Saving Jake

by Sharon Sala

  She was in the middle of scrubbing at the stain when she flashed on the scene of finding Adam’s body and how hard she’d scrubbed before she’d gotten the blood off the carpet in her bedroom. The memory was jarring and, as she looked down at the sock and noticed the stain was gone, she wished she could wipe away the one from her memory as well.

  Then Bonnie came running into the house from doing her chores, bringing life and a cold gust of air with her, and Laurel turned loose of the sadness. “Mama, it’s not school tomorrow, right?”

  “That’s right. Tomorrow is Saturday, why?” Laurel asked.

  “I told Lavonne that I’d make her a new nest. I just wanted to make sure.”

  Laurel smiled. “So Lavonne is getting a new nest?”

  “Well, just new straw and grass and stuff like that. She likes the box nest on the wall. She said it keeps the cold air off her feet when she sleeps.”

  Laurel was used to listening to Bonnie’s chatter, but the mention of cold air reminded her that she did need to winterize the little coop, so she and Bonnie would both be hanging out with Lavonne tomorrow.

  * * *

  Jake spent a good portion of the evening dividing the food into smaller portions, saving some of it to eat for the next few days and putting the rest in the old chest freezer in the utility room. Tomorrow was Saturday, but he didn’t have a schedule. It was quite the luxury not to have to report for duty on base or clock in at some business. Having this much freedom was the trade-off for experiencing it alone. He couldn’t help but wish his dad were still here. There were so many things they could have done together—so many things Jake could have done for him. But such was life, and Jake figured he’d lived through being blown up for a reason, so he would figure it out on his own.

  He went to bed with a hopeful attitude and a full belly, and then he fell asleep and dreamed, and in the dream he bled and died.

  He woke up bathed in sweat and shaking, then glanced at the clock and groaned. Only 4:00 a.m. It was too early to stay up, but if he went back to bed, he’d never fall asleep. And he didn’t want to take any sleeping pills. They kept him locked into the nightmares longer. He thought of the three-layer coconut cake, put on a pair of sweatpants, and went barefoot to the kitchen. Turning on the kitchen light chased away the lingering memories of the nightmare. Cutting a big piece of the cake and pouring a glass of milk to go with it was powerful medicine.

  He sat in silence, savoring each bite and remembering the nights he’d done this with his mother. She’d had insomnia, and he’d had a hollow leg, as his daddy used to say. As a kid, Jake couldn’t remember ever being completely full, and a nighttime raid for a snack had been commonplace. He’d had the best conversations about his life at this table with her.

  He took a bite of cake and lifted it in a toast.

  “To you, my sweet mama. Thank you for the lessons.”

  After that, he went back to bed and slept without dreaming until sunlight coming through the cracks in the blinds woke him up.

  He spent the morning setting up his email and Wi-Fi and then caught up on waiting messages. Most of them were from buddies. Some were still in uniform while others, like him, were no longer in service.

  * * *

  Laurel had winterized the chicken coop by pushing some hay bales around the outside for windbreaks while Bonnie put fresh hay in Lavonne’s nest. The fact that they’d gathered another egg had been a huge source of excitement, and Bonnie had carried it into the house and put it in the refrigerator while Laurel finished up outside.

  She was on her way inside when she met Bonnie coming out. “Where are you going?” Laurel asked.

  “Just outside to play,” Bonnie said.

  “Okay, but stay close to the house.”

  If Laurel had paid more attention, she would have noticed Bonnie didn’t answer as she ran past her mother. She wanted to go visit Mr. Lorde’s son like she used to visit Mr. Lorde.

  * * *

  The day was cool, but the sky was clear. Jake had tired of being inside and got on his dad’s tractor and dragged up a couple of fallen trees from the woods. He was sawing up the logs into two-foot lengths before splitting them into firewood when he saw a shadow on the ground behind him. He turned around, a little surprised by the visitor, and quickly let off the throttle and killed the chain saw.

  Bonnie Payne was sitting on an upended bucket. “Hi!” she said when the engine stopped running.

  He grinned. “Hi. Does your mother know where you are?”

  “My mama lets me play in the creek.”

  “You are a ways from the creek,” Jake said.

  “I know, but I came to see your daddy all the time.”

  That surprised Jake a little. His dad had become a little cranky in his old age, but he must have had a soft spot for his youngest neighbor. “What did you and my dad do when you came to visit?”

  She shrugged. “Mostly, I just watched him work. I used to watch Daddy work, but that was before he made himself die.”

  Shock rolled through Jake so fast it made the hair rise on the back of his neck. “Your dad killed himself?”

  She nodded. “Mama had to clean up the bedroom afterward. Mama cleans houses for people in Blessings so she knows how to do it.”

  Jake was speechless. Laurel must have been the one to find him. Now he understood what the cold vibe he felt from her was all about.

  “I’m sorry,” Jake said.

  Bonnie sighed. “Me too.”

  Jake glanced at the time. He didn’t want her in trouble, and he didn’t want to be in trouble with Laurel, either. “I think you need to get back before your mother starts to worry, don’t you?”

  Bonnie shrugged and then launched herself off the stump. “Mr. Lorde used to give me a treat before I left.”

  “What did he give you?” Jake asked.

  She pointed toward the orchard. “Sometimes an apple from those trees.”

  “It’s too late for apples now. They’re all gone. How about a stick of gum?” he asked, as he pulled a pack from his pocket.

  She held out her hand. “Yes, please.”

  He let her pull a stick from the pack and then waited while she peeled off the paper and popped it in her mouth. She handed him the wrapper and waved as she ran toward the creek.

  He watched until she was completely out of sight and then wondered if he should call and let Laurel know she was here, only to realize he didn’t know her number.

  He started the chain saw and resumed what he’d been doing, but he couldn’t get the image of Laurel finding her husband’s body out of his head, imagining her shock and the horror of cleaning up blood from the bed where they’d slept—imagining the grief and, eventually, her anger—because anger always followed death for the ones who’d been left behind.

  * * *

  Laurel was just about to go down to the creek to check on Bonnie when she saw her emerge from the tree line and come skipping toward the house. Bonnie saw her mother and waved.

  Laurel waved back and then continued on her way to the cellar to store the last jars of jelly she’d made the other day. When she came up, she walked toward the chicken coop where Bonnie was playing with Lavonne. She could hear Bonnie talking to the hen as if she were one of her school friends. If life had been different, Bonnie would have had a sibling by now—someone else to play with besides a chicken. Then Laurel saw Bonnie was chewing gum and frowned. She never bought gum because it was bad for her teeth.

  “Bonnie, where did you get that gum?” she asked.

  “From Mr. Lorde.”

  Laurel’s heart skipped a beat, and when she spoke, panic tinged her voice. “You went all the way up to the Lorde property?”

  Bonnie looked up then nodded. “Yes, you always let me go see Mr. Lorde.”

  Laurel’s voice rose an octave. “But he’s not there anymore
, and his son is. I didn’t tell you it was okay to go there.”

  Bonnie was confused and it showed. “But, Mama, he’s nice just like Mr. Lorde, and he’s like my daddy.”

  “He’s nothing like your father, and you don’t know anything about him. I’m telling you now, you are not allowed to do that again, do you hear me?”

  Bonnie’s chin trembled and her eyes welled with tears. “He’s lonesome, Mama. If I can’t go visit, who will be his friend?”

  “He has his own friends. You do not go back to that place again. Promise me.”

  Tears rolled as her shoulders slumped. “I promise,” she whispered, then took the gum out of her mouth, dug a little hole with her fingers, and buried it as solemnly as if she’d buried the man who’d given it to her.

  “Come into the house now,” Laurel said. “I’ll make lunch.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Bonnie said.

  “Come into the house anyway,” Laurel said and held out her hand.

  Bonnie got up, but wouldn’t hold her mother’s hand and walked into the trailer house on her own. Even though Laurel knew she’d hurt Bonnie’s feelings, she was convinced she was in the right. She followed her daughter inside, locking the door behind her as she went.

  * * *

  By nighttime, Laurel just assumed Bonnie had gotten past her upset. When she began helping her get ready for bed, her usual chatter was absent. A little surprised that she was still reacting to the scolding she’d received, after several minutes of trying to engage her in conversation, it became obvious that no amount of talking was going to help.

  Satisfied that it would pass, Laurel sat down on the side of the bed to hear Bonnie’s prayers, but instead of saying them, she stopped and looked up. “I can do this by myself, Mama.”

  Laurel blinked. Bonnie waited.

  The rejection was both unexpected and shocking. Laurel got up and walked out of the room on shaky legs, but instead of closing the door all the way, she left it ajar, then stood in the hall to listen.

  “God bless Mama, and God bless Daddy, wherever he is. God bless Lavonne because she’s my best friend, and God bless Mr. Lorde. Mama doesn’t like him, so it’s up to you, God. Please don’t let him be sad that I can’t go visit anymore. Amen.”

  Laurel reeled like she’d been slapped, then went into her room and closed the door. She stood in the middle of the room while the pain in her chest grew with every breath.

  Yes, she knew Jake, but her daughter did not, and yet Bonnie’s reaction to meeting him had been an instant attraction. Maybe it had to do with missing her father. Maybe it had to do with missing Mr. Lorde. In fairness to Bonnie, Laurel had never had a question of worrying about her daughter visiting the old man, but she’d taken an instant distrust to the son with no reason other than Jake had been discharged from the army just like Adam. She was afraid of Jake because, in the end, she’d been afraid of Adam, too.

  She sank onto the side of her bed and then clasped her hands in her lap and closed her eyes. She could still see the blood splatter on the wall, the blood-soaked bed and bedclothes, and the pool of blood on the floor beside her house shoes. She’d seen all that, but she wouldn’t look at what he’d done to himself. The pain inside her had been so severe she’d been unable to cry. Instead, she’d called the police, sat down on the front steps to await their arrival, and thanked God Bonnie was spending the night at her grandparents.

  Looking back, she supposed it was why Adam had chosen that night to do it, knowing Bonnie would be gone. Her hands were shaking from the memories. She had so many unanswered questions. She felt so betrayed by how it had happened. Why the hell had he done it in their house—in their bedroom—in the bed where they’d made Bonnie? Why had he defiled that, too?

  It had taken every spare penny she had to buy another bed and mattress, repaint the walls, and scrub the carpet. If she’d had the money, she would have moved them both out of this trailer and left all the bad times behind. But that was not an option.

  She had to accept that what she’d gone through had damaged her in much the same way war had damaged him. She didn’t trust that life wouldn’t kick her again when she was down. She didn’t trust Jacob Lorde because he reminded her of Adam. She was so tired of being afraid. Why was this happening again, just when she was beginning to get a handle on making the best of their situation? And what was she going to do about Bonnie? Laurel’s fears had driven the first wedge between their mother-daughter relationship, and it felt like a knife in the heart.

  Finally, she got up and went through the house to lock up and turn off the lights. She peeked in Bonnie’s room and saw her sleeping with her panda bear again. Probably because Bonnie felt like she’d been bad like Panda was bad. Laurel sighed. She had to find a way to fix this.

  * * *

  It threatened rain all Sunday. Jake thought about going to church but was uneasy he would get cornered in the congregation, so he checked email, answered a few messages, paid a few bills online, and then there was nothing left to do.

  When his dad died, he hadn’t stayed long enough after the funeral to deal with any of his father’s belongings, and while he wasn’t looking forward to it, he decided to begin with his dad’s clothing.

  The room was cold, so he left the door open and moved to the dresser and started emptying the drawers of his dad’s socks and underwear. The stack of neatly folded handkerchiefs brought a lump to his throat. His dad never left the house without one in his pocket. He took a deep breath and put them on the bed with the rest of his dad’s things.

  And so it went until the dresser and chest of drawers were empty and the things packed away. He took the clothes hanging in the closet out on hangers, laying them across the foot of the bed, and then stacked the boxes of shoes nearby. Once he’d finished, he made a call to a church he knew that kept a charity room full of clothing for people in need. They were thrilled with the donation and agreed to a pickup date.

  When it came time to eat, he took out some of the food the ladies had brought him. There was so much, he thought about sharing it with Laurel and Bonnie. But again, reminded himself he didn’t know her number and wasn’t sure where she lived, even less sure of a positive reception. So he watched football, ate some more, and fell asleep in his dad’s recliner.

  All of a sudden, a clap of thunder came so loud and close that it rattled the windows. Jake woke abruptly, his heart pounding so hard he couldn’t think. He leaped out of the chair, looking frantically for his weapon and a place to take cover. He was running through the living room when he stubbed his toe on a leg of the sofa. It was the pain that pulled him out of the hallucination. It wasn’t sand beneath his feet; it was a hardwood floor, and he wasn’t somewhere outside in the desert. He was in a house—his house—and there was rain blowing against the windows.

  “Oh lord,” he said softly.

  What he’d heard was weather, not war. The rain had finally arrived.

  Still shaken from what had happened, he went from room to room in an aimless manner, looking for answers to questions he had yet to pose. This was home. He’d grown up here, but the people who’d made it special were gone. When he was younger, he’d always imagined working somewhere around Blessings and raising his own family here. He’d expected to grow old in this house, but not alone. The way he was now, there was a very good chance no one would want him. Sometimes he didn’t even want himself.

  He walked through the kitchen, then out onto the back porch to face the wind. When the rain blew under the porch roof and onto his legs, he didn’t move away. The chill air was refreshing, and the bad dream was fading. He shoved both hands through his hair and tried not to feel sorry for himself. He was alive, for which he was grateful.

  He glanced toward the barn to the ricks of wood he’d cut. It wasn’t enough for the entire winter, and as soon as everything dried up, he’d have to cut some more.

  Thi
nking of the wood made him think of Bonnie Payne, which made him think of Laurel. Such a pretty face, but with sad eyes and lips too tightly clenched. Maybe she was afraid to open them too wide for fear some of that sadness would come out in a scream.

  He sighed, shoved his hands in his pockets, and went back in the house. Her husband—a veteran like him—had killed himself. He could not imagine the horror of walking in on something like that. So what if she seemed a little cold toward him? He represented everything she’d lost.

  Another clap of thunder sounded, making him flinch. Angry with his inability to control his emotions, he strode back into the living room and turned on the television. Maybe if it was loud enough, it would drown out the thunder and the memories.

  And Sunday passed.

  Chapter 4

  Laurel had overslept and was racing around trying to play catch-up and get Bonnie ready in time to catch the bus. Bonnie was dragging her heels, clinging to Laurel and whining about not feeling good and wanting to stay home. Laurel felt certain the only thing wrong with Bonnie was that she was upset about being angry and didn’t know how to resolve it. Bonnie’s mother was her touchstone, and Laurel’d never failed her before, but Laurel knew she’d failed her now, and she had to fix it.

  “I’m sorry you are upset with me,” Laurel said.

  Bonnie ducked her head.

  “It’s okay,” Laurel said. “I need to say sorry for yelling at you. I reacted without thinking it through, okay?”

  Bonnie shrugged.

  “You know how much I love you, right?”

  Bonnie nodded.

  “And everything I do is done to keep you safe and happy. I promise I will never yell at you again, okay?”

  Bonnie nodded.

  “Can I have a hug?” Laurel asked.

  Bonnie threw her arms around her mother’s neck and started crying.

  “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay,” Laurel said as she hugged and kissed her. She held her until she’d calmed down and then kissed her one more time. “So how about getting the rest of your stuff on, and let’s get up the road to catch that bus, okay?”