As they traveled down Main street, Jessica leaned into Opal and whispered, “I have to go pottie.”
They turned into the McDonalds parking area. It seemed like everyone who was going to the races decided to first go to McDonalds to eat.
The young man said, “You get out with the girl and use the bathroom and I’ll go through the drive-up. I’ll meet you in the Farm and Home parking lot.”
That seemed a little strange but Opal handed over another twenty to Charlie and said to get a hamburger, iced tea and a kids meal with chicken nuggets and chocolate milk for Jessica.
When they finished with the bathroom, Charlie was already in the Farm and Home parking lot. They returned to the garage and picked up the tires.
Opal thought that the tea was bitter but she hadn’t asked for sweet tea so that was probably what was wrong with it. She felt tired. That’s the last thing she remembered before Jessica woke her up in the cabin.
No wonder her purse and cell phone were missing. Charlie must have taken them. She wondered if he had put something into the bitter tea.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Opal had been dreaming of Ruth. My friends and family must really be feeling badly about Jessica and my disappearance but what were these friends and family doing about it? Opal’s thoughts were interrupted by Jessica’s voice.
“Did you have a cell phone when you were a little girl?”
“No, dear. Not when I was a little girl. We had a wooden box on the wall with a crank on it to turn that would ring our neighbors’ phones.”
Opal remembered that it was in the 1960’s before a plastic dial phone was installed. Prior to that, she had a wooden phone on the wall. You had to call central to be connected to their homes. People sometimes shouted at others listening in on the private conversation to hang up the phone because household noises could be heard on the party line. Opal’s ring was two longs and one short but if it rang one long continuous ring, signaling an emergency, everyone was supposed to pick up and find out what that emergency was. Usually, it was a fire. Now the Attica phone system was in the museum at the Marion County Park in Knoxville. Jessica would probably wonder how you would hang a phone up since you don’t hang up a cell phone. . . .It sure would be good to get her cell phone back.
Jessica said, “I think a cell phone is better because you can keep it with you. Where is your cell phone?”
“I can’t find it, dear. If you find it please give it to me.”
Jessica decided to search for the cell phone as she crawled around on the floor.
Opal saw that the little girl was going to get filthy but she would get dirty whenever she moved so Opal didn’t say anything. There were more dish towels that could be used to make into temporary dresses.
Opal thought again about the company houses from the coal mines. Whenever the stove was shaken to remove the cinders, the air was filled with coal dust that landed on everything in the house. No wonder the miners’ kids were often dirty.
Jessica tired of her search and crawled up onto the bed. Soon she was sleeping peacefully.
Opal looked around the shack. Most of the company houses were moved when the coal mines closed or the houses were torn apart since the wood, doors and windows could be reused at the new location. This place hadn’t been moved or torn down. It was more substantial than most mining homes so it was probably the foreman’s house. Opal had found a drawer containing tablecloths and dish towels plus odds and ends that included needles, thread and a scissors in another drawer. It looked like whoever left wasn’t taking the household goods with them. Maybe the woman who lived here had gone to a nursing home or something. Opal found two bobby pins but no hair brush or clothes. Opal wondered if someone had taken the woman to a hospital or straight to a nursing home.
Opal wrapped a tablecloth/skirt tighter around herself as she hobbled to the door to explore.
A creek was nearby. Was it the Cedar Creek or the English Creek? You could hear water flowing. If it wasn’t too far, she could wander out and clean her feet. It would be great for Jessica to splash in the water. It would cool her off.
Shuffling to the front door was difficult enough. She just couldn’t walk out of here. It wasn’t a good idea to start walking. If Jessica fell into the water, Opal wouldn’t ever get her out.
Opal’s foot hurt her something awful. She turned to sit down by the table when the words above the hooks caught her eye. She read “Clara, Ann, Peter, Mary.” She struggled to remember where she had seen something like this before. Either some family had a lot of kids or these were names for kids in a one room schoolhouse where the children could hang their coats. Could this have been a one room schoolhouse? Maybe the old maid school teacher was allowed to live here after the grammar schools were consolidated. That explained the chalkboard. But what about the man’s jacket? Somehow it didn’t look like the man who owned them lived in the cabin at the same time as the woman. The man’s jacket was more for a young man with loops to hold shotgun shells. Maybe it had later been used as a hunter’s cabin. That would explain the cans of food. If two men, each, had two cans of food for a three day weekend, that would mean twelve cans which is what was on the shelf. Maybe the men had gotten a deer on the first day of hunting season, decided to go home and had just left the food. Thank God for the food! But when Opal got home, or to the hospital, what she really wanted was a cup of coffee.
Opal’s thoughts returned to Ruth. Three weeks after our husbands’ disappearance, some fishermen found their bloated bodies. Ruth and I went to the hospital to view their bodies for identification. It was definitely our husbands but the bodies were in awful shape. Some of their fingers and parts of their faces were gone where fish had eaten them. We both went to the nearest bathroom and vomited our lunch.
My husband was a good swimmer but Neil was not. I thought that the boat must have capsized throwing Neil in the water and that Mark must have died in his rescue attempt.
Of course, I never told Ruth my thoughts. Poor Ruth. She was beside herself with grief. I felt just as badly but someone had to plan the funerals. I chose plain caskets since there couldn’t be a viewing. We had a double funeral because neither of us felt we could go through this twice and it would be unthinkable not to be there for each other. There were many eulogies given for each man in the memorial service at the church.
Although no one forced Ruth to leave her home, she knew that the parsonage needed to be vacated for the next pastor. Ruth’s daughter from Des Moines came and took her home. Most of Ruth and Neil’s furniture and household items were put in storage.
Based on the fact that we were almost fifty years old, and no longer responsible for under age children, we couldn’t get Social Security or Aid to Dependent Children. Ruth had a small pension from the ministerial association but it wasn’t much. No one wanted to hire a teacher who was fifty years old and had not taught school for many years. Ruth was able to add to her income as a substitute teacher after she had taken some supplemental classes in Des Moines.
George took over the farm work but since he lived in Cedar Rapids, it was a long commute. Nancy didn’t like it when he stayed overnight at my house because she didn’t want to be alone so the whole family moved into my house with me.
I loved my granddaughters, Susan and Sarah but the spoiled darling of a daughter-in-law didn’t like living in my house. We had different ideas about child raising and food preparation.
The solution was that I deeded all but the eight acres of farm ground that the house sat on to George and Nancy. With the equity in George’s home in Cedar Rapids plus a small mortgage on the deeded farm ground, he was able to build a house for Nancy that satisfied her. She liked her flower garden in the city so enjoyed being able to raise both flowers and vegetables.
Twelve years later, Ruth’s son in Marysville found a used mobile home and moved it onto a lot next door to his home. He also found an old car for Ruth to drive so she could see me. Now I could see her more than once a month.
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br /> Poor Ruth. Jessica’s and my disappearance was probably causing her to relive the days when we waited for our husbands to return without knowing if they were dead or alive. Did my family and friends think that there wasn’t any hope that Jessica and I were alive?
Why do I have the naive hope that someone will rescue us? I guess that I’m naive. I’ve even been told that I look naive. I always try to find the best in people and believe in miracles.
I truly believe that if you feel the shadows of the past and meditate on people and events in them, you will see where God has led you on divergent paths to today. Then you will see and appreciate today. You may even feel the vibrations of tomorrow.
What do you want me to do God? Do you still have work for me to do? Can I bargain with you for a rescue and work for tomorrow? Even if I am not going to survive, please save Jessica. She is a precious child and should have a long life ahead of her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Jessica jumped out of bed. After using the commode pan, she danced around the cabin singing a song. Opal wished that she had that kind of energy. She tried to listen to what Jessica sang but could only make out words about bunnies going hippity hop. Another song was about friends.
“I like your singing.” she stated. “Where did you learn that song?”
“I sing with Billy when we watch Sesame Street. That’s when mommy is working with the old people. I know some songs from Sunday school too.” She started to sing, “Jesus loves me this I know for the Bible tells me so. . . . I never hear-ed a Bible tell me anything.”
“The word is heard, not hear-ed. The Bible is a book that tells us stories about God and Jesus.”
How come Jessica didn’t know what a Bible was? She went to church and Sunday school and we prayed before meals. Then Opal realized that Jessica had been in the church nursery until last December when she turned three. Since then, she sat by us for the beginning of the church service until after the childrens’ sermon. Then she was excused for childrens’ church where she heard a story and colored pictures. We didn’t use the Bibles from the pew but only read from the projector screen at the front of the church. We didn’t often use the word Bible but said Psalms or Matthew or the name of whatever book from which we were reading. She didn’t see me read my Bible because I read it in my bedroom. My bedroom was my refuge. If Susan had company or the noise of the TV was too much or I just needed to rest, I went to my bedroom. Jessica was told to never bother me there.
I wish I had a Bible in this little shack but there weren’t any books here.
I tried to remember the last picture Jessica brought home from Sunday school. Wasn’t it about David and Goliath?
“Jessica, do you remember the story about David from Sunday school?”
“You mean when he took rocks and hit the giant, pow, in the forehead and killed him? I like stories about babies best. Moses was a baby when his mother put him in a basket and put him in the water. Why did she do that? Didn’t she want him anymore?”
“Yes, she wanted him but a wicked king wanted to kill the Jewish babies. She put him in the basket to protect him. A princess found him and took him to the palace.”
“I liked the story about when Jesus was a baby. He was born at Christmas time just like me.”
“That’s right.”
“Granny, is that story true?”
“Yes, all the stories in the Bible are true.”
“Billy says that most stories aren’t true. You know, people make up stories like they do on TV. Billy is smart. He’s five,” she informed me.
Opal smiled at the thought of “old Billy” at age five. Jessica loved Michelle, who babysat with her while Susan worked in the nursing home. The three-and-a-half-year-old year old also liked Michelle’s son Billy and followed him everywhere.
“Some stories are pretend and aren’t true. When I was a little girl, these made up stories mostly began with- Once upon a time. But all the stories in the Bible are true.”
“Tell me a pretend story, please.” Opal thought about the Sunday the class had stone soup and the story that she told her class.
The lesson was about the five loaves and fishes that Jesus used to feed the five thousand or more people. She said that it was a miracle but that if people cooperated and shared they would all eat well. Then told the class about stone soup.
“This is a pretend story but I suppose it could be true. It seems that it was war time and the people in the small villages were afraid of strangers. A traveler came to their town and asked for water which they gave him. Then he said that he was hungry but the people said they had no food. The traveler said that he would make stone soup. He picked up two stones, washed them and put them in a pot.”
“Eww.” Jessica responded. “Did they eat stones?”
“No,” Grandma responded. “The traveler asked if anyone else had anything to add to the soup pot. The butcher said that he had a bone with a little meat on it. Another person found an old dried up onion. A woman said she had few carrots. Another had two potatoes. After these items cooked, the people all ate and said that they had never tasted such good soup.”
Opal remembered when she thought that the class should try this. She asked everyone to bring a cooked vegetable or a can of food for next week’s Sunday school lesson so the kids in the class could eat stone soup.
She put a beef roast in the crock pot, brought two washed stones, a beef bone and told everyone to follow her to the church’s kitchen. Everyone brought a can of vegetables. They cooked it all together and had lunch.
“Did the kids like the soup with bones and stones in it?”
“Some of them did. It was good soup.”
“I like soup from a can that Mommy gets hot in the microwave better.”
There was no use telling Jessica what happened next. Nancy brought an enormous pot of chilli and some carrot sticks as Sarah’s contribution. She probably thought that the kids would be happy with the carrot sticks but of course the carrots wouldn’t cook in the time allotted for Sunday school. After church Nancy told me that she thought there wouldn’t be enough soup so she brought the chilli. Of course when the kids saw the bone and stones, they wanted chilli and almost no one ate Grandma’s soup. Opal was angry that Nancy had sabotaged the lesson of sharing and cooperation.
Opal thought about her feelings about Nancy. Maybe I should excuse her because of her upbringing. Because Nancy had rheumatic fever as a child, she was coddled and served all her life. That’s why George was the perfect husband for her. He took care of her. He provided all the necessities of life. He paid all the bills. She didn’t need to think for herself because he would do it for her. He was very strict and stern with their girls. He was known for his moral character and that’s why he couldn’t accept a daughter who danced, smoked, drank liquors and had tattoos. What would the minister say and what would the neighbors think- was his creed.
Nancy would never think of taking a job and George would be horrified if she tried to. She had no hobbies and few women friends. George didn’t want her to go to the SPARKLE meetings because she would be asked to work on church projects. And she “didn’t have the strength.” She never thought for herself but took the wedding vows seriously, including the promise to obey her husband. The most challenging thing that she had to think about was what to have for supper.
Nancy is sweet and even tempered. She is quite pretty because she spends a lot of her time looking after her appearance. She went to the beauty shop at least once a week after her daughters were old enough to drive her there. Then she shops for clothes and gets her nails done. She renewed her makeup every time she prepared a meal so her husband wouldn’t see her without it. She needed to be pretty for him. When they lived with me after Mark’s death, I used to wonder what she looked like when she got out bed in the morning but she was always the first up and already had her makeup on. I tiptoed into her room early one morning when she lived with me but it was too dark to really see her. I wonder what she would say
if she could see me now with my hair unwashed and my tablecloth skirt.
Like Nancy, I like to be neat and clean but I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.
Is it my fault that George never consulted her about anything or never asked her opinion? When he was growing up, he always knew that I spoke my mind when it was important to me. Nancy does seem to be a happy person. She is obedient, even submissive. George puts her on a pedestal and seems to adore her even though I never caught them kissing or holding hands. He gave her everything she valued while expecting nothing from her. He just wanted her to be there whenever he came out of the field and expected food. Of course, he wanted his food at regular times. Unless there was a break down of equipment, or other emergency, he wanted breakfast at 7, coffee time at 10, lunch at noon, coffee time again at 3, supper at 6 and a snack at 10 while he was watching the news.
Was it six or seven days since she had disappeared from her home? Opal couldn’t remember. The first couple of days she was drugged and seemed to be in the dark all the time because of the thunder storms. Both she and Jessica had slept on and off for hours.
She had questioned why this had happened to her and the little girl. Then she became angry. She even bargained with God to do whatever He wanted her to do if she could just be rescued. Then she became despondent. Now she felt resignation.
She heard a thump. Someone or something was in the cabin. There wasn’t much light in the cabin from the moon and stars coming in the window. Opal sat up in bed, slid along the mattress until she could touch the table. She felt for the candle and the tin of matches she had placed on the table.
“Who’s there?” she called in a panic stricken voice. There was no answer. Was this a rescuer or someone sent by Charlie to harm them?
Opal lit the candle and held it high. The noise seemed to be coming from under the bed. It wasn’t likely that a person had crawled under the bed. Jessica was still asleep beside her. It must be a raccoon or opossum. They were nocturnal creatures. Usually she wasn’t afraid of sounds that went bump in the night but now circumstances were different. “Oh God,” she said aloud. “I hope it’s not a skunk.” Living in this cabin was bad enough but if a skunk sprayed in here, I know Jessica and I would have to live outdoors.
The Search for Grandma Sparkle Page 10