Her Daddy's Eyes

by Gary Parker

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” Allie said.

  He took off his cap, looked into it for a moment, then placed it back on. “It’s okay,” he said.

  “I’m honestly curious about your faith; I’m interested right now. Not sure why, but I am.”

  Chase lightly touched her elbow, and a shot of energy ran through Allie’s arm where he touched her.

  “I’m a believer,” he explained. “Go to church, read the Bible, the whole bit. But I’m not one of those people you see on television, somebody who wears their faith like a neon sign. I’ll talk to people about it once I know them, but you... well, I expect I won’t ever know you, so...”

  “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Allie said, trying to understand.

  He took his hand away and smiled, and the tension broke. “Go to dinner with me and maybe I’ll tell you more,” he offered.

  “You’d use your faith as a bargaining chip?”

  “When you get to my age, you use whatever you have.” Allie laughed, then turned serious again. “I’m engaged, remember?”

  “Yeah, but you can’t blame a guy for trying, can you?”

  She focused again on the purpose of her trip. “I need to get going,” she said. “Anywhere else we need to search here?”

  He bit his lip and thought a second. Then his eyes lit up. “The computer,” he suggested. “Digital images, maybe email too.”

  Allie arched an eyebrow. “Good thought.”

  They quickly made their way to the study again, and Chase took a seat in the chair at the desk and turned on the computer. Allie stood over his shoulder as he did a quick search, brought up a “My Pictures” file, and clicked on it. To her dismay, he found no pictures in the file.

  “Okay,” he said, manipulating the computer mouse. “Let’s try email.”

  “Won’t you need a password?”

  “We’ll see.”

  “And isn’t this private?”

  He turned and looked at her like she’d burped without covering her mouth. “You’re the one who got me into this. No time to get a conscience now.”

  She threw up her hands, palms out. Chase shook his head, faced the computer again, and clicked the email icon, and the program loaded without asking for a password.

  “Let’s check Mom’s email first,” he suggested. “Go back to last March, when Dad went to Vietnam with Uncle Jack. See if Dad contacted her during that time, from a hotel or maybe an airport.”

  “If she hasn’t deleted them.”

  “She never throws anything away, probably doesn’t delete much either.”

  Chase scrolled through his mom’s emails until he reached the ones she received in March. “There we are,” he said, clicking on an email. “Let’s see what we’ve got.” The email appeared. “It’s from Dad,” Chase said. Allie held her breath as she read the message.

  Beth, we’re here. The computer hookup at the hotel seems to be working. I hope this reaches you. It was a long trip, hope it’s worth it before it’s over. Jack is tired, not looking well, but he won’t tell me what’s wrong. I’ll tell you more later. Love, Walt.

  Chase looked at Allie, and she pointed him back to the email. He searched through several more until he found another one from his dad.

  Beth, we’re almost to Dinh Tuong, close to where the worst of it happened. We should get there tomorrow, if the transportation we’ve arranged shows up. You never can tell over here, things don’t always go like clockwork. I’m just glad this hotel had computer lines. I wonder if Jack is going to get through this, he seems sicker every day. Love, Walt.

  Allie pulled up a chair from the corner and waited while Chase found a third email. This one was longer. Allie leaned forward as she read it.

  We just got back from Dinh Tuong. I’m worn out. Things have changed some but not as much as I imagined they would have. Jack didn’t say much the whole time, just walked around, like stepping on hallowed ground. I wish he could get past what happened here. Funny how Vietnam affected the two of us so differently. I feel guilt too, you know that, but I managed to overcome most of it—at least most of the time. Jack, though, I don’t know. He’s carried his guilt like a truck on his back, and it’s gotten heavier every year. Anyway, it’s done. We visited the ghosts; I pray this trip will give him the strength to beat them, pray it’s not too late for him. Talk to you again soon, maybe I can call when I get back to the airport. Love, Walt.

  Allie wanted to cry but held it back. Chase clicked through the email folder and came to one more from Vietnam.

  Beth, we’re headed out later today. But we got a shock this morning. A man from the village where we were yesterday showed up at the hotel, said he had heard some Americans had come there and he wanted to talk to us. You won’t believe what he said. The girl, the one I’ve told you about? The one he felt responsible for? The man said the girl and her mother made it out. He said they came to America. Can you believe it? Jack almost wouldn’t let the man go. He kept him here for over an hour, pumping him for information. I don’t know what Jack will do when we get home. I just want him to be healthy enough to find out what he can before it’s too late. I’ll tell you more when I get home. What a trip! Love, Walt.

  Chase leaned back and locked his hands behind his head. Allie stared into her lap, her hands clenched.

  “What does it all mean?” she asked softly.

  “I’m as clueless as a two-year-old at a Mensa convention.”

  “It’s the same question,” she said. “What happened in Vietnam?”

  “What caused all the guilt my dad talks about?”

  “And who’s the girl he mentioned, the one who came to America with her mother?”

  “And what do the two of them have to do with our dads?”

  Allie considered a horrible thought but then pushed it away. “Mysteries,” she said. “One after another.”

  “You need to talk to my dad,” he said.

  “Yes I do, and to my mother.”

  “You think that’s wise?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “You want copies of these?” he indicated the emails, and she nodded. He quickly pulled them up, printed them out, and handed them to her.

  “I feel a little guilty about this,” she said.

  “I’ll repent for the both of us on Sunday.”

  She laughed, and he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and tried to reach his sister again but with no luck. “Sorry,” he said, putting up the phone. “I’m sure I can reach her later if you want to wait, but...”

  Allie looked at her watch and stood quickly. “I have to go,” she said. “I’m already late.”

  He stood too, his hands in his pockets. “I’ll talk to Julie soon as I can,” he offered. “Call you with the number so you can reach my folks.”

  “It’ll probably be too late to call them today,” she said. “Then you can try first thing in the morning.”

  “They’ll think I’m a lunatic.”

  “I’ll call them first and assure them that you are.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  He smiled and headed through the house and back to the truck, Allie right behind him, the emails clutched tightly. They stayed quiet for the ride back to the farm, both of them lost in their own thoughts. When they reached the farm, both climbed out, and Allie hurried to her car. Chase leaned to the window as she started the engine, and she powered down the window.

  “Will you be with your fiancé tonight?” he asked. “Yes.”

  “Hope I don’t make him jealous when I call you.”

  “He’s very mature; I’m sure you won’t.”

  He smiled for a moment, then became serious again. “I’ll say a prayer for you, Allie Wilson, for good results for your quest.”

  “I’m sure it can’t hurt.”

  He tipped his cap, and Allie rolled up the window and drove away, her last view of Chase that of a man posed in the yard, his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his jeans. Although she l
oved Trey, something about Chase Mason made Allie look forward to his call, even if its purpose had nothing to do with anything romantic.

  SECTION 4

  My soul, her wings doth spread and heaven-ward flies, The Almighty’s mysteries to read in the large volume of the skies.

  William Habington

  6

  After leaving a message on Trey’s cell phone, Allie made her way straight to her mom’s house. Before she did anything else, she needed to know one thing for certain. Did her dad come to see them after his trip to Vietnam? If so, why? Equally as important, why hadn’t her mom told her about it?

  All kinds of possibilities entered Allie’s head as she drove up to Gladys’s house, and all of them frustrated her, made her angry even.

  First, Chase had it all wrong, and her dad never visited her mom.

  Second, her dad came but didn’t let her mom know it. Third, he visited Gladys, but she didn’t tell Allie because she wanted to protect her.

  Fourth, her dad showed up, but he told Gladys not to tell her.

  Allie warned herself to stay calm and give her mom a chance to explain. She found Gladys in the kitchen, a bunch of cut flowers on the countertop by the sink, a couple of clear vases nearby. Gladys wore a straw hat and held her hands under the water, washing them. Allie’s temper softened as she saw the flowers—her mom loved beautiful things; how could she stay mad for long at a woman like that?

  Gladys smiled as Allie stepped to her and kissed her on the cheek. “Glad you’re back,” Gladys said. “You find out anything interesting?”

  Allie studied her mom, searching for a hint of deceit or evasion but saw none. “I met Chase Mason.”

  “I remember him as a handsome boy.”

  “Now he’s a handsome man.”

  “You ought not say such things.”

  “I’m getting married, Mom, not going blind.”

  Gladys laughed and poured water into a vase, then put flowers in.

  “Chase tell you anything about your dad?”

  Although not wanting to cause any argument, Allie couldn’t avoid asking the question that had burned in her since talking to Chase. “When did you last see Dad?” she blurted.

  Gladys’s hands stilled for an instant but then picked up another bunch of flowers. “Why do you ask?”

  “Because Chase told me he saw Dad just about a year ago. He heard him and Mr. Mason talking. Dad told Walt he planned to come here, that he needed to get some things settled, like he had something big about to happen and wanted some loose ends tied up.”

  Gladys faced her now, her jaw set. “I don’t see how bringing this up helps anybody,” she stated. “Let bygones be bygones, that’s my motto; it’s the only way I’ve made it all these years. I’ve told you that more than once.”

  Allie stepped closer. “I need to know, Mom. Did Dad come through here or not?”

  Gladys dropped her eyes, her head nodding. “About ten months ago.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Gladys raised her head, and a fierce determination played on her face. “The same reason I never told you about any of the times he showed up. What good would it do? He never stayed more than a couple of days. The man drifted in and out faster than fog on a sunny day.”

  “But he’s my father!”

  “And I’m your mother, and a mother is supposed to protect her young. I’ve done that your whole life, and in my judgment it made no sense for you to see him; you’ll have to trust me on that.”

  Allie ground her teeth to keep from crying. She felt trapped between her appreciation for all Gladys had done for her over the years and her anger at the decision she’d made without ever talking to her.

  “But I’m grown-up now,” she said. “I’m old enough to have made that decision for myself.”

  Gladys turned back to her flowers. “Jack always left it to me what to do about seeing you, and I didn’t see the good in it. Until the last visit, he always showed up drinking, worse every time—more gaunt and haunted, less and less of his old self visible as the years passed.”

  “And this last time?”

  Gladys filled a vase with water. “This last time he was sober.”

  “Then why didn’t you let me see him?”

  Gladys stopped, turned to Allie, and took her hands. “I don’t claim to be a perfect mom,” she said, “and maybe I made a mistake this last time, I don’t know. But I did what I thought best for you. Please believe that.”

  Allie hugged her mom and let her tears flow. “I do believe that.” She sobbed gently. “But I... I don’t know... I have to see him before I’m married. Something in me is forcing me to search for him; I can’t seem to get past that.”

  Gladys patted her back and let her cry it out. When she’d finished, Allie eased back and wiped her eyes.

  “Did Dad give any indication where he was going from here?” she asked. “Where we might find him if we wanted?”

  Gladys shook her head.

  “You’re telling me the truth?”

  “Yes, sweetheart.”

  Allie wiped her eyes again. “It’s a hard time, Mom.”

  “I know.”

  Allie helped Gladys finish the last of the flowers. “I need to ask you one more thing,” she said as they placed them on the kitchen table.

  Gladys pointed her to a seat, pulled out two glasses, filled them with orange juice from the refrigerator, handed one to Allie, and sat down beside her.

  Allie sipped from the juice, then said, “Chase said Dad went to Vietnam after he came here. Any idea why he did that?”

  Gladys shook her head.

  “Did Dad ever say anything to you about a girl in Vietnam?”

  “What kind of girl?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Gladys set her glass down. “What’s this about, Allie? You trying to tell me your dad had a woman while he was in Vietnam?”

  Allie hung her head, her mom’s words expressing what she’d feared since she first read Walt Mason’s email. She pulled the printed emails from her pocket and handed them to Gladys, who took them, slipped a pair of reading glasses from her shirt pocket, and set them on her nose.

  Allie waited until Gladys had finished the emails, then asked, “So what do you think?”

  Gladys read the emails once more, then took off her glasses and chewed on one of the stems. “I knew something happened in Vietnam, but Jack never told me what,” she said soberly. “I encouraged him to talk about it, suggested it might help him if he poured it all out, but he never did. I think he wanted to protect me; that’s the feeling I always got when anything came up.”

  Allie laid a hand over her mom’s. “I don’t think this is about another woman,” she said. “That doesn’t feel right somehow, no matter how it looks.”

  “A lot of soldiers took Vietnamese girls,” Gladys said. “Your dad was no saint; he’d be the first to tell you that. If he had a woman in Vietnam, that would certainly explain all the guilt he felt.”

  Allie stared out the window. Was this the answer? The reason her dad left her and her mom? He fell in love with a Vietnamese woman? Brought back that guilt when he returned home? Started drinking to cover the guilt?

  She took the emails from her mom and read through them once again, and a new, even more horrifying thought hit her. Had her dad had a child by a Vietnamese woman? The email spoke of a girl and her mother. Was the girl the woman with whom her dad fell in love? Or was the girl his daughter and the woman her mother? And what did the email mean when it said they’d come to America? Had they come years ago or just recently? Did Allie have a half sister living somewhere in the United States?

  Allie dropped the emails on the table and hoped her mom’s mind didn’t run the same channels as hers. To believe that your husband had taken up with a woman during a war might hurt, but to believe he’d fathered a child would cut even deeper; it might destroy.

  “I believe it’s something else,” Allie said, facing Gladys again. “I just k
now it is.”

  Gladys waved her off. “Let it go,” she said. “It’s water under the bridge either way.”

  Allie took a drink of juice, her heart churning. She tried to focus on matters at hand instead of speculating so much. “Chase is going to call me tonight,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “He’s calling his sister for a number so I can reach his dad.”

  “And you want to do that because...?”

  “The same reason I went to Knoxville.”

  “You’re still trying to find Jack?”

  “All this has made the search even more urgent.” Gladys started laughing, but Allie knew no mirth lay in it. “You beat all, child,” Gladys said.

  “I can’t just give it up,” Allie insisted.

  “Sure you can; I did a long time ago.”

  “But why, Mom? Dad visited us less than a year ago. You said he wasn’t drinking. I think he’s trying to send me a message; maybe he wants me to know it’s time for us to see each other again.”

  “I just don’t think that’s it,” Gladys said.

  “But how can you be so sure?”

  “Just a feeling.”

  “Well, I have a feeling too.”

  “I believe my feeling trumps yours.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my feeling tells me that the last time I saw Jack was the last time I ever would.”

  Although Allie knew she needed to go assist Trey at the house, she found it impossible to do. After collecting every picture of her and her dad that her mom possessed, Allie took them to her apartment and spent the rest of the afternoon trying to remember Jack Wilson. Trying to remember the day he took her to the fair, as one picture showed. Trying to remember the black puppy with the white circle around his left eye that a third image conveyed. Trying to remember her fourth birthday party, as another depicted—the last one with him home.