by Shawn Inmon
Nathaniel paused, as though he had actually heard of either Crater Lake, or Oregon. In his head, he saw lives spread out before him, branching from many different paths. He was quiet for a few seconds, then said, “Good.”
Vivian nodded. “Then to the west and Crater Lake it is.”
AT 8:45, PASTOR MICHAELS pulled up in front of Vivian’s house. There was a brown paper bag beside him that had candy bars, Pop Tarts, a six pack of Coke, and an oversized handful of Pixie Stix. He had no idea what a four-year-old ate, or what that much sugar might do to a child stuck inside a car on a four-hour drive, as he had no children of his own. He rolled the top of the brown bag over several times and sat it on the floor. “We’ll keep that as a surprise if our miraculous boy gets antsy.”
He sprang out of the car and took the steps up to Vivian’s front door two at a time. He knocked—shave and a haircut, six bits—and waited. He knocked again, and this time noticed the slightly hollow echo from inside. After thirty seconds, he stepped off the porch and peered in the window. It was dark inside, but he could see a spray of newspapers, discarded boxes, and a lonely stuffed dog sitting on the floor.
“Good gosh darn it,” Michaels said under his breath. He ran back to his car and sped off. Three minutes later, he was in his office in the church—nothing is more than three minutes away in Tubal, Arkansas.
He picked the phone up, dialed a number by memory, and said, “Hello? Cyrus, please.” A few moments later, he said, “She’s gone.”
Michaels heard heavy silence on the other end of the line. “What should we do?” Creech finally said.
“What we should always do. Let’s pray.” Michaels closed his eyes. “Almighty Father, thank You for the gift of this day, and for bringing us into the presence of another of Your miracles. We have felt moved by You to bring this boy into Your grace, so these miracles can be shown to the world. But, he’s controlled by a woman who is a non-believer. We seek Your counsel, Lord, Your direction. Bring the light of Your understanding to us. Amen.”
After a momentary silence on both ends of the line, in a subdued voice, Creech said, “Meet me tonight at my house. We’ll see what we can do about this. That boy is a reflection of the glories of God. We can’t see his gifts wasted.
BY MID-MORNING, VIVIAN, Andi, and Nathaniel had two hundred miles between them and Tubal. Nathaniel had munched through a peanut butter and honey sandwich and a banana, and was happily letting his hand ride the waves of air out the back window.
By lunchtime, they were in Fort Smith, Arkansas, and Vivian drove around until she found a branch of her bank. Fifteen minutes later, over the protests of the local manager, she had closed out her account and walked out with a wad of cash—the result of four years of cheap housing, only drinking cheap wine, and no other bad habits.
She slid behind the driver’s seat, waved the cash at Andi, and said, “Okay, we’re not rich, but this will get us wherever we need to go. I’ve been adding to my Go To Hell fund for four years, a little bit at a time, and today’s the day we say, ‘go to hell.’”
As they sped out of Fort Smith, Andi rolled her window down and yelled, “Goooo Toooo Hell, Arkansas!”
Chapter Ten
Pastor Michaels pulled up in front of the Creech residence a little after 7:30. The Creeches lived in the nicest house in the nicest neighborhood in Tubal. In truth, the neighborhood wasn’t all that much, but the house was a beautiful, two story colonial.
Michaels knocked on the door. Mrs. Creech answered and showed him in to the den. Cyrus Creech sat behind a bigger, more ornate desk than anything he had at the factory. “Come in, Pastor, come in. Please, sit down.”
Michaels sat in the chair opposite and looked around the room. There was a lot of dark wood grain and pictures of the Creeches doing fun things as a family—a shot of them with skis and wind-burned faces, another of them standing proudly beside a huge swordfish hanging from its tail – as well as the obligatory picture of Jesus hanging where Cyrus could see it from behind his desk.
“You have a lovely home, Cyrus.”
“Thank you. So, what are we going to do? Just let this whole thing evaporate?”
“I’ve thought about it all afternoon, but I’m coming up empty. What else is there to do?”
“There’s always something to be done, if you’ve got enough drive and aren’t afraid to commit.”
“Look, Cyrus, I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but the church can’t be part of anything that’s not completely above board.”
“Of course, of course. That goes without saying. I would keep you out of anything like that.”
Michaels shook his head. “No, that’s not what I mean. It’s not a wink-wink, nod-nod kind of thing. I was as excited as you were about bringing that boy to church headquarters, but she’s his mother. What she says goes.” Michaels cleared his throat and looked out the window. “I’m sorry, Cyrus, but I’ve got to go. I’ve still got a sermon to work on for Sunday.”
Cyrus looked at him, disappointment etched on his face, but said, “Of course. Thank you for stopping by. We’ll just let it go.”
Michaels nodded. “No need to see me out. See you Sunday.”
Cyrus didn’t answer, but sat motionless at his desk for long minutes, his head bowed in prayer. Quietly, he said, “What would You have me do, Lord? I am Your servant.” He closed his eyes and waited for an answer.
Eventually, he opened his eyes, scooted closer to the desk and pulled his Rolodex close. He flipped through the cards, and settled on one that said, simply, “Security.” He punched the number into the phone on his desk. As soon as the man answered, Cyrus said, “J.R.? This is Cyrus. I need you to come to my house, ASAP,” then hung up. He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head to wait.
An hour later, a late-model blue Buick pulled up in front of the Creech house. A man in his early forties emerged from the car and walked up the sidewalk. He was the kind of man that anyone would have a hard time giving a description of, ten minutes after they met him. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about him, although that was somewhat remarkable in itself.
Cyrus didn’t wait for the man to come to the door, but opened the door and waited for him on the porch.
“Hello, J.R. Thanks for coming so quickly. I’ve got a challenge for you.”
“That’s why I get up in the morning. I love a challenge.”
Cyrus handed him an envelope. “There’s your retainer. If you need more, let me know. This is of utmost importance, and I don’t want to let money be the reason it doesn’t get done. Understood?”
“Yes. What’s the job?”
“It’s a woman and her son. The woman worked for me until today. I need her found. Absolutely no harm can come to them, but I need to know where they are.” Creech handed a file folder over. “This is everything I’ve got on her. She left this morning, so she’s got about a twelve hour head start on you.”
J.R. opened the folder and looked at the black and white picture of Vivian Hanrahan. He riffled through the pages that were attached. “Looks pretty thorough. Not a pro. Shouldn’t take me too long to find her.”
FOR THE NEXT THREE days, Vivian, Andi, and Nathaniel wandered across America. Andi, who had never been more than a hundred miles from Tubal, was in heaven. She gawked at long, flat fields of waving grain, the hills and lakes of the Ozarks, and the endless string of truckers who honked and waved at her long, slim legs from high above. Nathaniel didn’t care about anything, as long as they didn’t run out of peanut butter or juice boxes.
They spent their fourth night on the road at a small roadside motel in Kimberly, Idaho, a tiny town a few miles from Twin Falls.
They were on the second floor of the motel. Nathaniel was already asleep when Vivian checked a small calendar she kept in her purse. She turned to Andi and said, “Wait a minute, is today your birthday?”
Andi flushed. “Yeah, I was hoping you weren’t going to remember.”
“Why?”
Another thought occurred to Vivian. “Holy heck, it’s not just your birthday. It’s your twenty-first birthday. I don’t care if we’re being chased by a posse like Butch and Sundance, a girl only turns twenty-one once.” She scooped her keys off the nightstand. “You stay here with Nathaniel, okay? I’ll be right back.”
Fifteen minutes later, Vivian returned, swinging a brown paper bag. “Come on outside, I found a couple of chairs and set ‘em up.”
Outside, on the small walkway that looked over Highway 30, there were two plastic lawn chairs with a small table and ashtray between them. Vivian set the ashtray on the ground, then reached into the bag like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. She pulled out a four-pack of Bartles and Jaymes wine coolers and sat them on the table. Next out was a package of Hostess Cupcakes and a lighter. Lastly, she retrieved a small twig she had snapped off a tree on the edge of the parking lot. She stuck the twig in one of the cupcakes and attempted to light it like a birthday candle.
“The ’76 station had a good variety of wine coolers, but their supply of birthday candles was surprisingly low.”
“Surprisingly,” Andi agreed.
No matter how long she held the flame to the twig, it was too green to burn.
“Okay, you’ll have to use your imagination. Make a wish, and blow.”
Andi looked thoughtful. “I don’t think I need a wish. For years, I had just wanted to get out of Tubal, and now, here we are, in nowhere, Idaho. Wish granted.”
Vivian twisted the cap off one of the wine coolers, and handed it to Andi.
“Peach, huh?”
Vivian looked down at the bottle in her hand and said, “Yeah. I might have overstated how good their selection of wine coolers was. It was this, or beer.”
“Excellent choice, and we both know peach spritzers pairs nicely with cupcakes.” She devoured half a cake in a single bite. “Mmmm. That’s good. Thank you, Vivian.”
Vivian uncapped a bottle for herself, tapped bottles with Andi, then leaned back in her chair and stretched her legs out so her feet rested on the metal railing. Andi did the same, and they spent a quiet minute looking up at the stars and the full moon, which cast subtle shadows all around them.
Without looking away from the sky, Vivian said, “This can just be a vacation for you, you know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know what’s ahead for us. You don’t know where we’re going, because I don’t know where we’re going. So, if you want, we can drive on to Crater Lake, then I can find a bus depot somewhere, and I’ll buy you a ticket back to Tubal. Absolutely no hard feelings.”
“And I would never see you, or Nathaniel, again.”
Vivian considered that. “Likely true, although this life has taught me to never use the word never.” Her smile reflected the moonlight.
Andi was silent for a long time before she said, “Two things. I love you and Nathaniel, so I’m not leaving you. Second, this isn’t my first drink.”
“I would have guessed. I don’t think many kids in small towns wait until they’re twenty-one for their first drink. However, it is your first legal drink, and that’s something.”
A car rolled by on the highway below.
“Thank you. I appreciate you giving me the chance, but I really do want to stay with you guys.”
“We love you, too.” They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the sound of a far off car approaching. “Andi, I’m afraid. I don’t know how to stop Nathaniel from doing what he does. I don’t really even want to. It feels wrong to be blessed with an ability like this, and to hide it under a bushel basket. But I also don’t want to have him treated like a freak, or to have to pick up and run every time he ‘fixes’ someone. We’ll run out of places to run, eventually.”
“He listens to you better than any kid I’ve ever seen. I think you just need to have a talk with him. Maybe explain that he needs to talk to you before he fixes someone. We can even tell him why. He’s so smart. He’ll get it.”
“You’re likely right.” Vivian drained her peach cooler, considered for a moment, but eventually twisted the cap off the second one. “I’ll be peeing peach for a week, but what the hell. Oh, one more thing to think about. Wherever we go, we’re going to need new names. I don’t want to make it too easy for anyone to find us. You should keep Andi, so Nathaniel won’t be too confused, but we need a new last name for you.”
“You too?”
Vivian nodded, looked up at the moon, hanging so low in the sky. “I’ve always loved the name Violet. I think that’s my name from now on. Violet Moon.”
“Violet Moon,” Andi said, letting the words roll around on her tongue. She looked at Vivian, considering. “Yes, it fits you.” She drained the last of her first wine cooler, uncapped the second and said, “There’s something really weird I want to tell you. I don’t think you’ll believe it, but if we’re going to be family, I don’t think we should have any secrets.”
Chapter Eleven
“Well, now you’ve got to tell me,” Vivian-who-was-now-Violet said.
“And, I already wish I hadn’t said anything.” A rueful smile played on her lips. “I have this terrible fear that after I tell you this, you’re going to stick me on that bus back to Tubal, kicking and screaming.”
Violet reached across the table and touched Andi’s hand. “Family, remember?”
“Right. Okay. I’ve told you that my mom died three years ago, right?”
Violet nodded.
“The night she died, I wandered out of the hospital in a daze. My dad was so broken up that he wouldn’t leave her, even though she was dead. I felt completely adrift. Mom was everything to us. It wasn’t just that she handled everything, although she did. She took care of the money, did the shopping, planned and cooked the meals. The only time my dad had ever been in the kitchen was to grab another beer. But it wasn’t that. We could figure out how to handle all that stuff, of course. I was a big girl, eighteen at the time. It was so much more. I knew she wouldn’t be there to help me get dressed on my wedding day, or hold her first grandbaby. It was the hole she left in our family. It was like she was the sun, and Dad and I revolved around her. With her gone, we had no direction.”
“Of course,” Violet said, although she had never experienced a mother like that herself.
“So that night, as I stumbled out the front doors of the hospital, I lit up a cigarette—“
“—I didn’t know you used to smoke!”
“—Oh, it was so much worse than just smoking. So. There I was, totally stunned and helpless, crying my eyes out, but doing my best to hide it, when this old pickup truck pulled right in front of me. It was this boy from town named Joey. He was a scumbag, but he was kind of cute. You know the type?”
“Only from movies. I had a pretty restrictive upbringing. But yes, I know the cute, bad boy type. Go ahead.”
“Joey was more than just a bad boy. He was the worst kind of boy. And especially the worst kind of boy for a broken-hearted girl to run into right after her mom has died. I tried to brush him off, but Joey didn’t brush off easily. He was a complete asshole, but he did have his charming side, too, and it was on full display that night. Long story short, I ended up getting in the pickup with him and going for a ride. You know how one thing leads to another? You are looking at Exhibit 1-A for that concept.”
Andi was quiet for a moment, lost in the memory. Violet stayed quiet, let her stay lost for a time.
“I told him what had happened, that Mom had just died, and he acted concerned. Then, he said he had something that would make me forget all about the pain for a little while. We’re all responsible for our decisions, and I know it. So it was my own choice. If it hadn’t been Joey Fitzsimmons right then, it would have likely been some other bad boy the next day or the one after. I was primed and ready to lose myself. Which I did. I knew
what the right thing to do was, and I did exactly the opposite. I knew I needed to get out of that truck and go find my Daddy and grieve with him. And that was just too damn sad.”
A silent tear slid down Andi’s cheek.
“Joey had this little tin of Altoids that he kept in his glove box. He said that was where he kept his big guns, and I needed something big that night. I told him he was absolutely correct, and I took whatever he gave me and washed it down with a hit from his beer bottle. It was warm. The beer, I mean. Gross.”
Violet, who had been tearing up herself, laughed a little. “The things you remember.”
“Joey told me that by the time we got to the party he was going to, I wouldn’t feel a thing, that it would all just fade away. Truer words were never spoken. I don’t remember much of anything after that, for a few years. It was like one big blackout.”
Violet cocked her head. She was doing the math, and things weren’t adding up, but stayed silent, to let the story play out as it would.
“Everything I remember from those years is just like little flashes, and none of them were good. Let’s just say that my standards for what acceptable behavior was, fell to an all-time low.” She shook her head to clear the cobwebs of those flashes from her mind. “About two years after Mom died, I knew where I was headed, and I finally decided to do something about it. I went to Daddy and asked him for help. He didn’t have a lot, but he paid for me to go to a rehab center over in Texarkana. It was good. Thirty days there, thirty days clean, because I made sure I loaded up on the drive there.”
Finally, Violet couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. “I don’t understand, Andi. By this time, you would have been watching Nathaniel for me. None of this fits together.”
Andi raised her hand. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, please wait until all facts are presented before coming to a verdict.”