Call of the Raven

by Shawn Reilly

  Chapter Thirteen

  Her Song

  Elle pulled Julio’s coat tighter and turned the page. The sun was just starting to rise and the batteries in her flashlight were beginning to grow dim. She had only gotten as far as the second chapter and she wanted to read more even though she was starting to agree with Hatori’s critics. So far the book was depressing and the main character Pain had gone through a major character transformation, and she didn’t like him much.

  With just a paragraph left to go the flashlight died and Elle cursed her luck. Getting up she took the book and the flashlight over to a large flower pot where she grew tomatoes in the summer and hid them underneath. After Julio left for work she planned to bring both the book and flashlight inside. Even though it was relatively warm, more snow was in the forecast and she didn’t want the book getting ruined. Just beyond the fire escape a light flashed in a window—her bedroom and Elle groaned.

  Hurriedly she climbed back in the kitchen window. She removed Julio’s coat and hung it over the chair just like she found it and went to the stove. Turning on the gas flame she rushed to the fridge for the carton of eggs and milk. Elle craved coffee but Julio hated the smell of coffee on her breathe. She couldn’t recall the last time he had kissed her but still she only poured enough water in the pot for him.

  Yawning Julio entered the kitchen just as she finished cooking breakfast smelling strong of cheap cologne and cigarette smoke. Julio usually couldn’t wait for a smoke so he lit up even before he brushed his teeth in the mornings.

  “It’s time you get a job.” Julio said. Elle sat the cheese omelet down in front of him. He looked at the plate and frowned. “What is this garbage?”

  “I thought you liked cheese omelets?” Elle knew he liked cheese omelets because she had made one for him every Saturday morning for the last five years. As a matter of fact he had insisted she did. But this day Julio pushed the plate away from him like he had never tasted one before.

  “Yeah, well sometimes you just get tired of the same ole things.”

  Elle lowered her eyes. She wondered if the name Becky written on the inside of the matchbook she found inside his coat pocket had anything to do with his sudden dislike of omelets.

  “You want something else then?”

  “You are dumb, of course I want something else. I’m going to work and when I get home I want this place clean. You need to carry your weight, and from the looks of you lately you have enough of that.”

  Elle sat her fork down and took several long deep breaths. She had worked until midnight cleaning the apartment while she waited up for him, and that was the thanks she got…to be called fat? Julio grabbed his coat off the chair and put it on. The comment wasn’t the first one he made concerning her weight. Yes, she had gained weight but that was to be expected. She was still brooding over the comment when she realized two things, one—she was alone in the apartment and two—the little girl downstairs was repeatedly calling her name.

  “What do you want Mary?” Elle leaned out the kitchen window. She could see her, leaning out the window below.

  “My mom’s acting funny Elle,” Mary cried, “could you please come down?”

  “If I come down will you promise me you’ll take a bath?”

  Julio had her stomach in such knots and mixed with Mary’s repulsive smell the two often didn’t get along. Mary gave her a nod so Elle gathered up the omelets and made her way downstairs. Julio wouldn’t return until late evening, if he returned at all. The instant the door opened, Mary’s eyes landed on the omelet in Elle’s hand.

  “Remember Mary you promised.”

  “Can I at least eat first?”

  “Yes, just do it at the table.” Elle waved her on.

  Mary’s mother was lying on the couch. Her glazed eyes stared straight ahead. Her mouth was moving but the words were too faint for Elle to hear. Crossing over to the coffee table Elle pushed aside several empty bottles of beer and sat down in front of her. Not even being in the woman’s line of vision stopped her from the sightless staring. Elle could tell that at one time Mea Carter had been a beautiful woman but that was before drinking and depression had taken its toll.

  “She keeps doing that, saying those words,” Mary said.

  Elle looked to where she sat at the kitchen table shoving the last of the omelet into her mouth. The girl’s hunger was insatiable. Reaching into her pocket Elle removed her apartment keys and dangled them in the air.

  “Here Mary, I left two more omelets in the skillet. Bring them down here and grab that instant coffee out of the cabinet above the stove. Your mom needs to get sober.”

  Mary walked over and took the keys but instead of bolting upstairs for the proffered prospect of food, she looked down at her mom instead. “What’s she saying?”

  Elle leaned over and listened. “She ain’t got no money, her clothes are kind of funny.” Laughing, Elle sat back. “Oh yeah, I used to like that old song.”

  “What?’

  “She ain’t got no money. Her clothes are kind of funny, and her hair is kind of wild and free.” Again Elle laughed as she tried to recall the words. “Well, at least, I think that’s how it goes but I do remember the chorus. It was real catchy.” Elle started to sing the rest, “But love grows where my Rosemary goes and nobody knows like me.”

  Mary looked confused. “She’s singing a song about me?”

  “My guess is that’s where she got your name.” Elle reached forward and took the skinny blonde by the arm and pulled her to a sitting position. She started to slump back over but Elle quickly propped her up with couch cushions. “Go get that coffee Mary.”

  When Mary returned Elle was standing outside the bathroom trying not to listen as Mea heaved her guts out on the other side of the door. Taking the coffee jar from Mary, Elle went to the kitchen.

  “Is she all right?” Mary asked.

  “Yes, I believe so,” Elle told her as she put a mug of water in the microwave. She punched the buttons and pressed start. Three cockroaches scurried from the back and disappeared into a mountain of dirty dishes, trash and clutter on the countertop. “You know it wouldn’t hurt you to clean up in here. Your mom may be sick but that doesn’t mean you can’t help her out.”

  “When I help her out it just makes her slip further away because she’s not forced to be responsible…not even for herself.”

  “You know you talk way older than any ten-year-old I know.” Elle took the mug from the microwave and sat it on the counter. She spooned in two teaspoons of coffee and glanced over at Mary. The girl was staring off like her mother but unlike her mother, Mary’s eyes were alive with feeling. “But I suppose you’ve been through a lot. It tends to age you.”

  Mary solemnly nodded. “Should I go take my bath now?”

  “Yes, and use lots of soap.” Elle took the black coffee to Mea. When she dropped down in front of her Elle noticed the woman’s pale blue eyes focus on her. She had been in the apartment for almost an hour but Elle got the distinct impression that Mea Carter was just seeing her for the first time.

  “I’m Elle and I live upstairs. I think you should drink this.”

  Mea accepted the mug. She took a large gulp and her face instantly twisted. “That’s really bad stuff.”

  “And this stuffs not.” Elle picked up a bottle of vodka. “This stuff could strip paint off a piece of furniture and you’re pouring it into your gut like water.”

  “What makes you my conscience? Who did you say you were?”

  “I live upstairs. I said my name’s Elle.”

  “Yeah, I think I heard Mary mention you.” Mea frowned. “You’re the book lady.”

  “I use to be before I got fired. So what was that song you were singing?”

  Mea’s eyes clouded. “Song?”

  “That love grows where my Rosemary goes song.”

  Dazed, Mea slowly lowered her eyes. She took a much longer sip on the mug and this time she didn’t make a face. Elle wasn’t even sure she tasted
the bad coffee anymore. “I don’t drink Vodka. That belongs to my—that belongs to Burly. I just get that way sometimes…in a trance.” Mea told her. “I dream and I see him again and sometimes I don’t want to wake up so I make myself stay there.”

  “Him? Meaning Mary’s father?”

  A tear dropped down Mea’s cheek and she quickly wiped it away. “His name was Grant and I loved him very much. But just like all men do in my life, he left without even telling me goodbye. He used to sing me that song and he told me to always remember it so that’s why I named her Rosemary.”

  Leaning forward Mea sat the mug down on the coffee table. “But sometimes looking at her is more than I can bear.” Mea said. “She looks just like him, except for the hair. She has my blonde hair. Her eyes belong to her father. The first time that man looked at me with his blue eyes I knew I was in trouble. Grant gave me such hope for the future.”

  “You never tried to find him?”

  Again Mea shook her head. “The last night we were together there was something bothering him but he wouldn’t tell me. Every time I asked he would hold me tighter or kiss me again and that always shut me up. He would tell me that he just wanted to live in the moment while he could. He was such a mysterious man.”

  “Maybe he was married?”

  “No,” Mea slightly flushed, “I was his first, ever.”

  “How old was he?”

  “Thirty-five. Look, I know what you’re thinking but he wasn’t living with his mother nor was he some deranged serial killer. Actually his family was very wealthy and I believe he was afraid to fall in love. You know…some women are all about money.”

  Mea sniffed and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her dingy robe. “I just wanted him. I should have known better. Nothing ever good happens to me. People ridiculed me, called me dreamy, crazy. They thought someone like him would never want someone like me. Guess they were right.”

  “What happened to Grant?” Elle asked, totally enraptured.

  “I’m not sure really,” Mea’s voice cracked. “I worked for his family’s company. Word got around that something happened. I asked a few questions and a week later I got fired. When I tried to find out what I did wrong, I was escorted from the building by someone I trusted. I was told to stay away. After that I just drifted away from life…and from everyone else.”

  Elle hung on Mea’s every word afraid to look away or speak for fear she would stop talking. She had never known love nor had anyone loved her so much they would sing her a song. Mea told her how the two met and how Grant made her feel when he took her in his arms. He was strong, powerful and handsome, and Mea had never been wanted or loved that way by a man such as him. When Mea was with him, Grant made her forget about everything else, even her troubled past.

  Grant made her feel that she was the only thing that mattered in his life. Pulling the cushion out from under her, Mea lied down on the couch and covered her eyes with her arm. Elle suddenly felt as though she was intruding but she wanted to hear more. She wanted to hear more about the mysterious Grant.

  “Do you want me to make you more coffee?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so.” Mea weakly smiled. “I think I just need to rest.”

  Elle didn’t want to leave. She wanted to know that Cinderella stories actually did happen to ordinary girls, nobodies like her. She wanted to know that even damaged girls could be wanted. When a thought formed, Elle eagerly spoke. “Do you mind if Mary and I clean your kitchen then. I really don’t have anything else to do. I can stay and maybe you might want to talk more after you’ve rested?”

  Removing her arm from her face, Mea looked up at her. “You’re so pretty Elle. Why do you look so sad?”

  No one had ever told Elle that she was pretty before and meant it. Most of the time it was some boy that just wanted to spend a few worthless minutes with her, and then leave her behind like Mea said. But she had never given in until Julio, and then it was only because she had no one else that wanted her. “I guess because I’ve never known what you had even though it only lasted a little while.”

  Mea quickly sat up. She kept her head down but Elle could tell that she was crying. “I think I’ll take a shower,” she announced. “When I’m not drunk that’s when I go into those trances. I don’t know how to function when I’m not drunk. I don’t want to drink, not really. It’s just the pain is too much. I don’t want to live without him and so far I haven’t found a reason to.”

  “Mea, you do have Mary to live for.”

  As Mea stood, Elle could see the woman’s thinness underneath the robe. “I know and I also know it’s time I let him go. You would think that after ten years I would accept the fact that he’s not coming back.”

  Elle was just finishing up the last dish when Mary finally emerged from her cubbyhole of a bedroom. She had gone in there to change but for whatever reason had decided to stay there awhile. Elle sat the last omelet down in front of her knowing the second Mary shoved the food away that something was wrong. She had assumed her disappearing act was to get out of doing her share of the housework but now Elle wasn’t so sure.

  “Are you mad at me Mary?”

  Mary shook her head. “No, I heard what she said about not being able to look at me.”

  Thinking back Elle replayed the conversation with Mea in her mind and realizing what the little girl must have overheard, pulled the chair around so that she was sitting next to her. “Mary your mother loves you. It’s just you look like your dad and sometimes it’s hard for her.”

  “She doesn’t show it,” Mary said stabbing a fork into the center of the omelet. “I heard what she said and it makes me wonder if she doesn’t love him more than me.”

  “I think that’s wrong for you to say that. Every woman longs to have a man in her life that means as much to them as your dad did to your mom. What happened hurt her deeply, but now she’s just got to find a reason to move on. It’s not in the booze or her boyfriends. Her biggest reason to go on is here with you and I think she knows that.” Elle playfully poked at Mary’s nose. “You sure do smell better Miss Rosemary.”

  Mary pinched one blue eye closed. “Better than before?”

  “Oh, most definitely,” she said.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Elle noticed Mea standing in the doorway and quickly stood. She had dressed in jeans that were far too baggy and a tee-shirt that had seen better days but at least she was out of the dingy robe.

  “I’m sorry. I hope I wasn’t being too presumptuous,” Elle apologized. She removed the apron she had found in the closet and tossed it over the table in front of Mary. Behind her the dishes were drying on a towel and Mea was noticing everything that she had done.

  “You don’t have to run off,” Mea told her as she crossed to the sink. She stopped before a cabinet and started turning the dials on an under-the-counter radio. “You’re an easy person to talk to Elle.”

  “No one’s ever really told me that before.” Elle moved over to where she stood.

  “You are and that’s why the children must like you. You just speak your mind and see behind a person’s faults.”

  “I guess it’s because I have enough of my own.”

  “You said you got fired?” Mea selected a soft melody on the radio and started putting the dishes away. Elle nodded an answer, picked up a towel and started to dry. “What happened?” Mea asked, curiously. “I think Mary tried to tell me but I can’t remember.”

  “The guy said he knew daddy,” Mary blurted, “and he tried to take me to him but Elle stopped him.”

  Cringing Elle sat the mug down on the counter that she was in the process of drying, since Mea’s wide eyes were staring directly at her, and she had stopped putting things away. She had washed her hair but instead of putting the soppy wet strands up in a towel, her hair hung down upon her shoulders, and there was two inches of her natural darker roots showing in contrast to her white bleach job.

  “I don’t know anything about that,” Elle explained. “S
ome guy just tried to take her from the library and I stopped him.”

  “Do you know what he looked like?” Mea asked. A new intensity formed in Mea’s eyes and Elle had a horrible feeling that it wouldn’t take long for that passion to form into obsession. She looked back at Mary and the little girl possibly wasn’t sharing in her mother’s same enthusiasm, but there was definitely something warring in her expression, Elle couldn’t quite place. Her mannerism told her that she had been waiting, almost testing her mother and her reaction. “You must have some kind of description. Elle please,’” Mea pushed.

  “He was wearing a leather jacket with a bird on the front. He had dark blonde hair, and he looked like an actor I saw in an old vampire movie once,” Elle reluctantly said. The look on Mea’s face grew distant and Elle instantly regretted telling her. “Do you know him?”

  “The description fits one of my old boyfriends. I always thought he looked like Kieffer Sutherland. Actually, I was dating him when I met Grant. He hung out with some Harley riders in a group called the Blackbirds.”

  “Well he followed me home afterwards and he let me know he wasn’t too thrilled about my interference.”

  “He followed you home.” Mea frowned looking at Mary. “So that means he might know where I live?”

  “I’m sorry Mea,” Elle apologized as Mea headed for the kitchen door. “I thought I was doing something right.”

  Mea stopped and turned around. “I’m sorry Elle, you did the right thing but my reasons to move on without Grant just got a little more complicated.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Something Broken

  Elle pulled off the plastic gloves and tossed them in the trashcan next to the backdoor. She rested her arms on the windowsill and stood watching the sun, big, round and orange as it lowered behind the abandoned building down the alley. Inside she wondered how something could be so glorious that it could bring beauty to a structure left neglected and uncared for a decade ago.