by Jackie Lynn
The man blew out a breath and scratched his chin again. “I don’t know,” he said, drawing out the words. “I think asking a lot of questions about the past doesn’t bring about any answers; it just causes more questions.”
Rose leaned against the counter. The sun was shining through the window and she could see the river from where she stood. “Nothing wrong with questions,” she noted. “I’ve learned that.”
The man grinned, softening a bit. “You sound just like my granddaughter,” he responded.
Rose laughed.
“You have children?” he asked.
Rose hadn’t been asked that question in a long time. “No,” she replied, and gave no further answer.
The man decided not to press her. “Well, the wife is going to do what she wants to do anyway. It doesn’t matter what I think,” he added. “After all, we’re here now and we might as well do what we set out to do. We’ll head up north and maybe she’ll find something that makes her feel better.”
“I think you’re wrong about that,” Rose said.
The man appeared a bit confused.
“I think it matters a lot about what you think,” she explained. “And I think that you must love your wife and granddaughter a lot to follow through on this. And I think you’ll find that the fact you’re willing to help her ask her questions will turn out to be the most important answer your wife gets.”
Rose reached behind her and got her cup of coffee. She noticed how it had grown cold since she had engaged in the conversation. She raised the cup. “You sure you don’t want a cup to go?” she asked.
“Nah,” he replied. “I had aplenty. I guess I better get back to the rig.”
“Anything else I can help you with?” Rose asked.
“Well, since you asked, I might pose one question to you. Where’s the county courthouse around here?”
“Downtown West Memphis,” Rose replied. “Which office you looking for and I’ll look them up in the phone book, tell you exactly where it is?”
The man shook his head. “I don’t even know,” he answered. “I got a question about the state of Arkansas, child and family services would answer it, I guess.” He folded his arms across his chest. He waited.
“Well, what’s the question? Maybe I can help you figure out who to ask.” Rose was curious.
“We’re trying to figure out if the state will tell you who your birth parents are, trying to find out if they’ll tell you who gave you away.”
Rose made a humming noise. She had never thought of that question before. She knew she didn’t have the answer. “Well, that’s a new one for me,” she admitted. “But if you want me to, I can certainly find out for you,” she added. “I’ll make a few calls and let you know something when you get back.”
The man smiled. “I’d appreciate that. Well, I better run. Kathryn’s probably wondering what happened to me. We got a lot to do before we head out.”
Rose nodded as the man opened the door to leave.
“It’s been nice talking to you,” he noted. He turned around to face her again. “By the way, how did you get so smart about married folks?” he asked. “I noticed you don’t wear a ring.”
Rose looked down at her finger. She had been without her wedding band for almost two years. She shook her head and glanced back up at the man standing at the door. “I used to be married,” she replied. “And I’m not so smart about it,” she added with a confessional tone.
He stood in the doorway and grinned. “You expect it would have been different if he had let you ask your questions?”
“I expect it would have been different if he had asked his own,” she replied. “But then, I don’t know that anything would have changed no matter what questions we would have asked. Truth is, we’re both better off not married to each other.”
The man seemed to think about the response. He looked in her direction and nodded his head. Then he lifted his hand and waved, turned, and walked out the door.
Rose watched as he headed down the driveway toward the river sites. She walked over and threw out the cup of cold coffee down the sink and poured herself another cup. She wondered about the man from Texas and his wife, wondered what they would find in Walnut Ridge, wondered about the questions that the woman was asking. She thought about the man’s willingness to help his wife revisit her past and she was warmed by the man’s tenderness.
She was refilling her cup, considering the conversation she had just had when she remembered the phone call she had received before the man came into the office. She hurried back over to the desk and dialed Rhonda’s cell phone. Rose wasn’t sure where Rhonda was, but she assumed that she would have her cell phone.
Rhonda answered on the second ring.
“Rhonda, it’s Rose.”
“Well, good morning. What’s up?” she asked. “You in the office?”
“Yeah,” Rose replied. “Mary is still with her sister.”
“Right.”
“Hey, I didn’t want to bother you, but you just had a phone call a few minutes ago. I was going to call you right after it came through, but a camper came in. Anyway, it was someone who said her name was Charity or Cherry.” Rose was having difficulty remembering the caller’s name. “She said she was a friend of yours and that she was in Memphis and that she was in trouble.” That part she remembered. That part had been clearly stated.
“Charity?” Rhonda asked.
There was a pause.
“I don’t know anybody by that name. Did she say her last name?”
Rose tried to think about the phone call she had received. “No, just Charity.” She thought again. “No, wait, it was Chariot, like the song.”
“What song?” Rhonda asked.
“‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,’” Rose replied.
“Oh.”
Another pause.
“Chariot?” she repeated. “I don’t know a Chariot, either.”
“Well, hopefully, she’ll call back and I can find out more,” Rose responded.
“Chariot,” Rhonda said again. She was trying to figure out the identity of the caller. “In Memphis.”
“In trouble,” Rose added.
“Right.”
“I could star 69 her,” Rose thought aloud.
“Is that something illegal?” Rhonda asked.
Rose laughed. “No, it’s not illegal.”
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
“No,” Rose responded. “I dial star 69 and it gives me the number of the last party who called.”
Rose had read about it in the office phone features booklet that Mary had given her when she was learning how to take messages and put the phone on a forwarding feature so that it would ring on the mobile unit.
“Well, try it and then call me back,” Rhonda responded. “We’re just outside Greenville, Mississippi. We stopped to gas up.”
Rose listened and she could hear the sounds of traffic on the other end. She realized that it was lucky that she was able to reach her boss since there was no way Rhonda could hear the phone ring while she was driving her motorcycle.
“I won’t leave until I hear from you,” Rhonda added.
“Okay.”
“Lucas says hey,” Rhonda said. “What’s Mama doing today?”
“Hey to Lucas. And she’s trying to get me to go to a dance.”
“The Spring Fling?” Rhonda seemed to know what her mother was up to most of the time even if she wasn’t around that much.
“That’s the one,” Rose replied.
“Well, at least she’s given up on me and Lucas for that.” Rhonda paused. “Is she going to take you shopping, too?”
“Over to Anne Marie’s,” answered Rose.
There was a laugh from the other end.
“Okay, look, I’ll call you right back when I find out something about the call.”
Rhonda was still laughing when the two of them hung up their phones.
Rose put down the receiver and dialed star 69. The reco
rded voice gave the date and time of the last received call. Then there was a number that Rose wrote down. She glanced over it and didn’t recognize the area code of 605. She phoned Rhonda again. Her friend answered before the second ring and spoke before Rose ever had time to tell her the information she had received.
“It’s Chariot Stevens,” Rhonda said before Rose could give her the number. “She’s from South Dakota. We met at the bike rally a number of years ago and she’s almost always in trouble.”
FOUR
Oh, okay,” Rose replied. “Do you want me to call her back and tell her you’re far away, maybe give her the address of social services?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Rhonda was considering Rose’s suggestions.
“Nah,” she finally answered. “Give me her number and I’ll call her. I wouldn’t turn down a friend in trouble, even one who tends to stay that way.”
Rose was just about to give the number when she noticed an old Plymouth driving down the driveway in her direction. She waited as it came to a stop right in front of the office. She didn’t recognize the driver. She told Rhonda to hold on and she placed the receiver on the desk and moved closer to the window. She studied the car, and since it was stopped beyond the front window, she was able to read the license plate. The car was from South Dakota.
Rose walked back over to the desk and picked up the phone again. “I don’t think you have to worry about calling her. She just pulled up to the campground.”
There was a sigh.
“Well, just tell her we’ll be back at Shady Grove by lunchtime. Do you mind helping her find a place to wait?” Rhonda asked.
Rose smiled. She did love her boss and friend’s soft heart. “Of course,” she responded. “We’ll be in the office.”
Rose watched as the young woman closed the car door and headed up the steps of the office. She said good-bye to Rhonda and was waiting for the visitor as she walked inside.
“Morning,” she said as a way of greeting.
“Hello,” the young woman replied hesitantly.
Rose could tell that she was uncomfortable. She looked around nervously. It appeared as if she hadn’t slept in a number of days. Her shoulder-length brown hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail. Her clothes were wrinkled and stained, probably from eating while she drove, Rose thought. Her eyes gave away her fatigue and she fidgeted as she stood just inside the door.
“Come on in,” Rose added.
The woman walked toward the counter. The door shut behind her and she jumped a bit at the sound.
“Welcome to Shady Grove. Can I help you?” Rose decided not to let on that she knew who the visitor was, that she recognized her as the woman who had called Rhonda earlier.
“I’m, uh, looking for Rhonda Boyd,” she replied, glancing around, trying to find some proof that she had come to the right place. “Does she still live here?” she asked, hoping the information she received was correct.
Rose nodded. “Yes, she and Lucas are the owners of Shady Grove, but they aren’t here most of the time.”
The girl looked disappointed. She began biting her bottom lip. She then dropped her eyes and appeared as if she had run out of ideas for herself.
“I just talked to Rhonda, though, and she and Lucas are on their way here. They should just be a couple of hours.”
She looked up at Rose. She seemed relieved.
Rose studied the visitor. “Do you want a cup of coffee?” she asked, assuming the young woman needed some sustenance.
She nodded.
Rose walked over to the coffeepot, took one of Mary’s mugs from the cabinet, and poured the visitor a cup. “You take anything in it?” she asked as she turned around.
She shook her head. “Just black,” she replied, moving toward Rose and taking the cup from her.
“There,” Rose announced as she handed over the cup. “Nothing like a cup of joe to ease the mind.”
The visitor smiled and took a sip. She seemed to relax with the gift of the morning beverage and the small display of hospitality. “My name is Chariot. Chariot Stevens,” she said. “I’ve been driving all night. I’m from South Dakota.
Rose nodded. “And I’m Rose. It’s nice to meet you. Have you eaten anything?”
She shook her head again, as she drank another sip. “I had a burger about midnight,” she said.
“Well, you need some breakfast,” Rose responded as she walked over to the desk and picked up the phone. “Would you like a biscuit? I know where there are some freshly made this morning,” she added, remembering Ms. Lou Ellen’s plate of ham biscuits.
“You serve food here?” the woman asked. She glanced around looking for cooking and serving facilities.
Rose smiled. “Let me just make a call.” She held the receiver in one hand and dialed Ms. Lou Ellen. She made the request, and in only a matter of minutes, the older woman was standing on the porch with two biscuits on a small plate, wrapped in a linen napkin. Rose noticed how her friend studied the car before opening the door and coming into the office.
“You’re in luck,” Rose announced as Ms. Lou Ellen walked through the door. “The three-legged dog didn’t eat them all.”
The visitor was sitting at the table and Rose was leaning against the counter. Ms. Lou Ellen arrived so quickly Rose hadn’t had the chance to learn anything more about the young woman.
“Well, hello dear,” Ms. Lou Ellen said, drawing out every syllable. She placed the plate in front of the guest, pulled away the napkin in grand style, and held out her hand to shake.
Chariot stood up to return the greeting, knocking over the chair behind her. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry,” she said as she reached down and picked it up. “I don’t mean to be so clumsy,” she added.
Ms. Lou Ellen helped her put the chair back at the table and the visitor sat down.
“No worries, child,” Ms. Lou Ellen responded. She sat down across from her. “I’m Lou Ellen Johnston Maddox Perkins,” she noted as an introduction. “You can just call me Ms. Lou Ellen. And these are my ham biscuits.” She smiled.
Chariot nodded. She glanced down at the food in front of her. “I’m real glad to meet you,” she responded.
“I’m not sure if you mean me or the biscuits, but either way, we are delighted to make your acquaintance.” Ms. Lou Ellen winked over at Rose.
“This is Chariot Stevens,” Rose explained. “She’s from South Dakota.” Since that was all the information she had, that was all she said.
“South Dakota?” Ms. Lou Ellen repeated. “Well, that’s just lovely. How is it that you’re from the great state of South Dakota?”
Chariot appeared confused. “I, uh, I was just born there,” she replied.
“Right,” Ms. Lou Ellen said. “And we have no say in those matters, do we?” she asked with a wink.
Chariot blushed, not sure of what else to say.
“Please, enjoy!” Ms. Lou Ellen pushed the biscuits closer to the visitor from South Dakota.
Chariot began to eat. She took small bites and both Rose and Ms. Lou Ellen noticed how her hands shook as she held the biscuit. The two women glanced at each other.
“Rhonda called,” Rose said as a means to divert their attention off of the young woman eating.
“Is she somewhere in this country?” Ms. Lou Ellen asked.
Chariot looked at Rose for the answer.
Ms. Lou Ellen explained as she noticed the questioning look upon the visitor’s face. “Rhonda is my daughter; she sometimes goes missing.”
Chariot nodded.
“She’s in Greenville,” Rose replied.
“Mississippi?” Ms. Lou Ellen asked.
“I believe so.”
“Is that the orphanage or the women’s shelter?” the older woman wanted to know.
“I think that’s the halfway house for recent drug offenders, the ones just out of jail,” Rose replied.
Chariot snapped her head up at that explanation. She seemed stunned at the answer Rose
gave, as if the news somehow implicated her.
“Rhonda and her beloved are forever saving the world. They’re especially partial to those recently released from the big house,” she said, referring to the work Rhonda and Lucas did for those just out of prison.
Rose cleared her throat, trying to get the older woman’s attention. She had seen Chariot’s reaction to the statement about the halfway house, but Ms. Lou Ellen hadn’t seemed to notice. Rose figured she should try and change the subject.
“Of course, they did have their fair share of assistance when they got out.” She waved her hands in the air as if she decided she had shared enough. “But enough about our affairs here at Shady Grove, what brings you to West Memphis, Arkansas, all the way from South Dakota?”
Rose let out a breath, relieved that her friend had gone on to another subject.
Chariot swallowed her bite and took a drink of coffee. She shook her head. “I, uh, am just traveling.”
It was a shaky answer and Ms. Lou Ellen suddenly sensed that something was not quite right about the young woman sitting in the office. She studied her and then decided it was none of her business to push for any other information. She recognized a woman in trouble as easily as her daughter did. She smiled and reached over and patted Chariot on the hand.
“That’s just fine,” she responded. “Traveling is just fine.”
Rose nodded and noticed that the guest seemed to relax a bit.
“I have never been to South Dakota,” Rose said. She was standing by the counter, wiping the area around the coffeepot. “Tell me, is it still winter there?” she asked.
Chariot nodded. “It was snowing when I left,” she replied.
“Snow?” Ms. Lou Ellen responded. “In April?” She seemed surprised.
“There’s sometimes snow in June,” Chariot added.
“Well, no wonder you are traveling. Who wants to see snow in June?” Ms. Lou Ellen folded her arms across her chest.
“I like the snow,” Rose interjected. “I sort of miss it.”