by Fauna Hodel
“What people?” His evasiveness peaked her curiosity.
“Well, one person in particular. John Scoffield. He’s a Mormon from Utah—well established. He said he’s got some things outside of Lear that I would fit into perfectly—setting up a new company to do work in Saudi Arabia. He told me he’d get us a brand new house, plenty of opportunity, new car. He’s talking big money.”
“When did this all happen?”
“That’s just it. I’ve known him since I started—at least I knew of him. He hardly said two words to me before. Then, right after I met you, he acted like I was his long lost son. He keeps pumping me up.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know! It’s just strange that it coincides with my meeting you.”
“I’ve never heard of this man until just now.”
“I know. It’s just things you shouldn’t know about.”
“What? What things?”
Just then the telephone rang. Quickly, he picked up the receiver as if he were relieved by the interruption, giving him time to think of how not to tell her something.
But as Fauna watched him, his countenance changed. A frightened paleness overtook him as he removed his glasses, placing them on the table and holding his left hand up to his face, as though he were trying to hide the fear. “Oh God, no! It can’t be.” There was a long pause as he stood erect, hanging on to every word. “When did this happen?”
Fauna stood up from the couch, sensing something drastically wrong. “Billy, what is it? What’s the matter?”
He motioned vigorously for her to be quiet with his hand, then returned it to his ear and squeezed his head as if to muscle out the pain emanating from the voice on the other end.
Fauna came closer and stood by his side, wanting desperately to share his agony.
“OK, OK. I understand. I’ll get a flight out tonight—right away.”
He dropped the receiver; his lips and forehead were covered with tiny beads of sweat. His reddened eyes fixed and empty.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” There was no response, just cold fear. “Tell me. What is it?” Fauna rested her hand on his shoulder, trying to absorb the anguish.
“Its my mother. She had a stroke. They don’t think she’s gonna make it.” He took a deep breath and blew through his mouth. “I’ve got to get a plane right away. I’ve got to pack a bag and make a reservation.”
Within thirty minutes, Fauna was driving him to the airport, praying to God that his mother wouldn’t die. Although Fauna had never met Billy’s mother, she had good instincts about her.
It hurt her deeply to see him in so much pain; to know that the one person closest to him was dying. Fauna could still see the sorrow in his face long after he was gone.
As Fauna drove home alone, Fauna couldn’t escape her vision of him the moment he heard the sad news; he was in sheer agony. Fauna coveted that special feeling he had for his mother, his own flesh and blood. From the time he was born, they had shared a mutual love that only comes through a lifetime of knowing that once they were one.
Fauna yearned for that special feeling that had evaded her all of her life and vowed, then and there, to know the one person in the world who could satisfy her hunger—Tamar, her real mother—before it was too late.
Fauna told Momma about Billy’s mother. Jimmie instinctively knew what Fauna was trying to say.
“Patta, when you find you real momma, will you leave me and never see me again?”
Fauna cautiously answered, “Oh no, Momma, I would never leave you—not ever.”
CHAPTER 22
A few days later, Fauna received a call from Billy relaying the sad news that his mother had died. Fauna was saddened. Having just lost Homer to cancer, she empathized with his grief, and her spirit drew closer to him. She knew his pain, and was upset that she couldn’t be there to comfort him.
As she hung up the phone, an astonishing revelation flickered in her mind: Billy had lost an endearing figure in his life—his beloved mother. She had never even met hers. For two years Fauna avoided facing the unpleasant reminder of her bogus life as a woman of mixed race, a usurper of false traditions. Until this very moment, she put off the notion of meeting with the source of the monstrous lie—a lie that had been impossible to merge with her history, the reality of Tamar—face-to-face. The decision was made without hesitation; she knew the time was now. She was going to Hawaii before Billy returned.
She called Billy back. “This may not be a good time to tell you, but I decided it’s time to meet my real mother.”
“Well, when I get back, we can talk about it,” Billy said.
“No, it can’t wait. I’ve got to do it now. I have to find out who she is. My whole life has been a lie, I need the truth. I need to know why God put me in this situation.”
There was silence on the phone, and then Billy said, “I understand how necessary it is. I don’t have a reason for you not to go. I just wish I could be with you, if only just to see the your expression when you meet her.”
“Billy, you’ve meant so much to me, you taught me so much about life, about love, about how to act and to be a lady. I wish you could be with me, too. I’d love to share it all with you, but this is a very personal encounter that I can only do alone.”
“Are you going to leave Yvette with your mother,” Billy hesitated, “I mean Jimmie?”
“No, I’m taking her with me.”
Two days later, Fauna and Yvette were on their way without regrets or second thoughts. When they reached the airport, a delayed flight allowed her a few hours to mull over the events that led her to this point. It was then she realized that all these characters—Jimmie Lee, Marion, George, Dorothy, and Tamar—all had secrets. And, they distrusted one another. They were her real family, her lifeblood. But she was the center, the key to all of their sorrow. Deep inside Fauna felt the need to heal all the wounds that separated her new family from each other, and only then could she bring harmony to her life. She called Dorothy Barbe. Perhaps Dorothy wanted her to bring something back from Hawaii, a souvenir, a hula doll, but more importantly to bring Dorothy closer to Tamar.
“Where are you? You sound so close?”
“I’m close. I’m here at the airport. On my way to meet Tamar for the very first time in Hawaii and I wanted. . . .”
“Oh, no!” Dorothy cut her off, “You mustn’t go there and meet with her! Oh, no! There are too many things you don’t know about her. She’ll fill your head with all sorts of unbelievable stories about everyone in our family. She’ll never tell you the truth, just lies. She’s been that way ever since she was a child. And I ought to know, I’m her mother.”
“But Dorothy, she is my real mother—I’ve got to meet her. I’ve got to know who she is—who I am.”
“You shouldn’t go there. Not until we have a long talk together. She’ll poison your mind. The woman is a pathological liar. She was put in a home for wayward children because of her outrageous stories, and caused all sorts of unbelievable problems for the entire family. Now she has those poor children, who are probably completely brainwashed. She is an outcast from society, a complete and unchangeable rebel who has no regard or respect for anyone or anything.”
Fauna remained calm, “What sort of things will she say? I don’t understand.”
“She’ll tell you terrible things—about her . . . and her father.”
“But I want to know everything. That’s why I’m going. I want to know why she gave me away. I want to know who my father really was, and why she. . . .”
“Never mind asking her that. I’ll tell you why she gave you away. Why don’t you come over here right now, and I’ll tell you everything—the truth—only the truth!”
“No Dorothy, I really want to meet her, before it’s too late. I’ve waited a long time and I’ve come this far. I’m not going to turn back.”
“Well, at least tell me where you are. I’ll try to come and meet with you there at the airport.”
F
auna told her the flight number and departure time, but she felt uneasy. However, her maternal grandmother never showed. Fauna and Yvette boarded the plane and sat in their assigned seats.
Just as everyone settled down, a last-minute passenger came rushing into the plane, made a few thankful gestures to the stewardess and rushed to the seat next to Fauna. He smiled at her and winked at Yvette. He was in his early fifties.
“She’s your daughter?” he asked.
“Yes,” Fauna answered. His eyes widened as he reached for his seatbelt.
“Are you going to meet your husband in Hawaii?”
“No, I’m gonna meet my mother . . .” Fauna said, and then paused, “for the first time.”
He turned slowly and peered at them with a look of concern. “You never met your mother?”
“No, she gave me away when I was born.”
His reaction was the same as everyone else. After that, he kept asking her questions and she answered in detail. Finally, out of sheer exhaustion, she asked him what he did for a living, hoping that he would take over the conversation. He told her he was a detective. It took her only about six seconds before a helpless sense of paranoia overtook her. A detective! The only thing she could think of was that Dorothy somehow must have called George in the Orient to let him know that she was on her way to see Tamar. She could only believe that this man was sent by George to keep close tabs on her. She was afraid, and didn’t answer any further questions about her personal life. She merely chatted politely about Hawaii, and the weather.
As they approached the islands in the early evening, the luminous clouds slowly melted to reveal deep green mountains that tapered sharply to the sea on one side, and graciously rolled to the lights on the other. Fauna was awed by the sight of such a contrast, and excited to be on the last leg of her life-long quest to find the woman of her dreams. She watched the look in Yvette’s eyes, now wide with wonder, and knew that for her daughter this was a storybook adventure. As the plane touched down, Fauna speculated as to where Tamar would be and what she would say, how she would look, what she would wear—an evening dress, a muumuu, summer shorts or maybe a grass skirt. Her mind was fantasizing in all directions. Her steadfast emotions were now somewhere between nervous excitement and sheer terror. The detective spoke to her as the plane rolled slowly toward the terminal.
“Well, we’re here. It won’t be long now before you get to meet your real mother. Are you excited?”
“Excited? I’m very nervous.”
“What’s the first thing you’re going to say to her?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about that all the way over here. We’ve talked on the phone, and I’ve read her letters—over and over again. So it’s not like we don’t know each other—well, we really don’t know each other. I don’t know what I’m gonna do. I’ve thought of fifty different lines, but now they’re all mixed up. I don’t know what to say.”
“I’d give anything to see the look on your faces when you first meet.”
Fauna feigned a smiled, hoping he would go away. She felt uneasy ever since he told her he was a detective. When she led Yvette by the hand toward the door, she felt her own heart pounding loudly enough that she turned to her daughter and said, “Are you OK?” Not expecting an answer. Her senses were excited and the perspiration on her upper lip was annoying. With each slow step closer to the waiting crowd, she wiped the moisture off, but it kept coming back. It was hot and the whirling sound of machinery, people mumbling, and background music from overhead all seemed to make her entrance more obvious. She just knew that everyone there in the terminal was waiting for her, the long-lost daughter, coming to meet with Tamar.
She wanted to be right for the occasion. With just a few feet to go, a small bottleneck developed and everyone slowed down to a snail’s pace. She took a deep breath, held it in, and then walked with her head high in search of the woman who gave her life more than twenty years ago.
There she was, just 30 feet away, waving her hand frantically. Fauna’s heart began to beat louder and louder. She began to quicken her pace. The detective grabbed her arm, and held her back. “No, that’s not her,” he said. She squinted to get a better look. He was right, the woman didn’t look anything like her mother’s photo.
She glanced quickly at all the faces in front of her. None of the others were looking her way. It was easy to tell that they had other things on their minds. She felt relieved, less uncomfortable. Her pace slowed and she stretched her head to peer around a group of people who were placing strands of ginger leis around an elderly couple. Everyone was smiling and happy. There were other people with leis, too, all waiting for someone. She stopped near the end of the open area and turned to see where Tamar was. She looked at every person in that section of the terminal. Within five minutes almost everyone was gone, with the exception of some of the employees of the airline, a soldier, and a young couple who were still holding each other tightly.
She turned just in time to see the detective walk toward her with a woman by his side. At first she thought it was Tamar, but that notion quickly vanished. The woman looked nothing like the photo.
“Where is she?” he asked, “Don’t worry, she probably got caught in traffic or something. She’ll be here. Oh, this is my wife, Grace.”
“Aloha, and welcome to Hawaii,” Grace said.
“Hello,” Fauna replied.
“Grace says there’s been an accident that’s blocking two lanes of traffic. Why don’t we wait around a little just to make sure?”
“Oh no,” said Fauna, “That won’t be necessary. We can manage by ourselves.”
“Nonsense, we don’t mind at all. It’s one of the great things about living here in Hawaii—the aloha. Besides, I’m sure it’ll only be a few minutes, anyway.”
She thanked him, and together they waited. They told her all about Hawaii. It was far different than what she imagined. Fauna phoned Tamar, and then paged her but both calls remained unanswered. Outside the air was sweet and damp. For an hour, they waited near the baggage terminal, surveying passengers departing in taxis and buses every few minutes, but no Tamar.
“I don’t think she’s gonna make it,” the detective said, “Why don’t you and your daughter come home with us? We have room. Or, if not, can we drop you off at one of the hotels.”
“No, that’s OK, she’ll be here,” Fauna said.
The detective glanced at his wife, and then said, “Well, why don’t you at least make a reservation to return home. You can always cancel it. Just to be on the safe side.”
Fauna just smiled and nodded.
“Here, this is my phone number,” the detective said, “call if you need anything. We really don’t want to see you alone in Hawaii disappointed like this.”
“I guess it would be a good idea to make a reservation and just go back home. It’s a long way to travel for nothing,” Fauna said.
As they talked in front of the baggage terminal, she noticed an old van, painted like a Peter Max poster, drag itself near the curb. It was noisy and fumes filled the air. Three children in the back seat slid the door open and jumped out first. They all had long hair, and were dressed in shorts and T-shirts. In the mercury vapor lights of the airport, their small faces glowed from their golden tans. Then a barefooted woman clothed in wraps of dazzling colors caressing a flower lei, stepped out and glimpsed toward them. Fauna’s heart beat mercilessly. A chill cooled her skin, then suddenly changed to hot. The emerging hum of background noise was all she heard as her whole life flashed in front of her. The detective’s wife was chatting on about something, but she might as well have been talking to a signpost. Fauna ignored her as her palpitations became louder and faster. Her mind focused on the lady with the leis.
The woman pointed to Fauna and slowly, as if it were a small band of hippies getting ready to embark on a long camping trip, they began to walk toward her. All of her years in Sparks and Los Angeles, dreaming thousands of dreams of her “vision,” had never pr
epared her for the sight of this group of flower children. Her thoughts unraveled. Everything flowed in slow motion.
The three little boys acted shy, each trying not to be out front, but staring her way. Fauna barely noticed. Her eyes were fixed on the woman from the photo, only now it was real, and she was smiling. The barefooted boys, all handsome, walked ahead of the woman who advanced with robes billowing out to catch the light breeze. She stopped within a foot of Fauna and Yvette.
“Eieeeee,” the woman screeched, “Ooooh, my God! I can’t believe it’s you!” She fell to her knees in front of them, shrieking.
“Tamar?” Fauna gasped, and her eyebrows lifted skyward as her head followed the motion of the figure on her knees. This woman was not the faceless image that she dreamed of each night as she cried herself to sleep. This was not Doris Day, nor her vision, nor her quest. But this was reality; and a twenty-one-year odyssey played out.
“Hello? Tamar?” she said.
“Hello! Aloha! Oh, let me look at you!”
Fauna looked away, downward toward Yvette. “This is my daughter. Yvette, this is your grandmother!”
“Oh my! What a beauty!” Tamar arose and glanced back at Yvette.
The detective and his wife stood innocuously by revealing expressions of disbelief. Tamar seemed to be incoherent and overcome with emotion, but she acknowledged their presence. They were relieved that she had finally arrived, and left without good-byes.
Now she was alone with her real mother. “Oh my, how long I’ve waited,” Tamar said, “When I saw your eyes, I knew it was you. I knew it was the same baby I held so many years ago. Even then, when I saw the expression on your face, it seemed to ask a question, like, ‘what’s going on?’” She unraveled some tissues and began to blow her nose. “And now, all this time has passed and you have that same puzzled look. I’ve held that memory of you—the only memory I had for so many years—and now you’re back with me,” she began to cry painfully, as if someone had strangled her heart from the inside.