by Joy Redmond
Abbie ran up to Iris. “Ganmudder, hold.”
Iris picked her up. “Grandmother will hold you, sweetie.”
Mandy went into the living room, sat on the couch and said, “Come on in, have a seat, and let’s get the speech over with. I’ve got work to do.”
Iris sat down, Abbie in her lap and she wiped tears as she said. “You know that your father and I won’t let our precious grandchildren do without. We’ll help with the household expenses, just as we always have. But there are rules. We—”
Mandy held up her hand. “I know the rules, Mother. Thy will be done. Stick the bit in my mouth. Pull the rein to the left, gee. Pull the rein to the right, haw. Slap the reins on my back, giddy up go. Pull back on the reins, whoa, Nellie.”
“I’ll take my leave. I don’t have to put up with your sarcasm.”
Mandy wanted to laugh as Iris stomped out of the house, her emotions in limbo.
Another month passed and Mandy did her best to not upset her parents. But she wondered how much longer she could be civil. Bitterness had taken a home inside of her very being and ate at her until everything and everyone around her caused her to hate. She hated herself for it, but she couldn’t help it, her soul was aching and her heart was crying out for solace.
Mandy had just gotten out of bed, fed the children, and they were watching cartoons when she heard Tony say, “Grandmother. Granddaddy. Come in. I’ll go get Mama.”
“Ah, shit. Now what?” She headed up the hallway, but Iris and Otis met her half way and motioned for her to go back to the bedroom. Iris’s eyes were red and swollen and Otis had a grave look on his face.
Here we go. What have I done this time? she wondered. She walked back to her bedroom, turned as her parents walked in and stood with her arms folded across her chest.
Iris wiped her eyes and Otis put his hands on Iris’s shoulders. “Amanda, we’re so sorry to have to bring you bad news. Our heart hurts for you and we’ll do all we can to comfort and help you get through this ordeal.” Her voice broke.
Otis stepped forward and put his arms around Mandy. “Your aunt Lou called.” He cleared his throat. “Your daddy had a heart attack.” He paused and looked back at Iris. “Your daddy passed away. They couldn’t save him. We’re so sorry.”
Mandy hit the floor.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Mandy felt herself being dragged from the depth of a long dark tunnel. She opened her eyes. A cold rag was on her face and Iris was looking intently at her.
“What happened?” she asked, as she sat up and looked around, not sure where she was.
Then she felt little hands on her right arm, and she vaguely heard frightened little voices, “Mama!”
Mandy gathered her children in her arms. “Mama is okay.” She felt groggy and light-headed.
Otis put his hands under her armpits and lifted her off the floor. “Come over here and sit down,” he said as he led her over to the rocker. “Iris, bring her a glass of water.”
Mandy drank the water, then her mind went back to the last words she remember hearing. “Daddy is dead,” she whispered. “He was just here last month. He said he was coming back.” She gasped for air, her soul mourning and her heart weeping, but no tears fell on her cheek.
Kati and Tony put their arms around Mandy’s neck. “We loved Pappaw,” they said in unison.
“I know. We all love him.” She looked around. “Where’s Abbie?”
Kati said, “I fixed her a bottle and put her on my bed. I didn’t want her to be scared.”
“What do you want us to do?” Iris asked gently.
“Just take my children. I’ll pack a bag and head up to Indianapolis.”
“Honey, your father and I will take you. That’s a long trip and I’m not sure you’re in any condition to drive.” Iris held onto Mandy’s hand.
“I can drive it. I need you and Dad to keep the kids. I guess I need to call Don and Lee,” she said, as she looked around the room as if she still wasn’t sure where she was or what was happening.
“Lou said she called your brothers, so you—”
“Aunt Lou called them? Why didn’t she call me?” she asked, her eyes wide and full of pain as she looked at Iris.
Iris wiped her eyes. “She said she was the one who came to the hospital and told you that your mother and little brother were dead, and she just couldn’t bring herself to tell you that your daddy was gone. She’s all to pieces too.”
“I’ve got to find Daddy’s address,” Mandy said in a daze.
“Honey, there will be so many people at his house. I just don’t know if there will be room for everybody. I want you to have a place to sleep,” Iris said. “I have the name and address of the funeral home where he’ll be, but he won’t be ready for viewing until Thursday.”
“You’re right, Mother. The house will be swarming with people and I really don’t want to be around a crowd. I think I need to take a couple days to come to terms with this. What is today?”
“It’s Tuesday,” Otis said.
“No, I meant what is the date?”
“It’s August the twentieth.”
Mandy looked toward the ceiling. “He missed your birthday by ten days, Mama. I hope you two are celebrating it in heaven. I hope Daddy made it to heaven.” Mandy’s voice broke.
Nobody said a word. Iris looked up and raised one eyebrow, but kept quiet.
“I’ll leave here early Thursday morning. I’ll bring the children to you on my way out of town,” Mandy said. “Just write down the address for me. Please.”
Iris walked over to the desk, found a piece of paper, wrote down the address, and handed it to Mandy. “Slip it into my purse,” Mandy said, pointing to the dresser. “You can go on home. I need to talk with my children.”
Iris and Otis left, and Mandy noticed for the first time how they were showing their age as they walked out the door. Iris’s walk was a little slower and her shoulders more bent. Otis seemed to have shrunk. She shook her head to clear the image, then gathered her children in the living room.
“Kids. I think we need to have a party. We’re going to celebrate Pappaw’s life. That’s what he’d want. No tears. Just laughter. Have I ever got some stories to tell about Pappaw. He was a character. I’ll go get a box of pictures. I’ll tell you all about my childhood with your blood grandparents and your uncles. Pictures paint a thousand words, but I’ll have plenty to say as we go through them.”
For the rest of the day, Mandy showed the children pictures and had a story to go with each of them. The kids laughed and Mandy laughed, and it was a celebration.
Memories that she had buried over the years flooded back into her mind. Her eyes sparkled as she regaled the children with stories about Daddy and the world she grew up in. They looked at the pictures and each one had a tale of a time in the past, and she shared them.
“Mama, how old was Pappaw?” Kati asked in a whisper.
“Well, he was born July, thirteenth, nineteen-twenty. This is nineteen-seventy-four, so that would make him fifty-four-years, one month and one week. That’s too young to die, but that ol' devil’s odometer had turned over a few times. He lived at least one-hundred and fifty-four years.”
“I’m going to his funeral,” Tony said.
“Tony, please. I want your last memory of Pappaw to be the last time you saw him sitting right here on this couch, telling his tall tales and you kids were laughing.” She stared into space, then whispered, “The way I used to laugh at him, back—way back there.”
“I don’t want to see Pappaw in a casket,” Kati said. “That’s too spooky. Me and Abbie will stay with Grandmother and Granddaddy. You just give him a kiss from us.”
“I’m going! You can’t make me stay here, Mama. It’s not right. I’m going to say my goodbyes in person,” Tony stomped his foot on the floor and looked directly at his mother.
“I won’t deny you that, Tony. I just think—”
“I’m going!” Tony said and headed to the fro
nt door. “I want to be by myself for a few minutes, so don’t anybody bother me.” They watched him leave and no one tried to stop him.
“Let’s go see what we can wrestle up for supper, Kati. Come on, Abbie,” Mandy said as she held out her hand. She and the girls went into the kitchen where they made tuna salad and when it was ready, Mandy called Tony.
After they had eaten, the children asked Mandy to tell them more stories about Pappaw, their Grandma who was in heaven, and about their uncle who died the same night. Mandy had told them very little about her childhood, and they seemed so enthused to hear about it. She sat them down and started as far back as she could remember.
Kati and Tony sat spellbound, as if they were reliving those years with their mother as she described how her mother cooked on a wood-burning stove, and how she sewed and read her Bible by the light of a kerosene lamp, and how she had to use an outhouse, and use pages from a catalogue to wipe with. Abbie fell asleep, but Kati and Tony kept prompting Mandy for more and more.
Mandy dove farther back into her memories and brought them to the surface, some she had forgotten and some she had wanted to keep buried. They spilled onto her tongue and out of her mouth and into the ears of the children who sat spellbound.
By ten o’clock, Mandy said, “I’m about talked out, kids. We need to get to bed. Tomorrow I’ve got to finish my insurance forms and take them to Dr. Morgan before I leave town and I’ve got get all the laundry done.”
After the children were in bed, Mandy stood in front of the mirror. “Nikko, you haven’t said a word. Daddy is dead. I can’t even cry. That’s not right. Why can’t I cry?’
Because I won’t let you cry. We’re never going to cry over daddy again. He killed us the day he signed those adoption papers and cut us in two. He let a tear slide that day, but it was his turn. You can go to the funeral but I’m not going.
Mandy felt Nikko fly away and she felt the loneliness of being one person.
She undressed, brushed her teeth, and was about to crawl into bed when the phone rang. She jumped. No, Don. Lee. Whichever one is calling. I can’t talk to you. I’ll fall apart. The phone rang three more times. With trembling hands, Mandy picked up the receiver. “Hello,” she managed to whisper.
“Mandy, I just heard about your daddy. I’m so sorry—”
“Billy? How did you find out?”
“Otis called me. He said you were going to drive to Indianapolis by yourself and he doesn’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t think you need to drive that Volkswagen that far by yourself. I can borrow Dad’s car. Will you let me drive you up there? I’m sober. I’ll stay sober.”
Mandy broke down. “Yes, Billy. I’d appreciate you taking me. Be at the house by seven o’clock Thursday morning. Tony is going with us, but Mother is going to keep Kati and Abbie.”
“Do you want me to come up to the house now? I’ll hold you and let you cry. You don’t need to be alone. I—”
“Yes, I do need to be alone. Thanks for the offer. I’ll see you Thursday.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then. But if you change your mind, just call.”
“I will.” Mandy dropped the receiver. Who would have thought? And he was sober, she thought with a smile. She pulled back the blanket and snuggled up to her pillow. Unbidden tears rolled down her face. Purple Angel, I really need you to lend me wings and let me fly to Beyond, just for tonight. Please come to me.
Mandy felt wings sprout, then she was souring through space, feeling the love that was emitted from Beyond. All of her being was at peace as her soul soared with her.
The next morning, she awoke with joy in her heart. She went about her day and packed a bag for the girls, then packed one for her and Tony. She was thankful Tony had a nice suit to wear, thanks to Iris. She had two pretty dresses and shoes to match, thanks to Iris. Mandy stopped a second and thought how she did owe Iris a lot of thanks for many things, even if she had to jump through hoops for them.
The next morning, Iris was at the house by six, and she took the girls with her. Billy was there by seven.
Mandy locked up the house, and as she was walking to the car, she felt herself leaving her body. She let herself go, wanting to soar through space and time until she returned to her home.
The next thing she remembered was walking into the funeral home. She stood in the back of the room and scanned the people.
Don. Lee. Mammaw. Pappaw. Aunts and uncles. Cousins. The first time we’ve all been together since Christmas, nineteen fifty-two. There’s nothing like a death to bring a family together. It’s only been twenty-two years.
As badly as Mandy’s heart was hurting, she couldn’t imagine the pain of her grandparents. They had to bury their first-born.
Move it! Go to your family, Nikko whispered. Yeah, I came. I’m here for you to lean on.
Mandy was trying to make her feet move, but she seemed to be glued to the floor and her legs felt heavy. She saw the pain on Lee’s face as he came toward her, scooped her into his arms, rested his head on her bosom and his body shook with sobs. Mandy couldn’t speak, she just held him. When he straightened his body, she reached up and wiped his tears with her hand.
She felt another pair of arms wrap around her and felt the tremble as Don hugged her. He didn’t cry, but she knew he was crying on the inside. Again, she had no words. She patted his arm and squeezed his hand.
Slowly, she made her way up the narrow aisle and stood by Mammaw. Mammaw looked up and Mandy couldn’t believe how she had aged. So many lines in her face— etched by the acid winds of time. She sat down and laid her head on Mammaw’s shoulder, wanting to sit in Mammaw’s lap, nestle her head between her large pillows, and listen to her sweet voice singing as she rocked her, as she had done when Mandy was a little girl. So long ago now.
She reached over and patted Pappaw’s arm, and noticed how old he looked too. None of them said anything. It was as if their touch was saying it all. As she sat by her grandparents, many cousins came up to her, hugged her, and offered condolences. She fought back tears, but the room was filled with anguish and sorrow and it lay heavily upon her heart.
After a few minutes, Mandy made her way back up the aisle and took a seat in the back of the room. She saw Cheryl standing by the coffin, staring down at Daddy, but she couldn’t make herself go talk to her, and she couldn’t look at Daddy. She wanted to crawl into a corner and curl up in the fetal position.
You can fly away, Nikko whispered. I’ll take over.
Everyone had left and Mandy was left alone in the quiet of the room. She sat for a few more seconds, then she stood. Her legs trembled as she walked up the aisle and stood in front of the coffin.
She looked down at the man she had worshiped all her life. She reached down and slipped her hand into his. The once warm, gentle hand was now as cold as ice and she winced. She ran her fingers through his hair. The once coal black, tight curly hair, was now gray and lay in gentle waves.
“Why, Daddy? You were in my life again for the past two years, now you up and died on me. Though we visited, I never got to ask you about so many things that I never understood. I never will. But I don’t think you had the answers. I loved you with all my heart. You broke my heart. You’re gone. Fly away. I’ll be okay.”
She bent and kissed his lips. “This is our final goodbye. Tell Mama and Evan that I love them. I’m not sure that you’ll be on the same plain in heaven, but maybe God will let you visit.” She gave his hand one last squeeze, then walked back up the aisle where Billy and Tony were waiting for her. She looked at Tony and her heart filled with love for this boy who was trying so valiant to be a man for her.
Tony took her hand. “Come on, Mama. Me and Billy went and found us a nice hotel room for the night. We’ll take care of you.”
Mandy held tightly to Tony’s hand as he led her.
When they got to the room, Mandy sat on the edge of one bed and Tony sat beside her. Billy sat down on the edge of the other bed. Tony said, “We unpacked and hung our clot
hes up. And Billy went and got some beer. But he’s not drunk!”
“I can smell, Tony. I know.”
“Now, Mandy, don’t get mad. I needed a couple beers to calm my nerves. Seeing you so upset, well, my guts are tied in knots.”
Mandy gave a slight laugh and said, “I couldn’t care less. As a matter of fact, I could use a beer too.”
Tony jumped off the bed, ran across the floor, reached under the bed that Billy was sitting on and pulled out two beers. He popped the top on one can. “Here you go, Mama.”
“Thank you, son. Now go get undressed, brush your teeth, and you can sleep with me tonight.”
Tony headed for the bathroom, and Mandy turned up the beer can and quickly drained it. When Tony was ready for bed, he turned back the cover and crawled into bed. Mandy went into the bathroom, undressed, slipped on a nightgown, brushed her teeth, and realized she was woozy as she made her way back to the bed.
She lay down and Tony snuggled next to her with his arm around her waist. “I love you, sweet son.” She drifted into sleep.
Mandy woke up the next morning, wondering if she had been dreaming. Was Daddy really dead?
She looked around the room, and reality hit her. It was going to be the darkest day of her life, since the day she had learned that Mama and Evan were dead.
Fly away, Nikko whispered. I’ll take care of things. Stay gone until we get back home.
Mandy didn’t hear a word that was said during the funeral. She vaguely remembered being at the gravesite. She caught a quick glimpse of a flag draped across the coffin. When the seven guns fired three times for the twenty-one gun salute, she jumped and buried her head on Billy’s chest.
She raised her head. People were in slow motion. Two men folded the flag in the shape of a triangle and handed it to Lee. Lee held the flag for a moment, then placed it in Cheryl’s lap. He stood erect, turned toward the coffin, raised his right arm and gave a salute. “Bye, Daddy,” he whispered.
Mandy and Nikko flew away.
