A Grave Calling

by Wendy Roberts

  Heavy ash-colored clouds spat cold rain on my head as I ran to the bus stop just in time to catch the bus. For an hour and a half the bus bounced and jostled down the road and out of Seattle, and I frowned out the window while I thought. Many of those thoughts were fueled by anger filled with a powerful rage at this woman...my mother...who’d abandoned me. She left me behind to be abused. As much as I tried over the years to tell myself that perhaps she didn’t know she was dropping me into hell, I knew now that wasn’t true. People didn’t change who they were and nothing could convince me that my grandmother had been a kind and gentle mommy when my own mother was growing up.

  The only thing that had stopped me from hating my mother and becoming embittered over the years was possible circumstance. I covered and blanketed layers of justifications like a pretty parfait over the abandonment to excuse her for her actions. Perhaps she was extremely ill with cancer and so, riddled with the disease, she didn’t know what else to do. Then again, maybe it really was to be a temporary drop-off for just a few days, like I was told, but she’d come to a catastrophic ending herself. Both of these scenarios had been favorites of mine because in both she’d wound up dead. Perfectly acceptable reasons for not rescuing me.

  As the bus lurched down the highway closer to Marysville, all my jangled nerves gave way to an edge of excitement. I felt driven by an inexplicable need to see my mother’s face and hear her voice even though I knew there would never be a rationalization or apology big enough.

  When I climbed off the bus in Marysville, a light rain was falling but the sun was peeking through the thin clouds. I slipped the hood of my sweatshirt up over my head and walked up Sixth Street. There was a coffee shop at the corner and I desperately wanted to just grab a coffee and sit while I memorized the speech I was going to give her or, better yet, I’d love to stop at the store and buy a bottle of wino courage to help me be strong. Instead, I just kept walking.

  The house was a small bungalow with faded green-painted wood siding. A rusted tricycle lay on its side in the middle of the sidewalk, and my head swam. I’d never considered the possibility of half-siblings. What if she’d had a whole new family and that’s why she never came back? The idea felt like a slow burn under my skin as I walked up the steps and knocked.

  Voices inside, male and female, argued about getting the door and I held my breath and strained to listen. Was the female voice my mom? While I cocked my head and leaned in to hear, the door was yanked open. I released the breath I was holding. The woman in front of me was the right age but Asian.

  “Hi,” I blurted. “I’m looking for Molly Arsenault.”

  “Not here.”

  The woman went to slam the door and I put my hands up to stop it.

  “Do you have an address where she could be?”

  “No.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you a bill collector?”

  I shook my head. “I’m her daughter.”

  Her gaze scraped over me first with doubt and then with curiosity.

  “Ted!” she screamed over her shoulder. “Some girl’s here saying she’s Molly’s kid.”

  A scrawny bald man with a long braided goatee came from the back of the house. He was about fifty and wore jeans and a stained T-shirt.

  “Molly’s kid?” He spoke with a cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth. “What’s your name?”

  “Delma Arsenault.” The name felt foreign on my lips.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.” He stepped aside. “Come in out of the rain.” He looked at the woman who’d answered the door and snarled, “Don’t just stand there gawking, get us both a beer.”

  The Asian woman skedaddled toward what I assumed was the kitchen and the man waved me inside.

  “Come in. Sit.”

  Even though the carpet looked filthier than the bottom of my shoes could possibly be, I slipped off my runners and followed him inside. He sank into a faded recliner and I took the sofa next to him, choosing a spot between a pile of laundry and a stain that looked suspiciously like cat vomit. The woman brought out two cans of Pabst and shoved aside an overflowing ashtray to put them on the coffee table.

  She stood there grinning at me until the man she’d called Ted glared at her pointedly and then she hustled off again. Once she was gone he cracked open a beer and handed it to me.

  “Oh. Um. No, thanks.”

  He shrugged and took a long swig from the can before he said, “Molly ain’t here. She left maybe two years ago.”

  “Oh.” My heart fell. I licked my lips, tempted by the other can of beer on the table. One fast gulp would take away the edge. I forced my gaze from the beer to his face. “Do you know where she went?”

  “No. Strangest thing though. She took the car but didn’t pack a damn thing. I figured she went for smokes or beer but she never came back. They found her car on the side of the road up by Sedro-Woolley.”

  I straightened and frowned. “You filed a missing person’s report?”

  “Tried.” He took a drag from his smoke, then guzzled his beer and wiped a few stray drops from his beard. “But cops said the car was working fine and it looked like she walked away of her own accord. No sign of anything bad and she’d run off before so...” He shrugged. “They just figured she’d gotten the hell out of Dodge, you know? We didn’t have the best history.” He took another sip. “Cops were called on occasion so...yeah, they figure she just left and then I got to thinking that they’re probably right.” He tilted his head and shook a nicotine-stained finger at me. “You look like her, you know. Same eyes and mouth. Same kind of line between your eyebrows like you think too much.”

  “You knew about me.” I stated it as fact.

  “Oh sure, but never thought I’d ever see you.” He flicked an ash of his cigarette in the ashtray on the table and tossed his now empty beer onto the table beside it. Then he sat back, linked his hands behind his head and grinned. “Molly told me she had a kid who got adopted out.”

  “Adopted out?” I sat forward and, when I did, almost put my hand on the vomit stain.

  “Yeah, she said she dropped you at her parents’ place because she was headed into rehab.”

  He fondled his braided beard a bit, then snagged the second beer off the table and lit another smoke. “She said she had an issue with coke back then but that was long before I met her. I wouldn’t have put up with that kind of shit.”

  Right, because your sense of integrity and high moral fiber wouldn’t have allowed it.

  He puffed hard on his cigarette and took long pulls on the next beer and I just sat there trying to absorb what I’d learned so far. When he finished the beer, he dropped what was left of his cigarette butt into it. It made a sputtering sound as he put the can down.

  “Anyway,” he started up again. “She said the rehab was a couple months and when she got back, her ma said she’d dropped you off at Child Protective Services and that you’d been adopted.”

  “I wasn’t adopted.” My throat was so dry that my voice cracked as I spoke.

  “Yeah, well, when I met her that woulda been maybe ten years after that happened. She didn’t talk about it much in the six years we were together.” He picked at his teeth with his fingernail. “She wasn’t doing coke anymore when we met but she could put away a bottle of vodka without any trouble at all.” The thought made him smile in memory. “Once, though, she got sober for a few weeks and that got her straight enough to get thinking about it. We started talking about you and she did some digging and realized her parents could’ve turned you over to Child Protective Services but nobody woulda been able to adopt you without her permission.” He leveled his bleary eyes on me for a second. “We shoulda come looking for you and we talked about it but figured you would’ve been old enough to be on your own and long gone so we just let sleeping dogs lay.” He shrugged. “She didn’t want to talk to her fol
ks.”

  “I appreciate your time.” I got up from the sofa and my fingernails bit half-moons into the palms of my hands as I struggled to keep my voice even. As I slipped my feet back in my shoes I asked, “By the way, the name Arsenault. Any idea how I ended up with that?”

  “Sure.” He nodded. “Molly was married to some guy when she had you.” He quickly added, “Don’t know his first name so, sorry, I’m no help there.”

  My heart thrummed painfully in my chest. “Really? Any idea where I might find him?”

  “Sorry, dahling.” He blanched and stroked his beard. “Your daddy died in the Gulf War just after you was born.” He shook his head slowly and mumbled, “God bless America,” while oddly looking at his feet. Then he perked up and added, “Molly said the marriage wouldn’ta taken anyway but it was worth it just to have a different name than her parents.”

  “I can relate to that.”

  My hand was on the door when I realized I did not want to go back to Garrett’s apartment and be on my own with quicksand thoughts and this ache in my chest.

  “Do you have a phone I could use?”

  “Sure.”

  He took a cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to me.

  “Excuse me while I go use the facilities.” He bowed comically and left the room.

  I thanked him for his time and then dialed the number for the fill-up station and was relieved when Jonas answered the call.

  “Hey, any chance you’re available to pick me up in Marysville after your shift?” I asked, trying to keep emotion from my voice and failing miserably.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I whispered on a choked sob. “So, can you?”

  “Geez, I would if I could but my car died this morning and I had to tow it to the shop.” He sounded sincerely upset. “If you want I can see if my brother will loan me his, but he works until seven.”

  I had an idea.

  “How about I call Gramps and get him to pick you up in my Jeep when you’re off? You could drop him back off at his place and then drive down here and get me. Okay?” I added, “I’d ask him to come get me, but it’s a bit of a drive for him. I don’t like him on the highway much.”

  And I didn’t want Gramps to know I’d been searching for my mother. I wasn’t ready for that conversation.

  “Sure. I’m off at four,” Jonas said.

  I gave him a meeting spot in town.

  “As soon as I can get there, I will,” he promised.

  I ended the call and then dialed Gramps, letting him know what I arranged, adding a little white lie about wanting to have my own wheels and Jonas offering to deliver the Jeep to me. Gramps said it was no trouble at all to bring the Jeep to Jonas and get a lift back.

  “Wookie and I are done our rabbit hunting for the day anyway,” he added.

  After I disconnected the call, I looked up to see Ted’s girlfriend standing there.

  She looked over her shoulder nervously, then whispered to me, “I heard a rumor that Molly got into the crack and OD’d. Ted couldn’t handle that so I kept it to myself. Thought you deserved to know.”

  I started to thank her but then Ted reappeared, his hand out for his phone. I handed it to him and he hugged me awkwardly.

  “Molly meant something to me.” He exhaled hot beer breath onto my neck. “If’n we’d found you, we could’ve been a family and all.”

  “Thanks for letting me in and clearing up stuff about my mother,” I told him, untangling myself from his hug.

  “No problem.” He tugged on his beard. “Don’t suppose you have a couple bucks you could loan your almost stepdad, now, could you? Things are a little tight.”

  I opened my purse, handed him a twenty and walked out the door.

  I’d seen a Jack in the Box fast-food outlet close by when I got off the bus and I told Jonas that’s where he’d find me.

  The fast-food restaurant was five minutes away and it would be at least a couple hours before Jonas would show up. I sat down on a bus stop bench and cried hard for a few minutes.

  “You’re being stupid,” I admonished, scrubbing my hands across my damp eyes. “You’ve been without a mother your entire life. This makes no difference. Bubkes. Snap out of it.”

  After a few deep cleansing breaths I forced myself to my feet and walked the rest of the way to the Jack in the Box. I ordered a burger and fries and then sat there not eating while sickly thoughts moved through my head. At first I was furious for coming but then I reasoned that it brought a level of closure I wouldn’t have been able to get otherwise. Closure. I chuckled softly to myself. How I hated that word.

  I dipped a cold fry into a coagulated blob of ketchup and stuffed it in my mouth. At least with Jonas bringing my Jeep I wouldn’t feel as much a prisoner. I’d drive him back to his place and then call Garrett and let him know I was okay but needed to go. Part of me wanted to run back to his apartment, crawl under the covers in his bed and just wait for his body to be next to mine, but now I needed to focus on Katie and it didn’t feel like that was possible from his apartment.

  Jonas arrived and bustled into the restaurant out of breath like he’d been running.

  “I got here as fast as I could. You sounded upset.” He slid into the booth and pointed to my uneaten burger.

  “Help yourself. I’m not hungry,” I told him. “It’s just been a sucky few days, you know?” I blinked back tears.

  “Horrible about Katie.” He nodded as he unwrapped the burger and took a bite. “Do they think it’s the same guy who took her? Same guy as the others? I mean, she’s older than those girls so maybe it’s not, right?”

  “She looks young, though,” I said. “She’s always getting carded.”

  “True.” He took another bite out of the burger and smiled. “I was really surprised that you called me of all people. And kind of honored.”

  With a half-smile I said, “Don’t be too pumped about it. I’m not exactly Miss Popular these days, except with the local media.”

  He’d devoured the burger and was licking the tips of his fingers.

  “Do you want me to get you something else? It’s the least I could do after you drove all this way to help me out.”

  “Nah, that was perfect.” He crumpled up the wrapper.

  “Well, that money I loaned you before? The fifty bucks? Consider it more than repaid,” I said.

  “Nah, I’ll still pay you back for that eventually. I just like to think we’re friends and that you’d come and pick me up an hour away if I called you up crying.”

  “I don’t think I was crying.”

  “No, but you sounded like you were about to cry. You wanna talk about it? I got small shoulders but big ears.”

  No, I really did not want to talk about it. The spot inside my heart was too tender.

  “I’m just really worried about Katie.” Which was true.

  He nodded seriously. “Okay, so where am I taking you?”

  “Can we just drive back to your place and I’ll drop you off? I’m not sure if I’m going to take a chance of bringing all the news reporter Armageddon onto Gramps so I don’t want to go home or his place. Just need a place to clear my head for a few hours while I think of what to do.”

  “No problemo.”

  We got up from the booth and I followed him outside. He held up the keys but I shook my head.

  “Do you mind driving? I’m beat.”

  He climbed behind the wheel and started the Jeep.

  “For what it’s worth, your grandfather seems to be doing great. Every time I see him he’s talking about fishing. He said that since I was doing you this favor, next time he sees me he’ll tell me one of his secret fishing spots.”

  “He must really like you then because he doesn’t tell anyone his favorite fishi
ng holes.”

  There was a bottle of cola in the cup holder that Jonas said was for me, and when we exited onto the highway the sun glinted off something shiny next to the drink. I lifted the bottle out and saw Katie’s favorite gold hoops exactly where she’d left them the night we went to the casino together. I scooped them out and squeezed them in my hands for a minute and offered a silent prayer that she would be found alive. Then I stuffed the earrings into the front pocket of my jeans for luck.

  “I like driving your Jeep,” Jonas said. “It handles really well. Maybe I should just trade in my piece of shit for one of these.”

  “You’ll want to get a newer one than this though. This thing has cost me a few bucks in repairs this year.”

  There were signs indicating road construction on the highway and traffic began to narrow to one lane. The sun broke out of the clouds and was baking us through the car windows. My air-conditioning was sketchy at the best of times and today it felt more like the sputter of a drunk’s hot breath.

  “I’m going to exit and go route nine,” Jonas said, rolling down his window a bit.

  “It’ll take longer.”

  “Yeah, but I’d rather keep moving than inch my way in traffic for the next twenty miles. Besides, the guy behind us has been riding my ass since Marysville.”

  He took the off-ramp and I grabbed the Coke out of the cup holder. It was still somewhat cold but didn’t fizz when I unscrewed the lid. My first thought was that it was flat but I was thirsty so I guzzled about half of it in one go. There was a bitter taste in my mouth and I made a face and put the drink back. A few minutes later I began to feel dizzy.

  “You okay?” Jonas asked giving me a sideways glance.

  “I’m... I’m...” My tongue was thick and my thoughts were jumbled.

  “You’re what?” He glanced in the rearview mirror and threw up his hands with exasperation. “I’m going to pull over and let this guy pass.”