By the Light of His Lantern

by Abe Moss

  “How does she seem about everything? About Joy, I mean.”

  “Better than me, I think. She’s better at handling most things than I was at her age, or even now. She’s got a pretty good head on her shoulders, I think. I’m proud of her. Though we don’t talk a whole lot. I think these past few days we’ve talked more than we had in years prior.”

  “That’s how it goes. They grow up and suddenly have their own lives, and you’re left wondering where yours is going to go because they were your life.”

  “Is that right?” Catherine asked, her voice on the edge of mockery. Beth smiled embarrassedly.

  “I’ll be the first to admit I have no idea what I’m talking about right now.”

  They both laughed. It wasn’t much longer before their food arrived.

  “I’m sorry to keep bringing it up,” Beth said through a mouthful. “but did they ever find the person responsible? I feel like I should know that, but I don’t think I’ve ever asked, or you’ve ever told me… We haven’t really seen as much of each other—”

  “No, they didn’t.”

  Beth set down her fork. Scowling, her eyes rolled back, mouth still mashing food.

  “It just galls me,” she said. “I’m sorry, but it does. I know you must feel leagues worse about it than I do, but… it just galls me.”

  Catherine took another bite, not saying anything. Her soup turned out not too bad, actually, she thought.

  “It boggles my mind someone could be so heartless. Or careless. I just… I’m sure you’ve thought these things tenfold by now. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine all the things you’ve felt.”

  “This soup isn’t actually half—”

  “I don’t know what I would do if I were in your position,” Beth interrupted. “Probably go mad. I don’t know. I can’t believe someone can just get away with something so vile. I know this only happens in movies, but I would want to hunt them down myself if I could.”

  “Okay, Beth, that’s—”

  “I’m sure it’s happened, you know. Vigilante justice happens all the time. I’ve read stories, in other countries, especially, about parents doing terrible, horrific things to people. People who caused some kind of harm to their children.”

  “Beth, that’s enough.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” She shook her head in distaste, and Catherine could tell very clearly that Beth did not in fact know that it was enough. “I just can’t imagine what you’re going through, and it frustrates me to know you’re going through it. And that there’s nothing you can do. It just…”

  “Galls you.”

  “Yes. It does.”

  Catherine smiled, so that Beth could see she appreciated her outrage. Beth returned it, and it was then Catherine saw the tears which had welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill. She held them back and for that Catherine was grateful. She just wanted to enjoy being out of the house for a while.

  “And I’m just saying,” Beth started again, “I don’t disagree with those parents. If the system we have can’t do anything about it, I don’t blame anyone for taking action on their own. I really don’t. Some people deserve the worst they can get, I think. The promise of hell isn’t enough. Idle superstition just isn’t enough. It’s not. I don’t have any kids of my own and probably never will, but I don’t think those vigilante parents are too far off the mark. I’d be right there with them, tell you the truth. I really would.”

  “I believe you.”

  They ate in silence. It was a comfortable silence, Catherine thought, but she could tell by the squirming and impatient eye-flicking that Beth didn’t think so. She probably felt she’d said too much, which she had. But that was okay.

  “I didn’t tell you this,” Catherine said. “When I went and saw that psychic you referred me to.”

  “Rosaline?”

  “Mhmm. At the end of our session together, she tried to sell me a curse.”

  “A curse?”

  “Did you know she sold things? Aside from her reading rates, she sells spells and curses and things like that. Did you know?”

  “She’s never mentioned anything like that to me. I only go for her readings. Are you for real right now?”

  “I am for real right now, Beth, yes.”

  “Well, what was it for?”

  “She wanted to sell me on a curse for the person who killed Joy. Wanted a lot of money for it too.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  Catherine hesitated. Mulled it over. “I assumed she was preying on me, my naivety. That’s what most of that business is. Desperate people.”

  “That’s so strange. She’s never mentioned anything like that to me. Not even a simple good luck spell or charm or anything, like I’ve read some hokier psychics try to peddle.”

  “Do you believe in stuff like that?”

  Beth thought about it. “I don’t think so.”

  “But you believe in psychics. You believe she can talk to the dead, or tell your fortune, or—”

  “I don’t know that I really believe in any of that!” Beth said, and laughed somewhat reservedly. “I mean… I feel she’s been right about lots of things she’s told me. I guess I haven’t thought too much about it.”

  “But you don’t believe in spells or putting a curse on someone? Anything like that.”

  “I can’t say I do. But again, I haven’t thought much about it.”

  “You think Rosaline is a reputable psychic?”

  “I wouldn’t see her on occasion if I didn’t think so.”

  “Why would she try to sell me a curse, then? If she’s real, then she must believe what she sold me. Right? Otherwise…”

  “I don’t even know her! I’ve just seen her a few times. Really, Cathy, I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “Oh, I’m not looking for an answer, I guess. I just thought it was interesting, was all.”

  They switched subjects. Catherine asked Beth about her life. She was married to a wonderful man, no children and no plans to have them. Catherine thought it bizarre for two happily married people to not have any desire for kids. She couldn’t imagine not having had hers. Of course, neither child turned out how Catherine would have dreamed, but… that was life.

  “I don’t think I’m missing out on anything,” Beth explained. “I’m sure most parents don’t think they’re missing out on anything by having kids. Some do, I bet. But no, my life is exactly what I want it to be. I’m also incredibly selfish.”

  “You’re not selfish…” Catherine said.

  “But I am! I know I am. I’m so self-centered, I’d never have time for kids.”

  They talked a while longer after finishing their meals. Beth went all out on some political rant Catherine didn’t find interesting at all, though she was entertained by Beth’s passion for it, and somewhere around halfway through it she found herself not even listening, but merely feeling glad that Beth wanted to spend time with her at all. She was right. Catherine was lucky to have her.

  Catherine checked the time and startled upright.

  “I should get going.”

  Beth stretched her arms over her head and then placed her hands over her belly to show she was full.

  “Sounds good. Ned is probably home.”

  “Lara, too.”

  They gathered their things.

  “Don’t give her too hard a time,” Beth said. “Breakups are so hard when you’re that age. She’s lucky to have you.”

  Catherine smiled weakly. “Yeah. We’ll see about that.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Lara was sitting in the front room on her phone when Catherine entered.

  “Hey,” she said, putting her phone in her lap. “You’re home. I thought you didn’t work this week?”

  “I don’t, I was having lunch with a friend.”

  “Oh!”

  Lara looked surprised. Was it surprise? Catherine wasn’t sure. Perhaps she thought Catherine spent all her time at home alone staring out the window at the world, wis
hing she had a few cats to keep her company. Or something like that.

  “How was work?” Catherine asked.

  “It was all right.”

  Catherine went into the kitchen. She set down her purse and opened the fridge and took out a pitcher of cold water. As she poured herself a glass Lara entered and took a seat at the counter.

  “Why do you lock the door to the basement?” she asked. Catherine’s heart began a quickening game of jump rope in her chest. “Just out of curiosity.”

  “Oh, did you need something?” she asked. She caught a brief look of irritation on Lara’s face in response, not getting an answer to her question.

  “You’d just said you were looking for some old things of mine that were down there. I thought it might be fun to look through after all. I wanted to find them.”

  “Oh.”

  “But it was locked.”

  “Yeah.” Catherine took long gulps of her water, buying time to think of an explanation. Unfortunately she couldn’t think of anything before she finished, and so she just started talking.

  “I just have a lot of stuff in boxes down there. Old stuff. I mean, things I’d like to hold on to. If anyone ever broke in for whatever reason, I’d rather keep that stuff safe. Sentimental stuff, family stuff. You know.”

  “Joy’s stuff.”

  A warm buzz of relief. “Yes.” Catherine couldn’t stop from smiling. It was a lie, but a good one. And best of all, she didn’t have to think of it. “A lot of Joy’s stuff.”

  Lara nodded. “That makes sense.”

  It does make sense, Catherine thought.

  Lara stood from the counter. “I’m probably going to leave soon to see some friends. If I don’t see you before you go to bed… goodnight.”

  “Have fun.” She considered asking her daughter for a hug goodbye before she went, an impulsive want, but thought better of it. That wasn’t Lara’s thing. “I’ll leave a light on for you.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Catherine was in the middle of vacuuming the stairs the following day when she thought she heard something and shut the vacuum off. It took a second to register. When she realized it was her phone she stood very quickly, felt her knees pop. She continued upstairs and into her room and snatched her phone up from her bed. The Caller ID showed that it was Calvin. Lara’s father. She hesitated. If she waited any longer to answer, it would go to voicemail. Screw it, she thought.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Catherine.”

  “Hey.”

  “Hope it’s okay if I just cut to the chase. Have you heard from Lara lately? Talked at all?”

  She took her time thinking.

  “Some, not much. What’s wrong?”

  Calvin sighed heavily into the phone, an oddly satisfying noise to Catherine. Gruff. She could almost smell his aftershave in the sound of his voice.

  “She came here this morning knocking on my door. She needed money. I wondered maybe if you knew something I didn’t.”

  Catherine sat on the edge of her bed.

  “No, I don’t. I mean… I don’t know why she would need money.”

  She thought about the missing money from her purse.

  “Do you know anything else? Is she having any kind of trouble at all?”

  Part of her wanted to keep quiet. Lara shared her problems with her in confidence. It was possible she didn’t want her father to know about such things. After all, children often had different relationship dynamics between each of their parents…

  “Well… I know her and her boyfriend aren’t together anymore.”

  “What was his name again?”

  Catherine tried to remember but for some reason she struggled.

  “Was it Michael?”

  “No, that was her last… Oh! Rob. That’s his name. It was Rob.”

  “Ah.”

  “Did you ever meet him?” she asked, shamefully curious to find out how much more Lara’s father might know than she did. Before Calvin could answer her first question Catherine asked, “How long did they date, do you know?”

  “Oh. I have no idea. I never met him. But when she showed up this morning, there was a man sitting in the passenger seat of her car in the street.”

  Catherine’s heart leapt.

  “It was only a few days ago she told me they broke up. He cheated on her with her best friend, poor thing. It couldn’t have been him…”

  “I’m afraid she’s in some kind of trouble. I don’t know why she needs money. I asked her what for and she wouldn’t say. Well, she told me she was behind on bills. I asked her if everything was okay at work and she said yes. I don’t know.”

  Catherine’s thoughts were a growing storm. More and more unstable the longer she lingered on them.

  “I don’t know, either…” Her suspicions could have filled the sails of a thousand ships, maybe even capsized them. “Hey Calvin, I need to go. Something I need to do. I’ll try talking to her, though, and if I find out anything I’ll call you back. Is that okay?”

  “Of course. Please do. I just hope it’s not anything—”

  “All right, thank you again for letting me know. I have to go.”

  She hung up. Immediately she began searching through her phone’s contacts for Lara’s work. She hoped she had it, because for the life of her she couldn’t remember the name of the place.

  Jesus, she thought, don’t I know anything about my own daughter?

  It was there. Aptly titled ‘Lara’s Work’. She called. She half-expected the line to be out of use, abandoned, dead.

  “Oak and Buckle, this is Jasmine, how can I help you?”

  Catherine paused. It sounded vaguely familiar but she wasn’t quite sure…

  “You sell clothes, right?”

  “Um, we do… What can I do for you today?”

  “Can I speak to Lara?”

  “Lara?”

  “Lara Blake. She works there.” There was a substantial pause on the other end. Catherine thought maybe they were finding her, handing the phone over.

  “Hmmm…”

  “Is there a manager I can speak to by chance?”

  “Hold on just a moment please.”

  “Thank you.”

  Now there was another silence, a different kind that said they were handing the phone over to someone else. Catherine listened as hands exchanged the phone between them, and voices mumbled above.

  “This is Rebecca, how can I help you?”

  “Hello. I was just wondering if I could speak to Lara? She’s supposed to be working today.”

  Suddenly the woman on the other end, the manager, adopted a tone starkly different than the one with which she used to greet her—a tone of both pleasure and displeasure, a resentment of the subject but a satisfaction in the delivery of what information she had on it.

  “Yeah, Lara hasn’t worked here in over a month.”

  “Wait—what? Are you sure? This is her mother. Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I’m not allowed to discuss things like that with anyone, I’m sorry.”

  “But you do know who I’m talking about? Lara?”

  “I do. She no longer works here. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “No… that’s all. Thank you.”

  Catherine set her phone down and bore a hole into the floor between her feet, thinking about how to best compose herself for when Lara came home that evening. Questions needed to be asked. Answers needed to be given. There would be nothing chummy about it, she knew. All she could do now was hope she was wrong. There was a good explanation for everything. Nothing dark or deceitful. It was Lara, after all. Her own daughter. How could she be so worried? How could she have the suspicions she did?

  Perhaps she only misunderstood.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The door opened and Catherine jerked upright. She was sitting in the front room under the window. Waiting. The light at her back was blue and dim, the sun nearly down. The door shut and shoes were kicked off onto the fl
oor.

  “Lara?”

  After a pause: “Yes?”

  Her head throbbed. She sat up, repositioned herself on the sofa.

  “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Lara came in. She looked, for the most part, emotionless. Tired eyes, mouth drawn, shoulders slack.

  “Sit down with me.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  In wanting to choose her words carefully, there was a pause between them, and Lara cast her expectant stare down at the ground, unable to meet eyes.

  “How was work?” Catherine asked. She feared a question simple as that might give the situation away, that Lara might be able to tell she was found out and would then lie.

  “It was fine. The usual.”

  “What’s the store you work at again? Clothes, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s called Oak and Buckle.”

  Catherine let out a sigh—a wobbly thing, a fraying thread. Her fingers picked at a spot on the edge of the sofa cushion, unnoticed. She opened her mouth to speak, the words clogged up. She ran her hands over her legs, once, twice, three times.

  Slowly Lara asked, “Is… something wrong?”

  “I called your work today.” Catherine straightened herself, head up, eyes down. “I know you were fired.”

  She knew no such thing, only that Lara wasn’t there anymore. But that she still claimed to work there told her enough.

  “What? Why were you calling—”

  “Why did you ask your dad for money?”

  Lara’s head recoiled as though from a blow. She shook her head irritably, eyes pinched.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your dad and I talked this morning. He was worried about you and wanted to know if I knew anything he didn’t. Apparently not. Why do you need money? What happened to your job?”

  “I can’t believe this…” Lara put her hands over her face, over her eyes. She pushed her fingers through her hair. “I don’t—”

  “Sit down and talk to me.” Catherine patted the spot next to her on the sofa. She hoped this would be the moment Lara opened up to her, that this wouldn’t have to be the interrogation it was shaping up to be.

  “I don’t want to talk about this right now.” She turned away.

  “Lara!”

  “I really don’t want to talk about this right now!”