by Gary Parker
“You all right?” she asked, forgetting her problems for a second.
Gladys shrugged, but Allie’s antennae went up anyway. Although her mom stayed healthy most of the time, she occasionally fell into bleak periods when she became discouraged, even depressed. She’d even ended up in the hospital a couple of times in the past fifteen years, her doctor prescribing more rest and a series of antidepressants for a few months after each trip.
“Even a rock crumbles a little every now and again,” the doctor had told Allie three years ago, the last time Gladys entered the hospital. “Your mom works hard. She needs to take better care of herself.”
“You’ve been going at it too hard,” Allie told Gladys. “You should take more time to rest.”
Gladys waved her off. “I’m good,” she said. “You know me, stout as a mule.”
Allie dipped a cookie in milk and handed it to her mom. “I know you are for everyone but yourself. You’d rather walk on broken glass than admit you need some time off.”
“It’s a good thing you’re getting married in a week,” Gladys said with a hint of a smile as she nibbled the cookie. “Otherwise, I’d need to spank you for your smart-aleck mouth.”
Allie smiled too but realized she needed to keep an eye on her mom over the next few days. An episode now would be disastrous for everybody.
Gladys placed the rest of the cookie on a napkin. “I’m going to miss you, that’s all it is.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Allie said. “Trey and I will live ten minutes away.”
Gladys patted her forearm. “I know,” she said, “but you’ll be married. That changes things.”
“Not between you and me.”
“I hope not.”
Allie’s phone buzzed on the counter behind her. “Must be Trey,” Gladys said.
“You want to go to dinner with us?”
The phone buzzed again, and Gladys shook her head and pointed Allie to her phone. Allie stood and grabbed it. To her surprise, it wasn’t Trey on the other end.
“Walt Mason here.”
Allie walked onto the deck, shutting the door behind her. “You’re home from Europe?” she asked.
“Got in about four hours ago.”
“I assume you’re not calling to tell me about your trip.”
“You assume right.”
Allie hesitated as Walt cleared his throat. “You need to come to Knoxville,” he said.
“I can’t do that,” she said quickly. “I’m a week from my wedding.”
“You want to find your father, don’t you?”
“Of course I do, but...” Allie turned and looked through the window at her mom, still at the table, a cookie in hand. “It’s complicated.”
“That it is.”
Allie walked to the deck’s edge and tried to get a grip on her emotions. “I don’t understand,” she told Walt. “Just a few days ago, you wouldn’t tell me a thing. Now all of a sudden you want me to drive to Knoxville?”
“Just come,” he insisted. “You won’t be sorry, I assure you.”
Allie thought of Trey and knew his anger would boil over if she disappeared again so close to the wedding. “If you have something to tell me, just say it,” she insisted. “I don’t have time for another trip!”
“I won’t tell you anything over the phone; it’s too... personal.”
“But why now?” she pressed. “What’s different today from Sunday?”
“I found a letter when I returned today,” Walt said. “From your dad.”
“A letter?”
“Yes.”
“What’s in the letter?”
“The reason I called you.”
Allie pressed again. “What’s in the letter?”
“Just come to Knoxville.”
“Why?” she shrieked.
“Because I don’t have to keep my word to your dad anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because I think he may be dead.”
SECTION 5
It is not the person with closed eyes who makes the discovery but the person with open eyes lucid enough to fit pieces together.
Michael Leiris
8
Allie left Harper Springs without telling Gladys exactly what Walt Mason had said, reporting to her only that she’d see her in the morning. From her mom’s house, she drove straight to Knoxville, calling Trey on the way to inform him that she wouldn’t be joining him for dinner. His icy tone told her all she needed to know about his feelings regarding her sudden trip, and he backed up the chill in his voice with an even colder one in his words.
“I could get suspicious here,” he said.
“Of what?”
“You and Chase Mason.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ve met the man once.”
“Your mom told me you said he was handsome.”
“You and Mom have talked about that, have you?”
“We talk, yes. You know that.”
Allie made a mental note to ask her mom to hold her tongue on a few things. “You know this isn’t about Chase Mason,” she told Trey, and she filled him in on what Walt Mason had told her.
“I asked you to leave this alone until after the wedding,” he reminded her.
“Obviously, I can’t do that.”
“Tell me why again.”
“Mr. Mason said my dad might be dead.”
“If so, there’s nothing you can do; even more reason to stop picking at this.”
“But what if he’s not?”
“But Mr. Mason thinks he is.”
“But he doesn’t know.”
“You’re really frustrating me with this. You know that, don’t you? And Mom is completely confused, can’t fathom for a moment why you’re not at the house every day taking care of things.”
Allie bit her lip to keep from spouting what she wanted to say. “I have to do this. You should explain that to her.”
An awkward silence passed between them. Allie wondered why it felt so hard to talk to him lately. Fear suddenly ran through her, fear that if she kept going, something might forever change between her and Trey. Yet she knew she couldn’t turn back.
“I’ll call you on the way back,” she said, her emotions blocking any other words.
“Yes, do that.”
“Trey?”
“Yes.”
“Do you ever say prayers?”
“What kind of question is that?”
Allie hesitated, not sure how to express her feelings. “I don’t know,” she said. “But I... I think something is happening here... to me... maybe my dad... perhaps to us. I need strength, more than I can find within myself. Prayers can’t hurt, can they?”
“Delusion,” he said. “That’s all prayers are—empty words to empty air.”
“Is that what you really believe?”
“It’s what any sane person really believes.”
For some reason Allie wanted to cry, but she didn’t allow herself the luxury. “I’ll call you later,” she said.
“No matter the hour.”
She pressed “end” and dropped the phone on the seat. Then, without quite knowing why, she rolled down her window, let the night air blow through her hair, and breathed a silent thought into the night sky. Show me, God. Whatever it is I’m supposed to see, show me.
The wind blew into her black eyes, and she drove on toward Knoxville, toward the man who knew more than she’d ever known about her father.
To Allie’s surprise, she found Chase waiting for her on the front steps of his folks’ house, his hands in his jeans pockets, his hair free from a baseball cap this time, his biceps bulging through a short-sleeved gold golf shirt. He jumped up as he saw her turn in the driveway and met her as she climbed out of the car.
“My dad called,” he explained. “Told me you were coming. I hope you don’t mind me showing up; thought it might help if I introduced you to Mom and Dad.”
“Thanks,” she said, secretly glad to see him again. “T
his is a little awkward.”
“They’re looking forward to meeting you,” he said. “You didn’t tell them anything about your wild notion about us, did you?” Allie asked.
“No way! I keep my dreams to myself.”
She nodded, and he led her through the front door. Walt and Beth Mason met them in the den, Beth with a tray in hand, tea and water on it. Allie took a glass of water as Chase introduced everyone, and Walt led them all to a seat.
“I’m sorry to bother you the night you get back from your trip,” Allie started.
“I called you,” Walt said. “Not your place to apologize.” Allie sipped her water while Beth disappeared into the kitchen with the tray.
Walt cleared his throat. Chase sat in a rocking chair, his hands clutching a tea glass in his lap.
“Might as well get to it,” Walt said, pulling a letter from his pocket and handing it to Allie. “Here’s the letter from your dad.”
Allie set her glass on the floor and took the letter with trembling hands.
“No return address,” Walt said. “And the postmark shows it was mailed almost three weeks ago from Asheville, North Carolina.”
Allie opened the envelope and studied the handwriting on the one-page note. Scraggly, weak, obviously the writing of a tired, sick man. The words did nothing to dispel the impression of the writing.
Walt,
Hope you’re well. Not too sure of that myself. I’m told by the doctors I’ve got some heart problems, some kind of strange condition with a funny name. I figure I might need a hospital. Probably never leave it once I get there. I’m sending this so you’ll get word to Gladys for me. Tell her I love her and Allie. Tell her I asked for their forgiveness.
Here’s a key to a safety deposit box—Main Street Bank in Asheville. Not much in there. A few pictures, my dog tags, odds and ends, a couple of thousand dollars. Give it to Gladys for me.
I guess that’s it for now. If I get better, I’ll come see you this summer. If not...
Semper Fi,
Jack
Allie looked up, tears streaming, the key from the letter in her hand. Chase eased his rocking chair closer.
“He’s dead,” Allie sobbed.
“Not necessarily,” Chase said. “The letter isn’t clear on that.”
“But it’s probable, right? It’s been three weeks since this was sent.”
“We’ll need to see; maybe he got better in those three weeks.”
Allie shook her head. “I can’t believe it,” she cried. “It doesn’t make sense. I go through this whole thing... this nutty search... for nothing? For him to turn up dead?”
Chase touched her hand, then pulled away. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“We don’t know if it’s for nothing or not,” Walt insisted. “Maybe he’s still alive and this letter is a clue to finding him.”
“Or maybe not.”
Chase leaned closer. “Even if he’s... dead... that doesn’t mean all this was for nothing. Maybe there’s more here than meets the eye, some purpose in this we can’t see.”
“If he’s not alive, I don’t see how there’s any purpose in it,” Allie argued.
Chase held his hands out, palms up in resignation. Allie wiped her eyes, her hopes dashed. “This is the end of it.” She sighed. “Nothing else to do.”
“Not necessarily,” Chase said. “Dad and I have talked. He’s going to contact the folks at the VA; if Jack went to a government hospital, somebody will know something.”
“I already tried that,” Allie said. “They won’t tell you a thing.”
Walt coughed. “I’m a veteran,” he said. “Stayed in the Marines eight more years after Vietnam; I know some folks in the Pentagon. I’ll make a few calls, maybe even fly up to Washington, see what I can find out.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Of course I will. It won’t necessarily turn up anything, but it’s worth a try.”
“And you and I are going to Asheville in the morning,” Chase said. “To take a look at this safety deposit box. Maybe your dad left something there that will tell us where he is.”
“Or was.”
“Yes, perhaps so, but until we know that for a fact, let’s keep hoping.”
Allie wiped her eyes and tried to think clearly. Did she dare drive to Asheville in the morning? Leave Trey again? What would he say? Did it matter? If he responded poorly, would she tell Chase she couldn’t go? She could, of course, tell Chase to check the box without her. But she didn’t want that, not really. Whether her dad was alive or not, she wanted to see the few belongings he had left behind. Those little items might be the only tangible part of him she would ever touch. It didn’t seem right that someone else, even someone as close to her dad as Chase, would be the one to find those last slivers of his life.
Allie thought of Gladys and wondered what to tell her. Should she call her right now and inform her of what she’d learned? But how would that hit her in her frazzled state, already near the edge of her emotional and physical capacity?
No, Allie decided. She’d wait until she knew more before telling her mom anything. If her dad was dead, Gladys would learn soon enough. Until then, there was no reason to upset her.
Allie locked eyes with Chase. “Can you meet me at the bank in Asheville about ten in the morning?”
“You could spend the night here, and we could drive over together,” Chase suggested.
“Do you want Trey to break the engagement the week before my wedding?”
“You want my honest answer?”
“No!”
Chase and Walt chuckled lightly. “Forgive him,” Walt said. “He’s smitten with you.”
“I keep forgetting that you’re spoken for,” Chase said. “You have a selective memory,” Allie said.
“Women make him crazy,” Walt said.
In spite of the circumstances, Allie felt a small thrill. “All women?” she asked.
“Now that you mention it, just two,” Walt said.
“Two?”
“You and one other.”
Allie stared at Chase. “What’s her name?” she asked.
Chase dropped his head. “Now is not the time,” he said.
“I know what you mean.” Allie turned her thoughts back to the safety deposit box. “You think the bank is open tomorrow?” she asked.
“From nine to noon, I already checked.”
“See you then.”
When Allie called Trey the next morning, the conversation quickly became a disaster. “You didn’t call me last night,” he accused immediately.
“It was so late.”
“I worried about you, could barely sleep.”
“I had a lot to think about.”
“Like what?”
Allie quickly detailed what had happened the previous night, reminding him to say nothing to her mom until she knew more. “I’m going to Asheville now,” she said.
“You’re doing what?”
Standing on her deck with the sun warming her face, Allie rubbed her forehead. “I have to do this,” she explained. “A couple of hours tops. I’m back by lunch, and that will be the end of it.”
“I don’t know why it can’t wait!”
“Because if my dad is still alive, this may lead me to him!”
“If that’s the case, you can find him after we get back from the honeymoon. If he’s dead... well, it surely won’t matter then.”
Allie tried to take a breath. Was Trey right? Should she leave things alone for now? Logically, his way made the most sense. But she’d tossed logic out the window the second she decided to hunt for her dad. So why revert to it now? She was acting on intuition, instinct, gut feeling, mystery wrapped in riddles clothed in enigmas. She closed her eyes, listened to the chirping of a bird, tried to hear her heart, listen to her soul. A bee buzzed near her face, and she smelled the sweet scent of flowers blooming. What? she wondered. Which way do I go?
She opened her eyes. “I’ll be back by lunch,
” she told Trey.
“I can’t talk you out of it?”
“No.”
“This really hacks me.”
“I know.”
“Is the Chase fellow going with you?”
Allie hesitated.
“He is, isn’t he?”
“I wanted to ask you to come with me but knew you wouldn’t.”
“You’re right about that; somebody has to be the responsible one around here.”
She grabbed the deck rail and squeezed it. “I’m sorry this upsets you,” she said.
“Sorry needs actions to back it up.”
“I’ll see you by lunch.”
“We need to have a long talk when you return.”
“Chase Mason is a friend, that’s all,” she insisted.
“I assure you, he won’t be the subject of our talk.”
Allie clenched the rail tighter, rebelling against the patronizing tone in Trey’s voice. “I’ll see you later.”
She hung up and thirty minutes later piloted her car out of Harper Springs and toward Asheville.
Chase met Allie at the front entrance of the bank, a stately four-columned, red-brick building near the end of Asheville’s central street. He wore khakis, a blue button-down shirt, and black loafers without socks.
“You look almost corporate,” she said.
“I’m an educated man,” he retorted. “I can look like a frat boy when I want.”
She smiled, and they walked together into the bank. Inside she pulled the safety deposit box key from her purse and held it up. “Number 1868,” she said. “Which way do we go?”
Chase quickly moved to a bank teller, talked a moment, then returned to her. “This way.” He pointed. “Down the stairs one floor, then left.”
A couple of minutes later, they reached the safety deposit boxes. Allie held up the key, and a bank employee waved them through a roped-off area. Chase touched her arm, and she halted.
“You want to do this by yourself?” he asked.
She immediately shook her head. “No, you come with me.”
“Okay.”
They moved into the roped area, and Allie found 1868 and stopped before it, key in hand. “I’m nervous,” she said.
