Mabel sat for a moment, defeated, and was about to follow when she heard the front door slam.
Dammit, Mabel thought, and then raced downstairs and out the front door. She called out to Hector, but he was gone. Worried now that he might go back to the Hudgens’, she came back inside to get her car keys.
Kerry was still on the couch but had her headphones off and mouth agape. For a second, it looked like she would make a biting remark but then thought better of it.
Mabel felt like she was going to regret asking but did anyways. “I need your help. Can you come?”
Kerry thought about it for a moment. “Can I drive?”
Mabel gave in, too desperate to argue, and said, “Sure.” Then tossed her the keys.
CHAPTER 8
Kerry drove down the access road trailing a forest path that Hector might have taken to the Hudgens’ acreage at the end of town. On the edge of her seat, Mabel scanned the forest, but the sun filtering through the dappled foliage and pine branches created ever-changing tints and hues of the emerging fall colors that made it hard to search for her missing son. Harder still were her shifting emotions, from guilt and shame to anxiousness and anger, for having slapped her son, for having allowed him to hang with those Hudgens boys in the first place. I’m no better a parent than Bill was, she thought, and that hurt.
Kerry asked, “What was that all about?”
Mabel didn’t answer right away. Not happy with Kerry either these past few weeks, she certainly didn’t need any more attitude. But maybe it was time to reach out.
“Hector and I had a fight.”
“I heard that.”
Mabel gave her a look. “The Hudgens’ boys hit him.”
Kerry winced. “Those boys are pigs. You should see them at school, picking on all the younger kids. Well—” She paused. “Except Fred. Hector makes sure they don’t touch him.”
Mabel closed her eyes and sent up a prayer of thanks that she must be doing something right. Then promptly teared up again for having slapped him.
“Hey, uh.” Kerry looked over. “It’s not your fault.”
Mabel wiped the tears away.
“Really,” Kerry said. “You’re only doing your best.”
Mabel waited, ashamed, expecting a biting comment to follow. When none came, she looked over and for the first time saw a young woman instead of a hurt, angry teen.
“You remind me of your mother,” Mabel said at last. “When we were young, we used to tell each other everything.”
“Did she tell you about my dad? About what he did?”
It was the first time Kerry had asked a question about her father, and Mabel did not know what to say at first. In the end, she went with the truth. “Yes,” she said finally. “We talked a lot after your father passed. Every night after work, we talked about her illness, about your dad, you, a lot of things.”
“So, you know he—”
Killed himself, Mabel thought, finishing Kerry’s sentence. “Yes, of course, dear. It was tragic.”
“Did my mother tell you why he did it?”
Mabel nodded. For the insurance, she thought.
Kerry’s eyes misted over, but she kept her gaze on the road.
“He loved you dearly, you know.”
Kerry shook her head, starting to sob. “I don’t think so.”
“He did. He did love you. Oh Luv, I wish I could convince you of that.” Mabel’s heart turned over, but her intuition told her more. “I don’t even pretend to know what it’s like for you. I don’t. And I know this might sound strange, but I asked a friend before you came who went through a similar loss so young. And one of the things she told me was that she had suffered terrible survivor’s guilt after her mother had passed. That she didn’t know why she was still alive, and her mother had died. She felt guilty for being alive.”
Kerry sobbed harder and had to pull over to the side of the road, and Mabel knew she was on the right track and pressed on. “She told me it’s natural to feel guilt when someone passes, honey. It’s part of the process.”
“Why did he leave me?! What did I do to him?!”
Mabel reached out to touch her arm. “Oh, dear, it wasn’t about you. He was in pain. He didn’t think through what it would mean.”
“He hurt us!”
“I know. But he was trying to do the right thing, I think. But I agree it was wrong. He shouldn’t have. But he was having such a hard time coping.”
“He, he never told us. Why didn’t he ever tell us what was happening?”
“Sometimes…” Mabel started and then paused, realizing she didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know. Your mother and I never understood it. All she knew was that John loved you both. But the bankruptcy caused by Owen, his business partner, followed by your mom’s illness, broke something inside him. Didn’t your mom ever tell you this? About his depression?”
Kerry shook her head, wiping away tears. “We never really talked.”
Mothers and daughters, thought Mabel. They could be so similar, just like sisters.
“She blamed herself too, you know, your mom,” Mabel said. “She felt she should have known. Should have seen something. And she wanted to talk to you, but she just… just never knew how.”
Kerry swallowed and then spoke in a low voice. “I hated him. For the longest time.”
“Oh, Luv,” Mabel said. “I can only imagine. But he tried being a good father.”
“Does it ever get easier?”
Mabel was tempted to lie but didn’t. “No,” she said, finally. “It’s just hard in different ways. You gain the strength to deal with something, and life becomes easier for a time, but then something else comes up, it always does. Then you have to learn to adjust and do your best again. You end up making mistakes — lots of them. I know I do,” she said, thinking of Hector and realizing she needed to forgive herself, and him, and move on.
There was silence between them for a few minutes, each lost to their own thoughts.
Then Kerry wiped her tear-stained face, put the car back in gear, and spoke first. “Let’s go find Hector, yeah?”
Not long after, Kerry turned into the drive of the Hudgens’ farm. Frank was out on his porch, rocking his chair, his shirt open, gut out, and chewing on some tobacco.
Mabel burned hot at the sight of him, got out, and made her way to the porch, Kerry just a few feet behind.
“Is my son here?”
“Don’t know, don’t care. You lose him?”
“Where’re your boys at then? I’ll ask them.”
Frank rolled the chew in his mouth to one side. “You thought about what I said?”
“Your boys hit my son, Frank.”
Frank’s mouth curled into a smile. “Your son probably gave them some sass. Boys fight. Happens.”
“I don’t like it that you’re teaching him filth about black kids.”
Frank sneered. “Oh, boy! You think you’re better than me. But you ain’t.”
“I don’t want my son around here.”
Frank spit out some chew and then wadded in another load. “Don’t care for him either. But he needs a father figure. Divorced families like yours ain’t good for kids.”
“I’m not divorced.”
“Absentee father then,” Frank said, then turned crass again. “Maybe you’re looking for a real man now?”
“How dare you! You pig.”
“You and your trucker boyfriend at the diner better watch out.” Frank spat again. “If you’re on my land, it’s my rules. Hector, too. If he comes here, he’s fair game.”
“You hurt my son, and I’ll—” she said, sputtering, too enraged to finish the threat.
“You’ll what?” Frank sneered. “You need a man in a home to look after boys, that’s for sure. Maybe I take Hector in for you?”
“I’ll kill you, Frank. You hurt him, and I’ll kill you.”
Frank sat up quickly and jabbed his finger at Mabel. “Watch it. Don’t you come here and threaten me.�
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“You come to my place, Frank. I’m coming to yours.”
Frank stood up like he was aiming for a fight, but Mabel stepped forward and stood her ground, undaunted, willing to protect her children. Perhaps sensing this, Frank hesitated, then yelled: “Git off my property! I don’t want you here again.” He spit some chew near Mabel’s feet, and it splattered on her pants. “I said, git.”
“You afraid of a woman, Frank?”
Frank waved her off, scowling. “Larson will hear about this!” Then he stormed off into his house and slammed the door.
Mabel’s eyes burned holes through the door before Kerry finally broke the silence. “Maybe Hector went somewhere else? Back home, maybe?”
Mabel breathed out some anger and nodded, and then finally backed off. “Let’s try home.”
Kerry climbed behind the wheel, and Mabel got into the passenger seat. “You sure told him off,” Kerry said with the hint of a smile. “I thought he almost peed himself when you said you’d kill him.”
“He did look pretty scared,” Mabel acknowledged.
“Terrified,” Kerry giggled. “You’re a tough momma bear.”
“I like that. Momma Bear.” Mabel started to smile. “That’s just how I felt: no one harms my family. Fred, Hector, you — no one.”
“I pity da fool,” Kerry wisecracked, mimicking that Mr. T fellow from the television show. Then she laughed, started the car, and drove off the acreage.
Mabel looked out the front window and eased into her seat. What a day, she thought. Worst fight with Hector. Best day with Kerry.
Parenting teens is a nightmare.
CHAPTER 9
Hector was sitting on their porch steps. With legs pressed tight to his chest, he did not look up when Mabel and Kerry got out of the car and came to the porch. Kerry wisely gave them space without Mabel having to ask.
Mabel sat down beside her son. They sat on the porch silently, with the rich scent of pines and forest moss surrounding them like a blanket and making her feel calm. The deep woods across the highway had the odd red or yellow poplar leaf scattered amongst the greenery like embers about to spread a blaze of color over the land. She put her arm around his shoulders, and he let her, though his scowl remained deep and ugly, and only his eyes betrayed vulnerable emotions until he finally spoke.
“I’m sorry,” he said, likely expecting that was what she wanted to hear.
She didn’t like his tone. But he had started, and that was enough. She pulled him in closer, to soften him some more, but his guard was still up, expecting a lecture. She kissed him on top of the head, unsure how to begin, except to return his gesture. “I’m sorry too.”
He blinked in surprise and looked up, thirsting for more.
Mabel cleared her throat. “Violence is wrong, my son, especially in a home, in a loving family. I hit you, and I regret that, deeply. And I want you to know, really know, that I won’t do that again. I promise.”
He cleared his throat, raw with emotion. “Why do you care?”
“I will always care about you, my son. I love you.”
“No, I mean… why do you care about what I said — that word. About black kids. Everyone says it.”
Mabel sighed. “Just because people say it here doesn’t mean it’s right.”
“But you say cuss words. Why is this different?”
“It just is.”
“Black people say that word.”
She nodded her head, not quite having an answer for him. “I know. It’s just… not right for us to say it. Didn’t Mr. Clemens teach you this in school? About slavery and where those words come from?”
Hector shrugged. “Last year, but it was only a page or two, I think. The civil war fixed it or something.”
Mabel frowned, disappointed. “No. That’s not right. It’s not over. The civil rights marches were just after high school for me, but no one in this town marched. No one spoke up about it then, and now I think that was wrong. Their silence did us all a disservice.” She paused. “I am ashamed to say it, but the first time I really understood what black folks might be going through was by watching Roots.”
“What’s that?”
A little embarrassed, Mabel said, “A mini-series on TV. It showed me what life was like for black people in our country. Like that Kunte Kinte character, but for real. How mostly white people put them in chains, beat them, starved them. Families separated, torn apart, forced into a life they did not want for generations. It was terrible, and it happened right here in our land. That’s where that bad word comes from and why it hurts so.”
Hector winced, and then looked down at his shoes. After a long moment, he asked, “Where are all the black kids? There ain’t many.”
“There are lots in our country. Many folks are black or Hispanic or minorities.”
“But not here.”
“No,” Mabel conceded. “Not many.”
“Why is that? They don’t like this place?”
Mabel looked down at the gravel. Thinking about all the times she had witnessed someone in town making black people feel unwanted or not being allowed to feel like they belonged. Not even a week ago, Ken, the gas station owner, had denigrated a black couple in his store. He said it to one of his co-workers but not to her, so she didn’t feel part of it. The couple had heard it too and were affected by it as she had been. Then the shock of the moment passed, and there was no time to signal to the couple that she didn’t think like Ken. “I don’t think they feel welcome,” she said at last.
“Can we make them feel welcome?”
“Of course, son. We don’t have to be like those mean racists in town.”
“But you just said that people who stay silent are being bad too, right?”
“Well, yes, but …” Mabel said, hesitant, not sure where he was going with this.
Then his words sunk in.
She flushed and did know what to say.
Hector’s eyes burned into her, waiting for an answer, and she felt ashamed that she had no answer. Except that maybe Frank was right — she wasn’t as innocent as she had thought. She looked into her son’s eyes, deep wells of thought and innocence, looking to her for a clear answer, but she had no answer to give, only platitudes which seemed meaningless without actions. She drew her boy in and hugged him tightly for comfort. After a moment, she wiped fresh tears from her eyes and said, “I guess I don’t have the answers, son. I don’t know what it’s like to feel racism. But you’re right about the silence. Silence allows racism to flourish.” She looked down at the hard gravel drive and then back to her son and brushed the hairs from his face. “But there’s more we can do, my son. I can see that now too. Maybe we can do it together? Both you and I?”
Hector nodded.
“You are so wise,” Mabel said.
She hugged him, and he squirmed before settling. Then they looked off at the forest together, and after a long moment of silence, he finally came around and agreed to stay away from the Hudgens kids and play more with Fred. It was a start.
CHAPTER 10
Tuesday, September 9
After a customer left, Mabel wiped the diner’s counter, swept the tip into the communal staff jar, and then brought the dirty dishes back into the kitchen. The cook was fixing a special turkey order. Its heavenly smell brought back pleasant holiday memories with Bill and the kids.
She came out of the kitchen, humming a holiday jingle. She saw the empty coffee pot, got the water, poured it into the machine, did a little hip shake, and then scooped up the black grains and added them to the filter. As she pressed the brew to start, two new out-of-towners, a middle-aged couple, came in and settled into the far booth. Their exhausted, strained faces screamed ‘stressed-out parents,’ and she smiled grimly to herself, knowing what that was like. Not even a day after her long talks with Hector, she still couldn’t make sense of it all. Then, after the boys went to bed, she and Kerry had a long talk too, and things got a little more personal and a little more real. Kerr
y asked many questions about her parents, and Mabel shared insights about their hopes and fears, gleaned from past conversations with her sister. It seemed to be helping Kerry’s grief, and Mabel hoped it would last.
The buzzer sounded on the coffee machine, jarring her out of her reverie. She picked up the pot, swept up the menus and made her way over. Mabel reached the couple’s table and said with a restrained smile, “Welcome.” Then poured coffee right away. “On the house, of course. My coffee here is always fresh, free, and fast — especially for parents.”
“Thank you,” the woman replied softly.
Mabel had to strain to hear it, so low it caught her off guard, but she simply smiled in return, and set down the menus and asked, “What can I get you? We have the best home cooking on I-67.”
The man cleared his throat. “Just coffee, please. We’re passing through.”
“Oh, what brings you to Blue River, Luv?” Mabel asked, wondering if she guessed right about them being parents. “Not too many families come up here this time of…” The woman started crying softly, startling Mabel. “Oh, my, I’m sorry, is everything okay?”
The man spoke for his wife. “No, it’s—” He glanced painfully at her. “It’s just that we are looking for where our daughter…” He cleared his throat roughly and then grimaced and shook his head like he couldn’t continue.
Mabel understood immediately. “Oh, my dears, are you the parents of the girl that…” But she couldn’t say it either.
The husband nodded, choking up. “Our daughter, Karen, yes.”
“Oh my God,” Mabel said softly. She set down the coffee pot and reached out to touch his shoulder. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
He swallowed hard, tearing up as well, and then looked away and tried to compose himself.
“I’ve been thinking about you so much,” Mabel said. “I saw your girl.” They both looked up, wiping their eyes. “And she was even sitting right here. In this booth.”
Heart of a Runaway Girl Page 4