All the Trouble You Need

by Jervey Tervalon

  “So you figured it out.”

  “Yeah,” he said flatly.

  “She needed help.”

  “This Frank, her husband, is dangerous. If he finds out, he’ll come and get her,” Jordan said.

  “What do you think we should do?”

  “You gotta ask her to leave.”

  Trisha frowned and looked away at the guests enjoying themselves; chatting, eating in the bright, harsh sun.

  “I can’t. You should have seen her; confused, frightened.”

  “How is she now?”

  “She comes and goes; we hardly see her.”

  “Maybe I should talk to her,” Jordan said.

  “So you can be the knight in shining armor?”

  “It’s not about that.”

  “No, this is serious, Jordan. She wanted me to help her, not you. She could have asked you. She’s here. I’m going to do everything I can for her.”

  “You’re as crazy as she is.”

  Jordan felt Trisha’s eyes on him as he walked out of the party and out of the house and got into his car.

  * * *

  Almost ten; the house was quiet. Everything was just about returned to its former order, thanks to Pie’s desire to clean up the mess now, no matter how big a mess or how late. Trisha told her parents she was going to another graduation party, but instead she found herself in a lawn chair pulled close to the house in a gap of darkness between the glare of the pool lights. The timer went off at ten and then she was in complete darkness. The early summer evening was balmy, too comfortable. She started to drift, hearing fragments of disembodied conversation coming from the house; Pie’s heavy voice, her mother’s light one, the news shows her father listened to in the den. Then she heard light footsteps; then, illuminated by moonlight, Daphne. Trisha waited until she unlocked the door of the guest house before calling out to her in a whisper.

  “Daphne! It’s me, Trisha.”

  At first Daphne lingered half in the doorway as if she were deciding whether or not to shut the door. Trisha, sensing her indecision, hurriedly crossed the distance.

  “Can we talk for a moment?” Trisha asked.

  Daphne looked confused, but after a moment allowed Trisha into the guest house. Trisha waited patiently for Daphne to turn on the lights. Finally, after a long awkward moment, Trisha couldn’t stand to be in the darkness any longer.

  “Where are the lights?”

  “Oh, the lights,” Daphne said, and reached about the wall, fumbling as though she had never turned them on.

  The lights revealed an empty room, spartan as a prison cell. There was a simple mat and a sheet covering it. A towel hung from a doorknob. The only indication that a person did more than sleep there was a few paperbacks resting next to a coffee cup and an open notebook.

  “How are you doing?” Trisha finally asked.

  “I’m okay. I was planning to write a few letters.”

  “Really?”

  Daphne looked very sunburned and gaunt. She looked to Trisha like the homeless women on State Street.

  “Congratulations. Someone slid an invitation under the door but I thought it would be awkward for me to come.”

  “I’m sure that was my mother. You should have come,” Trisha said, lying through her teeth.

  “No, I have imposed on you enough as it is.”

  “Imposed on us? We never hear you or see you. Pie says you’re a ghost.”

  Daphne smiled for the first time. The gauntness, the tension in her face, lessened.

  “Your mother tried to give half the rent back but I wouldn’t take it.”

  Trisha shook her head, wondering if her mother wouldn’t give away her last dollar.

  “I’m been meaning to tell you, I’m leaving for India, tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Trisha repeated, feeling giddy and a little ashamed of it.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “In the morning.”

  “Let me give you a ride to wherever you’re going. I know you’ve been doing all of this walking. You must be tired going up and down the hills.”

  “I hike from sunup until after dark. It’s cleansing and meditative.” Daphne paused and looked down at the ground. “A ride to my family home in Hope Ranch would be great.”

  “Sure, that’s not a problem,” Trisha said, and left the guest house in a hurry. She walked to the other side of the pool and sat heavily into the deck chair, wondering if Jordan had noticed that Daphne wasn’t all there. No, she was too pretty and she wasn’t as gone in the head back then. So much had changed from the first time she saw Daphne. Then she was beautiful, composed, well dressed, and even though she hated to admit it, charming. Now, she looked like another burned-out hippie walking up the road toward the foothills. But Daphne wasn’t searching for somewhere to crash. No, she was searching for visions and mortifying the flesh.

  * * *

  Trisha rose early, just after sunup, and hurried to the guest house, hoping Daphne would be ready to leave. She took a deep breath, calmed herself, and knocked sharply. No response. Again she knocked, but with the same result. Trisha was about to give up when she caught a glimpse of someone hiking through thick brush.

  At the edge of their property on the hillside, it was very tough going, and it took a while for her to reach the railing and scramble over it.

  “Good morning,” Trisha said to Daphne.

  Trisha glanced at Daphne’s legs and saw blood trickling from several good scratches.

  “I got caught a few times,” Daphne said, holding up her sleeves and revealing long red welts. “My ankles are worse.”

  “Would you like breakfast before you go? Pie’s a great cook.”

  Trisha was sure Daphne would have no interest in eating, but she nodded yes.

  “I’ll tell Pie you’re coming. She has breakfast ready at seven-thirty or so.”

  Trisha watched Daphne disappear into the guest house; she seemed more out of it than yesterday. What did she plan to find in India except poverty and suffering? If she needed spirituality, she could find that anywhere. She didn’t need to go around the world.

  Unless she was running for her life.

  At the breakfast table Mr. Bell drank his tea while reading an excruciatingly well-folded paper. Lady Bell busied herself sorting through a box of Bible-verse cards. Only Pie looked ready to boil over as the clock reached 8:10 A.M.

  “So, where is this Daffy? I gotta serve breakfast; eggs are cooling, and the bacon’s cold.”

  “I’ll see,” Trisha said.

  Trisha walked outside wanting to scream at the top of her lungs; keeping her father waiting for breakfast was not a good idea. At Daphne’s door again, Trisha knocked and waited but no response. She had probably already floated away to her new life as a crazy woman in India, Trisha thought, as she returned to breakfast.

  Pie was stewing at the sink, glowering at her own reflection in the chrome of the faucet.

  “You can serve breakfast. I’m not sure of what happened to Daphne,” Trisha said, and sat down at the table just as the doorbell rang. She stood up to answer but Pie had already started for it. After a long moment she returned with Daphne.

  “Good morning,” Daphne said, sheepishly.

  Trisha noticed the backpack in Daphne’s hand. Probably halfway down the hill before she decided to return to have breakfast.

  Daphne sat down quickly and stared at an empty plate.

  “You picked a beautiful day for a trip. Do you travel much?” Lady Bell asked.

  “I’ve been traveling for the last five years. This is my first trip home in a while.”

  “Where you off to now?” Pie asked, as she served breakfast. She gave Daphne a double serving of bacon and hash browns.

  “India.”

  “What’s in India? You know somebody there? That’s where they got all them cows running around with them starving people, down on their knees worshipping them,” Pie said.

  For a long moment nothing was said. Mr. Bel
l looked up from his paper. Trisha couldn’t see Daphne’s eyes; she hoped she wouldn’t bolt from the table and go screaming out the door.

  “India is a very spiritual country.”

  “Child, if you looking for spiritual, just open your eyes and look,” Pie said.

  Daphne didn’t say anything.

  “Sometimes people search for what’s right there in their face,” Pie said.

  Trisha realized she had thought the same thing that Pie had said, almost exactly. She didn’t know what that meant, but it embarrassed her.

  Daphne nodded, considering Pie’s comment. She hadn’t touched the bacon on her plate, but she had eaten almost all of the potatoes. Daphne chewed so thoroughly it was as though food wasn’t something she was familiar with.

  After breakfast Trisha and Daphne headed to the car for the drive to Hope Ranch.

  “I hope Pie didn’t make you too nervous. She’s got strong opinions about everything.”

  “No, I like it when people tell me what they really think.”

  As Trisha unlocked the door for Daphne, she heard someone coming from the house.

  “Y’all wait for me.” It was Pie wiping her hands on the apron as she pulled it from her waist.

  Shrugging, Trisha looked at Daphne. Daphne smiled and returned the shrug. Daphne offered the front seat to Pie but she wouldn’t go for it.

  “Y’all just go about your business.”

  Trisha felt relieved that Pie had decided to accompany them, even though dropping Daphne off now would be a complicated adventure. Daphne slyly cast glances back at Pie as if she expected a cuff on the back of the head, or maybe she wanted a clue of what to expect next.

  Trisha drove the poorly marked Hope Ranch Road, waiting for Daphne to give a signal to slow down, but Daphne slipped back into herself, withdrawing even more the closer they got to the house.

  “Daphne, shouldn’t it be right around here?”

  Daphne looked up from gazing at her hands.

  “Sorry, we passed it a half mile ago.”

  Trisha wanted to shake her awake but she contained it, knowing she’d be out of her life in a few minutes. Finally, she found space enough to turn around.

  “Where to?” Trisha asked in a more demanding tone.

  “It’s the next driveway.”

  Driving up the winding brick-lined driveway, Trisha thought of how much money Daphne’s family must have; her family home was a estate.

  “Ya’ll got a nice house here,” Pie said, pulling herself up on the back of Trisha’s seat for a better view.

  Well, this was it. Trisha thought, as she put the car in park, letting the engine idle. Daphne slid from the car and looked back at Trisha and Pie.

  “You should come in and meet my parents,” Daphne said with a little desperation in her voice.

  “We really should be getting back . . .” Trisha replied, but Daphne continued to implore with her eyes.

  “Aw, come on. The girl just want us to step in for a hot minute.”

  “But I don’t want to impose.”

  “Trisha! Get out of the car. The girl invited us in.”

  Trisha cut the engine and slumped back as Daphne helped Pie from the backseat.

  “Come on, girl. Don’t be impolite,” Pie said.

  “Please, just for a minute,” Daphne said, for a moment resembling that beautiful woman that Trisha had met not that long ago.

  Resigned, Trisha opened the car door and followed Daphne and Pie across the broad lawn to the house.

  Daphne unlocked the door and led them into the jungle-motif living room.

  “Y’all got some interesting taste,” Pie said, standing next to the dragon-fan sculpture. Trisha sat on the couch and looked around the vibrant green, art-filled room, wondering what the parents would be like.

  Daphne returned with a thin, blond woman who looked too young to be Daphne’s mother until she came close enough to reveal the gray at her temples and crow’s feet at her eyes. She held on to Daphne like she might run away at any moment.

  “Mrs. Pie, this is my mother, Denise Daniels.”

  “Pleased to meet you. You got a beautiful house and an interesting living room,” Pie said, frowning.

  “And this is Trisha Bell. She’s a friend from school. I’ve been staying with them.”

  Mrs. Daniels looked at them with teary eyes.

  “Thank you for opening your home to my daughter.”

  “Well, the child did pay rent so it wasn’t all of that,” Pie said.

  Trisha instantly liked her, but red-eyed and puffy-faced, she looked to be at the end of her rope.

  “Coffee?” she asked them.

  Trisha again tried to decline.

  “I really wouldn’t want to impose.”

  Pie scowled.

  “Don’t pay no attention to this one. She don’t say what she means.”

  Daphne glanced at Trisha.

  “Please stay,” she whispered.

  “Sure, I’d like to stay for coffee if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Good,” Mrs. Daniels said, and led them through the house to the veranda. After Trisha and Pie were seated, Mrs. Daniels and Daphne retreated to the kitchen, chattering like it was just another lunch with guests. Alone with Pie, Trisha wondered why Pie had insisted on coming and staying for coffee.

  “What’s with all this love you have for Daphne now? You thought she was a kook before.”

  Pie shook her head.

  “She needs help. You don’t invite trouble in, but once it’s looking you in the face, you got to deal with it.”

  “Trouble?”

  “All you got to do is look at her. You can see it.”

  “See what?”

  “She’s gonna have a baby,” Pie whispered harshly.

  Trisha screamed.

  “Girl, calm yourself down!”

  “I don’t understand . . . what are you saying?”

  “You know what it means. I said she’s knocked up.”

  Trisha screamed again but this time Pie’s hand shot across the table and flattened against her mouth.

  “Girl, stop acting like you possessed!” Pie said.

  Trisha tried to think of a coherent response, but the possibility of Daphne carrying Jordan’s baby left her speechless.

  Daphne returned with a tray of pastries and returned to the kitchen.

  Pie gripped Trisha’s hand and squeezed hard enough to distract her from glaring at Daphne.

  “I don’t know what to do about this. What am I supposed to even think?”

  “You’re not supposed to think nothing. You’re a Christian. This ain’t your mess. You just trying to do right.”

  Trisha sighed. What she wanted to do was brain Daphne with that heavy serving tray. Pie could be the Christian soldier, but she wanted to be the devil.

  Mrs. Daniels brought in a tray of delicate cups and a silver coffeepot, and Daphne carried a bowl of sugar with both hands as though she might drop it. She stumbled almost immediately, bumping her mother.

  Trisha knew why Mrs. Daniels looked frayed, with a daughter like Daphne.

  “I don’t want you to think I fret every time I don’t hear from Daphne, but these last few months I just didn’t know what to think.”

  “You really don’t have to worry about me,” Daphne said.

  “I couldn’t help it. I thought you had decided to . . .”

  “I know, go off for another year without a word. I told you I swore I’d never do that to you again,” Daphne said, with conviction. “I’ve decided to return to India,” she continued.

  “Really?” Mrs. Daniels replied, barely showing her disapproval.

  “The last time you were there, it wasn’t very pleasant,” she said.

  “Then I didn’t know what I was looking for, but this time . . . this time I’ll stay and get my breath back. I’ll be free of Frank. He hates India. He wouldn’t set foot in the country.”

  “Yes, but that seems too much,” Mrs. Daniels said
.

  “Yeah, and what kind of place is that to raise a baby?” Pie asked.

  “What?” Mrs. Daniels said.

  “A baby. Don’t you know your girl is pregnant?” Pie asked.

  Daphne sat there stone faced, but didn’t deny it, as Mrs. Daniels, turning pale, looked as though she was going to faint.

  Then the phone rang.

  Mrs. Daniels rose from the table as if she were going to answer it, but instead collapsed back down.

  “I’ll get it,” Daphne said, and rushed away. Mrs. Daniels’ eyes followed her out of the room.

  Pie shook her head. “You’ve been through the wringer with that one.”

  “Well, we never had to deal with this. This is a first.”

  “Mrs. Daniels, Pie is just guessing. She says she knows, but . . .” Trisha said.

  “If it is true, I don’t want to tell her father. That’s the last thing he needs to hear.”

  Mrs. Daniels looked into Trisha’s eyes as though she really knew Daphne.

  “This is the first time I’ve seen her in more than a month, and now to learn this! My first grandchild and she wants to raise it twelve thousand miles away in India.”

  “We should go,” Trisha said, standing up.

  “Actually, I’m overwhelmed,” Mrs. Daniels said, weakly.

  “You look like you need someone to talk to,” Pie said, and gestured for Trisha to come closer.

  “Trisha, you go call your mother, Lady Bell. It’s a blessing from God the way she can make people feel better.”

  “Call my mother?”

  “Yeah, get her over here, now.”

  Trisha reached for the phone thinking she should be the one running off to India. She could imagine her mother matching Mrs. Daniels’ grief ounce for ounce; two strangers falling into a river of tears. Trisha dialed and soon heard her mother’s cheery voice.

  She couldn’t bring herself to relay Pie’s message, so she handed the phone over, and Pie grumbled about the gravity of the situation and the need for her to get over there quickly.

  After tiring of looking at Mrs. Daniels stretched out on the couch, pillow over her head, Trisha decided to wait outside for Lady Bell. There, leaning against a Greek revival column, she saw a black BMW sliding and trashing to the house, hurling gravel far enough that she flinched. The driver hit the horn sharply and a moment later Daphne appeared, hesitated for a moment on the porch, turning back to the house. A man shouted from the car, and she approached the BMW as though she was hypnotized. Trisha watched Daphne get in and felt her stomach sink. The car pulled away in another hail of gravel. Trisha returned to Pie, and Mrs. Daniels and told them of what she saw.