Today We Go Home

by Kelli Estes

  And then the noise stopped. She held herself still, listening for movement. When she opened her eyes, she was no longer on the street, but sitting on a colorful floor cushion, sweets and tea spread before her on the desterkahn—a large plastic tablecloth on the floor where food was served. Anahita sat across from her wearing a dress bursting with colors to rival the floor cushions and a green chador pulled back to reveal her short, amber hair. When she saw Larkin staring at her, she smiled a sad, knowing smile. “Tell my story, Bennett. Don’t let them forget me.”

  Larkin jerked awake and immediately regretted the movement because it set the room spinning. For several long moments, she lay completely still with her arm over her eyes, waiting for the room to stop and her stomach to settle.

  The dream had felt so real. She could still hear Anahita’s words ringing in her ears.

  Tell my story. Don’t let them forget me.

  She had told Anahita’s story. She’d told it to her family and to Zach, and each time it had only hurt more. What did Anahita want? What did Sarah want?

  The surge of emotions roiling through her stirred up her stomach, and her mouth began watering in the painful way it always did when she was about to vomit.

  She lurched from the bed and made it into the bathroom just in time to throw up into the toilet.

  After her stomach was emptied, she felt too weak to move, and she did not trust her stomach not to heave again, so she lay on the bathroom floor between the toilet and the bathtub, every nerve in her body sensitive and aching.

  When she woke, she found a bath towel draped over her, and she didn’t know if she’d pulled it over herself or if she had Grams to thank.

  The familiar greasy sludge of shame oozed over her at the thought of Grams seeing her like this. Damn. For months she’d been trying to hide the darkness inside her, but it kept leaking out anyway and dragging the people around her down with it.

  Why was she hiding? Who did she think she was fooling? No one, that’s who. There wasn’t one person she could think of who was fooled by Larkin’s act. Certainly not Grams, not her parents, not Kaia, not Jenna. Not even Zach Faber anymore.

  She might as well tell the whole world the truth. Lay herself bare. Share her shame with everyone so that when she took herself away, no one would miss her. They’d be relieved.

  With that decided, Larkin crawled out to her bedroom and opened her laptop. Without thinking about what she was writing, she poured out the story of Nahid, Anahita, and Sarah. Every painful word of it.

  Without revising or editing, she posted the story on her blog. It was her penance. It was her explanation.

  It was her goodbye.

  * * *

  The ringing of her cell phone woke her, and she answered without thinking.

  “Larkin, it’s Zach. Sorry I didn’t call you back last night like I said I would.”

  Larkin’s eyes flew open. She’d fallen asleep on the floor. Hearing Zach’s voice now, when she was still feeling sick and vulnerable, sent a surge of panic through her. She did not have the strength for another battering on her heart. This was going to hurt, and there was no way to protect herself from it. She pushed herself up so she was sitting with her back against the bed. Her heart was racing, and she thought she might vomit again.

  “Anyway,” he said, sounding confused that she hadn’t spoken. “I, uh, I thought over what you told me, and I wanted to let you know that I don’t blame you. I don’t think you could have done anything differently.”

  “I could have shot Anahita before Sarah got too close to the bomb.”

  He sucked in his breath, and Larkin knew she’d surprised him.

  “I could have done my fucking job and not gotten involved in the first place,” she added.

  Zach was silent for a beat. “Look, Larkin. I admit I didn’t know Sarah, but from what you’ve told me, and from what I’ve heard in your voice and seen on your face, you are a person who cares about people. You only wanted to help that girl, and sure, it went wrong, but that doesn’t mean you were wrong to try. In fact, I know you expected me to hate you once you told me the story, but actually, it made me like you even more. I can see why Sarah loved you.”

  “But, Zach—”

  “No buts, Larkin,” he interrupted. “You’ve given me the greatest gift I could ever hope for by bringing Sarah back to me. After that day on the beach with you when we said goodbye to her, I’ve felt a sense of peace that I never knew was possible. Thank you.”

  That surprised her, and she was happy to hear he felt this way, but she knew the truth. She knew there was no fixing what she’d done. “Look, Zach, I don’t think you understand.”

  “I think I do, Larkin,” he said softly.

  His tone wasn’t argumentative, nor was it cajoling. It sounded like he was stating a simple truth. Maybe that’s why she believed him. It was as though he was so certain of his words that she could do nothing else. “Oh. Okay.”

  “And there’s something else,” he went on. “I want to help you look for Willie Smith’s family and return the handkerchief and ring to them. I never connected with Emily the way Sarah did, but ever since you told me about all that, I feel like she’s important. I want to help you fulfill the promise she made to Willie, and I think it would make Sarah happy if we do it together. What do you think?”

  Larkin thought about her plan. She’d posted the story with the intention of taking her life afterward. If she hadn’t fallen back asleep, would she be gone now? If Zach hadn’t called when he did, would she have woken up and gone through with it?

  An unfamiliar sense of calm came over her, and she could’ve sworn Sarah was sitting on the floor beside her. Did Larkin want to keep living? Keep searching for Willie’s family? Accept Zach’s offer of help?

  Yes. Yes, she did. For now, at least. “I’d like that, Zach.”

  “Okay.” His laugh sounded self-conscious. “With that, I should probably get back to work. But let’s talk more tonight. Or whenever you have more time. I want to hear everything you’ve done with the project.”

  Larkin agreed and they hung up, with her feeling more than a little shocked at the turn of the conversation. Zach didn’t blame her for Sarah’s death. How could that be?

  She thought over everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours and realized that, had she succeeded in driving herself into a tree last night, she wouldn’t have been here today to take Zach’s call. She would have died thinking that he hated her when, really, he sounded as if he wanted to be her friend. She’d be a fool to throw that away.

  Picking up her phone again, she called her therapist. The moment she got on the line, Larkin said the three words she now knew she should have been saying all along. “I need help.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  July 1862: Nebraska Territory

  By stretching Emily’s cash and the kids’ pickpocket earnings as far as they could, she and her new little family traveled by steamship down the Cumberland River to the Ohio and then up the Mississippi to Quincy, Missouri. From there, they traveled by train to the very end of the line at St. Joseph, Missouri, where they bought passage on another steamer up the Missouri River to Omaha, Nebraska. The farther they traveled from the war, the easier Emily breathed.

  Luck was on their side during their last steamer ride up the Missouri when a young married couple from Omaha befriended the young family and, after Emily admitted she had no idea where they would stay once they arrived, invited them to be their guests. Emily was about to gratefully accept when she remembered her agreement with Gabriel, that once they reached Nebraska he would be her son and not her servant.

  With a deceptively serene smile, she asked the couple the one question she could think of that would reveal their true natures. “That is a kind offer, and I do thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Goss. But before I accept, I must make certain that your invitation include
s all three of my children.”

  The couple exchanged a surprised glance, and then their eyes sought out Gabriel, who was sitting with his siblings near the window, watching the riverbank of Nebraska pass by. “Why, yes,” Mr. Goss said with a warm smile as he stretched his arm across the back of his wife’s chair. “I do believe we have room for all four of you. You and your daughter can sleep in the guest room, and your two sons can sleep in the adjoining bedroom. Our room is across the hall. Does that suit you?”

  Relief came so suddenly that Emily found she could not speak around the lump in her throat. There weren’t many folks who would view her new family without judgment, yet the Gosses did. Emily knew her smile must be blinding, but she could not pull it back. She took Mrs. Goss’s hand in her own. “I did not know what we would do in Omaha with dwindling funds and no place to stay. Your invitation is generous, and I promise to repay you one day.”

  “Nonsense,” said the kind woman as she patted Emily’s hand. “You’ll be doing me a kindness by showing me how to raise children. I have no experience, and it’s something I’ll need to know soon.” She placed her free hand on her still-flat stomach.

  Emily silently laughed at the idea that she—so new to the role—would have parenting advice to give, but outwardly she gushed, “That is wonderful news. Congratulations!”

  And so, upon disembarking from the stern-wheeler Cora, the new little family followed Mr. and Mrs. Goss into a cramped carriage that carried them across town to their temporary home in Omaha.

  With the Gosses’ help, Emily and the kids became acquainted with Omaha. Whenever she could fit it into conversation, Emily inquired of her new acquaintances about families in the area with a name starting with the letter E who had two daughters and a son. Only once had she received an introduction to such a family but was disappointed to find all three children were school-aged and couldn’t possibly be Willie’s family.

  Even though the Gosses so generously provided them with two bedrooms, most nights the boys ended up in Emily’s room, where they fell asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace. Emily always welcomed them because she knew why they were there. Every single one of them suffered from nightmares. Their cries in the night echoed Emily’s own, and told her of the traumas they had endured.

  Gabriel’s cries were the most heartbreaking, and often Emily would leave her bed to gather him into her arms. The memories plaguing him were more than her impotent reassurances could conquer, but she continued to try, night after night.

  Caring for the children gave Emily something to focus on other than her own trauma and loss. But on the nights when her dreams became too much, she always woke to find at least one of the children snuggled against her, holding her like she held them during nightmares. They belonged to each other now, all four of them, and Emily vowed to protect them for the rest of her life.

  Slowly, they collected supplies for their new home, including clothing, weapons, farm tools, and building materials, almost all of it offered freely by their new friends, or on credit using the Gosses’ good name as a character reference with promises of payment as soon as the crops Emily planned to plant started selling.

  While Omaha was a lovely little town, Emily knew she wanted to be out on the prairie. She wanted to live the rest of her days gazing upon the land that Willie had described to her so vividly all those nights by their campfire and during all those seemingly endless miles of marching. She wanted to be free to wear trousers if she wanted, or dresses if that fit her fancy, with no one making a comment on the matter. She wanted the children to run free like she and her brothers had when she was young. And so, after a long conversation with the children to be sure they agreed, Emily bid farewell to their new friends and packed up the wagon she’d bought on credit, along with a horse and oxen, with a promise to send payment as soon as possible.

  Following the wagon train roads, they headed west along the Platte River with an eye always searching for a place they could call home.

  They found it nearly ninety miles from Omaha, west of the tiny town of Columbus along the north side of Loup River where it bent like a horseshoe.

  “Is this it, Mama?” Isaac asked, standing on the buckboard with his hand shading his eyes. “Is this our new home?”

  Emily breathed deeply of the scent of prairie grasses and wildflowers baking in the sun. Then she climbed down and reached back to help Isaac and Nellie as Gabriel jumped down on his own. “I think so. What do you think?”

  Isaac smiled at her, showing a gap where he’d lost a tooth during their journey. “I like it here.”

  “I do, too,” Nellie chimed in. Then, grabbing her brother’s hand, she said, “Come on, let’s go see the river.”

  “Be careful!” Emily called as they ran off, loving how she sounded like a true mother. Loving even more how the kids could run and laugh as though their young lives had never seen hardship.

  A warm hand slipped into hers, and her heart caught in her throat. Giving it a squeeze, Emily looked down at Gabriel. “What do you think? Should this be our new home?”

  He seemed to be considering the question in great depth. Then, to her surprise, he asked, “Do they have plantations here? And slaves?”

  Emily had to swallow before she could answer him. “No. The people of Nebraska Territory voted to make slavery illegal here. You’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Gabriel sighed, and his entire body seemed to relax as though he was letting go of a great weight. He lifted his chin and asked, “Can I go play, too…Mama?”

  Unable to speak around the stinging in her throat, Emily nodded and watched as he ran off to join the other two who were throwing rocks into the river.

  “I made it, Willie,” she said aloud, feeling the warm wind carry her words away. “I’ll make you proud, dear friend, and I promise you, I’ll never stop looking for your family.”

  She swore she felt a hand touch her cheek, and she gasped. With tears falling down her cheeks, she whispered, “I miss you, Willie. Take care of my little brother for me, okay?”

  And then, with a shuddering sigh, she, too, went to throw rocks in the river.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Present day: Woodinville, Washington

  July 29, 1862: We found our homestead today. Tomorrow we start building the foundation for our cabin. Already, Gabriel is acting more his age. Freedom has lifted the weight of fear off him. We have a lot of work ahead of us, so I won’t have much time for writing in my diary anymore. Thank you, Pa. You had no way of knowing how much I would need this book to get me through, but that’s what it did. Give Mama and David and Benjamin my love. I know all four of you are watching over me and the children. We’ll need you. Take care of Willie, too. You would have loved her as a daughter. Don’t you worry none about me, you got that? I miss you all more than I can convey, but I have a reason to get up every morning with a smile on my face, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. That reason is calling me right now to tuck them into bed, so I must put down my pen. Soldiering was hard, but I would do it all again because it led me here to my new home and my new family. It gave me the chance to prove I am as strong as any man, and it showed me that I can overcome any challenge put before me. I served honorably, Pa, and that’s something I’m proud of.

  Even if nobody knows.

  April 7, 1928: Grandma Emily died today after a long and happy life. We found it fitting that she passed away on April 7, the same day that Willie and Ben died sixty-six years earlier. I have no doubt she is with them now, all sitting around their campfire and telling stories.

  Grandma didn’t write in her diary once she and the kids settled in Nebraska. I think it was her way of moving forward with her life. Maybe she even found peace. Either way, I’m writing this now so all of her grandchildren and their children will know the rest of her story.

  Emily and the children successfully homesteaded their land and
were given the deed in 1868. They were happy there, the four of them. When Nellie got married in 1874 and moved out west with her new husband, Emily decided to go with them, settling in Sacramento, California. It was in Sacramento that she met her husband, John Haydon, who was also a Civil War veteran. They were very happy right up until his death in 1916.

  To all of Emily’s descendants, please safeguard this diary so that Emily will always be remembered. She was a strong and loving woman who did something not many other women have done. May we all grow up to be strong like her.

  Larkin closed Emily’s diary and held it against her chest, wishing she could keep reading Emily’s story. What was their life like in Nebraska? What was the man she fell in love with like, and did he treat her right? What kind of people did the kids grow up to become? She wished she could talk to Emily and ask her if her bad dreams finally left her alone, or if they plagued her throughout her life. She wished she could ask what she’d done to look for Willie’s family.

  One thing that seemed certain was that writing her experiences in this book had helped Emily through her war trauma. Larkin did not know if Emily was ever healed, but at least she was able to process and cope with the effects of that trauma, which Larkin now knew was vitally important.

  Her therapist had told her right from the beginning that she would feel better once she told the story of that day in Kandahar, but Larkin had resisted. Talking about it felt like she was teetering over a bottomless black pit that would suck her down and suffocate her.

  What she hadn’t realized was that she’d needed to go down into that pit so she could emerge out the other end, free from the fear that had controlled her. She finally told her therapist the story, and then she’d told it again, and again, and she was finally starting to get some distance from it. She could feel that one day soon she might be able to shrug off the chains that bound her to what happened and see it as a time of her life that was in the past and no longer controlling her. She hoped so, at least.