Song of the Brokenhearted

by Sheila Walsh

  Ava took a surprised step back. She couldn’t remember her father ever saying she was beautiful. He was good at instructing and giving approval for accomplishments, a verse memorized, or a song sung at church. But approval was different from a genuine compliment. She knew he believed this was protecting her from vanity, never understanding that a girl didn’t grow vain from her daddy’s love.

  The look in his eyes and that singular word from her father—beautiful—shook her emotions from unsteady to critical instability.

  She cleared her throat. “Um, it’s good to see you.”

  He laughed and she noticed his teeth, or rather the lack of several. They were black gaping holes that made him appear even older than he was.

  “Can’t say that I look beautiful, that’s for sure. So your brother told you.” He pulled out a chair with a loud screech along the floor, motioning her to sit down before he sat in the chair beside her.

  “Yes,” she said, settling uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair.

  “And you came to wish me good-bye and good blessings on the journey over?” he said with a wink and set both hands palms down on the table in a gesture so familiar that it took her back to his preaching days.

  “No, that’s not it.” Ava wanted to explain everything in a nice, clean package. But the truth was, she had come because he was dying. “I suppose, in a way.”

  “All right then. Before all that good-bye nonsense, lemme hear about you and yours. I have many years to get caught up on. Your brother tells me you do a lot of ministry work in your church. Your Christmas letters don’t tell me squat really.”

  She nodded, but couldn’t get any words out. How did she fill in all the spaces between them?

  “You’re part of one of those mega-churches?” he prodded as if helping her grasp something to steady her emotions.

  “No, it’s large. But not as large as a lot of the churches in Dallas.”

  “Anything over a few hundred is pretty mega to me.”

  Ava didn’t know what to say to that. He’d been a preacher with a rabid following. Now he was a felon preparing to die.

  “What ministering do you do?” he asked.

  Ava inhaled deeply. “I teach a Bible study on Thursdays. And I’m part of a ministry that helps people in tragic or crisis situations.”

  “That must be a busy ministry.”

  Ava breathed in and out again, feeling her head clear and the sense of being overwhelmed soften. “Getting busier and busier.”

  “And my grandson plays football, I’d love to have seen that. And my granddaughter is getting married?”

  “No, she’s now going to travel in Asia.” Ava wondered how he’d take that.

  He frowned a moment, staring at his hands. Then nodded slowly. “Asia? She’s got to be careful. But good for her. I should have traveled more away from Texas.”

  “Where would you have gone?” Ava never considered that her father had dreams outside of his congregation, though he’d had an entire life she knew nothing about.

  “Israel would have been first choice. To see where the Lord Jesus walked and everything else way back to Moses, and Joshua’s days. But other places too. I once read a book about those Terra Cotta Warriors they dug up in China. I’d have liked to seen that and could’ve ministered there as well.”

  Ava felt a sense of bewilderment that through everything her daddy still had a passion for God.

  “You don’t come see me. I ain’t never seen my grandbabies. But I guess I understand. Prolly would’ve done the same.”

  When had her father start using ain’t? In their other life, he would have whipped them for using slang like that, saying it was akin to profanity.

  “Profanity of the English language,” Ava muttered without meaning to.

  “That’d be correct. Too many years inside. I’ve lived a third of my life in here now, did you know that?”

  Ava counted the years and realized he was close to her age when he was arrested.

  “I’ll bring your grandchildren to see you. They’re grown now, and it should have happened before. I know that now.”

  “I’d ’preciate that. Gotta protect kids from places like this when they’re young. This is a very bad place. For a long while I thought I was like Joseph. Kept expectin’ to start understanding dreams or what not. But now I’ll be freed, though not in the way I expected.”

  “Daddy, I’m sorry I didn’t come see you.” Ava knew her excuses had some validity. Without putting the past behind her, she might not have been the functioning adult she’d been. She could’ve easily turned out like the rest of the family, stuffed in together at her grandmother’s farm. It had taken hard work to not settle for what she’d grown up with.

  “If we let it, life can easily get measured by what we should have done, instead of what good we did. I hope you can remember some good memories.”

  Ava nodded and reached for hands worn thin by age and illness. “I remember, Daddy. I really do.” Then Ava realized he might need to hear some of it.

  “I remember picnics down at the river beneath the willow trees. In fact, I had a willow tree in my backyard in Dallas just to remember the good times. I love the Bible because of your Bible, and I’ll always listen to the sound of people turning the pages. I memorize Scripture even today because of that habit you gave me, and those verses come to mind when I need them, which is all the time. I’ll always remember you baptizing people, how happy they were rising from the water all fresh and new.”

  Daddy covered his face with his hands as tears streamed down his cheeks.

  “Thank you, Father God,” he murmured.

  Ava felt tears on her cheeks as well as she continued, “When Sienna was little, I couldn’t fix her hair without thinking of how hard you tried to get the tangles out of my hair and make me look presentable. She was just like me, fighting against the hairbrush, and I thought I was getting my due after all the grief I gave you.”

  He wiped his face as he chuckled.

  “You were a little hellion when it came to getting your hair fixed.”

  Ava smiled and cleared the teardrops from her cheeks. Daddy sighed deeply and reached for her hands once again.

  “My little firefly, it makes my heart glad to know I gave you something good for all the pain. I hope you will forgive me. I did lots more sins than I let myself see for a long while. Joseph fled from temptation, but I didn’t have the strength. And all the while, I loved Jesus. I hope you know that. The Bible is full of fallen men, so maybe that helped me excuse myself, or I thought it didn’t count when I did it. It caught up to me all right.”

  Ava squeezed his hands, aware of their fragility.

  “But you done well for yourself and your children. I’m proud of that. Anyway, I made that whole cancer thing up to get you here,” he said with a chuckle, and for a second she nearly believed him.

  “Clancy said you didn’t want me to know about it. Why not?”

  He pursed his lips as if considering what to say. “Guess part of me wanted you to remember how I was, looking all young and dapper. I’ve been writing down some things for him to give you. Seems nowadays I’m better with a pen than my words. My mouth has gotten me in a heap of trouble over the years.”

  Ava nearly agreed, but remained silent.

  “I still minister to people here and through letters outside. But time in here has softened an old codger like me into a real kind of humility. Not the humility I thought I had back in the day.”

  Ava understood what he meant. He’d been a showman, shouting and pointing his finger about the dangers of pride, talking about humility as if he owned it, working with the poor and “people of color” as his acts of helping the less fortunate. But in all of that humility was his pride.

  “Your mama really loved you.”

  Ava released his hands, surprised that he’d brought up Mama.

  “You were her joy for a really long time,” he said, and she waited, holding her breath. He sighed and rubbed hi
s eyes, “But I’m getting tired now. I think it’s time I return to the infirmary.”

  “Of course. Are you getting good care?”

  “Yes, very good care. And it’s almost worth the cancer to be staying in the infirmary,” he said with a chuckle. He pushed himself up to stand, stopping partway to study her again. “You look like her. In the eyes and that little chin. Your mama believed in happy endings. I always believed in God’s judgment.”

  “What do you believe now?”

  He chuckled as if she’d told a joke. “I guess somethun' in between the two. Most people don’t have a happy ending here on this ole earth, but we can get us one on the other side. At least, that’s what I’m hoping. Then yer mama, and me, too, I suppose, could have our happy ending.”

  “I do believe it, Daddy. I love you,” she whispered, reaching out to hug him. He sighed as if he’d longed for such words. Ava could feel the outline of his bones beneath his jumpsuit. He didn’t smell of aftershave like he always had, but of age and sickness. And yet Ava treasured the feel of his arms around her, patting her back and whispering his love back to her.

  “My firefly,” he said, kissing her cheek. “You know, God is much more than I realized before.”

  Ava considered the words. She knew what he meant, but it had always hung off the edges of her busy life. The past week opened this up like clouds parting to rays of sunlight. She taught Bible study every week, quoted Scripture, and lived a Christian life. Yet God was more, much more than she could grasp, and her father knew it too.

  Outside the visitation room Ava leaned her forehead against the wall, trying to breathe, trying not to succumb to the sobs as tears dropped to the gray tile floor between her feet.

  Thirty-One

  CLANCY SAT ON THE HOOD OF THE OLD CHEVELLE, LOOKING LIKE James Dean except with a baby instead of a cigarette in hand. He lifted his head and frowned.

  “That bad, huh?” he said.

  Ava closed the distance between them, still unable to speak.

  “Please tell me you didn’t shock the old man again by telling him you’re doing drugs and having sex all the time,” Clancy said as he opened the car door with Emma in one arm. Ava wiped the tears from her eyes and laughed as she scooped up the baby and received a welcoming squeal.

  “I was a little more subtle this time,” she said, kissing Emma’s cheek.

  “That’s a good thing. Remember how you wrote him that you’d become a vegetarian and were considering converting to Buddhism?”

  “I was angry. And I thought he needed to know there were consequences for what he’d done.”

  “Yeah, and a life sentence in prison wasn’t enough.”

  “All right, all right. I apologized later for that.”

  Clancy laughed long and hard at the memory. “I admired you for it, wished I could tell him a thing or two. Anyone else and I’d have done more than said a few words. But Daddy, well, I just never could.”

  Clancy turned on the key to the Chevelle and the engine roared to life.

  Ava remembered the last time they’d driven away—it had been with the windows down and music blaring.

  “It saved you a lot of guilt and a fortune spent on a therapist,” she said, leaning in to buckle Emma.

  “This fine specimen of a man wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for my own load of guilt and my AA sponsor.”

  As they drove, Ava turned back to check on Emma and watched the prison falling away behind them. Daddy was in his box, folded up and put away.

  “Want to stay another night?” Clancy asked after a while.

  A longing for home came over her. Not her house, the swimming pool, or the stump of a tree, but she longed for Dane and her children and the sweet yearning that they brought of a home beyond this one.

  “It’s time for me to get heading back home. I need to make some headway tonight.”

  She made a mental tabulation of her money. With her remaining stash, she had just enough for gas, a little food, and a stay at the Lonesome Motel again. Perhaps she’d see the waitress, Jackie, and tell the older woman all the ways God had taken care of them in the past few days.

  They arrived back at Clancy’s with it still early afternoon. Ava packed up from the night before. She’d been wearing the same jeans since Saturday and it was now Tuesday. Thankfully she’d been smart enough to toss in extra underwear, though she’d only planned on being gone one or two nights. Somehow one or two had grown into three or four.

  Ava made Emma’s bottle, then remembered one last thing she wanted to do.

  “Would do you mind watching Emma for me? I want to see something one more time.”

  “ ’Course. I might just keep the little peanut if you aren’t careful.”

  “It won’t take me long.”

  “The willows?” he asked, taking the baby from her arms.

  Ava bit the edge of her lip. Her brother knew her better than she realized.

  “Yeah. They still there? No subdivision moved in when I was away?”

  “Not with me holding the deed. How about I drive you down there with the little peanut? The road’s gotten pretty rough. Emma and I’ll take a walk in the great outdoors, give you some time.”

  Clancy put Emma in her car seat in the middle section of his work truck, leaning over to entertain her as they went. He made funny faces and airplane noises, which brought smiles and squeals of joy in response.

  “I like this kid,” Clancy said, meeting Ava’s eyes.

  For a split second, Ava nearly said Want her? But she vetoed the joke before it slipped from her lips. She’d grown quite attached to the little sweetie herself.

  “It doesn’t take long for this baby to attach herself to your heart,” Ava said, looking down at Emma.

  “You call her the baby or this baby pretty often.”

  Ava was aware of that. “I know. I must be afraid to call her anything else.”

  “You don’t want to fall all the way in love with her.”

  Ava looked at the road ahead, surprised again at her brother’s insightfulness. He was wasting his life out here all alone without a woman to love or a larger purpose for his many gifts.

  “You know, Thanksgiving is coming in a few weeks,” Ava said.

  “I wondered if I’d get an invitation this year.”

  “Hmm, I don’t know.” She laughed. “You have one every year. You’re always welcome. Now the rest of our family, not so much.”

  “I’ve eaten many Thanksgivings alone instead of going to the family circus.”

  “The kids haven’t seen you in a while, why not come?”

  Clancy nodded. “Just might do that.”

  “We may be losing everything,” she stated without ceremony. “The company, the house, our retirement . . .”

  Clancy turned quickly as if to see if she was serious. “It’s been happening a lot, and to unexpected people.”

  “Funny how in the last few days it’s been the least of my concerns.” She gazed out at familiar fields, bouncing along the road nearly covered in brush and grass.

  “You’ve got a place to come to you, if you need it,” Clancy said, navigating around a large Manzanita.

  “You’d be up for us all moving in with you?”

  “Sure. I’m ready for a big change myself. And I have job security. Everybody needs their car fixed at some point, though I may be getting trades of eggs and beef with how things are going.”

  Ava laughed picturing it. Dane in a flannel shirt out plowing the fields. Jason under a car with his uncle learning the ins and outs of an engine. Baby Emma climbing into a tree fort in the backyard . . .

  “You’re going to be okay. Mi casa es su casa, quite literally.” Clancy laughed. “I don’t see that as your future, but it’s an alternative if you need it. In any case, I’d love to see my family out here more often.”

  “So why haven’t you settled down, found someone? You’re no spring chicken, you know.”

  “Yeah, but I haven’t met the rig
ht woman yet. I got me some high expectations,” he said with a laugh.

  Ava wondered how many single women there were in her old hometown. She wondered what kind of a girl would make a good match. Her mind stopped suddenly on Kayanne. They’d met years earlier before Kayanne’s husband had left her. They’d joked amicably about Clancy sitting at the kid table. But she’d never considered setting the two up. Her brother lived out in the sticks, and Kayanne was a city girl. But stranger things had happened.

  Clancy stopped at the edge of an overgrown meadow. The path to the river was only a faint trail of dual tire tracks with dry, wheat-colored weeds bent and broken above the new green grass that had only just appeared underneath.

  Clancy motioned with his head for her to go on, and Ava suddenly felt like running barefoot and free as she once had as a child.

  Instead she walked slowly, running her hand over the tops of straw-colored grass just as she’d done as a child and then a young woman.

  There along the river’s edge, the five willow trees remained and had grown, though not as much as she expected. Then she realized that her perspective had grown with the years faster than the tree branches. Many things that were grand and exciting as a child were now seen with new eyes—adult eyes—and often found lacking.

  The leaves dripped liquid sunshine toward the earth. She bent low and stood beneath the umbrella of leaves and branches. Beyond the trees the gray-blue water of the Black Rock River moved at its laziest pace of the year before the winter rains filled it up again.

  Ava thought of her journey here. Less than two months earlier, she was planning a wedding and believed things were darn near perfect. She’d been comfortable in her life, confident in her relationship with God, and proud of the family they’d become.

  In such a short time frame, all that she found secure had been shaken. And Ava had taken Emma on a five-hundred-mile road trip. The sweet baby didn’t know where she was going, what was happening around her, or who she’d meet along the way. Yet she knew her needs would be met. She cried out and expected someone to hear her.

  “I guess we can’t all live life like an infant,” she muttered to the air where a breeze stirred up the branches.