Wouldn’t Change a Thing

by Stacy Campbell

  I wait for Uncle Raymond to dial the sheriff before I sneak around the corner to place a call. I make sure no one sees me and dial.

  “Merry Christmas, Crittenden residence.”

  “Cousin Edwina, Mama’s missing.”

  “I’m not surprised after that trick Wilcox pulled last night. Where are you now?”

  “We came back to the church to see if she’s here. She’s wearing a gown and maybe some slippers. I looked in the closet and her coats are all there.”

  “Lord have mercy!”

  “Do you know where she might be?”

  Cousin Edwina fumbles with something and I hear her say, “Walt, let’s get up so we can help find Greta.”

  “Cousin Edwina, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I only wanted to find out if she went anywhere special when she was sad.”

  “We’re family. No way I’m gonna sit here and not help you find Greta. You said you all are at the church?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Let me see who else I can round up and I’ll call you back.”

  I place my phone back in my pocket before Aunt Mavis and Willa see me. Willa and McKenna come around the corner to comfort me while Uncle Ray dials someone.

  “Are you okay, Toni?” Willa asks.

  “No. I’ve been nothing but trouble for Mama since I came back. She was better off at GMH before I stirred up the pot and tried to bring her home.”

  “Stop blaming yourself. She longed for a reunion with us and she got it.”

  “At what cost?”

  “At the cost of you seeing what the family tried to shield both of us from so many years ago. Toni, Mama is sick. She will always be schizophrenic. Medicine, psychotherapy, and other things will help, but she will always need attention and constant care.”

  “She needs us, Willa.”

  “She needs a team of people to support her. You can’t do it alone.”

  “Let’s drive by the house again,” Uncle Raymond says. “She might have come back.”

  We pile into Don’s vehicle again and ride to the home-house in silence. Cousin Edwina’s call interrupts my train of thought.

  “I called a few people and they’re meeting at Golden Pantry. If you all will head this way, we can pull together a search party and divide up in parts of the county.”

  “Thanks, Edwina. I’ll let everyone know.”

  “Was that Edwina Crittenden?” Aunt Mavis asks.

  “Yes.”

  “What does she want?”

  I swallow hard and respond, “I called her and asked if she could help us find Mama.”

  Aunt Mavis’s irritation is evident. She scoots away from Uncle Raymond and looks out the window.

  “Doesn’t it make sense for someone to be home in case Mama comes back? Cousin Edwina has people meeting at Golden Pantry. Meet her there and I can stay at the house.”

  St. John’s is not far from our home. “Call me as soon as you hear something,” I say as I exit the SUV.

  Willa pulls on her door to come inside with me, but I shake my head. I want to be alone.

  Chapter 32

  Greta

  Nothing beats the feeling of Jesus giving you the answers you need. I knew something wasn’t right about having all that medication in my system. I kept praying to Jesus, asking him what he wanted me to do. When we were at the concert, he turned his back on me. I was being disobedient when I told him I would keep his commandments and didn’t. It is time I follow my heart and do the right thing. I’ve been lonely without Jesus and ’Halia. Come to think of it, they’ve been with me longer than I’ve been with my husband and children. Makes no sense for me to pretend it’s been an easy ride since I saw the girls again. This dream I had about them running to me and picking back up where we left off didn’t go so well.

  Toni probably wouldn’t have come to see me if her picture wasn’t in the paper. She won’t say it, but if that Lamonte character told her to come back to him tomorrow, I believe she’d go. It’s that way with the Williamson women. My mother, Rose, loved my daddy, Horace. Love wasn’t enough to keep them together. He left her because she was sick like I am. It’s bad enough the men leave, but it’s hard when friends leave you too.

  Mavis doesn’t know about this, but I want to tell it anyway. A couple days ago, I went to my follow-up visit. After the follow-up, we went to the community center for bingo. Well, it was supposed to be bingo. The regular lady who comes was sick, and this artsy, twenty-something girl was there. I’m talking a real kook. I had my heart set on playing bingo, and she goes to the chalkboard in the room and writes some things down. Little silly exercises like how many gumballs are in this jar? What was the best vacation you ever took? Who is the nicest person you’ve ever met? She told us to stick with her because she was warming us up for the exercise of the day. About fifteen minutes later, she went around the room and gave everyone a legal pad and pens. We were given twenty minutes to write freestyle. Poem, essay, short story, didn’t matter. We had twenty minutes to put our thoughts down on paper. Since Jesus and ’Halia hadn’t been to see me in a long time, I asked them to come get me for good. I promised Jesus I would follow his commandments, and I promised ’Halia I’d help her in the heavenly choir. I wrote those words so fast my heart was pounding. When I got to the end of my paper, I asked Jesus to give me a sign within seventy-two hours. If a mental facility can make me stay against my will for a seventy-two-hour hold, I figure Jesus can tell me what to do about this situation of being lonely. Of going in and out of GMH. Of being misunderstood by everybody.

  Wouldn’t you know it, he gave me all the signs and wonders in church. Christmas Eve service wasn’t ordinary this year. Truth be told, I had gotten tired of Wilcox since he stopped all the fire and brimstone. Teaching in the pulpit is all right, but it’s good to have a pastor to release the fire shut up in your bones. Pastor Smith was Jesus’s messenger. He gave me the answer I needed. From his choice of scripture, to his Legion reference, to the young lady singing my favorite song, it’s like Jesus timed everything perfectly. They’re not going to kick up a big fuss once I’m gone anyway.

  I knew last night was nothing but Jesus, since I’ve never heard anyone talk about the pharmaceutical companies in the pulpit. When Smith got revved up, I saw Toni write something on a piece of paper to Willa. I don’t know what she said, but they were acting like they didn’t empathize with my sickness. I know Willa doesn’t care much for me, but Toni shocked me going against what the pastor said. She’s been here from Atlanta long enough to see what those pills and the shots do to me. For her to sit there and not have compassion broke my heart but made me realize it’s time to let them go. This won’t be so hard. Won’t be hard at all.

  Good to know prayers are still answered. I found the perfect place to lay my burdens down. No one has to worry about me anymore. Maybe they’ll find me, maybe they won’t.

  Now that I’m following His commandments again, I’m waiting for Jesus and ’Halia to stop by and pick me up. I wonder if it will be in a chariot or a regular car. They should be able to see me where I am. I have my feet kicked up where Jesus told me to be, and I see birds flying overhead. I need something to cover me up to keep me warm, but I have to trust the two of them to do that for me, too.

  Chapter 33

  Willa texts a picture of the crowd gathered at Golden Pantry. I am moved by the number of people who stand with my family, who’ve given up their Christmas morning to search for Mama. I look at the picture closely and see Cousin Edwina and Ms. Creasy Taylor. My phone trills. Jordan’s calling. I let it go to voicemail, but she calls again. I answer with no holiday spirit.

  “Merry Christmas, bon ami!”

  I say nothing and contemplate hanging up. I have no spirit, no cheer.

  “Toni, what’s wrong?”

  The sniffles turn crying. I lean on the bed and smell where she lay a few hours ago. Her distinct body odor clings to the sheets and pillows.

  “Calm down and tell me what’s going on,
” Jordan says. I picture her glowing face and the baby bump. My chaos and confusion shouldn’t interrupt her holiday.

  “I can’t talk about it right now, Jordan.”

  “Toni, you slipped away from me once with this evasiveness. I am your friend and I love you. I don’t care about your past. I’m here for you. Talk to me.”

  “Mama’s missing.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “This morning.”

  She is silent. I wait for her to speak. “I can be there in two hours.”

  “No. It’s Christmas. I don’t want you traveling today. Stay where you are and let me keep you posted.”

  “Had she been taking her medication?”

  “Yes. We went to church last night and were ambushed with a sermon about mental illness. I’m positive Pastor Wilcox did it on purpose.”

  “On purpose, as in…?”

  “As in a younger pastor took the pulpit and said all the mentally ill need is God, not meds. Mama took to the message with so much joy and delight it frightened us.”

  “That’s terrible. What are you all planning to do about his antics?”

  “I want to find her. We’ll deal with him later.”

  “Does anyone suspect her whereabouts? Does she go to a particular place when she’s sad?”

  “A search party has gathered in town, and I’m waiting here in case she comes back. I’m trying not to panic or think the worst.”

  “My offer stands. I can be there in two hours.”

  “I’d love that, Jordan. If it’s no trouble.”

  “I’m on the road again. See you soon.”

  I put my coat on and walk the yard again. Maybe there is somewhere I haven’t explored. Secret spots and escape routes fill the yard. If she is sitting alone and gathering thoughts, I’d be pleased. I just want to see her again. I search the well again. The concrete top remains, but the bucket has been moved. I follow a trail in back of the well and find nothing. Antsy, I grab my keys, lock the house, and head to Golden Pantry. I’ll go crazy waiting around the house.

  The crowd huddles in mini groups at Golden Pantry. A bulky man disseminates information. He gives instructions to each group as he speaks with a bullhorn.

  Aunt Mavis flags me as I park. “Did she come back to the house?”

  “Not yet. I got tired of waiting there and decided to come here.”

  “Willa, Don, and McKenna joined a group of people on the Augusta Highway. Jack Morris is passing out directions to a few other locations in town she may have wandered off.”

  “Where are you going to search for her?” I ask.

  “I’m waiting for Jack to assign a new location.”

  “Aunt Mavis, may I speak to you in my car?”

  She follows me and we sit. “I’m going back to Atlanta after Mama’s found. No matter the outcome, I realize I don’t belong here. I’ve caused her nothing but trouble since I got here.”

  “She’s glad you’re here. If you leave, it will crush her.”

  “If I leave, she can get back to her old routine. I’ve upended her.”

  “You’ve only been here a few months. You need to give her at least a year to adjust to you being here for her. It’s a little bumpy, but you’ll get used to caring for her.”

  “This discharge has been a burden I don’t want to bear.”

  Aunt Mavis clenches and unclenches her fists. I flinch when she raises her hand, but she doesn’t hit me. Instead, she clutches the passenger door. “A burden you don’t want to bear? Who do you think has been bearing the burden for her care since you’ve been away?”

  “Aunt Mavis…”

  “Don’t Aunt Mavis me! Ray is right. You’ve used what we did as an excuse to be selfish and deny you have family. Bad enough you lived that close to us and never once tried to visit your own mother.”

  I hold her arm, but she frees herself from my grip and goes back to her mini group. She whispers something to Ray and he shakes his head. I start my engine so I can go back home and wait for Jordan to arrive. There’s time for me to pack and get on the road to Atlanta. My damage is done in Sparta.

  I don’t make it out of the parking lot before a commotion ensues. Aunt Mavis flags me again. “You can’t leave right now, Toni. They found Greta.”

  Chapter 34

  We arrive at Dobson’s Farm in Springfield. A massive, brick ranch sits in front of a fish pond and livestock holding pens. A sign in front of the farm advertises chickens, cows, goats and pigs for sale. A yellow storage unit with painted black bees and a large honey jar is nestled on the right side of the farm. The sign above the bees reads “The Honey Hole.” An ambulance whizzes past us and drives in back of the farm. I am vaguely familiar with this place. The greater mystery is how Mama got this far from where we live. On foot, this would have taken her at least two hours to walk.

  A man wielding a shovel over his shoulders approaches us. Although the five of us and Whiplash stand together, several people from the search drove to the farm as well.

  “That’s Andie Dobson,” Aunt Mavis whispers to us. “Been knowing us, especially your uncle, for years.”

  Mr. Dobson looks like he’s skipping Christmas too. His overalls and hat have mud stains. He pulls a pair of gloves from his pocket and slips them on. He takes Uncle Ray’s hand as a peace offering instead of a handshake.

  “Ray.”

  “Where is she, Andie?”

  He points in back of the house toward the holding pens. He leads us toward the pigs. I don’t want to see my mother’s dead body. I want to remember her as she was in the church.

  “How long has she…” My voice trails off as I address Mr. Dobson. Whiplash yips but isn’t barking as she usually does.

  “How long has she what?”

  Willa takes my hand and picks up the conversation. “We don’t want to see her dead.”

  Mr. Dobson scratches his head beneath his Dobson Farms cap. “She’s not dead. She’s being stubborn, that’s what she is.”

  I blink several times, unsure if I heard him correctly. “She’s not?”

  “Darndest thing. I did a run to Crawfordsville yesterday to deliver two cows and my last five pigs. Got a pretty penny for all of ’em. I woke up this morning to some noises but ignored it. My nephews double as my farm help, so I thought they were playing their radio and being silly. I tossed and turned because the noise wouldn’t stop. About forty minutes ago, I crept back to the hog troughs and there she was, laying in repose. I thought she was dead until I saw her chest rising and falling.” He turns to Uncle Ray. “I been knowing y’all for years, but she damned near scared the life outta me.” He wipes his forehead with his gloved hands.

  Uncle Ray moves closer. “Did she say anything?”

  “She said the Lord and somebody else was coming to pick her up after the legion got out of her body. Said something about keeping commandments. She babbled on and on from subject to subject but would never let me move her.”

  The five of us head back to the pens in time to see the paramedics lifting her body from a trough. She is kicking and screaming, saying Jesus and ’Halia spoke through the pastor. She says her demons will go into pigs and she will be free again. Some members of the search team gawk; others turn away.

  “Who’s riding with us?” the paramedic asks.

  Everyone looks at me. I climb in back of the ambulance with my mother. Although the paramedics cover her body with a sheet, the bottom of her gown shows. It is muddy and holds the stench of the animals, as do her dirty feet. She reaches for my hands, but I jerk back. Anger consumes me. I am angrier at the set-up at church instead of my mother, but the circumstances make it difficult to embrace her.

  The paramedics ask perfunctory questions as I watch her play an imaginary piano. She bangs the keys as the organist did at church. We arrive at Oconee Regional again. Same ER. Same situation. The rest of the family joins me. We wait for such a long time for them to call us back. A kind nurse brings us coffee and a few snacks from the ven
ding machine. I sip the coffee but pass on the food. Uncle Ray walks Whiplash in the parking lot while we wait for the news.

  The same nurse points us out to an on-call doctor, who joins us in the waiting area.

  “Family of Greta Williamson?”

  “Yes,” we say in unison.

  He flips a chart. “Mrs. Williamson is no stranger to us here. The inconsistency of her medication has caused another break. The good news is she has requested a voluntary admission to GMH.”

  Willa holds my hand. “Are you sure?”

  “She asked to speak to her daughters. That’s why I came down. She’s in room three-one-one.”

  Aunt Mavis, Don, and McKenna give us permission to go with their eyes. We take the elevator, afraid of what Mama will do or say. We enter her room and she is sedate. Her eyes are red, but she smiles at us.

  “Come sit down with me.” We sit on her bed and take her hands. “I’m out of apologies.”

  “Mama, it’s Christmas. We can talk about this another time. We’re glad you’re okay. You gave us a scare,” I say. For the first time since the ambulance ride, my heart softens toward her.

  “I’m sick like my mama and I’m not getting any better. I don’t want to keep putting you all through these changes.”

  Willa speaks for us now. “We all have to give it time.”

  “I’ve given it over thirty years, and look at me. I don’t have straight thoughts until I’m medicated.”

  “Things can change,” I say.

  “Not without me doing things to hurt everybody else. I had my reunion with you two. It’s time for me to go back to GMH.”

  “Mama, the home-house is ready and you still have the job lined up at Ray of Hope.”

  “If it’s for me, it’ll be there when I come out for good. For now, I need to go back. Andie almost had a heart attack when he saw me, and I can’t erase the memory of being upset about you taking my pills from my pocket.”

  “I’ve moved back to help you. Will you give it another shot with me?”