Remembrance

by Mary Monroe

  “I am so sorry to hear that.”

  Tears pooled in Charles’s eyes, but he held them back. He sniffled and continued. “I’ll never forget all that blood on the floor and on me. Even after I took a bath, I could still smell it on my skin.”

  “I can’t imagine going through something like that and not losing my mind.”

  “My mama had raised me to be strong, so I was eventually able to move on. I had good people in my life. Some of my teachers treated me almost as well as my mama had. And my grandmother was very good to me. After high school and three years in the army, I completed some drafting courses at City College in Frisco. All I wanted to do was get a decent job and make life easier for my granny. She was real sickly by then, so my fiancée moved in to help me take care of her. Granny didn’t last too much longer, though. She had a massive stroke and died two days after my wedding.”

  “How did you get over that?”

  “I prayed a lot. By the end of the first year, I was doing okay. I loved being married. My wife was beautiful and smart. Just like you . . .”

  “Thank you,” I said shyly.

  “We liked to travel and party, so we didn’t want to start our family for at least five years. Unfortunately, when we were ready, Mother Nature wasn’t. We got checked out by three different doctors and they told us that there was no reason why my wife couldn’t get pregnant. Well, it finally happened three years ago. She got pregnant with our first son and made me the happiest man on the planet.”

  “You have a son?”

  Charles shook his head and swallowed hard. “My wife stopped to get gas on her way to pick me up from work one evening and a carjacker shot her. She was eight and a half months pregnant. She and our son died on the spot.”

  There was such a profound look of despair on Charles’s face, I wanted to give him a hug. “Did they catch the carjacker?” I asked, tears in my eyes. No one deserved so much pain in his life.

  His eyes darkened, and his jaw twitched. “They caught him less than fifteen minutes later. The boy was only seventeen and from what they called a very good family. His daddy was a corporate CEO, and his mother’s folks owned three wineries. They had big money and they hired a big lawyer. The kid had no prior arrests, so he got off with a slap on the wrist. He served only two of his seven-year sentence. Three weeks after he got out, he carjacked another woman and killed her too. He got life for that one.”

  I sighed with disgust and shook my head. “Some people are just born bad, even in the best families. If they had given that devil life for killing your wife, the other woman would still be alive. I can’t imagine how all that must have made you feel.”

  A large tear slid from his eye, but he still managed to smile. He wiped away his tear, and continued his story. “Anyway, I moved on. I had a good job, a nice house, and a lot of friends. But when I was alone, the pain of all the tragedies I’d endured hit me like a ton of bricks. I got drunk almost every night until I passed out. Even though I had a couple of friends to spend time with, none of that did any good, though. Things got even worse. My grandmother had left me a nice chunk of change, and I collected a lot more from my wife’s life insurance. I was going to let it all sit in the bank and accrue interest for a while. My plan was to find another wife and try again to have a family. I was going to use the money to make a serious down payment on a house. One of my closest friends talked me into letting him invest part of it. It did well so fast, I invested the rest.” Charles stopped talking and raked his fingers through his hair. His jaw was twitching so hard now, it scared me.

  “Please go on,” I urged.

  “Anyway, this brother and I used to get together at least once a week and have a few beers. We would go camping, or we’d drive down to Mexico to hang out and whatnot. I had his back and he had mine. I thought I knew the dude and I trusted him more than anybody else I knew. When I didn’t hear from him for a week, I called him up and got a recorded message. His number was no longer in service. He had a crazy ex, who’d been giving him a hard time, so I’d assumed he’d changed his number to stop her from harassing him. I went to his house and his landlady told me he’d skipped out, owing three months’ back rent. Well, now I’m really concerned. I went home and called around to some of our friends. They hadn’t been able to get in touch with him either. Several of them had also given him huge sums of money to invest. To make a long story short, the brother had skipped town and hasn’t been heard from since. So, on top of all the other things I’d lost, I’d been fool enough to trust the wrong person. Other than my paycheck and the money I had in my wallet, I had been completely wiped out.”

  “Good Lord.”

  “I couldn’t believe how things had turned out for me. I started missing work, showing up late, and when I was there, I didn’t do my job. I got fired and couldn’t pay rent or any other bills. When I got evicted, I lived in my car until the repo man found me one morning before dawn and had it towed away. There I was, on the street with the clothes on my back, a few items in a backpack, less than twenty dollars to my name, and no place to go. I was so mad at the world, I no longer wanted to be part of a society where so many cruel things could happen to a person like me.”

  CHAPTER 14

  It saddened me to hear how much pain Charles was in. His situation made mine seem so insignificant. I felt sorry for him, and less sorry for myself. My being bored and feeling neglected by my husband and children was nothing compared to what he had to deal with.

  I didn’t expect my life to be perfect, or run as smoothly as it had for so many years. But I still wanted to remain as spunky, wholesome, and positive as possible, without turning people off. If that meant making changes in the way I dealt with everybody, like not badgering them to accommodate me for one thing or another, that was what I would do. I didn’t want another one of my friends to feel the way Natalee Calhoun felt about me. I had decided not to call her again to see if I could restore our friendship. I’d leave that up to her. In the meantime, if anybody needed some emotional support from me, I was more than willing to give it. And right now, that was what Charles needed.

  “Don’t blame yourself for what happened to you. And don’t give up. You’re still fairly young, so you have time to turn things around,” I said gently.

  “I know and I’m working on it.” He gave me a guarded look.

  I wondered how many other people he had told so much about himself. Other than that woman I’d seen him talking to at the tent encampment, I had never seen him converse with anybody else. He was not the only one who’d bared his soul to me. Strangers would approach me in public and immediately start telling me all kinds of personal information about themselves. I didn’t know if it was my friendly face, or the fact that I displayed so much patience once they got started. Of all the people who had used me as a sounding board, Charles was the most intriguing. I could have sat and listened to him all day. “Thank you for sharing your story with me. I have a feeling you’ll be back on your feet soon.”

  “I will. I have a cousin who owns a dairy farm in Erie, Pennsylvania. He wants me to move there and work for him. We’ve been chatting a lot lately.”

  “Oh? How do you communicate with him?”

  “I rent a post office box he sends mail to. And I use the computers at the library to e-mail him. Listen, I didn’t mean to go off on a tangent and bore you with my . . . my tale of woe, as they say. I hope I didn’t depress you. I’m sure you hear enough hard-luck stories from some of the other people you help feed.”

  “I don’t mind listening to hard-luck stories. It makes me want to help people even more. And, yes, I’ve heard quite a few stories.”

  “Oh? You want to tell me about some of them?”

  “I’ll share just one with you, because this is a subject that’s not easy for me to discuss.”

  Charles held up his hand. “You don’t have to tell me anything at all. But I appreciate your being willing to.”

  “Let me tell you this story. Talking about thes
e things every now and then helps me keep things in perspective and stay focused on what I do to help those in need.” I sucked in a deep breath and continued talking in a low, steady tone of voice. “Years before I joined the staff at Sister Cecile’s, I worked at a rescue mission. A few of the women—and men—used to tell me some of the details of their situations, and it still haunts me to this day. I remember one pregnant woman who had escaped from a very abusive boyfriend. She said I reminded her of her niece, so she’d talk to me off and on all day. The boyfriend broke into the mission one night and beat her into a coma. She lost her baby, but she lived.” I had to pause for a few seconds because my stomach was turning. “Three years after I started working at Sister Cecile’s, that same woman came in one day to eat breakfast. Her real name was Regina, but she called herself Hope. She had no family or close friends, so when she got too sick to work, she ended up on the street.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  I shook my head. “Hope never ate with us again. But she returned to the same rescue mission where I’d met her and stayed with them for a while. One of the case managers I used to work with over there called me up one day recently and told me that Hope was doing better. She has a full-time job working at a warehouse, and there’s a very nice new man in her life.”

  “I’m glad to hear her story had a happy ending. I’m sure that poor woman was glad she had a compassionate person like you to talk to when things were still rough for her. You’re the first person I’ve ever shared so much personal information about myself with since . . . well, since I hit rock bottom.”

  “Why did you decide to tell me?”

  “I noticed right away how well you interacted with some of the other people who eat at Sister Cecile’s. I’ve heard more than one say that you’re the nicest person there.”

  “I love knowing that people appreciate me. It’s a blessing and I’m grateful for it.”

  “I sure was grateful for my blessings . . . when I had them.”

  “You may not think so, but you still have things to be grateful for. You’re in good health, and you have a place to sleep and eat. Think about all the millions of people who don’t even have those things. Plus, you’re good company. Talking to you makes me feel good, and that’s another blessing that I’m grateful for.”

  Charles nodded, but he looked embarrassed. Then he glanced at the clock on the wall. “I guess I should get going, though. You are a very patient woman to sit here and listen to a sad sack like me. I hope I didn’t put a damper on your break.”

  “Pffft! Not hardly! You made it more memorable.”

  “Thanks.” Charles scratched his head and blinked rapidly a few times. I couldn’t decide if he was shy, nervous, or both. “Listen, Bea. Um, if I don’t see you again before the holiday, I hope you’ll have a very merry Christmas.”

  “I’m sure I will. It’s also my birthday.”

  He gave me a surprised look, and then a huge smile. “No kidding? You and the Lord were born on the same day?”

  “Yes, we were. I don’t know about Him, but I came five days early.”

  “You couldn’t be in better company.” We laughed. “Happy birthday to you. I’m sure you’ve made some mighty-big plans to celebrate.”

  “Thank you.” Since so many people had such a lackluster interest in my party, I wasn’t sure if having one was such a good idea anymore. Canceling it seemed like the most reasonable thing to do now. It would be the first time I’d ever canceled one of my parties, and I was sorry that it had to start with Christmas/my birthday. “This is the most important part of the year to me, so I have made big plans,” I mumbled.

  Despite saying that he was going to leave, Charles shifted in his seat and looked more relaxed. I was glad he had decided to stay longer, because I enjoyed chatting with him. “When I was a kid, I couldn’t wait for Christmas season to roll around. We didn’t have much money, but I always got everything I wanted. I did odd jobs around the neighborhood all year and saved up as much money as I could so I could buy gifts for everybody I knew.” He rolled his eyes and snickered. “One year a vendor was selling toothbrushes three for a dollar at the Ashby Avenue flea market. They were a big brand name item, so they didn’t look cheap and they cost a whole lot more in the stores. That’s what I bought for everybody on my list. I spent more on the wrapping paper than I did on the toothbrushes. I was only nine at the time, so I could get away with doing ridiculous stuff like that.” Charles bit his bottom lip and a wistful look crossed his face.

  “Tell me about it. Up until I reached my teens, I received socks, gloves, underwear, or some other lame present for my birthday every year. Christmas was the only time I got toys. And somebody would always throw in one of those dreaded fruitcakes.”

  “I received my share of fruitcakes too, but I appreciated everything anybody ever gave me. I’ve always tried to be the kind of person who gave back in some way. It helped build up my confidence when I did something to make somebody happy. Especially when I was young. I used to run errands and do chores for free to help our friends and neighbors. I also babysat kids who were so spoiled and rowdy you couldn’t get a prison guard to watch over them. I belonged to a youth choir when I was still in high school and we used to go out at night and sing Christmas carols,” he said.

  I gulped a mouthful of air. “You mean people actually do go out on the street and sing?”

  “Of course. I did it every Christmas for several years and loved it.”

  “I thought that happened only in movies and on TV. It sounds like you had such a wonderful life at one time.” I stopped talking when a frown crossed Charles’s face.

  “Until I fell down the rabbit hole and disappeared.” He let out a mournful sigh and abruptly stood up. “It was nice talking to you again, Bea. You have a blessed day. Bye.” He whirled around so fast and sped toward the door, I didn’t have time to say another word.

  I left less than half a minute later. I was stunned when I got outside and didn’t see him anywhere in sight. It was as if he had fallen down the rabbit hole and disappeared again.

  CHAPTER 15

  When I got home around five-thirty p.m., I went straight up to my bedroom and turned on my computer. I communicated with people mostly in person or by telephone. I logged into Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and I checked my e-mail almost every day. I decided to visit Craigslist first, and then a couple of employment sites. I did this once a week to see if there was any job information I could print out and pass on to some of the people who ate at Sister Cecile’s. Unfortunately, there was not much and there hadn’t been for a month. More than 50 percent of my e-mail was junk. After I deleted it all, I replied to a message from my hairdresser asking me to confirm an upcoming appointment. I followed up on several books I’d ordered, and ordered a few more. Just as I was about to log off, and without giving it much thought, I decided to google Charles Davenport. I had no reason to believe that he had lied to me about his past. But I was still curious enough to verify as much of his story about his wife as I could.

  With just his name and a search phrase, a link popped up immediately. Everything he’d told me was true. The article even included a picture of him and his wife on their wedding day. He had not revealed enough information about his mother’s murder, so I couldn’t check out that part of his story. Just one of the tragedies he’d endured would have been enough to destroy most people, including me. I suddenly felt unbearably sad. I didn’t know how much longer he would be around, but I was determined to make his visits as “enjoyable” as a visit to a soup kitchen could be.

  * * *

  When I got back downstairs a half hour later, Eric had come home. He was already sprawled on the living-room couch, watching the evening news with a can of beer in his hand. “When did you get home?” I asked, plopping down next to him.

  “About ten minutes ago,” he replied, not looking away from the TV. I looked at the side of his head until he turned to face me. “What’s the matter?”
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  “Nothing,” I said casually. “Why are you asking me that?”

  “You’re acting a little stranger than usual,” he teased.

  He cringed and ducked when I made a fist and gently mauled the side of his head. “You’re walking on thin ice, so I advise you to watch your step,” I scolded. “On a lighter note, how was work today?” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d asked Eric this question.

  He gave me a puzzled look. “No better, no worse.” He blinked and stared at me. “How was your day?”

  “Oh, I had a very nice day,” I gushed. Eric was stunned when I hauled off and kissed his cheek.

  “Uh-oh. What’s with the kiss? What did you do? Please don’t tell me you lost one of the credit cards again, or that you forgot to pay the mortgage.”

  “It’s nothing like that. I just like to let you know I still care about you.” I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “You know, I can’t believe we’ve been together so long.”

  A worried look crossed his face, and with hesitation, he said, “I hope we’ll be together a lot longer.” He reared back in his seat and gazed at me with the worried look still on his face. “Bea, is there something you’re trying to tell me?”

  “No.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. If something was wrong, I wouldn’t beat around the bush.”

  He dropped his head. When he looked back up at me, there was a frightened look on his face now. “If you’ve met someone—”