One Day She'll Darken

by Fauna Hodel

  God love you and keep you.

  Sincerely,

  Sister Ann, ACSW

  Director of Social Services

  It was the letter Fauna had hoped for, but it told her nothing whatsoever about the whereabouts of her real mother. She was dejected, but still there was a ray of hope. At least someone actually knew her mother, even if for only a brief time seventeen years ago.

  The following morning Fauna showed the letter to Sister Hillary, “Don’t look so depressed, dear; you’ve learned quite a bit from this letter. For instance, they know that your mother did not give you away, but was obviously forced to do so by her mother and grandmother. Also, your grandmother was not very wealthy, and your adoptive mother must have known your grandmother or more probably your great-grandmother, but she is not telling all. It also appears that your real mother was not nearly as mature as you were at the same age.

  “So you see, things aren’t always as bad as they appear on the surface,” Sister Hillary paused, gazing at the ceiling. “In about two months, I have to go to San Francisco on hospital business. Perhaps, if I get a chance, I’ll snoop around and see what I come up with. In the meantime you can write another letter.”

  “To who?”

  “The Missing Persons Bureau, of course.” She left holding her finger up to her lips, reminding Fauna to keep everything a secret.

  With the exception of Jimmie, Fauna kept the secret. Jimmie seemed delighted by the letter, even though it wasn’t helpful.

  Fauna wrote to the Missing Persons Bureau in San Francisco, but after weeks with no response, Fauna’s thoughts turned to more pressing matters such as trying to keep Jimmie out of jail. From what the police told Fauna, Jimmie had came home by taxi and stabbed a cab driver in a dispute over the fare. Jimmie was in bad trouble this time. Although the driver was not seriously injured, the police had their fill of Jimmie Lee Faison episodes. They thought it best to keep her locked away for a while.

  While her mind was occupied with Jimmie’s plight, her body was caring for two households while working full-time at the hospital.

  Finally Fauna received a letter from the Missing Persons Bureau; the investigation had turned up nothing. There were no records of Tamar Hodel whatsoever. Fauna wasn’t discouraged, just very disappointed. Except for telling Momma during her frequent visits, Fauna kept the details to herself.

  To make matters more complicated, Luanne, Fauna’s co-worker at the hospital, had decided to run away from home. She moved in with Fauna and Bobby, making their small apartment that much more crowded.

  A few weeks after Luanne moved in with them, Fauna found a note on her desk at work.

  “I found some interesting things in you-know-where. Meet me at 3:00 near O.R.

  — Lucy.”

  Fauna was so busy with everything else going on in her life that she forgot about Sister Hillary’s trip to San Francisco. Fauna met her as planned. The nun motioned Fauna toward an empty room.

  “I got your note . . .” Fauna said.

  “Shhhh,” Sister Hillary peeked through the opening before she closed the door. “We mustn’t be too careful, spies everywhere you know.” “Did you find out anything about my mother?” Fauna said. “Where is she? Did you see her?”

  “I told you not to expect too much, and no, I didn’t find your mother, Fauna. I’m sorry. But I did go to St. Elizabeth’s and managed to talk my way into seeing the records of your mother’s case that were tucked away in some old files.”

  “You got the records! How did you manage that?”

  “Never mind,” Sister Hillary said. “Let’s just call it professional courtesy.”

  Sister Hillary sat down and opened her notebook, “Now let see, I found out that your grandfather was a Russian Jew who was considered a genius. Your family was very wealthy. They left San Francisco and moved to the Los Angeles area, but it didn’t say where. The only thing that was useful was an old address on Fillmore Street where your grandmother was living at the time. I checked out the old house, but she no longer lives there. The neighbors aren’t very talkative, if you know what I mean.

  “Nearby, there was a small church which I had been to many years ago, so I decided to stop by.” Fauna gave her a quizzical glance. “I don’t know why, either; I guess I came down with a bout of nostalgia or something. Anyway, I met this woman, an old woman who seemed to belong there for some reason. We chatted a bit. During the conversation she asked why I came to San Francisco and specifically this church. I told her why I was in the neighborhood, and the next thing you know, I let out the whole story of your life!”

  She paused for a moment, and checked out in the hallway. “I am sorry, I really had no right to tell anyone what you told me in confidence, but this woman seemed so interested, I just found myself talking and talking.”

  “That’s OK, Sister,” said Fauna. “It doesn’t matter, everybody knows already. So what did she say, anyway?”

  “Well, that’s the interesting part. This woman said it was Providence that brought me to that church and brought us together. Although she didn’t know these people personally, she had heard of them. She said that it sounded as if your mother was a real troublemaker, and that she caused her family a lot of pain by becoming pregnant. If she was any kind of mother, this woman told me, she would have tried to find you a long ago, and that it would probably be best for you to let go and get on with your life, and leave your real mother alone.”

  “That’s it?” Fauna asked.

  “Sorry, yes. That’s all.”

  Fauna was disappointed at not learning more, but later she began to think that there was something that didn’t sit right. Sister Hillary wasn’t telling her something, Fauna felt, but she was too confused to identify it. It would have to wait.

  A few months later Jimmie was released from jail. She looked older and not very well. Her sobriety didn’t last. She began to drink again. Fauna put the thoughts of finding her mother on the shelf. Her job, Yvette, and Bobby, were keeping her quite busy.

  Fauna spoke to Luanne about the letter from the Missing Persons Bureau and about Sister Hillary’s discovery that the family had moved to the Los Angeles area.

  “Maybe you could hire a private eye, you know, like on TV.” Luanne said.

  “No, I can’t afford that. There’s gotta be a cheaper way.”

  “I know, how about a newspaper ad. I see that all the time, people put ads in for missing cats, rings, everything,” Luanne said.

  “Yeah, but which paper?” Fauna said. “There are dozens of papers. I don’t even know where to look.”

  Fauna folded her hands, “There must be something Sister Hillary wasn’t telling me. That old woman at the church must somehow be connected.”

  “I know, I’ll check the phone book in Southern California,” Luanne said.

  Fauna straightened up, “That won’t cost anything, either,” she said.

  The following day, Luanne spent her lunch hour at the public library and searched most of the cities on the West Coast. She found three Hodels listed in the white pages of the Los Angeles directory. She was surprised and delighted to see her friend’s name in print. She returned and gave Fauna the information. That evening, Fauna called all three numbers and began asking questions about Tamar. The first two had no idea what she was talking about, but the third call Fauna made was to a Marion Hodel in Manhattan Beach.

  “Hello, Mr. Hodel?” She didn’t wait for him to reply, since this was her last hope and she was anxious for a confirmation. “I am trying to locate Tamar Hodel. Do you know her? She’s an old friend of mine. I haven’t seen her in a few years.”

  “Tamar Hodel?” he said, “Why yes, I do.”

  Instantly, Fauna’s whole body tingled. She felt flushed. “I’m her daughter!” she said.

  There was silence; he said nothing. Then Fauna’s voice began to quiver. “It was from a long time ago. She gave me away when I was born—to a Negro family in Reno. Do you remember anything about that?”
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br />   Again there was silence. Then he spoke, but this time his voice was more guarded, deliberate. “Now there was something about someone in the family, a distant relative whose name was Tamar.”

  Again, Fauna couldn’t wait for him to answer. She was sure he knew who she was. “You do remember? Do you know where she is? What does she look like? Where can I get in touch with her?”

  “No, I’m sorry, I can’t remember anything. You’ll have to find someone else who may know. Good bye.” The line went dead. She knew by the tone in his voice that he indeed did know something. But what, she didn’t know. Fauna thought about calling him again, but decided it would be less threatening to write him a letter explaining her circumstances in detail. Maybe that would refresh his memory, maybe he would help.

  Fauna told Momma of the phone conversation. “I’m not surprised he hung up on you. Those whites don’t want to get involved with no black people, especially ones that’s gonna bring them a whole heap a trouble,” Jimmie said.

  Fauna moved toward the window and folded her arms, looking out at the street.

  Jimmie continued, “What do you think they’re gonna do when they find her, huh? I’ll tell you what. They gonna keep it to themselves. Besides, how do you know if she even wants to see you in the first place? Don’t you think she would of tried to get in touch with you after all these years?”

  A week later Fauna received a letter from California.

  May 29, 1970

  Fauna

  I am so very happy and glad that you followed up your phone call with a letter, because as it happens you did contact the right “Hodel.”

  Your grandfather is my cousin and is now living in the Orient. However I don’t have his address, but will secure same from his son who is living in Los Angeles.

  Steve Hodel, your grandfather’s son, contacted me about 4 months ago trying to trace some family history. I hadn’t seen him since he was about 5 or 6 years old and your grandfather had him at that time. This is over 30 years ago.

  As soon as I can get in touch with Steve and get your Grandfather’s address I will send it on to you, and he might also have information on your Grandmother.

  This is a short note but wanted to get it mailed at once as I know this will be of interest to you.

  Sincerely

  M.E. Hodel

  PS —Your mother would be a half sister to Steve.

  MEH

  Her knees weakened as she sat down at the kitchen table. Her heart pounded as she read the letter over again, concentrating on each word, one at a time. Her hands quivered and a chill tightened her skin, yet she felt warmth inside of her heart. It was a dream; this couldn’t be real! All the dreadful times she spent alone, wondering if her mother was real, or whether this life she was living was just a bizarre cosmic joke played by a restless God. It was now close to affirmation. They were real; her mother was real!

  Fauna immediately wrote another letter with a long list of questions and sent it off to Marion. She told anyone who would listen what had happened and what was going to happen, as if she already knew the results of Marion Hodel’s search. Fauna envisioned a gala awakening by a host of relatives gathered around an enormous fireplace all awaiting her arrival. A party! No, a formal reception with speeches and gifts and flowers with everyone making a fuss over Tamar’s long-lost daughter! It would be wonderful.

  Within a week Fauna received a second letter in response to her enthusiastic query.

  Dear Fauna 6 – 5 – 70

  Again, a very, brief note to let you know that I received your second letter and am still trying to get your grandfather’s address in the Orient. I haven’t been able to contact Steve for the last week or so.

  As soon as I do will forward the information on to you, and at that time I hope that I will be able to have found out more information from Steve. As I said before I know how anxious you are and that is why I am writing these short notes so you will realize that I am working on this for you and not just forgetting the whole thing.

  Sincerely,

  Marion Hodel

  Fauna was impatient and did not want to wait a minute longer to hear from him, but she knew it was best to let matters take their own course. She prayed for strength so as not to fall apart and make a fool of herself. The following day, another letter arrived from Marion with the complete address of her grandfather in Tokyo. This was it! Fauna knew if she persevered and prayed hard enough, she would have what she wanted. Without a moment’s hesitation, she sat down and wrote a letter to her grandfather.

  Bobby was just as excited and gave her all the encouragement she needed. He knew how anxious she was to find her grandfather or possibly her real mother, and did his best to keep her occupied with chores so that she wouldn’t burst with excitement. Jimmie softened somewhat, too. She realized that inevitably Fauna would renew contact with her imaginary rival. Jimmie calmed down her behavior so as not to be alienated from her Patta. She became encouraging, maternal, and considerate, often giving opinion as to the eventual outcome. But it fell on deaf ears, since Fauna’s mind was already set and nothing was going to change it.

  A month before her ninteenth birthday they received another sad message from Los Angeles. Jimmie was informed that Aunt Lucille died during the night. Fauna was heartbroken. It meant that they would all go down to Southern California for the funeral, an event that she did not look forward to.

  On that same day, Fauna received another phone call. The operator said it was overseas. She was too grieved to think of who it could be, and at the time she really didn’t care.

  “Fauna Hodel?”

  “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “This is Dr. George Hodel. I am your grandfather.”

  The blood rushed to her head. Her emotions were awash in a sea of confusion. She didn’t know what to say. Her mind was blank. He was her grandfather, and her feeble attempts at an appropriate salutation surely distorted his perception of her.

  He got right to the point. “In your letter there were many questions, all directed toward one purpose.” He paused. “Why do you want to get in touch with Tamar, your mother?”

  Fauna was stunned by his frankness and mystified by his question. Yet somehow she felt she would not get another chance. “Dr. Hodel, if my trying to find Tamar puts her in any danger, or interrupts her lifestyle in any way, please don’t tell her. Just send me a picture so that I can lay down to rest this obsession that I have.”

  He chuckled then said, “I can assure you that it will not endanger her lifestyle. She’s in Hawaii. You mentioned in your letter that you were married and had a daughter.”

  “Yeah, her name is Yvette,” she said.

  “Let me ask you something. Is your husband Negro?”

  “Is he Negro? Sure he is. I’m part Negro myself. A black family raised me in a black community. Why wouldn’t I marry Negro?”

  “Yes, of course. I will let Tamar know that I spoke with you and she’ll be in touch. I would love to meet you. The next time I’m on the West Coast, I’ll make sure that I make time to meet with you.”

  “Oh good. In fact, we’re on our way to Los Angeles in just a little while. My Aunt Lucille just passed away and I’ll be there for at least a week.”

  “I may be able to get there at the same time. Why don’t you give me the address and phone number where you will be staying and I’ll get in touch.”

  Fauna gave him the information and was delighted that he warmed up somewhat.

  Then he said, “Fauna, this is very important: Under no circumstances are you ever to call or get hold of Marion Hodel—ever! I’ll explain it to you when I see you in LA.”

  She agreed and they said good-bye. She didn’t understand. What was going on? Immediately Fauna called Marion Hodel, but there was no answer.

  CHAPTER 19

  Jimmie was unusually solemn. On the trip to Los Angeles for the wake and funeral, she reminisced about her sister and their early days in Canton. Fauna drove while Yvette slept in the back
seat.

  “Lucille was always going to church, more than all of us put together. She took right after Big Momma,” Jimmie said. “I remember once when Big Momma was too sick to get out a bed. It was a holiday, like Easter or something. Lucille thought it’d be shameful not to go to services that everybody was planning on. As much as Big Momma complained, and she was sick, too—I mean really sick, Lucille wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Jimmie paused then looked over at Fauna. “She made Big Momma go to church. She was stubborn like that, forcing everybody to do what was right.”

  “I know Momma, I heard that story before, about a dozen times,” Fauna said. Jimmie turned away toward the window and the endless farmland outside. Fauna bit her bottom lip and said, “I talked to my grandfather yesterday. He called me.” Jimmie did not respond, just sat looking out the car window. Fauna relayed the conversation she had with George Hodel. Jimmie said nothing, just reached into her bag and gulped from her flask of gin and 7-Up.

  Fauna ignored Jimmie and focused on something that was much more personal to her: Tamar. I wonder what she’s like? Maybe, my grandpa will have a photograph. Of course he will, it’s his daughter. I wonder what he’s like? As soon as she returns from her vacation in Hawaii, I know my grandpa will tell me that he spoke with her. Soon I’ll meet my real grandfather. He’ll adore me because I am his long-lost grandchild, and he’ll tell me everything.

  As her mind drifted back, she heard Jimmie going on about Aunt Lucille and their childhood. Fauna was no longer comfortable with the small minds, petty arguments, and lack of ambition of those around her. Something new was about to open up for her and she refused to permit past prejudices to interfere.

  By the time they reached Los Angeles, they were worn out from the journey and the emotional drain. Jimmie had consumed too much gin. She was becoming irritable.

  Aunt Lucille’s home was busy. People from the church, relatives, friends, and acquaintances milled about renewing old friendships as if the solemn occasion were a class reunion. Jimmie entered first and then Fauna brought in Yvette, closing the door behind. A few heads turned, but most people didn’t know Jimmie and merely acknowledged her presence. Dolly came up to Jimmie, put her arms around her and said, “Our sister’s gone.”