M.I.A.

by Michael Allen Dymmoch

  Jimmy

  The nurse told me I had a visitor, and before I could ask who, the state trooper came in. He was dressed in a suit, but I could tell he was a cop. For the first time, I was glad to have amnesia.

  “You Jimmy Fahey?” he asked, even though I bet he already knew the answer.

  “Who wants to know?”

  He handed me a business card that said “Sergeant Dan Crowley, Illinois State Police.”

  “This about the accident?” I asked.

  He nodded and sat down on the visitor’s chair. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “What do you remember?”

  “It’s kinda foggy—I left home on Friday to go to Greenville. Then I woke up here.”

  “Who would know what you did over the weekend?”

  I squirmed a bit. They’d told me the accident happened Monday morning. “Maybe Beth,” I admitted. Or not.

  He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “Who’s Beth?”

  “My girlfriend.”

  “What’s her last name?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Cute, kid.”

  “No. Really. I have amnesia. Ask the nurse.”

  “You remember what you were doing in Greenville?”

  “I have a job there Saturdays and every other Sunday.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Cleaning cages and feeding the dogs at the animal hospital.”

  “You have any hassles at work?”

  “Not that I remember.”

  “Okay. You remember the name of the animal hospital?”

  I told him.

  He took out a little notebook and wrote it down, then said, “You worked on your car lately?”

  “Just changed the oil.”

  “Not the brake fluid?”

  “No. Why?”

  “You got any enemies?”

  “Just the Greenville goons.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Just some jerks who live in Greenville.”

  “Could they have tampered with your brakes?”

  “I never let them get that close to my car.”

  “Do you know their names?”

  “I call them Moe, Larry, and Curly.”

  He gave me a don’t-fuck-with-me look and said, “That’s helpful.”

  I said, “If I knew, I don’t remember.”

  “Anyone else who doesn’t like you?”

  “There’s this creepy deputy sheriff.”

  “What makes you think he doesn’t like you?”

  “I don’t know. He’s got this thing for my ma, for one, even though she doesn’t like him. He’s always hanging around our street—like he’s doing speed traps, even though our street’s a dead end and there’s only four houses on it. So who’s he gonna catch?”

  “I see. He said anything to you about your mother?”

  “Yeah. He said he thinks she needs looking after.”

  Rhiann

  The night before he went back home, Steve stayed at my house. After dinner, I lit candles, and we stayed up late drinking wine and reminiscing. Steve rolled a joint, and lit it.

  “How did Mickey slip past the rest of us?” Steve asked.

  I smiled to cover the remembered sadness. “Smoke was gone. Billy was MIA. You were so needy…I needed stability. Mickey was there. I didn’t recognize the thousand-yard stare when I first saw him. I thought he was exotic. He was as troubled as Smoke, but he didn’t let me see it. He was always my rock.”

  Steve took a long drag and passed the joint to me.

  “The day he was killed he woke me up singing ‘You Are My Sunshine.’” I sucked in the sweet smoke and passed the joint back.

  Steve took a long drag and let his breath out slowly. He looked sad. “We loved you even before Smoke told us about Rhiannon’s birds singing to lure men.”

  Billy and Steve.

  “But I always turned you down.”

  “Yeah, but you never made it hurt.”

  I smiled. “I never thought about it before, but how did Smoke know about Celtic mythology?”

  “Probably read about it.”

  “Smoke?”

  Steve grinned. “Yeah. He made me swear never to tell, but he used to hang out at the library—the times he ran away. I think Mrs. Hammond knew about his old man. And she used to let him stay there—even overnight sometimes. She paid him to shelve books and stuff so he could afford to go to McDonald’s when his old man was on a tear and he couldn’t go home. If you spend enough time in a library, you’re bound to learn something.”

  “But why pretend to be ignorant…”

  “Maybe he was afraid it would get back to his old man. He never got past the fifth grade and he was damned if his son would do better.”

  “I had such a crush on Smoke, I’d’ve put out for him if he’d ever asked me—he never did.”

  “Except that once.”

  I felt a stab of—What? Panic?

  Steve smiled wryly. “After his mother died. Don’t worry. I never told anyone.”

  “Did he tell you?”

  Steve gave me his are-you-crazy? look. “Smoke? Never. I saw him leave your house the next morning. The way you kissed him, the way he looked, I knew.”

  Shortly before midnight, Smoke had scratched on my window. “Rhiann, you awake?”

  I opened it and pulled him inside. He lowered the shade and slid his boots off. I lit the candles that I kept in my room for mood. We sat on the edge of my bed, and I tucked one foot under me. Smoke sat cross-legged, facing me. He looked around the room but didn’t comment. It wasn’t as if he’d never seen it. I’d sneaked him and Steve and Billy up many times when my folks weren’t home.

  He glanced at me and reddened, then looked away. “Nice nightgown.”

  It was a thin cotton floral print, sleeveless and scoop-necked, that came below my knees. I felt myself flush with pleasure, felt a pleasant sensation in my breasts. And lower. “It’s okay to look,” I told him.

  “But not to touch.” He looked everywhere but at me, which made me want to make him look.

  I put my hands in my lap, pulling the slack out of the gown’s front. I knew my nipples showed through the thin material. “It’s okay for you to touch.”

  He got even redder. I’d never seen him scared, but he looked wary. “I didn’t come here to make out.”

  “What did you come for?”

  “To say good-bye.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ll let you know when I get there.”

  “When’re you coming back?”

  “When I get here.” He grinned at his own cleverness.

  “Take me.”

  “Can’t. Your folks’d have the National Guard out looking for us. And anyway, I can’t support you yet.”

  Yet! Smoke didn’t use words carelessly. That “yet” was the first clue he’d ever given me that I was other than a pal. I said, “Do you have to go now?”

  He glanced at me again and shuddered and said, “Yeah, I do.”

  I grabbed hold of his shirt. “Kiss me good-bye.”

  He hesitated. I gave him my most imploring look. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine.

  I was still a virgin, but I’d read plenty of romances. I opened my mouth a little and slid my tongue against his lips. I rubbed my palm against his fly. I could tell by the way he responded that I was getting something right.

  He pulled away; I leaned forward to kiss him again.

  He said, “If you keep that up I won’t be able to stop.”

  “So?”

  Later, when I was lying against the curve of his shoulder, feeling more contented than any time in my life, I had to ask. “Have you ever done that before?”

  “Sure. Lots of times.”

  I jabbed his ribs with my elbow. “You lie!”

  He laughed. “I’ve been saving myself for you.” He squeezed me tighter; I got the feeling th
at he was only kidding a little. “But if you tell anyone I said so, I’ll deny it.”

  We dozed off. He woke me when he bent over to kiss me good-bye.

  “Don’t go.”

  “I gotta. Your dad’ll have my balls if he catches us.” He kissed me again. “Your reputation’s safe with me. I promise.”

  His exit wasn’t as dramatic as the one in Romeo and Juliet, though he returned three times to give me one last kiss. The third time he even climbed back in my window. When he disappeared through the back hedge, I finally got the point of that sappy line in the movie about “parting” and “sorrow.”

  “Why did he go?” I asked Steve. “Not because of that?”

  “Nah. I gave him a ride to the bus station. He told me he had to leave or he’d end up killing his old man.”

  “But forever?”

  “He came back twice—after you and Billy got hitched. Then for Billy’s memorial.”

  “I didn’t see him.”

  “You weren’t seeing much then. And after Billy was declared KIA, Mickey was always around, protecting you.”

  “I wish I’d known.”

  “You mean Billy and Mickey just got you on the rebound?”

  I thought about how to answer truthfully but kindly. “Billy wanted me. And I didn’t not want him.”

  “So maybe it’s best he didn’t come back.”

  “Billy?”

  Steve nodded.

  “No! I grew into love with Mickey. And he was the love of my life. I think it would have been the same with Billy.” I took the joint from Steve and had another hit. “I wish they could’ve found something—a bone, a tooth, a boot—something more than his knife and dog tags to prove he didn’t just vanish in the Twilight Zone.”

  “There’s Jimmy.”

  “He looks like me. But he was always Mickey’s kid. Maybe not genetically, but Mickey’s mannerisms, his morals. There’s nothing of Billy in him.”

  “Billy was a good man.” Steve took another drag. “But Mickey was almost a saint.”

  “It’s sweet of you to say that. I know you weren’t a big fan of his.”

  “Just jealous is all.”

  Jimmy

  Bein’ in the hospital is real boring. They have TVs in the room, but most of the time—’specially during the day—there’s nothin’ on worth watching. I couldn’t explore the hospital ’cause I was in traction. I tried to read, but it gave me a headache. Mostly I just slept—when I could—and listened to the Walkman John brought me.

  One day, I don’t know how long after the accident—which I still couldn’t remember—I asked the nurse if I could get a phone in my room.

  “That’s up to your mother,” she said. “She’d be responsible for the bill.”

  I couldn’t ask Ma—not that she wouldn’t let me—’cause I’d have to tell her why. Which is why I was really glad to see Finn when he showed up after school.

  He was carrying my backpack—the one I haul my books in, back and forth to school. He dropped it next to the bed and sank into the visitor’s chair.

  “Finn, do me a favor.”

  “What, man?”

  “I gotta get in touch with my girl. She’s probably going nuts wondering what happened to me.”

  “Not if your ma told your boss what happened.”

  “Holy shit! I bet she didn’t even think of that.”

  “Well, why don’t you call him?”

  I pointed to my strung-up leg and said, “Duh. Would you call him for me? Tell him what happened? Ask him to tell Beth?”

  “Yeah, all right. But why don’t I just call her?”

  “I don’t have her number.”

  “What do you think directory assistance is for?”

  “I don’t know her last name.”

  “You been goin’ with this girl all summer and you don’t know her name?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “It’s fuckin’ nuts! What’s the animal hospital number?”

  “I can’t remember.”

  Finn walked out of the room shaking his head.

  When he came back, he looked even more confused.

  “Well?” I said.

  “Your boss thought you didn’t show up ’cause you’d had a fight with Beth.”

  “Didn’t she tell him?”

  “She told him she didn’t know where you were. But he said she’s been really moody, so he figured the two of you broke up, and she was just bummed about it.”

  “Swell. Why didn’t he call my house?”

  “He did, but he didn’t get an answer, so he figured you’d just quit.”

  “Damn it!”

  “Don’t worry. When I told him what happened, he said to tell you, just get well. He’s keepin’ your job open for you.”

  “What about Beth?”

  “She wasn’t there. But he said he’d tell her what happened. Oh, and I got her number for you.” Finn dangled a piece of paper over the bed, just out of reach. “What’s it worth to you?”

  “Give it to me and I won’t kill you when I get outta here.”

  Rhiann

  I was visiting my son after work one day, watering an azalea someone sent him, when his doctor came in to check the leg. At the end of the exam, he told Jimmy, “Three more weeks, you can go home.”

  Jimmy was already in a bad mood. John had told him his car was totaled. He promised he’d help Jimmy find another, but—he told me later—it wouldn’t be the car his father gave him.

  As soon as the doctor left, he demanded, “What am I gonna do in here for three more weeks?”

  “Homework?”

  “That’s not funny, Ma.”

  One of the nurses poked her head into the room, preventing further discussion. “Are you up for a visitor?”

  Jimmy looked at her suspiciously. He’d told me about his interview with the state investigator.

  “She says she’s your girlfriend,” the nurse added.

  “Beth?”

  “She didn’t give her name.”

  “Well, if it’s Beth, sure.”

  The nurse disappeared. He ran his fingers through his hair “Ma, how do I loo—”

  A very attractive blond girl interrupted when she came shyly through the doorway. “Jimmy?”

  He practically bounced on the bed, held down only by the pully system keeping his leg in traction. A blind man could have seen his excitement.

  “Beth” seemed reassured by Jimmy’s reaction. She looked back toward the nurses’ station, then crossed the room in two strides and threw herself on him.

  Neither of them paid any attention to me. I’m sure Jimmy had forgotten I was there. Beth hadn’t noticed.

  “Oh, my God, Jimmy!” she said “What happened?”

  “I totaled my car and broke my leg.”

  I smiled. He certainly had things in proper perspective. And it seemed to take her breath away.

  “I was afraid the goons got you,” she said.

  “Nah.”

  I wondered who “the goons” were.

  “I was afraid…” Beth went on. She swallowed. She looked around the room as if she might find the words she needed. She noticed me and seemed shocked.

  “What?” Jimmy demanded.

  “I thought after…” She took a deep breath. “I was afraid you’d changed your mind about me.” She glanced at me as if gauging my reaction.

  He looked hurt, then seemed to remember I was there. He turned red. “Don’t be stupid,” he told the girl. “Ma,” he said to me, “this is my girlfriend, Beth.”

  John

  I didn’t see much of Rhiann the next week. She was back at work days, visiting the kid in the hospital evenings.

  Wednesday, she forgot to put out her garbage. I knew they never locked the garage, so I let myself in and hauled the cans out to the curb. After the waste hauler emptied them, I put them back. On Thursday, I noticed her grass hadn’t been touched for a while. When I cut my grass, I cut hers, too. By Friday, I was jonesing f
or the sight of her, for the sound of her voice. I could’ve hugged the mailman when she left the Faheys’ phone bill in my mailbox.

  Rhiann got home after nine, and I watched the lights go on and off as she made her way through the house. She only spent minutes in the kitchen—must have eaten at the hospital. The living room lights went back on, and I went across and rang the front doorbell.

  When the door opened, I said, “Hi. How’s Jimmy?”

  I thought she looked tired, but maybe a little happy to see me. She said, “He’s mending. I guess your prayers helped.”

  I let that go and offered her the phone bill. “Special delivery. I wish I could be Ed McMahon.” When that didn’t even get a smile, I added, “You’re tired. I’ll come back and make lame jokes another time.”

  She said, “Don’t go.” I waited. “Please come in. I—I need company. You’re the only friend I’ve got.”

  “What about Steve?”

  “He wants me too much.”

  As if I didn’t. I went in. I didn’t want to take advantage, but if she needed something…

  She closed the door and stepped closer, tentatively. She put a hand on my chest, slid it up to my shoulder. I leaned a little toward her.

  Then she took my face between her hands and kissed me.

  I kissed her back, thinking that it I met her need she might come in time to need me.

  She thrust her hands under my jacket, behind my back, beneath my belt. She thrust against me and her breath came fast.

  I could scarcely stand but I had to ask, “Do you have protection?”

  “Do you have something contagious?”

  I pulled away—the hardest thing I’ve ever done. “That’s not something you should ever take a man’s word for.”

  That scarcely slowed her.

  I said, “Wait here.”

  “I can’t. Wait.”

  I backed away and headed for the door. She needed time to think; I needed a cold shower and my head examined.

  I was walking better by the time I got to the Jeep. The Trojan box was still in the glove compartment. I grabbed a handful and headed back.