"Hawkman and I heard the news.” She frowned. “You said, ‘we'. Is there someone with you?"
"Yeah. Maryann Parker.” He lowered his voice. “Her dad died."
"Yes, we read about his death in the paper. Would she like me to call her mother and tell her about the delay?"
"No. She said her mom didn't expect her."
Jennifer grimaced. “Really?"
"I gotta go. Don't wait up. We're safe, but have no idea when I'll be home."
"Glad you called. Drive carefully."
"Okay, bye."
After hanging up, she turned toward Hawkman. “How odd."
"What?” Hawkman asked. “I assume you were taking to Sam."
She nodded. “Maryann Parker's with him, but he said there's no need to call Lilly because she doesn't know her daughter's coming home.” Jennifer furrowed her brow. “Don't you think that's peculiar under the circumstances?"
"Yes. Obviously, Sam didn't give any explanation."
"No. I've a suspicion Maryann stood within earshot."
* * * *
Sam stuck the remaining change from the phone call into his pocket and strolled toward Maryann. “See a theater around? We could kill a couple of hours watching the latest release."
Maryann rolled her eyes. “You must be kidding. We're in the middle of no man's land. This hamburger joint is the only place within miles. We can count ourselves lucky it's here."
Sam laughed. “You're right. At least we won't starve. Well, how do you want to kill a few hours? Have a deck of cards on you by any chance? We could play a little poker. Or some other game. I know girls aren't to crazy about Jacks or better."
"Sorry. I only packed the bare essentials."
"I noticed you only had one bag. Are you going back for summer school after the funer ... uh, after you've visited for awhile?"
"I haven't decided. My roomies are staying, so my apartment is secure. I noticed a stranger at your place. Did you lease for the summer?"
Sam thought it curious Maryann had noticed, as Dan Williams had only been there since last night. “Yeah. I'm taking a rest. Gonna play awhile, then hit it again in the fall. This is the first time I haven't attended a summer session. Decided I needed a break."
They meandered toward the pickup and Sam kicked a stone with the tip of his cowboy boot, sending it sailing across the parking lot. He pointed toward the direction of the fire. “Looks like the smoke's thinning. One thing about that barricade the police set up, we can see it from here. As soon as they remove it, we'll be able to leave."
"Yeah, but they're not real swift on stuff like fires,” Maryann said. “They're overly cautious and we could be here for hours."
Sam nodded. “Well, we could take off and go the long route. It's up to you."
She shook her head. “I'm in no hurry."
Resting his arms on the rim around the bed of the truck, Sam stared at her. “Why? Aren't you anxious to get home to your mom? Don't you think she needs you right now?"
She threw back her head and laughed. “Comfort my Mom. Is that what you think I should be doing?"
"It seems the most logical thing."
She shot Sam a look he couldn't decipher. He decided it fell somewhere between evil and mean.
"Oh, Sam, you're so naive,” she giggled. “My Mom's probably rejoicing to have that man out of her life. More than likely, she's drunk with happiness."
He felt his cheeks flush and gritted his teeth. This woman made him very uncomfortable. “Tell me, did you ever meet your real father?"
"Several times."
"Do you like him?"
She shrugged. “He's all right."
"Tell me about the man."
"Not much to tell. He came from one of the Shasta Indian tribes. A big man with a yummy physique. Broad shoulders, bronze skin and long black hair.” She took hold of a strand of her own. “This color. All in all, a really nice looking guy. He probably would have made a much better father than I had."
"Did you get to be with him much?"
"Not until I got older.” She opened the truck door and hopped upon the seat, hanging her feet out the side. “When my old man decided I definitely wasn't his, he could have cared less where I went or what I did. So I had a lot of freedom to roam. That's when I met my real Dad."
"How'd you meet him? Did your mom introduce you or what?"
She laughed. “It's a crazy story. When I was fourteen and old enough to stay by myself, Mom always took off on a Wednesday, but never told me where she went. We had this old station wagon and it always had a bunch of empty cardboard boxes and stuff crammed in the back. So I found a good hiding place under one of them behind the rear seat."
"Oh, no!” Sam said, slapping his forehead. “I bet you got into a heap of trouble."
"Actually, I thought the same thing when the wagon finally stopped and I sneezed, giving away my hiding place. It scared me to death when this big bare chested Indian man, wearing a pair of slim legged Levi's and cowboy boots, lifted up the box. He reminded me of those covers you see on the front of Romance novels. Standing next to my Mom, he seemed huge. If she hadn't been there, I'd probably have screamed."
"So what happened?"
"He took hold of my arm and helped me crawl out of the car. Then he gently laid a hand on each of my shoulders and looked into my eyes. ‘You're very lovely. You shouldn't hide under a box.’”
Sam cocked his head and stared at her. “Is that all? You mean he didn't scold or hit you?"
Maryann twisted a piece of her hair between her fingers and shook her head. “Nope. Of course, later, my Mom gave me hell for hiding in the car. And warned me not to tell Burke or he'd beat us both."
"Did she tell you the Indian was your real dad?"
"No. In my young mind, I figured Mom just bought supplies from him, as he gave her a box of dried beans and vegetables. At that time, it never dawned on me it could be anything else."
"So when did you learn?"
Maryann stared toward the sky. “Let's see, it must have been the next year. A few days after my fifteenth birthday. Burke came home real late in a drunken stupor. I could hear Mom screaming at him from my bedroom. When she lit into him for not being around for my birthday or giving me a present, it developed into a heated argument. He carried on about how that ‘damn little squaw wasn't his and he didn't have to give her a gift'. He went on to say, ‘no daughter of mine would have long black hair and skin as brown as toast'. That's when it dawned on me.” She lowered her head and sighed. “I remember getting up and examining myself in the mirror. I knew then, Burke Parker wasn't my father."
"That must have been quite a shock."
She nodded. “It threw me a bit. But being older, I started putting two and two together. The next day, when Burke left the house, I cornered my mother and she told me the story about how she fell in love with Madukarahat, my real father."
Sam frowned. “Madukarahat?"
"Yes, I call him Maduk. His name means giant."
CHAPTER FOUR
A black and white patrol car caught Sam's attention as it stopped in front of the roadblock. He pointed toward the highway. “Looks like they're removing the barricades. Let's get on the road.” He dashed around the rear of the truck and jumped into the driver's seat.
Maryann slammed the door and put on her seat belt, grinning. “There,” she said, patting the buckle. “Now you don't have to scold me."
Sam smiled and turned the ignition. “At least we didn't have to wait too long. We should get home by dark, if we don't have any more delays. Continue your story about discovering your father,” he said, pulling onto the road.
"Why do you want to know about all that stuff?"
"I think it's interesting and it gives us something to talk about."
"If you really want to hear it, but I can guarantee it's not exciting."
"I'll be the judge. Now, tell me. Did your real dad know all along you were his daughter?"
Maryann sighed and nodd
ed. “Yes. He wanted to introduce me into the tribe at my birth, but Mom wouldn't hear of it. While I was still an infant, she'd take me with her when they met in secluded spots. She said he'd just sit and rock me for a solid hour without saying a word. Once I got older, she stopped the visits, afraid he might take me away."
"Did he ever find out how Burke treated you and your mom?"
Maryann took a deep breath and stared out the window.
Sam shot her a quick glance when she didn't speak for several moments. “Sorry, maybe I'm trodding where I shouldn't."
"Yeah, I think so. I don't want to talk about it any more."
"Understand. Want to talk about school?"
She stuck out her tongue. “Not really. Why don't you tell me what your plans are for the summer."
"I'm going to fish, shoot digger squirrels, take Pretty Girl hunting and, go bike riding with Richard."
She put up her hands. “Wait, hold it. Who's Pretty Girl? And Richard who?"
Sam laughed. “Pretty Girl is Hawkman's falcon. Richard Clifford is the deaf boy who lives up near Topsy Grade."
"Now I remember how Hawkman got his name. Has he always had a falcon?"
"Yep. There was a short time after Pretty Boy died that he didn't have one, but Jennifer found another bird in Washington and had it flown in for his birthday a couple years ago."
"And I remember Richard. He's the guy whose mother and dog were murdered by that old hermit."
Sam nodded. “Yeah, tragic story. He's really a nice guy."
Maryann frowned. “How do you talk to him?"
"He reads your lips. You just make sure he's looking at you and he can answer you. His voice sounds a little strange, but that's because he can't hear the inflections. His mother never allowed him to learn sign language. She wanted him to be able to fit into society. And he's succeeded there and also made such excellent grades in high school that he got a scholarship to college."
"That's amazing,” Maryann said. “Where does he live now?"
"Still up in the same little house. Except he and his Uncle Joe have completely revamped the place and it really looks nice."
"Interesting. So, how long have you been friends?"
"Years. We used to ride in the hills together when we were younger and didn't even know each other's name.” Sam chuckled. “I have some fond memories of those rides."
Maryann shook her head. “Guys do strange things."
"So what are you planning for the summer?"
"I'm debating about going back for summer school or staying home. It all depends on the situation."
* * * *
Jennifer strolled into the living room and took a seat opposite Hawkman in the matching swivel chair.
"Do you feel better now that Sam's called?” he asked.
"Yes and no.” She drummed her fingers on the armrest.
"Why, no?"
"Because of who's with him."
He shrugged. “What's wrong with Maryann Parker? School's out and she probably needed a ride home."
"It's not so much her hitching a ride, but the fact Lilly doesn't even know her daughter's coming home. I'd have thought the girl would already be here with her mother. It just seems strange."
"This whole Parker business is getting more bizarre by the minute. It sounds like a dysfunctional family."
Jennifer sighed and shook her head. “I think you've pegged it. Certainly makes one wonder."
"Let's not make any judgments. We don't know the whole story. The girl could have come home then returned for finals. Granted, it's unusual behavior, but let's find out more from Sam."
She snapped her fingers. “Oh, not to change the subject, but don't let me forget to tell Sam Uncle Joe called. He said Richard tried to text message Sam on the cell, but couldn't get a response."
"That's understandable. But it'll go through as soon as Sam's in an area where the signal's stronger."
Hawkman dropped his feet off the ottoman and sat forward in the chair. “Getting back to the Parkers. I think I'm going to drop in on Detective Williams tomorrow and see if he knows anything about Burke's death. It's out of his jurisdiction, but sometimes Yreka calls on him if they need help"
"You think it might be foul play?"
"Do you know the age of Maryann's parents?"
"I'd say in their forties."
"That seems mighty young for a man to die, unless he had severe health problems. Have you heard Burke had any ailments other than alcoholism?"
"No, but that alone could cause a multitude of illnesses."
"True. The autopsy should give some clues."
Jennifer squirmed in her chair. “How horrible for Maryann if they discover her dad had been murdered."
Hawkman picked up the remote control and flipped on the television to the local station. “Let's see if they have any news on that fire."
Both of them focused on the screen.
"Oh good,” Jennifer said. “They've opened the road. Sam should make it home by dark."
CHAPTER FIVE
When Sam pulled into the driveway at Maryann's home, he could hardly believe his eyes. The house had changed drastically from what he remembered four years ago. Paint had peeled from spots on the exterior walls revealing bare wood. One of the gutters on the side of the house hung precariously in front of a window. The grass in the front yard had given up and dandelions grew in abundance. Brown stems of what used to be colorful flowers stood tall in the pots that lined the sagging porch.
Maryann didn't move for several moments, her gaze fixed on the house. “Looks pretty seedy doesn't it?"
"It definitely needs some attention. Maybe this summer Richard and I can help you get this place back in shape. I'm sure your mom doesn't have the money to hire someone to do it, especially now with no money coming in from your da ... uh, Burke."
She stared into his face. “I can't expect you guys to spend your summer vacation working on a dilapidated old house."
"I'm serious. The place is small. A bit of paint, a few nails, and some grass seeds will do wonders. Why within a few weeks of hitting it hard every day, we'll have it done."
Maryann sighed and jumped out of the truck. “I appreciate your offer, Sam. Let me see what my Mom's plans are before you even think about it. Who knows, she might have left the country."
Sam climbed out of the pickup and walked around to the bed of the truck. “Is she working?"
"She's been working as a waitress at a greasy spoon cafe downtown for about six or seven months. I don't even remember the name of the place."
Sam unfastened the tarp and pulled out her suitcase. “Give me a call. If Richard can't help, I'd be more than happy to do what I can.” He turned toward the house, but Maryann took the bag from him.
"I can manage. Thanks for the ride."
Sam climbed into his truck and as he snapped on his seat belt noticed a scroungy looking man step from the narrow alley behind the Parker house. He watched for a moment as the vagabond adjusted the plastic bag he had slung over his shoulder before proceeding down the street. Sam shook his head as he turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the curb. This part of town had its share of outcasts and it made him thankful he didn't live here.
Soon, his sad thoughts of Maryann and her dilemma faded as he drove toward Copco Lake. A feeling of giddiness overtook him and he could hardly wait to see his folks. Even though he'd been home over the Christmas holidays, it seemed like an eternity ago.
* * * *
Maryann carried her suitcase up the rickety stairs of the porch and dropped it at the entry. She gave Sam a wave as he pulled away from the house. “Mom, it's me. Are you there?” she called, softly rapping on the wooden frame.
When no one answered, she dug into her purse for a set of keys and unlocked the front door. She picked up her bag and stepped into the living room. Tossing the suitcase on the couch, she called again. “Mom, are you here?” Still no answer.
Taking a cigarette from the pack lying on th
e end table, she lit it, then carried an overflowing ashtray to the kitchen and dumped it into the trash can. The house smelled of stale smoke and food, so she opened a couple of windows to let a breeze blow through. Strolling back into the kitchen, she flipped on the light and let out a sigh as her gaze traveled across a sink full of dirty dishes. Skillets with congealed grease coating their bottoms sat on the stove. When she walked across the room, the soles of her boots stuck to the floor, making a sucking noise. She snuffed out her cigarette in a dirty saucer, left the room in disgust, picked up her suitcase, and headed for the room she called her own.
Not sure what to expect, she hesitated a moment before opening the door. To her surprise, even though a musty smell invaded her nostrils, everything appeared much like she'd left them from her last trip home. The Raggedy Ann doll with the smiling face still graced the pillow on her bed. She dropped her bag on the floor and opened the windows.
While things aired out, Maryann meandered through the rest of the house. When she came to her mother's bedroom, she leaned against the door jamb and stared at the pitiful sight of clothes strewn over the chairs, bed and floor. Her mother had never been very neat, but her housekeeping had gone from bad to worse in just a short time. Things were definitely rough for her mom, but it didn't excuse filth, she thought.
No sense in putting it off. Mother probably won't be home until midnight, since most of the food places stayed open until ten or eleven o'clock on the weekends. And more than likely, she'd stay and help with the cleanup. It will give me time to scour the bathroom and get the kitchen into decent shape so we can fix a meal without the fear of getting sick. Changing into her tennis shoes, Maryann pulled her hair into a pony tail, donned an apron and set to work.
At eleven thirty, she finally finished mopping the kitchen floor. Opening the back door to hasten the drying, she noticed the beam of a flashlight down in the corner of the alley. She let out a disgusted sigh and spoke aloud. “That old vagabond's not about to leave his source of food.” Hanging up the apron on a nail in the small pantry, she turned and smiled to herself as she eyed her handiwork. At least the stove, refrigerator and sink now sparkled. A big difference from what she'd walked into a few hours ago. She pulled the rubber band off her pony tail, ran her fingers through her thick hair and let it billow around her shoulders. “That feels much better,” she mumbled, shaking her head.
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