by Boo Riley
He continued. “I think one of the greatest attributes a human can have is a forgiving heart. You have one, and I admire you for it.”
Mr. Jordan had a way of making me taller with few words.
The light turned green, but he didn’t go. “Ty, do you know Jesus?”
“No, sir. I mean, I read some stories about Him, but I thought He was dead.”
“Quite the opposite. He’s alive and well, and if you’ll ask Him to forgive you of your sins, He’ll live in your heart.” He patted his chest. “It’s called being saved or born again, in spirit.”
“You know, no one ever told me about God, not that I recall, but I’ve always believed in Him. I know He exists and I know Jesus is His Son.”
The light turned green again. Two cars had stacked up behind us. “Then you are truly called, my boy. All you have to do now is ask Him to forgive you and answer the call.”
It wasn’t hard to see Ray-Ray in Mr. Jordan. They sure had a way with words that set me to thinking.
We pulled in at Mr. Jordan’s house and parked in the driveway. “Randy and Karen have gone to church. Come on, you can use Randy’s shower. I’ll get a towel, anything else you might need, and see if I can find you some duds to wear. I need to call Sheriff Bowles too.”
I followed Mr. Jordan down a long hallway, its walls covered in pictures, both on the left and the right. No doubt kinfolk.
One room we passed had a big desk with a leather front and leather chair. Bookshelves full of books covered every wall, floor to ceiling.
Randy’s room threw me for a loop. It looked big as our house. Posters of football and baseball players covered the walls. Model cars lined shelves and model airplanes hung from the ceiling from fishing line. Made them look like they were flying around the room. In a corner, next to a sliding glass door that opened out onto a patio, stood a saddle rack with a well-oiled saddle on display.
It was perfect. A blue bedspread printed with brown footballs, without a wrinkle. No shoes, no nothing on the gray carpeted-floor.
Standing in the rain with a bar of soap was one thing, I’d done it, and it didn’t take me long to finish my business. Standing in a shower, my first one ever, with hot water pounding me to a beet red, made me want to stay there forever.
Jeans and a green shirt had been left on the bed when I got out. The black tennis shoes he put out for me were too big, but not by much. They’d do to go see my brother.
I’d have to thank Randy the next time we met.
Only the heavy tick of a wall clock could be heard as I wandered back to the entry, then down another long hallway and into the kitchen. The rubber soles on my shoes squeaked on the oak floor in the hall and on the tile in the kitchen.
Mr. Jordan had pulled his car around to the back and had a box he placed in the trunk.
Reading a newspaper had never crossed my mind, and why I glanced at the one on the kitchen table is beyond me. It wasn’t the headline, but a little title in a square to one side.
AREA MAN ARRESTED FOR ABUSE
I scanned two short paragraphs looking for a familiar name, down to “See ABUSE A-2”, but didn’t see one.
The patio door slid open and Mr. Jordan stuck his head in. “You look great, Ty. You ready, then? How was your shower?”
“Yes, sir, I’m ready. Heaven.”
“Excuse me.”
“Heaven, Mr. Jordan. The shower felt like heaven.”
He squeezed my neck and gave me a pat on the back. “Let’s go see Cameron.”
A Redbone hound ran from the barn to meet me. It was a female, light red and sleek, smaller than a male would be, slight in build. She sniffed me up and down the leg, her tail going ninety miles an hour as I scratched her back.
Mr. Ed came to the door of the barn and yelled for us to wait. He walked with purpose, focused on me, a big smile across his face. Behind him came the cheek-lady from the bait shop.
“Ty,” Ed said. “You scared the daylights out of me. Good to see you’re safe.” He grabbed me in a headlock and rubbed my noggin with a knuckle. “Miss Daisy here cut your track I think. Where’d the Judge find you?”
We shook hands. “At Mr. Ray-Ray’s. Sorry for putting you out. I, I never ….”
The cheek-lady stood behind Ed, quiet as a mouse, but I knew she’d be grabbing my cheeks or poking me like a melon given the chance.
“Don’t be sorry about a thing. Just glad you’re here now.” He took off his cowboy hat and wiped his forehead. “Ty, this is my wife, Anne Marie.”
“Ma’am.” A nod was all I could manage.
We hugged and she cupped my face and gave me a kiss on the forehead. She never said a word, not one. Just wiped her eyes and walked back to the barn.
The three of us watched her until she disappeared.
Ed put his hat back on. “Women. Hard to figure sometimes. Old Ray, he’s one of a kind. Bet you wondered what in the world you’d walked into when you met him.”
“Yes, sir, I sure did.”
He gave me another head rub before I got in the car.
Before, the type of attention paid me didn’t require my comments. Now, I didn’t know what to say or do. I hoped he didn’t mind a big smile.
A few things, events, people popping into my life, our lives, mine and Cameron’s, began to make sense.
Mr. Jordan drove us back through town to the hospital. He led me through the reception area and down a long, white-tiled hallway to a nurse’s station. Men and women alike, dressed in green tops and pants, worked at different counters and desks.
One of the nurses looked up. Mr. Jordan pointed down another hall. She smiled and waved us on.
I never thought to ask if Cameron was awake or what to expect. The door didn’t have a window in it, so not being able to see inside the room added a strong dose of doubt about his condition.
Mr. Jordan gave the door a quick rap with a knuckle, pushed it open, and then stepped aside to let me walk by him.
Cameron was sitting up in bed dressed in a white undershirt and what looked like blue gym shorts. Other than a white bandage around his head, he looked great, smiling.
A tall lady stood next to him pouring water into a plastic cup. She had shoulder length brown hair pulled behind her ears, and she wore a white blouse and tan slacks. She glanced up and placed the pitcher on the cart next to Cameron.
To my right, a man leaned against the windowsill. A serious looking man, or at least his short hair and big arms made him look like he meant business. Just to his left, on the sink, lay a blue motorcycle helmet with a white star on the side of it.
We exchanged looks, the four of us, left, right, right, left. Tears streamed from the lady’s eyes.
My throat caught just in time to keep my heart from jumping out of my chest onto the foot of Cameron’s bed. “Mom?”
39
Sitting in the chair next to Cameron, listening to Mom and John T.—the private investigator she’d hired to check on us—I remembered the story Brother Mark told us in church about Joseph and his brothers.
…and he fell upon his brother Benjamin’s neck, and wept; and Benjamin wept upon his neck.
Moreover he kissed…
It was sure good to see Cameron.
John T. hopped onto the edge of the sink. “Anyway, I hit the kill switch, coasted the last hundred yards and pulled off the road. I tried to be quiet as possible even though I was still a ways from the house. I knew your dog would be there about the time I got my helmet off. I gave him two dog biscuits, then here came a truck. That was no big deal. All I had to do was be still and wait for it to pass. Then you two yahoos took off running so close to me I nearly had a heart attack. I didn’t have a clue you were there.”
Cameron choked back laughter and wiped tears from his eyes. “Yeah, and I heard you whack something.”
John T. threw his arms out, palms up. His voice went up a note. “I ran into a tree. Almost broke my neck. I saw the trunk, but missed seeing the big limb. It got me across
the chest.” He made a motion from shoulder to shoulder. “I waited ten minutes or so then sneaked in to watch the house. When I got back to my bike and my helmet was gone, that really threw me. I actually felt my head thinking I’d forgot to take it off. It took me a little while to find it, digging around in the dark in that old barn. I expected to have a rat trap take a bite of a finger, or some animal to attack me every time I reached under something.”
“Wait, wait,” I said, “Cameron, how, how did you get away? How’d you get here?”
Cameron pointed to John T.
John T. answered for him. “I’d just parked the bike and made a circle through the woods to the back of the barn when your dad came home. Ty, you nearly ran right over me when he chased you from the barn. Your dog tripped him up and just in time too, because he about had you.”
“Did Jake bite him? I heard Dad hit heavy and yell.”
“Yep, your dog bit him, and he fell on a pile of boards full of nails and suffered a puncture wound to the right forearm.”
Cameron shook his head. “Set his own trap. He’s the one who insisted on stacking them boards there. Then he ran over them.”
John T. gestured to Cameron and mom. He opened his mouth to talk and then closed it.
Mom said, “John, just tell them. There’s no love lost.”
“I suppose,” he said. “Just didn’t want to tell your story.”
“Just tell it. They’re already men. Didn’t get a chance to be kids. They can handle it, and I don’t need to tell it.”
“I made a citizen’s arrest you might say. I suppose your dad can file on me for trespassing, but I don’t care. I didn’t see him hit Cameron, but I heard it, all of it, and I saw him leave the barn, after you, wielding the shovel handle. I had to hold him at gunpoint. Your stepmom called the police.”
“Momma Ray called the police on Dad? Hard to believe she’d ever do something like that,” I said.
“I made her. I didn’t know if Cameron would live or die, and I couldn’t turn my back on your dad. I forced him to carry Cameron into the house. Then he got to sit on his hands on the living room floor until the ambulance and police arrived. There’s a lot of hate in that guy. Sheriff Bowles hauled him to jail. He’s been charged with child abuse and assault, just two that I know of. The judge set bail at five hundred grand. He’ll have to come up with ten percent to get out.”
“Which judge? Mr. Jordan?” I said.
John T. nodded.
It took me a second to do the ciphering. No way Dad would get out of jail, not unless he could get someone to buy his junky old haying equipment. Even that might not be enough.
Cameron shifted around on the bed. “The other day, Dad and Momma Ray ran off to town on an errand, or so they said. They came back acting like someone had given them what for. Momma Ray had a bunch of papers under her arm. You have something to do with that, Mom?”
“Their errand was breakfast. My lawyer met them at the restaurant and served them with papers. I’m suing for custody.”
“Mom, what…” I didn’t mean to be so obvious in front of John T., but questions he didn’t need to hear burned on my tongue.
Mom must have known. All she had to do was glance at him and he picked up his helmet and walked to the door. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee, Mrs. Brooks. You need me, I’ll be in the cafeteria.”
“Thanks, John.”
“Wait,” I said. “One more question. Why the motorcycle?”
“You live too far back in the woods. Nowhere to park a car out of sight. Even the bike was a chore without a headlight to see where I was going. You probably didn’t see it, but I put a little strip of reflective tape on a tree about two hundred yards from where I parked, so I’d know where to shut the lights off.”
He stood there a moment with the helmet under his arm. “Well, if you need me, you know where I’m at. Glad you’re safe.” He gave a quick salute and disappeared down the hallway.
Mom looked like…well, I don’t know what. I remembered turmoil. Early mornings, ragged hair, red eyes, screaming for us to be quiet so she could sleep. Different men in our lives. Some who liked kids and some who didn’t, mostly the latter.
The woman staring at me now didn’t look like the mom I remembered. Her blouse and pants, her attitude, and the way she carried herself didn’t fit the image I had stored away.
“Mom. Mrs. Brooks?”
“I’m remarried, Ty. His name is James, James Brooks. He’s a great guy, and I love him. We live in Houston, Texas—where you’ll be living soon.”
“Where have you been? How come you haven’t been to see us? When was the last time?”
Cameron puffed up a little. “Hey, she had an order.”
“Cameron, I bet you had your questions answered,” I puffed back. “She’s my mom too. You just sit there and be quiet.”
Mom walked to the armchair and sat down. “I wasn’t fit to be a mom. Son, I’m sorry. I was really messed up for a long time. All I can tell you is, I’m sorry and I love you. Do you forgive me?”
We met at the foot of the bed and cried.
I guess Cameron had already done his crying, so he sat and kept his tongue.
Mom and I turned loose of each other when a nurse walked in. The lady had a great smile, one that made you want to be near her. She fussed over Cameron, and I would have sworn Cameron looked like he got sicker as she checked the bandage and used a small light to look into his eyes. Big faker was wallowing in the attention of a pretty girl.
I couldn’t help myself. “Ma’am, did, did you see anything in there?”
She gave me a quick look. She must have realized what I meant. “The back of his head is all.” She pinched Cameron’s cheek. “We’re going to let you get out of here before lunch, young man. Doctor Lowery will be in. He’s making his rounds right now. As soon as he sees you, I’m sure you’ll be free to go. Course, I’ll have to wheel you out. We don’t let patients walk out of here these days. Any questions?”
Mom spoke. “I think there’s some paperwork I need to take care of.”
“Yes, you can stop downstairs at Admissions on the way out. Of course, if you don’t want to sign, we can keep him here and put him to work changing bedpans and such.” Her green eyes lit.
Cameron’s face wrinkled up like an old pug dog. We both had to think about that a minute, then we let out an “eww” at the same time.
The nurse shook her head once and gave mom a sideways glance. “Sounds like you better make sure you take him with you. He won’t be much use around here if he won’t change a bedpan.”
Mom put one hand on Cameron’s leg and grabbed me around the neck and squeezed. “I’m going to take them both.”
I put an arm around her and squeezed back. “You mean that? We’re going with you?”
“It seems you two have a special friend in Judge Jordan. He’s already signed the papers.”
Oh yeah. Me and Cameron slapped hands.
Doctor Lowery showed up and gave Cameron and Mom a lecture about contact sports. Cameron’s concussion, his condition, couldn’t take the beating on a football field. I wanted to say something smart about Dad and his right hook, but thought better of it.
Mom assured him Cameron would not hit nor be hit anytime soon.
The nurse with the pretty smile arrived with a wheelchair as the doc left, loaded Cameron up, and pushed him down the hall and out the front door.
Mom pulled to the curb in a red Saab. “Boys, we’re staying in a hotel tonight, out on the Interstate. Tomorrow, well, tomorrow we’ll think more about what’s next. We have years to make up for.”
Mom had a bunch of stuff on the front seat, so I opened the back door for Cameron. “Mom, you heard us talk about my dog, Jake. I can’t leave him here.”
She looked down and scanned her car and its tan leather seats. I know she was thinking there’s no way a dog is riding in my car, but she smiled and her eyes softened. “Where is he? We’ll pick him up and take him with us.”
Cameron had a questioning look on his face.
I shrugged.
“Ty, did Jake run off?”
Tears welled up. “He left me yesterday, at Ray’s house. Ain’t seen him since.” I don’t know how I uttered the words. I got in next to Cameron and closed the door. All at once, the world didn’t look the same anymore. It was like waking up from a dream.
Mom kept an eye on us in the rearview mirror as she drove through town. I could see light in those blue eyes, and the light sparked something in me I’d not felt in a long time—hope.
If Cameron didn’t wipe the smile off his face, it was going to stay that way.
Mom braked for a light, one of the last lights before we reached the big highway, the one down to Little Rock.
On the side street to my right stood a small boy of maybe ten or twelve years of age. Not much younger than me and Cameron. A little blonde-headed girl in a dirty yellow dress stood next to him holding his hand. Next to her was my friend, Jake. He sat on his haunches, still as a statue. She put her hand on him. His tail wagged the second she touched him. He looked at her, stared at her. She gave him a pat and scratched his head. The hand seemed detached, loving and patting Jake on its own, as she scanned the street left and right.
I wanted to yell out to Jake, to Mom and Cameron, to the kids with Jake. I wanted to tell them, “that’s my dog, my friend, and I want him back.” But I sat there like a bump on a pickle.
An old white pickup stopped at the curb in front of the kids. The boy walked to the back and lowered the tailgate. Jake jumped but didn’t make it all the way in, his back legs hanging. The boy helped him and closed the tailgate.
The little girl managed to open the passenger’s door, but the boy said something that caused her to stop. Her shoulders jerked as the lady driving the pickup gestured and leaned toward her. I didn’t hear, but the girl’s reactions were enough.
She put a foot in the doorway, but the boy stopped her and got in first. He helped the girl, then reached across her and pulled the door shut.
Cameron and I had our noses pressed to the window. The knot in my throat wasn’t something I could swallow.
Cameron whispered, “You got to let him go, Bud. They need him now. Got to let an angel do his work.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze and sat back in the seat.