me, with bright crimson toenails. Henry would have died.

  A short while later, just before we parted for our beds, I impulsively hugged Laura Jean and said, “You know, the LTD breakin’ down has really given you a break from all the struggle. While you’re here, you just forget everything and rest. A little rest works wonders.”

  Later, in my own bed, I found myself worrying about Laura Jean and the kids and their future, as if somehow I had taken over the job for her. I wondered about her sister and mother with whom she was intending to live. I don’t know why, but I had formed a picture in my mind of slovenly, uncaring women. This was simply silly. I knew nothing about them. But somehow I felt that if they had been all that helpful, they would have already been over here to get her and take her home. Patsy would have done that for me, and she was not my own blood kin. At least one of my brothers would have done it.

  It was within me to ask her about her sister and mother. I thought of discreet and maneuvering ways to go about this. I also imagined asking her to stay with me. But something held me back from that. I thought that Laura Jean would not want it. She was a very independent woman. Distant was perhaps a better word.

  And maybe I was distant in my own way, too.

  What I would be taking on flashed before my eyes and caused me to shake my head.

  With a large sigh, I took up one of the books on autism and read long into the night.

  PART

  THREE

  Laura Jean and the children remained with me for another day and a half. Laura Jean seemed to take my advice and to relax and enjoy herself, and to enjoy time with her children.

  Monte came each day, too. The first day he just came, but that evening he said, “Do you want me to come tomorrow?” and I replied, “Have I not been feeding you?”

  I left the produce stand closed, did not even miss going. Although apparently the open stand was missed, as two customers stopped and blew their horns until Monte went down, and three neighbors actually telephoned to make certain I was okay, and came over to get things right out of the garden.

  Voices rang out, the screen door banged. Laura Jean cautioned Roline to close the door because of the air-conditioning, and I told her not to worry, I liked the fresh air. I made every one of my special quick-and-easy food dishes. I was delighted to see Monte’s appreciative eating, and hopeful to put some weight on Laura Jean.

  The children fed Bob watermelon and rode him again. This time they rode in the corral, each by themselves, with Monte holding a guide rope. Cody got pretty good at making the kissing sound to make the horse go. Then Roline used the kissing sound when she took Cody by the hand, and he in turn used it when he took his mother’s hand. I used it to move Monte in playing, and pretty soon we were all using the kissing sound for one thing or another.

  Cody seemed drawn to Monte, going over to the pump house to wander around while Monte worked on the water well. We next discovered that Monte had given Cody two large bolts with nuts that he repeatedly screwed and unscrewed. I was a little concerned about Cody possibly putting the nuts into his mouth, and of course he did, so I would not leave him while he was occupied with the nuts and bolts. Then Laura Jean hauled out his case of toys and succeeded in getting him involved with playing Lego.

  From the kitchen, leaving the door wide open, I watched mother and son, and Roline, too, playing on the porch floor. It was as if I were pasting their image in the photo album of my mind.

  Laura Jean and the children helped me pick green beans. Then we girls sat on the porch and snapped them, while Cody made shapes with them and his buckeye seeds. I watched this with some amazement. I went down to the porch floor and began to turn green beans into alphabet letters, spelling Cody’s name.

  “C…O…D…Y,” I said, pointing to each letter. “Cody.”

  “Co-dy,” he said, much to my amazement, and, I think, to his own delight.

  With Roline’s help, Laura Jean and I used Monte’s little computer to check out the Autism Speaks Web site, from the brochure that Patsy had brought. This site provided a wealth of information and links to other sites that told about various therapies and support groups for autistic children and their parents. There was information about a special diet, about play therapies, about speech therapies, about using animals and music. There was information on research studies and breakthroughs and how to get help.

  “Look at this…look at this!” we said to one another.

  We read all that we could until our eyes were bleary. Laura Jean took notes. I saw the energy seeming to seep back into her, straightening her spine and filling her eyes with hope.

  LATE THE FOLLOWING morning, Red brought the repaired LTD.

  I was mentally engaged in planning what I could serve for lunch that would follow the special diet we had read about. This would require no wheat and no milk, the staples of Cody’s diet, but I was determined to cook up something nutritious that the boy would eat. This was a challenge that thrilled me.

  All of a sudden, I heard a car honking. I stepped out on the porch and saw the LTD coming up the drive. My heart fell to my toes. I had never expected Red to be early. Laura Jean had called him the previous evening to check on the progress with the LTD, and Red had told her that it would be tonight at the earliest. I had convinced myself that he would not have the car ready until Monday.

  If I could have caught him before anyone knew, I would have told him to go away and come back on the morrow. But Laura Jean heard the horn, too, and came running.

  I suggested strongly that Laura Jean consider waiting to leave until the following morning. “You’ll be fresh then.”

  But, where she had seemed to follow my every word before, this time she was adamant about getting on with her trip. She straight away began throwing things into her suitcase and plastic bags. “I can easily reach my sister’s house before dark.”

  It came out of me then. “You can stay here awhile. Just because the car is fixed doesn’t mean you have to run off.”

  She shook her head. “I have to get the kids enrolled in school. That could take a while for Cody. I need to get started.”

  “You could stay here,” I said.

  She looked at me. I gazed at her.

  Then, “I can’t. Back there we’ll be with family.” She looked away, shaking her head. “And all Billy’s family is there. He may come home.”

  “Oh,” I said. Of course…of course. This was how it was supposed to be.

  I watched her, saw the renewed energy and purpose in her arms and legs. Here with me she had gotten her second wind. I told myself that I was glad.

  Turning, I went to the attic and brought down two suitcases—the hunter-green tweed ones. They just looked like Laura Jean, as if they had been sitting up there all this time, waiting for her.

  “You’ve already given me too much. No.” She held up a hand and turned resolutely away.

  “Honey, these are just rotting up there in the attic, not doin’ anybody any good.” I helped her to pack.

  CODY SAW THE PACKING and got upset. He began looking for certain belongings, which we were not quick enough to supply, so he threw an enormous hissy fit. My heart went out to him. He was as reluctant to get back into the car as he had been to get out of it on the day he came here.

  Roline cried quietly and said, “Oh, Miss Ellie, I will miss you.”

  I hugged her and told her that we would see them again.

  “When?” she said, in her factual manner.

  “When your mother gets time to bring you back someday. Or when Monte and I come to see you.” I included Monte without question.

  Laura Jean and I hurried through goodbyes. She had one foot in the car.

  I held on to the door and said, “You take care of yourself.” I had the compulsion to pack up encouragement in a Ziploc bag for her to take
with her, since I would not be there to oversee her life. In far more words than necessary, I said things like “You are a good mother, and your children are doin’ just fine. You must believe in yourself. Do not lose confidence in yourself, because that is the only way you can get through.”

  Finally, at the last, I bent to the window and said directly and straight, “There will always be room for you and the children here.”

  She nodded, bit her bottom lip, shifted into gear and started off.

  I stood beside Monte and waved as the LTD headed down the drive, until, all of a sudden, hardly aware of my actions, I turned and strode to the garden, grabbing a hoe from the fence as I passed. I tore into hoeing a row of green beans. The thought that went through my mind was: Well, that’s that…that’s that.

  I saw Monte’s shoes first. I looked up at him.

  He said, a little uncertainly, “You makin’ lunch?”

  Struck deeply by what I perceived as his infinite care and patience, I nodded and said, “Yes. Come on in.”

  I had hamburgers frying and was slicing tomatoes when Monte came over and drew me against his chest and patted my back. I almost cried, but instead said, “Well, that’s that…do you want cheese on your hamburger?”

  LAURA JEAN CALLED THAT evening to say that they had safely reached her sister’s house. She said it had been an easy drive. Then, “Roline wants to say hey.”

  “Miss Ellie?”

  “Yes, honey. So you are there with your aunt and gramma.”

  “Yep. They have a swimmin’ pool and a computer.”

  “Very good!”

  “And a dog, but he’s old and barks a lot.”

  I could hear the yipping in the background. “It might take him a little while to get used to you.”

  “Yeah…oh…here’s my mama…I love you, Miss Ellie.”

  “I love you, too, honey.” I thought my throat would close.

  “It’s me again. Well, just wanted you to know we’re here. And to thank you for all you did. I will be sending money soon to pay you back.”

  I closed my eyes at that, then said, “Could I say somethin’ to Cody?”

  “I don’t know. Let me see.” I heard her call him to her, heard her instructing him. “Go ahead.”

  “Cody? Hi. It’s Miss Ellie.” I waited, not really expecting a response, wondering if he knew my voice. I recalled that he surely knew how to use the telephone; he had called 9-1-1.

  There came a sound. I grinned. It was the kissing sound. And next I heard him say what sounded like Bob, and Cody, and maybe repeating what I could hear his mother say to him, which was, “Hi, Miss Ellie.”

  “Hi, Cody.”

  Then Laura Jean was back on the line. I said, “Thanks for callin’. I’m glad you got there safe. You take care now.”

  I clicked off the receiver and gathered my frayed self, because Monte was still there and watching me.

  One really nice thing about Monte was that he never once tried to remind me that all along the children had just been passing through.

  I HAD FORGOTTEN TO RETURN to Laura Jean her books on autism. I found them that night on my bedside table, when I took my cup of tea to bed. I would need to get her address, as there was going to be a small box of articles to send to her. I had found some of the children’s clothes in the dryer and a shoe underneath the dresser.

  Settling myself in the bed with my accustomed nightly tea, I opened one of the books to where I had left off the night before. I read the words but did not comprehend. I found myself staring into space, scenes from the past three days playing across my mind. I listened to the empty silence, and yet it was a different silence than it had been before Laura Jean and the children had come. Now the silence seemed to hold echoes of their presence.

  I knew that somehow we were all different. We had touched one another’s lives. I did not know how this difference would play out, but I knew that it would. I fell asleep thinking a lot of thoughts about this.

  The next morning, before sunrise, I went to the kitchen to begin the day. When I reached in the drawer for a dish towel, I remembered the calendar. I slowly brought it out, realizing that I had not thought about it since the day Laura Jean and the children had come.

  For long seconds I gazed at the X marks on the squares, and the empty squares where I had stopped marking.

  With suddenness, I shoved the drawer closed and tossed the calendar in the trash. And that’s when I finally cried.

  Even as the sun came up, the birds began singing, cicadas chirped in the bushes just outside the porch, and I turned on the radio, the house seemed to echo with silence. You were alone before, and you knew you would be alone again, I told myself impatiently.

  I tried to pull strength from within myself and did not answer the phone when it rang and I saw it was Monte. Somehow seeing him would make the situation worse. With every intention of going to the produce stand, I ended up getting in my car and going to church. Despite my normal preference for solitude, I was drawn to people. I actually attended service in my overalls, with no makeup except lipstick.

  It had not occurred to me that people would ask about Laura Jean, but the instant I saw Patsy, I was reminded. I had to explain to her about them leaving. Then Pastor Gene made a big point of telling me that the very next time I have anybody in need stop on the highway to be sure to call the church. “Here’s my card. You just call when you know anyone in need. That’s what we’re here for.”

  I told him that I would, but that I just did not think such a thing was going to be any sort of regular occurrence. It seemed to me that he was a little bereft of people to help and he was drumming up business.

  “I’ll bet your house is really empty now,” Patsy said.

  “They were only there barely three days.” I downplayed it, uncomfortable for anyone to see into my heart.

  But Patsy came back with “Well, honey, Jesus was in the grave for just three days, and everything was changed.”

  I had no reply for that.

  The singing had already started when Monte came slipping into the pew beside me. That blew all talk about the girl and children I had taken in out of the water, and people then shifted to speculating about me and Monte.

  PATSY WAS RIGHT. THREE DAYS could make a lot of difference. I had set out to help three people who I thought needed it, but I now saw that I had been helped far more. I had been as closed into my world as Cody was in his. Laura Jean and the children had succeeded in bringing me out. I could see this change playing out in my life.

  Yes, I was out now, but not especially happy about it. Change is hard. I felt I was moving along in life, but I had no idea of where I was going.

  I thought all of that as I drove home from church that day and found myself turning into the cemetery. I stood looking at Henry’s grave, then bent to pull some weeds. I listened to hear his familiar voice inside of me. It did not come. I was a little sad, but more accepting, and even a little glad. When it is time to let something go, it is a relief.

  I was walking back to my car when Monte drove up. “You followin’ me?”

  “Nope,” he said. “I was drivin’ home and saw your car. You wanna go for a burger?”

  “Are you payin’?”

  “You bet.”

  While we were having lunch, Monte said, “You look real good in those overalls, Ellie.” He was such a little boy in his efforts to lift my spirits. I’m sure it would have surprised him to know that it was this sweet fact of him, and not losing Laura Jean and the children, that almost made me cry.

  I reached out and took his hand. Monte had been beside me a long time. “I’m sure glad you’re still here,” I said, and saw the surprise on his face.

  I’M SURE IT WAS NOT A coincidence that Wednesday morning I awoke with a surge of energy and clear idea of where I was going in the second half of my life. It was the third day since Laura Jean and the children had left.

  At the post office, I mailed the books and items Laura Jean had left, then
walked in the sunshine down the block to the library, where I checked out every book they had on autism and occupational and behavioral therapy. There were only four. The library was small.

  I began to read while at the produce stand, during lunch and at bedtime. I had Monte go and pick me out a new computer and install it for me in the office that I had barely entered in years. I spent long hours on the Internet researching and learning about autism and other neurological disorders. The garden suffered neglect, and Monte, of course, began to take care of it, along with everything else around the place. In exchange, I continued to cook and feed him, more lavishly than ever. Some evenings we sat a bit on the porch and I would tell him all I was learning, while he listened or dozed.

  By the next week, I called Patsy and asked if there would be a position for me as a special education assistant. I was not yet qualified to be a full teacher in the field, and I was not certain exactly what I was going to pursue, but I was ready to begin.

  Patsy said, in so loud a voice I had to hold the phone from my ear, “Oh my gosh! I cannot believe that you called right now! Look how things always work out. Miranda Sykes just up and quit. She left her husband and has gone to Memphis. You start the first day of school.”

  We arranged to go to the mall the following day. I needed to get a wardrobe. During our drive to the city, I dared to say, “I think I want to go back to school to get a special education teaching certificate. How will I do this?”

  “Well, you will start right over at the junior college. And the school district may pick up some of the tab.” Patsy went on about the various degrees, so many new since I had been in school. She kept saying, “And then you can…and after that…” She mapped out my life and made it sound so good and promising that I let her go on with it. My future, which had been a blank, was now being drawn in full color.

  That evening, when Monte came for supper, I met him wearing a flowing, flowery rayon dress. He gave me a long whistle and made a great to-do of looking me over. Then he cast a puzzled frown. “I still can’t see your legs.”