The Feathered Bone

by Julie Cantrell

  Do not react, Amanda. Don’t let him beat you down.

  “Carl, I’m sorry you believe that about me. It was very hard for my mother to raise me on her own. You know that. And you also know that nothing matters more to me than my family, giving Ellie a stable, happy home. This is the last thing I wanted in my life. Especially for Ellie.” My emotions get the best of me now. As my pitch peaks, Carl reacts with more hate.

  “Stop yelling at me! You love to fight, don’t you!”

  “I’m not yelling. I’m crying. Listen, Carl. I would never try to come between you and Ellie. She needs you. She needs to know you love her. She’s questioning that now, of course, and that will leave a lasting scar. Trust me. I know.”

  “Of course you do!” He is being sarcastic now. “You’re the great Amanda Salassi. You know everything.”

  “She needs to trust that we will never abandon her. That there are two people in this world who are here to love her no matter how hard life gets. We are those people, Carl. If you want to leave me, that’s one thing. But you can’t leave Ellie. That’s not how it works.”

  “That’s why I’m taking her for the weekend. I made reservations in New Orleans. For Mardi Gras. We’ll go down for Endymion on Saturday, stay through for Bacchus on Sunday. One night away.”

  I grab hold of the kitchen chair. Images of Ellie and Sarah come back to me. They are laughing and bowing in their costumes at Mardi Gras World, waving their hands like queens of the carnival. “Carl, you can’t be serious. New Orleans? This time of year? After what happened with Sarah?” I hear him laughing. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you take her down there. Not for Mardi Gras.”

  “I knew you’d make a big deal out of it. Always overdramatic. Like we live in a soap opera or something. They’re hardly even having the parades this year. Everything’s still wrecked from Katrina. It’ll be a bunch of locals catching beads. Don’t make it a problem.”

  “Sarah was taken on a regular Friday afternoon,” I argue. “In one of the safest parts of the city.”

  “What do you want to do? You want to lock Ellie in a cage? Don’t you get it? You’re doing more harm to her than if she was kidnapped.”

  I cannot find the strength to counter. He senses blood and goes for the kill.

  “We’ll pick her up Saturday morning. Around ten. Have her ready.”

  “We?” I ask, my voice a whisper.

  “Ashleigh and me. You can’t keep my daughter from me, Amanda. Don’t fight me on this, or I’ll file for divorce and demand full custody.”

  He hangs up the phone, and I’m left with my head spinning. I hurry to the bathroom, where I bend over the toilet just in time. When nothing remains, I wash my face, brush my teeth, and feel my way down the hall to Ellie’s bedroom, crying.

  “What’s wrong? Mom? Tell me, what’s going on?”

  After all these months of staying strong for Ellie, refusing to break, being the container for her grief, I finally lose it. I crawl across her bed and cry until my heart is empty of pain.

  Ellie sits beside me, watching me. “I’m sorry,” I say, again and again. “I’m sorry.”

  Get a grip, Amanda. Don’t throw this on Ellie. She’s the child. You’re the mother. Be strong.

  I sit straighter, catch my breath, and then it comes rising up again. “This is all so unfair,” I sob. “Why is he doing this to us?”

  “I called Ms. Raelynn,” Ellie says. “I’m worried about you, Mom. You’re not okay.”

  “You’re right, Ellie. I’m not okay. I’m not okay!” I explain Carl’s plans for Mardi Gras. “I never wanted anything more than a happy home . . . a good family for you. And I tried so hard to be perfect, keep him happy. You deserve better.”

  “Mom, don’t worry about it. I don’t want to go to New Orleans.” Ellie hugs me. “Besides, I’m not an idiot. I know he isn’t doing this for me. He’s just trying to look good in front of that Ashleigh lady. That’s all he cares about now. Her.”

  “Oh, Ellie. He loves you very much. He’s just confused. It happens to men around this age . . . a midlife crisis. It’s very common. They get kind of lost. This isn’t who he really is.”

  As I say this, Raelynn arrives, rushing into the bedroom. “What on earth is going on?”

  Ellie answers for me. “She can’t stop crying.”

  “What’d he do now?” Raelynn doesn’t shield Ellie from her thoughts about Carl.

  Again my daughter answers. “He threatened to divorce Mom and fight her for custody if she doesn’t let him take me to New Orleans for Mardi Gras with that . . .” Ellie describes Ashleigh using words I’ve never said in my life, and Raelynn’s eyes grow wide, but not because of Ellie’s swearing.

  “He did what?” She is a ball of fire. “Get up, Amanda. Get up!” She pulls my arm, and I claw my way from Ellie’s bed.

  “Ellie, you are not going to New Orleans. And, Amanda, you are not losing custody of our girl.” She gives my daughter a strong, confident look, assuring us both she’s got this all under control. “Here’s what we’re going to do.” She hands me my phone. “You’re going to call Carl right this minute. And you’ll tell him there’s no way on God’s green earth Ellie will step foot in New Orleans for Mardi Gras. If he wants to file for divorce, then he can go right ahead. He owes you a favor anyway.”

  Hello Sparrow,

  It’s Mardi Gras, and The Lady brought us a king cake. I call her Bridgette now. It hurts her feelings if I don’t. She got the piece with the baby, and she started dancing. She said she’d never won anything.

  I told her the baby means good luck. That made her happy. She had never thought of herself as lucky before. I said, “Well, now you are.”

  I told her about the three wise men and how the baby is supposed to be Jesus. She said it didn’t make any sense that Mary was a virgin, and I told her lots of things don’t make any sense. She said, “Ain’t that the truth.”

  Hello Sparrow,

  I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about a girl I knew who got pregnant. She was thirteen. Like me. Her name was Rose, and it turned out that her uncle was the father. She ended up having twins.

  Rose lived with us for a while, even after the babies were born. She lived in the room next to mine. Then one day her uncle came to get her. They took the babies too. Never even said good-bye.

  I told Bridgette this story, and she said, “Figures.”

  I asked Bridgette why Rose would go back to the man who hurt her.

  She sat real quiet for a long time. Then she said, “Maybe she loved him.”

  Hello Sparrow,

  I learned something about The Man and Bridgette. They aren’t married.

  My parents’ anniversary is in March. I want to mail them a card, but Bridgette said, “I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you. We’re your family now.”

  Every year Mom and Pop would say their vows, like they were getting married again:

  From this day forward, I will be your home.

  My arms will shelter you, never hurt you.

  My words will soothe you, never defeat you.

  And my love will strengthen you, never betray you.

  Then Pop would turn and say them to me. He used to tell me there was nothing I could do to stop him from loving me. I hope so. Because I’ve had to do a lot of things he wouldn’t like. That’s for sure.

  Chapter 20

  March 2006

  THE GYM IS PACKED FOR THE ANNUAL MIDDLE SCHOOL FUND-RAISER, where coaches and town leaders square off. They ride donkeys while playing basketball, and the noise is deafening. Between the pounding of the basketballs, the roar of the buzzer, and the cheer of the crowds, I have to lean close to hear Raelynn’s story about her family’s latest hunting adventures. Ellie sits with Nate and his brothers, playing a game on her phone and pretending she doesn’t know anyone here. During halftime Raelynn glances toward her and says to me, “At least she came.”

  “She’s only here for Nate, you know. She’d never leave her roo
m if it weren’t for the school plays. Since Carl left, she just keeps sinking. I’ve tried everything.”

  “Give her time.” The buzzer announces the start of the third quarter, and we both turn our attention back to the court. Raelynn cheers loudly for Nate’s favorite coach, and the rest of us clap along when he scores. I watch the cheerleaders and wonder where Sarah is now. “Have you talked to him?” She’s asking about Carl.

  “I’ve tried. A million times. I can’t get through to him. He won’t let me finish a sentence.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He shuts down every conversation. Tells me all I want to do is fight, or that I’m crazy, or that I never wanted to be married in the first place.”

  “Where’d he get that idea?” Raelynn laughs. “I don’t know anybody who was a better wife than you. Except maybe Beth. But even I could be a good wife to a man like Preacher.”

  “Carl should have married you.” I laugh. “You’d give him a reality check.”

  “Ha! He’d be dead by now!” Then, after a pause, she adds, “I never would have married him. His true colors were showing way back from the start.”

  “Not really, Raelynn. It didn’t get bad until Sarah was taken. That’s when things changed.”

  She sits upright and widens her eyes. “Are you serious, Amanda? Let me remind you, this is the very same man who pushed you out of the car on prom night. Left you crying in the mud as he sped away. Remember? You called Beth and me to come get you. We found you with your dress torn. All covered in mud.”

  “Let’s watch the game.”

  But Raelynn continues. She’s ready to tell me all she’s held in for years. I tune out, focusing instead on the donkeys and this ridiculous sport, wishing I could go back in time. Make different choices. Protect Sarah. Save my marriage. Fix these problems in Ellie’s life.

  “. . . And remember when you caught him cheating on you with that girl from Live Oak? He stormed through your mama’s house and punched holes in her doors like a madman. What were you, fifteen? I told your mom that day, I said, ‘Carl doesn’t really love Amanda.’ And I was right. I knew it even then. You just never listen to me.”

  “We were kids, Raelynn. We all did stupid things. Let’s not talk about Carl. Okay?” I turn toward Ellie, ensuring she is safely out of earshot. There’s nothing I can say. Raelynn’s right. While there were plenty of happy moments throughout the years, I should have known better than to believe Carl’s violent temper would quell over time. That I could make him happy. Keep him calm.

  “Move on, my friend. It’s time.” Raelynn swings back around to watch the game. Then she leans closer. “I’m not trying to be mean. I just know how it goes. It starts off as a cold look, a hurtful word or two. Soon you’re living in constant fear of criticism, attacks. You think you can handle a few broken mirrors and plates, but before you know it you’ve got broken bones too.”

  “He never broke my bones, Raelynn.”

  She lets out a long sigh and says, “He didn’t have to.”

  Raelynn keeps her eyes on me, making sure this sinks in. I respond as I always do, trying to defend Carl. “I just keep thinking he’ll wake up and realize what he’s doing to our family. To Ellie.” I look at my daughter and fight tears.

  “You think he’ll go to counseling?”

  “Probably not. He actually agreed last week. I even found someone neutral, a therapist I didn’t know. But Carl never showed up. I sat there, humiliated, with the counselor trying to fill the gaps.” I laugh it off. “But I have to try, Raelynn. I may not be able to save this marriage, but if the time comes to let it go, at least I’ll know I gave it my best shot.”

  “You’ve given it more than most would give.” She sighs. “I guarantee.”

  We’re less than a minute into the fourth quarter when a man in a suit and tie walks up to us. “Mrs. Salassi?”

  “Yes?” I question as much as confirm.

  He hands me a legal envelope and says, “You’ve been served.” His eyes offer apology. Then he leaves me sitting here, stunned. I pull open the envelope to find a petition for divorce.

  Leaning over me as I read, Raelynn shouts, “What the—” Then she tugs the papers from my hand. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Somehow her voice calls out louder than all the other noises in the gym. People turn and stare. Even Ellie looks up from her phone, embarrassed.

  From across the room, Jay watches the scene unfold. He leaves the group he’s been talking to and heads our way.

  I take the papers back from Raelynn and stuff them into the envelope, out of view.

  Jay approaches, smiling, teasing Raelynn. “Ladies, I’m sorry to tell you. Someone has filed a complaint about a disturbance of the peace over here. Some woman with crazy red hair and too many tattoos keeps making a bunch of noise. Know anything about that?”

  “Not now, Jay.” Raelynn jerks the envelope from my hands again, passing it to our friendly sheriff. “Look what this idiot has done now.” She turns back to me, growling, “I’m gonna kill him one day, Amanda, I swear.”

  “What is it, Mom? What happened?” Ellie moves in closer, trying to understand the commotion.

  Jay opens the papers, then gives us both a heartbreaking sigh of sympathy. I don’t answer Ellie. And I don’t respond to Jay. I am no longer here with either of them.

  Hello Sparrow,

  Something happened today. A new man came to visit. He paid The Man extra to leave us alone. “Privacy,” he said, and he locked the door. I thought he was like all the other men who come to visit. But he wasn’t. He whispered, “Is your name Sarah Broussard?”

  I don’t know what happened. I got scared. I sat there, looking at him.

  He asked me again, “Are you Sarah Broussard?”

  What if The Man sent this guy to test me? What if he was working for The Boss?

  I didn’t say a word. When he asked me the third time, I said, “My name is Holly.”

  He gave me a weird look, and then he told me what he wanted me to do. When he was finished, he left. I think it was a test.

  Hello Sparrow,

  Bridgette and The Man got into a bad fight today. He was throwing things at her and yelling. I hid in my room and prayed he wouldn’t hurt her. She was screaming and throwing things too. They were arguing over what to watch on TV. I don’t know how anybody could get that mad about TV.

  After that, Bridgette came into my room and was yelling at me. She was so mean.

  It made me think about something Mom told me. We were helping at a homeless shelter. One of the guys there didn’t want the blanket we gave him. He didn’t like the cot. He was mad about the pizza. He kept knocking things over and fussing. Pop took him outside because the other people were scared of him. I was too.

  When Pop came back, I asked why the guy was being so mean. We were only trying to help him. Pop said, “Maybe that’s why he’s mad. He knows he needs help, and he’s too proud to take it.”

  Then Mom put her arm around me and she said, “It’s hard to understand, Sarah. But if you try to pet a dog who has a broken leg, he might bite you, just to make sure you don’t hurt him worse.

  It’s 3:00 a.m., and I am jolted from sleep with another nightmare. The same one I’ve had countless times since Sarah went missing.

  I’m running through the dark alleyways of New Orleans, chasing Sarah. She’s ahead of me, just out of reach, and she’s racing away, laughing. The alley walls are filled with colorful metal bird-cages, like the one that held the fortune-teller’s sparrow.

  In the dream, I run for long stretches, calling out to her. “Wait!” I yell. “I’m coming!” I’m almost close enough to grab her when a man jumps from an alcove and attacks me with his knife. He stabs me again and again from behind. I fall to the ground, bleeding, and then I see his face. The man is Carl.

  Only this time, the dream has something new at the end. Carl stands over me, knife in hand. He says, “I never loved anybody.”

  Just as I take my last bre
ath, the cages swing open and thousands of sparrows fly free.

  Sunday, May 14, 2006

  Mother’s Day

  “Happy Mother’s Day!” Ellie wakes me with a card and a vase of fresh wildflowers.

  “Oh my goodness, Ellie. These are beautiful!” I ignore my allergic itch and give the blooms a deep inhale. “They smell so good!”

  “Got them in the pasture at the end of the road.” She smiles proudly. “Open the card.”

  I sit up and blink a few times to give my eyes a chance to wake up. Then I tear open the powder-pink envelope to find a handmade card. “Ellie! You drew this?”

  She nods, grinning broadly.

  The velvety-soft construction paper brings back a swarm of memories. “Gosh, this makes me think of all those art projects we used to do together.” Hours spent painting, coloring, glittering, never worrying one bit about the mess. “I’m so lucky I get to be your mom. Best thing about my life. No doubt.” I give her a gentle kiss on the forehead, and she accepts.

  On the front of the card she’s drawn a beautiful sketch of a feather. It’s dark blue and deep purple with tones of turquoise peeking through. “This is gorgeous,” I say, opening the folded paper to find another work of art inside. Here she’s inked a mother and a girl.

  “That’s us,” she says.

  “I can tell.” I offer a proud tilt of my head. The sketch really does resemble the two of us. Our arms are outstretched, depicted as wings, and we are soaring high above the rest of the world, which sits miniaturized below. We’re both smiling peacefully. A halo of light catches the colors of our feathers, almost as if we glow. “This is the most amazing drawing, Ellie. You have so much talent. Thank you. Best gift ever.”

  She beams. At the bottom of the card, she’s written: The emancipation of you and me.