Straight from the Heart

by Layce Gardner

  Amy and Bernie watched Sam, the boy Jeb and Clementine were fostering, and Gary’s daughter, Delia. The kids were hopping up and down at the taffy wagon choosing what flavors they wanted. “I used to imagine bringing you to the circus when you were a little girl like that,” Bernie said, indicating Delia.

  “Better late than never,” Amy said. She watched Parker buy the world’s biggest selection of taffy. Amy marveled at how well Parker did with the kids. Sam and Delia absolutely adored her. It seemed her blunt ways served them well. She didn’t confuse them with a bunch of vague words and innuendos. Parker was like Horton, Dr. Seuss’s elephant. She meant what she said and said what she meant.

  Bernie said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you were growing up. I know you had a tough time with your mom, especially during her depression. Each time I tried, Jean or our parents intervened. They made it virtually impossible to get close to you. I couldn’t do much other than stalk you. And I didn’t want to scare you. I’m sure they told you bad things about me.” Bernie looked down at the ground, her brow furrowed.

  Amy shook her head. “They did something much worse—they never told me about you, period.”

  Bernie narrowed her eyes. “Yes, that is worse. I’ve spent a lot of my life being invisible. Surviving as a lesbian back when I was young meant staying in the closet. Because getting called out would get you fired, or thrown out of your home, or conversion therapy, or…worse.”

  Amy thought about the things she’d suffered through in her lifetime because of persecution against homosexuals. But Bernie’s life as a lesbian had been much worse. In college, Amy took a Women’s Studies class. She’d learned about the social injustice her lesbian predecessors had suffered, the hardships and hard-won battles they’d fought for the right to exist without being penalized. She had felt it her civic duty to understand how lesbian life had once been. It made her appreciate how much easier her life was because of these brave women, one of which was her aunt. She felt proud.

  Jeb came up behind Amy and Bernie, carrying three bags of roasted peanuts. He handed them each a bag, saying, “I didn’t get the kids any peanuts. Sam doesn’t like food that grows underground ever since he found out about fertilizer. He says root vegetables have poop germs.”

  Bernie laughed and said, “I have to agree with him there. I haven’t had a turnip or a carrot in thirty-five years.”

  “He eats potatoes, though. I told him they grow on trees. I’d appreciate it if you don’t tell him any different,” Jeb said.

  “Parker’s getting them a wheelbarrow full of taffy,” Amy said. “I don’t think they’ll miss the peanuts.”

  “Those kids’ll be buzzing all over the place from all that sugar,” Jeb said.

  “That’s part of the fun of it,” Bernie said.

  “Having the little guy around is...good for me.” Jeb smiled fondly as he said, “Sam’s given me more energy. It’s hard to believe now, but Luke used to be just like that. Full of curiosity and energy. Now he’s more like a sloth. Took him ten years to move out of my house and get his own place.”

  “Some of them take their sweet time to leave the nest these days,” Bernie said, popping a peanut into her mouth.

  “Yeah, it’s called student loans,” Amy said.

  “Except he doesn’t have any loans,” Jeb said. He cracked open a peanut and let the shell fall to the ground.

  Parker and the kids returned with giant bags full of taffy. “I never knew taffy came in so many flavors,” Parker said.

  “We got one of each kind,” Delia said. “Parker said it was okay.”

  Sam held up a sheet of paper for the adults to see. “The taffy man gave me this. It’s a chart of all the flavors. I’m going to mark them off as I eat them.” He unwrapped a piece of light yellow taffy. Chewing it slowly, he tilted his head and closed his eyes. After a moment, his eyes popped open and he exclaimed, “Buttered popcorn!”

  Delia thrust her bag at Amy, asking politely, “Would you like a piece of my taffy?”

  “No, thank you, sweetie,” Amy said. “I don’t like things that taste like other things.”

  “Huh?” Delia asked.

  “Taffy shouldn’t taste like popcorn. Popcorn should taste like popcorn. Taffy should taste like taffy. I get really confused when things don’t taste like themselves.”

  “I don’t mind,” Delia said, putting a taffy in her mouth and chewing. “Strawberry shortcake!”

  The crowd of people began to move toward the big red and white striped tent.

  “We better get a move on,” Jeb said. “Sam, I want you to hold on to the back of my belt with one hand, okay? Delia, you hold onto Sam’s belt. We’ll form a human chain.”

  “I won’t get lost,” Delia said.

  “I’m not worried about you,” Jeb said. “This is so I don’t get lost.”

  “Oh, okay,” Delia said, grabbing the back of Sam’s pants.

  “I hope we can sit down front,” Sam said. “But it’s all right if we can’t, ‘cause you can’t always get what you want.”

  Parker said, “That’s was a really good song by this old band called The Rolling Stones.” She walked off with Jeb and the kids, saying, “I’ll play the album for you someday. You’ll like it.”

  Bernie and Amy lagged behind. “That Parker’s a keeper,” Bernie said.

  Amy beamed. “I think so, too.” There was a pause then she asked, “Were you happy, you know, with Connie?”

  “I was the happiest woman in the world. I felt blessed to have her in my life and I always will. I wouldn’t have changed a thing. Not one damn thing,” Bernie said.

  Amy felt the same way about Parker.

  ***

  The circus didn’t have any lions or tigers performing tricks to the whip and whim of the trainer. The children didn’t seem to miss it. Amy had heard that many circuses had stopped using these majestic beasts, giving them up to animal sanctuaries where they had room to roam and live out their lives in peace and quiet. Sam and Delia would grow up thinking that circuses had dogs that performed tricks, beautiful horses with trick riders, and acrobats that tumbled and flew high above their heads.

  They didn’t get the front row, but they did get the one behind it. Bernie seemed as delighted as the children. It warmed Amy’s heart. Parker looked over at her and smiled. Even Jeb seemed to be enjoying himself. He sat next to Sam and ate half his taffy. Sam wasn’t the only one who was going to be hopped up on sugar.

  After the big tent show, the children were excited to see the petting zoo. The grown-ups scoured their pockets for quarters so the kids could buy pellets to feed the animals. Parker came up with a double handful of quarters.

  “Do you always have that much change on you?” Amy asked.

  “I brought it specifically for the petting zoo.”

  “How’d you know they’d have a petting zoo?” Bernie asked.

  “I didn’t,” Parker said. “But I was hoping.” She and Jeb walked ahead with the kids and entered the petting zoo gate.

  Bernie and Amy leaned against the petting zoo fence and watched the kids inside roam around the goats, sheep, ducks, chickens and llamas. The animals gently ate food pellets out of the children’s palms.

  “What was your favorite part of the circus?” Bernie asked.

  Amy took her time thinking it over. “I guess my favorite part was spending time with you.”

  Bernie laughed and threw her arm over Amy’s shoulders, pulling her into a one-armed hug. “Next, I’m going to take you fishing. Did your daddy ever take you? He was always big on fishing. You know, he was a different man before your mama got sick and they…” she stopped. Her face reddened.

  “Lost the baby,” Amy finished for her. “I didn’t know about that until Mom told me in one of her more lucid moments. It helped me understand her. And Millie filled in a lot of the missing details.”

  “That was an awful thing those gossipy people did to her. I would’ve been there for her if she’d have let
me. They’d all figured out about Connie by then. I didn’t hide my love for her when I was with the family. That love shined and they couldn’t stand its brightness. But I don’t regret it one bit—except for not being able to spend time with you.”

  “We’re here together now,” Amy said, “and they’re not.”

  Jeb ran toward them. He stopped on the inside of the fence. “Have you seen Sam?” He was out of breath. “I can’t find him. One minute he was petting the bunnies and the next he was gone.”

  “Gone?” Bernie said, looking around. “How big is the damn petting zoo?”

  “Not that big. And it’s fenced,” Jeb said. “Did you see him walk out the gate?”

  “No,” Amy replied. “But I wasn’t really watching.”

  “Don’t panic. He’s got to be around her somewhere,” Bernie said.

  Parker and Delia came over. Delia was holding firmly onto Parker’s belt. Jeb leaned down to talk to her. “Delia, did you see which way Sam went after the bunnies?”

  Delia nodded. “Uh huh.”

  “Okay… What happened? Can you tell me where he went?”

  “He saw a lady. She talked to him. I think he knew her because she said his name and hugged him. They walked off together,” Delia said. She pointed to the throng of people outside the petting zoo. “They went that way.”

  Jeb bent down on one knee and said, “Delia honey… Can you tell me what this lady looked like?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Okay. What did she look like?”

  “Like a lady.”

  “Okay. What color hair did she have?”

  “Brown. It was long.”

  “Good. Was there anything else you remember?”

  Delia nodded. “She had funny looking teeth.”

  “Funny looking how?” Jeb asked.

  “They were gone. A bunch of them were gone just like happened to me when I was little,” Delia said.

  Jeb straightened up and scowled. “His mother.”

  “Sam’s mother?” Parker asked.

  “Fits her description and Sam went with her willingly,” Jeb said.

  “I thought she was in jail,” Amy said.

  “Was in jail,” Jeb answered. “She got out a few days ago.”

  “Maybe Tess will know the mother’s address?” Amy suggested. “Social workers know that kind of stuff, don’t they?”

  “Yeah, if Sam’s mother had an address, which she doesn’t,” Jeb said. “She broke parole right after she got out and nobody knows where she is.”

  Parker took charge. “We need to fan out. She can’t have gotten that far with a little kid in tow. Jeb and I will check the parking lot. You all check the grounds. Delia, you go with Amy and Bernie, okay?”

  Delia’s bottom lip trembled and she said in a shaky voice, “I didn’t mean to lose him!”

  “No, honey, it’s okay,” Bernie said. She picked up Delia and balanced her on one hip. “Sam’s mama just wanted to talk to him. She won’t hurt him. She’s probably just missing him, that’s all.”

  “Okay,” Delia said in a small voice.

  They split up and began searching for one little boy among the hundreds of people.

  ***

  “That damn woman. I’m going to kill her when I get my hands on her,” Jeb said. He was walking toward the parking lot with Parker.

  “I wouldn’t advise that. You won’t get custody of Sam that way,” Parker said.

  “I didn’t mean literally,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Or maybe I did, I don’t know. Clementine is going to kill me.”

  “This isn’t your fault. Sam went with his mother because she asked him to. He’s a good boy, which means he listens to people in authority, and that means his mother. What worries me is that she’s probably filling his head with lies,” Parker said, as they scanned the parking lot.

  “Lies? Like what?” Jeb asked.

  “Like you and Clementine don’t really want him anymore. That you’re stuck with him until they find another place for him. Tess has some enlightening stories on how the system works and the things parents tell their kids to keep them loyal.”

  “Sam wouldn’t believe any of that,” Jeb said. But he didn’t sound so sure. They walked up an aisle of cars, their necks craning for any sign or clue.

  “He’s only nine. People have lied to him his whole life. She’s his mother. He loves her. She’s the one semi-permanent person in his life. You and Clementine just showed up the other day. Who would you trust?”

  “Damn it, Parker, do you always have to be right on the nail?”

  Parker cocked her head at him. “I’m only stating the obvious.”

  “I know, I know. I think I better call Chief Bob Ed and clue him in.” He whipped out his cell phone and made the call. They walked and continued searching the parking lot while Jeb mostly listened to what Bob Ed told him.

  Parker raised her eyebrow when he finished the call.

  “He can’t do an Amber Alert because his mother has him and she still has some custody rights, for the moment. Until Social Services says otherwise, she can still see him.”

  “I’ll call Tess and she what she thinks.” Parker called Tess. She listened to Tess yell and then regain control of herself. “Okay, I’ll tell him,” Parker said. She pocketed her phone.

  “What did she say?” Jeb asked. They had finished searching the parking lot and had seen no sign of Sam or his mother.

  “That this is the kind of thing that will ensure she loses custody. This is a silver lining as long as Sam doesn’t get hurt and you get him back,” Parker said.

  “Okay, that helps. I mean, she is his mother. I couldn’t imagine her hurting him,” Jeb said. He didn’t look certain. “Intentionally, anyway.”

  “Sam is smart. We need to remember that.”

  They walked in silence back to the petting zoo. They found Amy talking to a big, burly security officer. When she saw them, she walked up to them, and said, “No luck.”

  “I called Tess. She’ll alert the appropriate people. Maybe that’ll help,” Parker said.

  “Maybe,” Amy said. But she didn’t sound so sure either.

  ***

  The next morning, Amy and Jeb were going over the layout of the paper. One thing about the newspaper business was that the news went on even when you were in no shape to report it. Jeb was a nervous mess. Clementine had come to the office to help. Clementine was adept at layout, having saved Jeb’s ass many a time when people quit with no notice.

  Clementine hadn’t been angry with Jeb over Sam’s disappearance. Quite the opposite. She’d been like a mama bear. She was going to eat the boy’s mother alive when they finally found her.

  Amy wondered if Jeb could be persuaded to officially hire his wife. His two other reporters, who also did some of the day-to-day operations, had resigned last week. They’d gone to Scotland on holiday and decided to stay. That was one of the reasons Jeb had brought Luke, his son, into the business. He’d been their photographer before this. Jeb was correct in thinking him undermotivated, but he was doing a good job in his own way and was slowly improving.

  “Any word?” Clementine asked when she came upstairs after talking with the printers.

  “Not yet,” Jeb said, as he chewed on his red pencil. Clementine walked over and snatched it out of his mouth.

  “But I need that,” Jeb said.

  “Then no chewing,” Clementine said. “Wood chips won’t help your ulcer.”

  “I know. You’ve got a point,” he said, morosely.

  Clementine gave him back his pencil. She sat in Luke’s chair. He was out photographing and interviewing the town’s Leaf Lovers’ Club as they geared up for their celebration ceremony that involved a drive and hike rally into the scenic Clarkson byway.

  Amy worked on her story about Sam’s disappearance at the circus. They wanted to get the word out as quickly as possible. With his picture on the front page, someone might recognize him and call Social Services, the police, or the pa
per itself. She was writing a brief piece on Sam—the history of his short life. That would get people going. Half the town would be out searching for him by tonight, and that’s what they were hoping for.

  Chapter Seven

  “Well, it could’ve been worse,” Susan said after she finished sewing up the stitches on Rosa’s back.

  “I don’t know about that,” Rosa said as Susan and Steph helped roll her onto her back. She gritted her teeth so she wouldn’t scream. She needed morphine, but had been weaning herself off it. She was deathly afraid of becoming addicted. She had told Susan about her fear. Susan agreed with the weaning process, but with reservations. Susan knew that pain was no friend to a body trying to heal. She substituted hydrocodone for the morphine to appease Rosa.

  “I’ll have the nurse bring your pain medication. We’re really going to have to watch this. I had you scheduled for physical therapy beginning next week, but we’ll have to wait and see if that’s going to be possible now. You’re paying a price for leaving the hospital,” Susan said.

  “I know that, but I want out of this bed and out of that chair as soon as possible,” Rosa said, pointing an indignant finger at the wheelchair.

  Susan looked over at Steph as if they had a secret between them. It infuriated Rosa. Ever since she had been in the hospital she felt like people weren’t telling her everything. “What are you not telling me?” Rosa asked.

  “Rosa, it’s going to be awhile before you’re living without a wheelchair,” Susan said gently. “And it’s going to be slow going. You’re going to need to be patient.”

  “That’s a lot of ‘going tos’ that I’m not going to…” she put air quotes around her own ‘going to,’ “accept,” Rosa said.

  Susan sighed and looked at Steph.

  “And stop giving each other those looks like I’m not even in the room. This is my life and I get to decide what to do. You two don’t get to look at each other like you’re allies. This isn’t a reality TV show where people are trying to form alliances. This is me, my back, my legs, my brain. I get to say what happens with my body.” She jabbed a finger at them, “Not you. Now, get the fuck out of my room,” she said. “Both of you.”