Beyond the Carousel

by Bette Lee Crosby

  Wyattsville was a town. Richmond was a city; a place where transients came and went. A place where crimes were an everyday occurrence.

  Sure, Alexander Street was nothing like that, but it was on the far edge of Richmond, in an area where policemen were seldom needed. The nearest stationhouse was almost ten miles away. Jack didn’t work in a neighborhood of well-intentioned people; he worked downtown where anything could and sometimes did happen.

  Wyattsville is safer.

  Christine was up early the next morning. Jack was working second shift, so he didn’t have to be in until eleven o’clock. By the time he got up, all the kids had been dressed, fed and, with the exception of Frankie, shuffled out the door. Junior was at Donna’s house playing with Billy, and Chrissie was next door with Stacy.

  Here we have neighbors willing to lend a hand.

  Christine was standing at the sink with her back to the door when Jack came into the room. She turned, and he kissed her mouth.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he said.

  He was wearing his uniform. Although he was now a daddy with three children, Christine couldn’t help but notice how he still had the look of a young man. There were a few crinkles at the corners of his eyes, but his waist was still narrow, his shoulders broad and his smile filled with the mischief she’d loved from the start.

  “I’ve made my decision,” she said.

  “So soon?”

  She nodded. “I think you should go for it. It’s more money, it’s what you’ve been working for and the possibility of waiting another ten years…”

  She rattled off a list of reasons for him taking the job in Wyattsville but never mentioned the one that had been her deciding factor.

  Wyattsville is safer.

  Christine

  The thought of moving just about breaks my heart. Our friends are here; our children’s friends are here. We’ve been living on Alexander Street for over seven years. It’s not a lifetime, but it seems like a lifetime to me.

  I remember how happy we were the day we moved into this house. I thought we’d live here for the rest of our lives. I imagined our children growing up, moving off and us one day turning the spare bedroom into a sewing room or a place to sit and watch TV.

  A dozen or more times Jan and I have laughed about how it’s likely we’ll still be chatting across the back fence when we’re old and gray. Now none of those things are going to happen.

  I realize I could have told Jack I don’t want to move, and given how much he loves me he would have accepted my answer. But I love him too much to do that. Before we had any of this we had each other, and I’d like to believe that long after it’s all gone we’ll still have each other.

  Nothing in the entire world is more important to me than Jack and the children. When I feel the overwhelming sadness that will come when we leave this place, that’s what I have to remember.

  Moving to Wyattsville isn’t all bad; there are some advantages to it. One is that we’ll be closer to Granddaddy. Now that he’s getting on in years, it’s not good for him to be driving such long distances. And if you go by what Captain Hennessey says, violent crimes aren’t something that happen in Wyattsville. There’s a lot less on-the-job risk working in a place like that.

  Plus Jack will be doing what he’s wanted to do for a long time. I know he’ll make a good detective, because he has an analytical mind. He sorts things out and sees tiny little details nobody else bothers with. Wyattsville is lucky to be getting a man like him.

  The bottom line to all of this is that when it comes to my being happy here or Jack being safer on the job, it’s not even a choice. I’ll do for him what I know he’d do for me.

  Trading Places

  Jack waited until Thursday to tell Captain Hennessey of his decision. Seeing the office door open, he rapped on the wooden frame to get the captain’s attention.

  “Got a moment?” he asked.

  Hennessey looked up, waved Jack in and motioned for him to sit.

  “I take it you’ve made a decision?”

  Jack smiled and gave an affirmative nod. “Christine and I talked it over, and she’s okay with going to Wyattsville.”

  “Good. It’s a smart move.”

  Hennessy picked up the telephone and asked the stationhouse switchboard operator to get Captain Rogers on the phone. Minutes later Jack had an appointment to see the Wyattsville captain at eleven o’clock the following day. Hennessey briefed Jack on what to expect.

  “Be sure to tell him you worked the Bowers case,” he said, “and mention you’ve worked third watch. It shows you’re a team player.”

  As Jack stood to leave, Hennessey gave a rare smile and said, “Good luck.”

  “Thanks,” Jack replied. “I’m going to need it.”

  * * *

  Jack arrived in Wyattsville a full twenty minutes before his interview. He circled the stationhouse and parked his car in the back lot. He sat there for a few minutes remembering Captain Hennessey’s suggestions, then pulled two antacid tablets from his pocket and popped them into his mouth.

  The stationhouse was quiet compared to Richmond. A uniformed sergeant sat at the front desk.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “Mahoney,” Jack replied. “I have an appointment with Captain Rogers.”

  Captain Rogers was a fairly short man with a graying beard and a strong handshake. Just as Hennessey had warned, he fired off a string of pointed questions and expected quick answers.

  “We’ve got a small five-man squad,” he said, “so you’ll be working whatever comes along. Could be homicide, could be B and E. Any problem with that?”

  “No, sir, not at all.”

  Jack talked about the diversity of the cases he’d worked in Richmond.

  “I was first on the scene for the Bowers murder,” he said, “and did the collar on the Wellington case.”

  “Impressive.”

  Rogers leaned forward and continued the questions. After well over an hour, he pushed back in his chair and gave what could be considered a smile.

  “You’ve got good qualifications and Hennessey says you’re the best there is, so that’s enough for me. The job is yours if you want it.”

  * * *

  It was after six when Jack got home. The kids were already eating dinner, Junior and Chrissie at the table, Frankie in his highchair.

  Hearing Jack come through the door, Christine looked up but didn’t need to ask if he’d gotten the job. The answer was in the grin on his face. He circled the table, kissed each of the kids as he always did then bent and kissed Christine.

  “I got it,” he whispered.

  Once the children were in bed, Jack pulled two cold beers from the refrigerator; then he and Christine sat on the lawn chairs in the backyard. It was a balmy night, warm but not hot, the kind of weather that came before a sweltering summer.

  Christine wiggled her toes in the grass then leaned back in her chair. She knew her days of being here in this place she loved were numbered. Breathing in the faint scent of lavender and sage, she sighed.

  “I don’t remember it being this peaceful in Wyattsville.”

  “You were much younger,” Jack said. “Youth doesn’t look for peaceful. Youth looks for fun and excitement.”

  She laughed. “You’re right. The moment I was out the door, I jumped on my bicycle and headed for a friend’s house or the soda shop.”

  He stood and moved his chair closer to hers.

  “We’ll find a place as lovely as this in Wyattsville,” he said. “It’s a promise.”

  Christine tried not to let her sadness show through. She smiled, took his hand in hers and kissed his knuckles.

  “Thank you,” she whispered affectionately.

  “Next week I have to be in Wyattsville for indoctrination. Why don’t you and the kids come with me, and we’ll start looking for a house?”

  She scrunched her nose and shook her head. “It wouldn’t be fair to Junior. Wednesday is the last day
of school, and he’s looking forward to the class party.”

  Jack gave a nod of acceptance.

  “Anyway,” she said, “there’s a lot to do here. I have to call a realtor, get the house listed and start packing.”

  “Don’t worry about packing, I’ll help when I get back.”

  “I can handle the packing, but while you’re in Wyattsville why don’t you start looking around for a house?”

  It was a suggestion, not a question. The truth was that Christine had no desire to go from place to place looking at other houses, oohing and awing over a spacious room, high ceilings or fenced-in backyards. She knew it would be impossible for her to fall in love with another house when her heart was tied to this one.

  “Remember how long it took us to find this place?” she said. “If you pre-screened some places and narrowed it down to just a few houses, it would be easier to make a decision when we get there.”

  Jack agreed, and they began to discuss what he’d be looking for.

  “We need four bedrooms,” she said, “so we’ll have a place for your parents when they come to visit.”

  “And a good-size backyard,” Jack added.

  When they’d finished listing all the things they wanted and didn’t want, Christine knew they’d described a house exactly like theirs on a road that was a replica of Alexander Street.

  * * *

  On Friday, Christine called Emory.

  “Granddaddy, I’ve got good news.”

  Emory was as familiar with Christine’s ways as he’d been with Laura’s, and he could tell when bad news was being disguised as good.

  “It doesn’t sound like good news,” he said.

  “Oh, it is.” Christine hiked the register of her voice and pushed in the sound of happiness. “Jack is being promoted to a detective spot on the Wyattsville force. We’re moving back home.”

  As the words rolled off her tongue Christine couldn’t help thinking although Wyattsville was at one time home, it was no longer true. Alexander Street was home.

  “When?” Emory asked.

  She explained that Jack would be there the following week, but they wouldn’t be moving back until the first of July.

  “We might actually get there a few days earlier so we can find a place to stay until we settle on a house.”

  “You can stay here,” he replied. “I’ll bunk with Seth, and you can use my apartment.”

  “Granddaddy!” Christine said, laughing. “You have a one-bedroom apartment. We’ve got three kids and a big dog.”

  “I’m sure you can make do,” he replied, miffed. “People do what they’ve got to do. We lived in a third-floor cold water flat when your mama was a little girl, and she slept in an alcove.”

  Christine gave a sigh of resignation. “Okay. Hopefully we’ll find a house soon and not be in your way for too long.”

  “You won’t be in my way at all,” Emory said. “I’ll be happy to have you.

  That afternoon Christine tucked Frankie into his stroller; then she and Chrissie walked up and down Alexander Street telling friends and neighbors about their plans to move. She left Jan McGee for last.

  Over the years Jan had become her best friend. Their children had grown up together. She and Jan had exchanged recipes and whispered secret thoughts not shared with anyone else. As Christine explained about Jack’s transfer, tears cascaded down Jan’s face.

  “I’m going to miss you something fierce,” she said through her sobs.

  Trying her best not to cry, Christine said, “You and Ed can come to visit. Wyattsville is only a four-hour drive. Virginia is putting in a highway that cuts straight across the state. Then it’ll be even faster.”

  “It won’t be the same as having you next door.”

  “I know,” Christine echoed sadly.

  She pulled Jan into her arms and for a long while the two women stood there holding on to one another, perhaps counting the handful of times they had left to share moments such as this.

  * * *

  Christine dreaded the thought of telling the children about the move. They were happy here; they had their friends and their day-to-day routines. They didn’t like change any more than she did. In fact, they flat out resisted it. She could still recall the ruckus Junior raised when he had to give up his crib and move to a big boy bed. She waited until the last possible moment then picked the one positive she could find and focused on that.

  “We’re moving closer to G-G,” she said, making it sound like a special adventure.

  She braced for a tantrum or at the very least an argument and some serious pouting. It didn’t happen.

  Junior jumped around joyfully. “Yay, we’re going to see G-G!”

  Although Chrissie had a look of uncertainty stretched across her face, she followed his lead and let out a quiet, “Yay.”

  Surprised at their reactions, Christine said, “This is not just for a visit. We’re moving to Wyattsville and not coming back.”

  Such a statement didn’t dampen their enthusiasm one bit. In fact they couldn’t wait to get going. That same evening Junior insisted on calling Emory to ask if he could come for a sleepover.

  “Well, of course you can,” Emory replied. “I can’t wait for you to get here.”

  Such an answer made Junior all the more anxious to get going. The next morning he took the cardboard box Christine had set aside for blankets, filled it with toys and announced he was ready to go. Seeing him so anxious to leave a place she thought for sure he’d loved boggled Christine’s mind.

  “Aren’t you sad to be leaving your friends?” she asked.

  He gave an innocent shrug. “I’ll find new friends.”

  For a few moments she stood there looking at her six-year-old son and wishing she could have the same mindset. Unfortunately she didn’t.

  On the day a young couple returned to see the house for a second time, Christine felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach. The wife, who was quite obviously expecting, poked her head into cupboards, peeked out of windows, checked the faucets and then peppered Christine with questions about the schools and the neighborhood.

  “The schools are wonderful,” she said sadly, “and the neighbors will make you feel so welcome you’ll never want to leave.”

  Christine went on to tell of Donna’s boys and Jan’s daughter, Stacy, who was almost old enough to babysit. As painful as leaving was, she was determined to find comfort in the thought of another young family taking their place.

  That day Suzanne, the realtor, whispered in Christine’s ear that she was fairly certain they were going to make an offer.

  The week went by in a flurry of activity. Christine sorted, cleaned and packed almost every moment of every day. Staying busy was the only thing that could keep the sadness at bay. If she stopped to enjoy a cup of coffee or chat across the backyard fence, she’d start to remember all the things she’d be leaving behind and the tears would fall.

  By the time Jack returned from Wyattsville, all of the winter clothes, good china, knick-knacks and extra linens were already packed in boxes.

  “I’ve got good news,” she said glumly. “We’ve got an offer on the house.”

  “Did we get our asking price?”

  Still looking rather solemn, she shook her head then slowly gave way to a partial smile.

  “We got more than our asking price. Suzanne had two bids and one young couple really wanted the house, so they upped theirs.”

  Jack pulled Christine into his arms and danced her around. In the middle of a turn he stopped and asked, “Did they say when they want to close?”

  She smiled again. “They’re a cash buyer. She’s expecting a baby in August so they’d like to move in tomorrow, but I told them the best we could do is July first.”

  Jack spotted the boxes lined up against the wall. “Looks like you’re almost finished with the packing.”

  Hearing his daddy’s voice, Junior came thundering down the stairs.

  “Guess what, Daddy?” h
e shouted. Before there was time for an answer he added, “We’re moving to G-G’s house!”

  “Not house,” Christine corrected. “Apartment.” She gave a weary shrug and added, “I can’t imagine how the five of us are going to manage in a one-bedroom apartment, but Granddaddy insisted.”

  “We may not have to manage for long,” Jack said. “I found three really nice houses for you to look at.”

  He went on to explain one was standing empty and ready to move in, a second one would be available in early August and the last one on September first.

  “They’re all nice, but my favorite was the one that’s available now.”

  “I like the thought of sooner better than later,” Christine replied.

  “You’ll like the house too,” Jack said. “It’s older than the other two and needs a bit of fixing up, but it’s in the most beautiful section of town and very well built. It’s a two-story colonial with a wide center hall, four bedrooms and a great backyard. There’s a large oak in back of the house that would be perfect for hanging a swing.”

  Christine liked such a thought because it brought back her own childhood memories. “Where’s it located?”

  “About a block off of Broad on the west side of town.”

  “That is a nice area,” she said. “My grandparents lived over there before Granddaddy came to live with Mama and me.”

  “I spoke to the moving company today,” Jack said. “Once we’re ready, they’ll send a truck to pick up our stuff and store it until we’ve found a house. We can leave as soon as we’re ready.”

  Christine doubted she’d ever truly be ready to leave this place. She gave a weary sigh.

  “With your help I think we can finish up packing by the end of next week.”

  “Great,” Jack replied, not noticing the sadness in her eyes.

  Apartment Dwelling