Desert Star

by Lisette Brodey

  “I’m really glad you’re happy, Mom. I was hoping you would be.”

  “What’s the job? Flipping burgers at Mickey D’s? Pumping gas? Supermarket bag boy?”

  Larsen took a deep breath. “I’ll be working with River’s mother, Mrs. Dalworth. She’s the project manager for a building restoration in town, and I’m going to be her assistant. You know, run errands, sweep up, do stuff on the Internet.”

  Raylene nodded. “I see. Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. Actually might be better than the jobs I just mentioned. Maybe you’ll learn some good skills.”

  Filled with relief, Larsen got up and went over to give his mother a hug. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had done so, but it felt good, despite the very weak hug he got in return.

  “It means everything to me to have your support, Mom.”

  Raylene looked up at him. “Can’t be unhappy about your working. As long as it doesn’t mess with your studies, I’m okay with it.”

  “It won’t interfere, Mom.” Larsen walked back to the couch and sat down. “I like to study. You know that. And Mrs. D said the same thing.”

  “So, what kind of building will you be working in? That old church on Main Street?”

  Larsen could feel his heart racing. “Um, no, Mom. The Desert Theater.”

  Raylene didn’t say a word. She just sat there in the chair, her eyes moving from side to side, as if she were trying to process what Larsen had just said. As he watched her, his heart raced even faster as he waited for her to answer. Finally, she looked him square in the eye, and he looked back, forcing a smile as he did so.

  Without warning, Raylene turned up the volume full blast, giving her vocal cords a workout. “Oh, hellllllllllllllllll no! Don’t even get me started, boy. You finally give me something to feel proud about, and you’re planning to work in a gotdam theater.”

  “What’s wrong with that, Mom? When I was a little boy, I remember going to see a show with you and Daddy in Palm Springs. Don’t you remember? We went a few times. That’s when I first knew I loved the theater.”

  “Biggest mistake of my damn life. That’s when I first knew—”

  “What? That I was gay?”

  “That’s right, Larsen. That my only son was going to grow up to be a damn homosexual.”

  “Well, if you knew that before I did, then you should know that I didn’t have a choice. You should know that it’s who I am and who I was meant to be. Honestly, Mom, you can’t possibly think that taking me to the theater made me gay, do you? Because that’s ridiculous.”

  Raylene stood up. “I don’t know what the hell I think, Larsen. I just don’t like my son being a damn gay! And you ain’t working in that theater. I’d rather see you flippin’ burgers. You hear me, boy?”

  “Mom, I’m going to work for Mrs. D. This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I’m gonna do it.”

  “The hell you are!”

  To Larsen’s surprise and disgust, the front door suddenly banged open, and Reggie came storming in. Noticing the look on Larsen’s face, he tried unsuccessfully to appear intimidating and stand tall. But he was unable to stop himself from wobbling and had to rest the palm of his empty hand on the wall. “Don’t look so shocked to see me, boy. I got me a key now.”

  “What?” Larsen turned angrily to his mother. “You gave this guy a key? No way! No way, Mom!”

  “Reggie’s the new man in my life, Larsen. You think I don’t deserve that? You think that my life is meant to be nothing more than waiting on rich folks?”

  “But … but you haven’t even known each other two weeks.”

  Raylene eyed the bag containing a bottle that Reggie was holding in his free hand. “Open that damn bottle and pour me a drink ’fore I lose my damn mind.” She looked angrily at Larsen. “We met a month ago, Mr. Know-It-All, and we’ve gotten real well acquainted. So don’t you be sticking your nose into my personal business where it don’t belong.”

  Reggie took his hand off the wall and tried again, with no luck, to steady himself. “That’s right, boy. Listen to your mother!”

  Larsen ignored him and continued to address his mother as he watched Reggie walk crookedly over to the coffee table and pour two drinks into the empty glasses sitting there. “It is my business if this stranger is staying in the same house with me. You better believe that’s my business.”

  “You watch your mouth, boy. Don’t you be giving me any back talk!”

  “Mom, you don’t understand. Not only is he a stranger, he’s got a—”

  “He’s not a stranger to me, Larsen. And before long he won’t be to you, either.” Raylene reached down to grab one of the drinks that Reggie had just poured and took a healthy swig. “My man stays; the job goes. End of conversation!”

  There was no way Larsen was going to let his mother ruin his life. No matter what he had to do or say, he was going to win this battle. “There’s something really important you should know, Mom. About Reggie.”

  Raylene stood up and walked up to Larsen, who stood immediately as he saw her approach. Standing only inches from his face, she lowered her voice in a quiet rage. “And what the helllllllllll might that be?”

  Larsen looked at Reggie, who had just downed his first drink and was pouring another, and then at his mother. “He’s got a wife, Mom. He’s a married man.”

  Raylene turned sharply to look at Reggie. “You got a wife, Reg?”

  “I sure as hell don’t, Raye. You ought to know that. I took you by my place last week. You think I would do that if I had a wife? Stop your lyin’, boy. That’s a filthy gotdam lie.”

  Looking as if she wanted to strangle him, Raylene grabbed Larsen by the shoulders and shook him. “Why would you say such a thing? Isn’t being homosexual sin enough? You need to be a liar, too?”

  “I’m not lying, Mom. I met her. Last Saturday.”

  Reggie downed his second drink and threw his glass, watching it shatter as it hit the wall and fell onto the floor. “Filthy liar, boy!”

  Larsen and Raylene both reacted in surprise as the breaking glass interrupted them. Larsen backed away from his mother and walked to the end of the couch. “I’m not lying. She was a real pretty lady. She had her hair up on her head, and there was this white flower in her hair. I met her at the movie theater. I went there in the late morning because I got up and saw you …”

  Raylene gasped, realizing that Larsen had seen her lying naked on the living room floor.

  Fearlessly, Larsen pressed on. “I had to get away. I got to the Mystekal Sands about forty-five minutes before the movie started. The theater was empty, but I didn’t care. I just needed to be alone. Then this lady came over to me. She said she was very sorry to bother me, but she was worried that I might not be okay. We talked, and she told me her name was Martha Joy.”

  Reggie’s eyes opened wide. “What the hell!”

  “I didn’t figure exactly who she was until she said her whole name, Martha Joy White. She told me that her husband was a trucker and that he cheated on her, and that he didn’t get home until three-thirty last Saturday morning. She said he reeked of Jack Daniels and cheap perfume. That’s exactly what she said. I’m not lying, Mom. I swear to God. I swear on Dad’s memory.”

  Raylene turned to Reggie. “You lyin’ son of a bitch!”

  “I’m not lying, Raylene.” Reggie sat down on the nearest dining room chair he could find. “I had a wife. Her name was Martha Jonette. Only she hated her middle name because it was her grandmother’s name. Jonette Washington was one evil woman. Martha was full of joy. So she renamed herself Martha Joy, but not legally. She just called herself that. Only me and some close friends knew. How the hell did you find out, boy? You snooping in my business?”

  Larsen looked stunned. “I’m telling you for the last time. She told me!”

  “And I’m telling you, boy—and you, too, Raye—Martha Joy White is dead. She died five years ago last week on what would have been our twenty-eighth wedding annivers
ary. You don’t believe me, boot up the gotdam computer and put her name in the Giggle whatchamacallit. You’ll find her obituary sure as I’m standing here. I’m gonna say it one more time: Martha Joy White is dead. God rest her soul.”

  Chapter 6

  “Dude, I’m so glad you came over today. Would have hated for you to spend all Sunday wandering around town just to keep some distance from your mom. But I wish you’d called yesterday.”

  Larsen, sitting on the large beanbag chair in River’s bedroom, looked glumly at his friend. “Well, today and Monday are her days off. I didn’t want to stay cooped up in my room. Especially with my mom not talking to me. What a joke. It sucks when she is talking to me, and it’s awkward as hell when she’s not. Just a bad scene all around.”

  “She’s not speaking to you?”

  “Nope. But she’s real good at shooting daggers in my direction.”

  “Why is she angry with you? You just told her how you met that Martha lady.”

  “Well, for starters, on Friday night, after her brand-new boyfriend got over the shock of me describing his dead wife and knowing her name, he and my mom held court, yours truly being the defendant, only in my case, I didn’t get to mount a defense. The verdict came in, and the jury of two drunks decided that I had gone sleuthing on the web and found out a whole lot about Mr. Reggie Lee White and then used it to purposely break them up.

  “If that wasn’t enough to keep her angry with me, she’s way pissed that I accepted that job with your mom at the theater. This morning she told me to tell your mom, ‘Thanks, but no thanks. Find another gay to work for you.’ ”

  River was furious. “No way, Lars. You need to work with my mom. I don’t know how, but you’ll find a way around this.”

  “Trust me, I will. This is the best opportunity I’ve ever been offered in my whole messed-up life. But when your parents come home later, I do want to tell your mom everything that happened. Is that okay?”

  “Yeah, sure. She’ll want to know. But she won’t let you turn down the job, either. She and my dad went hiking at San Jacinto Mountain for the day. You ever been there? There’s a kickass view of the Coachella Valley. Anyway, Sunday’s usually Mom and Dad’s only day together; the lovebirds like to go on day trips so they can coo at each other without making Jess or me nauseated.”

  “You’re a trip, Riv. And you’re one to talk. You’ve got a girlfriend now. A really nice one, too.”

  “Yeah, she’s pretty cool.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be with her today?”

  River lay back against the headboard of his bed. “Yeah, I’m sure. I really like Gina, but I don’t want either one of us to get into a routine. I spend a lot of time drawing, you know. I need that escape time.”

  “I wish I had a fantasy world to escape into … if I did, I might never come back. That’s quite a gift to be able to draw the way you do.”

  “Too many freaks out there in the world, Lars. Someone’s got to draw them. Record those mugs for the history books. You know?”

  Larsen laughed, but he was alarmed to see River’s expression change so quickly. “Hey, what’s up? You’re going all serious on me.”

  River paused before responding. “I’m just thinking about what you said about your mom and that Reggie White guy accusing you of snooping on the Internet. Do you think he really believes you were checking him out, or do you think it’s just an excuse?”

  “I think he’s totally convinced. And yesterday he took my mom to his apartment and let her search through the whole place to prove that there’s nobody living there but him. So, yeah, they both believe I went snooping just to mess their stuff up. Only they’re wrong.”

  “Do you think the lady you met was a ghost?”

  “Wow, never been asked that before … Well, It was kind of dark in the theater, but she looked and sounded real to me. I never met a ghost before, so I don’t know.”

  “Well, I have. And they can look just as real as you and me. Sometimes.”

  “Reggie said that even if I actually met a woman, which he knows I didn’t, then she was probably Martha Joy’s older sister going around town trying to make trouble.”

  “That doesn’t really make sense. How would her sister even know to say all of that to you? And why would she have been in the same theater? That’s actually more far-fetched than seeing a ghost, which for this town, isn’t far-fetched at all. You hear me, Lars?”

  “Yeah, I do. But my head is just spinning from all of this.”

  River sat up. “Okay. Hear me out. So, if good old Sir Reginald Lee of White thinks that you found some damning shit on the Net, then I’m banking on the very real possibility that there’s something to find. Grab your board, Lars. You and I are going surfing!”

  After jumping off his bed and booting up the computer, River went into the dining room, grabbed a chair, and brought it into his room. “Here. Take a seat next to me.”

  Wasting no time, River typed “Martha Joy White,” but there were no matching results. “Look, Lars, nothing. If the lady’s nickname for herself isn’t on the Net, how did you find it there? What did you say her real middle name was?”

  “Jonette.”

  River typed “Martha Joanette White” but there were still no results.

  “Try taking the A out of ‘Joanette,’ Riv.”

  River typed “Martha Jonette White,” and immediately, the search engine results offered several hits. Choosing the first link, River double-clicked.

  “That’s her, Riv! That’s the lady I spoke to. Look, she’s even got the white flower in her hair in the photo.”

  River didn’t respond. He just stared at the computer screen.

  “Say something! Don’t you believe me, either?”

  Reaching to his left, River grabbed his sketchbook, opened it up, and handed it to Larsen.

  “No way! This is Martha Joy! Did you see her somewhere? You drew her? Crying? Was she crying? Where? Tell me, Riv. You’re killing me here!”

  “When Gina and I went into the movie theater, Gina went to the ladies’ room, and I waited in line to get popcorn for us. This lady was standing against a wall, crying. I’ve always had this weird thing about people crying. I don’t know. I just notice them. It was weird because nobody else even seemed to see her. Or care. If I wasn’t in line, I might have asked if she was okay. In fact, I was going to talk to her after I got our food, but then she was gone. Like I said, Lars, I can see ghosts. But I don’t always know they are ghosts. Not at first.”

  “And you managed to remember her face and draw it so realistically?”

  “Dude, not to be the poster boy for immodesty or anything, but I’ve got some gifts. I can see dead people, and I can draw. From memory. I’m sure I’ve got some gifts with girls, but I haven’t discovered them all yet. Ha ha.”

  Larsen cracked up. “You’re a piece of work, Riv. But I’m freaked. Go back online. What does her obituary say?”

  River scanned the obituary. “Just says she died unexpectedly on October 19. About five years ago. She is survived by her son, Devon Reginald White, Los Angeles; her daughter, Ellie White-Sharpe, of Palm Desert; her husband, Reginald Lee White, and her grandchildren, Amelia White, Trevor White, and Bethany Sharpe. After raising her children, she worked at a hospital in Rancho Mirage. She loved gardening, singing in the church choir, theater, and movies. Her friends fondly remember her love for the Mystekal Sands Theater … get this, Lars, it says she and Reggie went to the movie theater on their first date and almost every week thereafter until their son was born. That makes sense.”

  “Seriously? Nothing’s making much sense to me.”

  “Listen, dude, ghosts hang around places where they were really miserable or really happy. Sometimes those places can be one and the same.”

  “Okay, so if she’s been dead for five years, why did she tell me that stuff about Reggie cheating on her last week? You know, when he was with my mom?”

  “Because she wanted you to kno
w who she was and pass it on to your mom, I guess. She wanted you to know her husband has always been a cheater, and your mom should beware. I’m just guessing here. Stop me any time before I plunge into vapid elucidation.”

  “Say what?”

  River laughed. “Nothing, dude. Just cuddling up to some vocabulary. So, what are you thinking?”

  “Well it’s not that I think you’re wrong, Riv, but there’s got to be more. Do me a favor; type in ‘Reginald Lee White Mystekal,’ okay?”

  Within seconds, not only did Reggie’s picture pop up in one of the hits, but it was a police mug shot. “Way to go, Lars. We is cooking with gas, my friend. Freakin’ A!”

  Larsen was trembling. “What? Tell me. I can’t read sideways. You’re blocking my view.”

  “Give me a sec to read this … Okay, here’s the scoop. Martha and Reggie were married for twenty-something years. He was a trucker for a produce company. One night, he told her he was on the road, in Texas, so she went to visit their married daughter, Ellie, in Palm Desert. Only on the way to Ellie’s house, Martha saw the dude’s truck at a restaurant, one with a bar that’s a real popular hangout for truckers. She called her daughter and told her that she was going inside to see what was going on. She parked her car, went inside, and saw Reggie kissing on some woman at the bar.”

  “Is that what it says in the paper? That he was kissing on some woman?”

  “No, dude. I’m paraphrasing. Using my own words.”

  “Oh, sorry. Go on.”

  “Anyway, when he saw his wife eyeballing him, he threw down his money on the bar and went racing outta there. Got in his truck, drunk as hell, and tried to drive away. Meanwhile, Martha was so hysterical she tried running after the truck. He was smashed and wasn’t even looking where he was going, and she was killed by his truck, instantly. Whoa! That’s horrible!”