PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “Talk to me, Tru.”

  I straightened up and looked his way. In the spirit of all things that was once great between us, I started babbling and babbling, spilling my guts about the Pacachi River and the coy Ms. Vee and how Mama said I was aiming for a boat load of bad luck any time now what with the visitations coming, and about lots and lots of things in between. I’d talked so much that my throat went dry and scratchy as sand paper. Finally I paused for a breath and Jayden jumped in.

  “So that’s why you’re really going to Butler County. To find out for yourself about that bad luck.”

  “I have to know for sure, Jay. I mean, it’ll be the reason I help Vee . . . or not.”

  “But, what if she keeps coming to you anyway? Even if you refuse to try and locate her family?”

  “I—I don’t know. I honestly don’t. That’s why I have to go today.”

  Jayden tipped his neck in agreement. That’s what made him so special. He got me. He got everything. I watched him as he watched the road. Those dark green eyes. Mama said they had scoundrel written all over ‘em. Yet from where I sat they looked like perfectly fine, perfectly wonderful eyes. I blinked and turned away. If I wasn’t careful I mighta started wishing . . . wishing that I didn’t have to time travel again, and come back. To now. To where Ridley was somewhere waiting for me.

  #

  The exterior of the nursing home was covered over in a thick layer of sweeping, twirling spider vines that crept up the wall as though they could defy gravity, so murky you could barely see the windows behind them. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting. Maybe some perky flower boxes lined in sunny yellow daisies. Maybe an American flag flapping off a tall metal pole in the center of a neatly mowed lawn. I hesitated at the door, pausing for who knows what. Jayden kept tight in my shadow, edging me along. If the Magical Knowing was trying to pass some sort of warning my way, I ignored it, twisting the door handle and stepping into the small lobby. It smelled of ammonia which tickled my nose and summoned a sneeze.

  “Gesundheit,” Jayden whispered.

  A woman sitting at a huge mahogany-colored desk looked up and took stock of me, real quick, then she looked down again. I was expecting she might smile, offer me a friendly welcome, inquire if I needed some help, as though she was there for the explicit purpose of making my life easier.

  Not so.

  Off to the right a set of French style double doors was propped open by two cherry-red milk crates loaded down with books. Beyond that was a room dimly washed in a sickly gray light filtering in from beneath a row of dusty window shades. Old people of all shapes and sizes was crumpled over in chairs with and without wheels. A big TV hovered in one corner. It was blaring out loud like one of those carnival barkers, yet nobody seemed to notice.

  “Is there something I can do for you?” The woman at the desk finally asked, with a tone in her voice that said she’d sucked a dozen fresh lemons for breakfast. Her face was round and bright red which made the whites of her eyes appear like they was about to pop clear out of her skull. Her bright silver hair was wrapped up snug in a librarian bun and she was wearing a knitted sweater set, the kind that hangs off your shoulders from a small chain attached to the top buttons.

  “Yes, I, uh, I’m here to visit my Aunt. Aunt Joan.”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “An appointment? No, I didn’t know I needed one.” I stepped back. Felt Jayden’s breath against the nape of my neck. The lady squinted. I saw her trying to make sense of my hair for a minute or two before she gave up.

  “We request advance notice so that we can be sure our residents are ready to receive company.” From the looks of things I thought the residents seemed about ready to receive oxygen.

  “Well, I didn’t know. I was sorta hoping to surprise her.”

  She heaved a sigh that said “We don’t do surprises here, you strange, annoying girl, now be gone with you, and take that young man-child attached to your back with you.”

  “We’ve come so far,” I said. Now I was pleading as if she was the gatekeeper to heaven and there wasn’t a shot of me meeting Jesus without her crepe-papered hand waving me thorough.

  “Well . . . ” she said, her voice all stretched out weighing the options. Banish me or present the key to the kingdom. Just then Jayden floated out from behind me and beamed down at her. He used his cocoa-butter, velvety-lined words that spilled like melted sugar off his lips.

  “I hope you don’t mind my asking, but has anyone ever told you that you look exactly like that actress, oh, what’s her name? Katherine Hepburn, I think.”

  “It has been mentioned a time or two . . . ” At once the lady wielded a smile.

  “See that? It’s uncanny, really. Say, if it isn’t too much trouble maybe you could see if Aunt Joan is available? We would so appreciate it.” Jayden dropped a small wink at the end of his request.

  The library lady gave up a greased smile to prove that she appreciated his efforts. She wasn’t nearly as ornery with the rooster as with the hen. Mama said lots of women was like that—said it had to do with their own petty jealousies ‘round females who was more attractive than they was. I highly doubted this woman had any solid, good reason to be envious of me, especially without my God-given hair color. Still, Mama did have a knack for spotting the frailties of human nature as they was.

  “Well then, I suppose it would be alright. Now what is Joan’s last name? We have several Joans here.”

  Jayden turned and nudged me with the top of his shoulder, giving me back the lead.

  “McKaye,” I said.

  The library lady lowered her neck and gazed at a small computer screen. “Hmm. That doesn’t ring a bell, I’m afraid.” Her bony fingers began clacking away on the keyboard. “No. I’m sorry. There’s no Joan McKaye here.”

  I felt the back of my knees starting to bubble up with sweat. “How about Kaye then? Like without the MC?”

  After a minute or two she shook her head, real slow like she was scared her bun might unravel. “No ma’am. No Joan Kaye, either, I’m afraid.”

  “I don’t understand. I know this is the place. It’s right here in my mother’s address book, see?” I held it up to the woman’s face.

  Ms. Katharine Hepburn adjusted her glasses. “Perhaps she was moved to another location?”

  “No!” I said, because right then more than anything in the world, I didn’t want to be wrong, and even more than that, I didn’t want this library lady to be right. Jayden reached for my wrist and tugged me off to the far side of the room, near the double French style doors. He talked low and into the side of my face. His breath was both minty and stale at once.

  “Maybe she doesn’t live here anymore, Tru. Isn’t that a possibility?”

  “But then we’ve come all this way for nothing.”

  Jayden tipped his head and stared into the center of my eyes. “Not for nothing, really. We got to spend some time together. Us two. Like we used to.”

  It was just like Jayden to make me forget and remember precisely who I was.

  I was Truly Ann Kaye. Girl-Next-Door.

  I was Ridley’s bug.

  Ridley’s bug, set to depart for my own happily-ever after in a land a bazillion miles from home. To leave Mama with her newest scoundrel in sheep’s clothing. Nowhere in this plan was there time for kicking ‘round an old romance. One that was and wasn’t real at the same time.

  “I guess we should head back.” I started for the door, my shoulders and chin hung in defeat when a crashing sound broke through the air. Something or someone had fallen, and the entire room of old folks erupted in a hearty commotion.

  One nurse called over to another. “It’s Mrs. Redmond. She’s tipped out of her chair again.”

  Her voice was relatively calm in spite of all the hustling.

  Several orderlies flocked to the side of the woman on the floor. Mrs. Redmond. I squinted into the fray. The hair on my neck snapped at attention. The Magical Knowing was chiming in.
>
  “That’s her. That’s Aunt Joan.”

  Jayden turned. “You’re kidding?”

  I directed my voice back at the receptionist. “That lady who fell. Mrs. Redmond. Joan Redmond. That’s her. I reckon she musta been married once. I don’t know. But that’s my aunt. I know it is. Please. Can we go see her? We won’t stay for long.”

  Jayden extracted another salty sly grin and leveled it in her direction. She expelled a sigh. “Go on in. But if anyone asks, you did so of your own accord.”

  In that moment, as we started away, the Magical Knowing now drawing pin pricks at the base of my spine. I knew it. Here we was at a beginning of something. Something big.

  Or it might have been an ending. Thing was - I couldn’t be certain which.

  Nine

  I wore a sloppy ole’ smirk as we came upon her. She was a frail wafer of a biddy, her cheeks all pinched. Her hair a fine layer of fuzz. Still, I saw her in my mind, how she was way back when her belly was round and jiggly and her eyes wasn’t so sunk back in their sockets. Passing out cookies to me from a giant ceramic jar shaped like an elephant. Goofy grin smeared ear to ear. Telling me what a sweet child I was.

  Aunt Joan was propped upright again by the time we reached her side.

  I felt inclined toward hugging her though I held back. “Aunt Joan? It’s me. Truly Ann Kaye. Mari’s girl. Do you remember me?”

  Aunt Joan looked right past me and over at Jayden. “Who are you? You got some reason for being here besides to stand there looking pretty?”

  Before Jayden could reply I spoke up again. “He’s with me. That’s Jayden. We’re friends.”

  “Well, I don’t know nothing about no friends and nothing about no Mari neither. But if ya’ll could help me find my daughter, I’d be most obliged.”

  My heart felt weighted down. I angled myself so that I was directly in front of her and then lowered my body so that we was eye level. “Aunt Joan, you mean to say you don’t remember my Mama? Marilyn McKaye?”

  In that instant I saw her brow twitch. Her gaze tightened on my face. The muscles eased and her mouth leaned into a grin. “Why a ‘course I know Marilyn. You mean to tell me you’re Marilyn’s child?”

  “Yes! I am. I’m Truly Kaye. You put us up for some time when I was a little girl, remember? I’m right sorry we haven’t seen fit to visit much since then, but I’m here now and I was hoping we could, I dunno, sit and talk over some things.”

  Aunt Joan wasn’t much for attention spans ‘cause smack dab in the middle of my little speech she turned away and focused her attention on Jayden, leading her question his way.

  “You gonna marry this fine young woman?”

  Jayden smiled. “She’s too smart to have anything like that to do with me.”

  I reached for a chair, pulled it over and eased into it. There wasn’t gonna be no other way to do this than to barrel straight ahead. “You see, Aunt Joan, I’ve been wondering a bit about the—uh—the Magical Knowing. Mama said it was in your family, too. She said you was the one who told her about the visitations and how they was bad luck and all.”

  Aunt Joan shifted in her chair. Her fingers was like fine braided twine and she studied them carefully for a minute. “My, oh my. It’s been an awful long time since I gave any thought to the Magical Knowing. And my mind, well it ain’t near what it used to be. That’s for sure. But I will say this. There ain’t nothing wrong with a visitation if you respect the messages. Nothing wrong at all.”

  “Well ain’t that a whole mess of relief right there! Whew!” I turned for a quick read of Jayden who was trying his darndest to keep up. “Anyhow, I’m right glad ‘cause, you see, I been hearing from this woman, I mean, she’s been coming to me in my sleep and such.”

  Aunt Joan nodded. “The Knowing ain’t happened to me in years and years. Starts to wane some as age creeps up.” She began rocking in her seat, though I wasn’t sure if she realized the chair wasn’t of the rocking variety. “Yep. No harm in a visitation from the afterlife—long as it ain’t from kin.”

  “From kin? Why is that?”

  Aunt Joan turned and looked out the bank of windows behind her. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen my Lilly. I don’t reckon ya’ll have happened on her, have you?”

  Her Lilly? As far as I knew, Aunt Joan never had any kids of her own. In that instant I feared that this wasn’t actually her. Maybe this was simply some kooky ole’ crank having some fun with a couple of kids from out of town.

  “No. I’m sorry, Aunt Joan. I didn’t even know you had a daughter.”

  She spun ‘round again and slipped her hand inside the deep mouth of an embroidered bag set up next to her chair. Seconds later she flashed a photo before my eyes. Jayden slid over to have a peek. The girl in the picture was no more than a year old, maybe less. A strawberry blonde, staring shyly into the lens. “My lovely Lilly. Had to leave her go early on. Left her with a family who could raise her up right better than I could. Then, what do ya know? She comes back to me years later. And we got on real good. But after a bit she up and vanished. I ain’t seen her since. Just ain’t right.”

  I took the photo from her grip and stared into the frame.

  The tingling in my shoulders started up for no apparent reason and I shrugged it away. “She’s a real cute little thing.”

  Aunt Joan took the picture and returned it to her bag. “She’s all growed up now. Shame how that happens so dang fast.”

  Jayden coughed and shuffled in place. He was surely growing bored of all this reminiscing. I thought it best we got on.

  “Aunt Joan, you said if a visitation is from kin it’s bad. Why is that?”

  “’Cause usually a visitation from kin means a date with death.”

  Right then the Magical Knowing made me stand and search for my breath. Don’t know why. Just happened that way sometimes.

  I thanked Aunt Joan for sparing us her time and promised her that I’d be ‘round to see her again right soon.

  On the drive back Jayden was quieter than before. I knew it was ‘cause things was ending. This day. Us. And I knew more than anything he was itching to tell me again what a jerk he thought Ridley was.

  So I thanked him for being my ride and for being my friend and it got so that the air inside the car got real stale from all my gratitude. Before long he had to say it.

  “Really, Tru, it wasn’t such a big deal. I mean, you know I would do anything for you. Come on.”

  “Anyhow if I can ever return the favor. I mean—do something special for you . . . ”

  Jayden kept his eyes on the road. “You can stay.”

  I edged over to be closer to him. Spoke from the softest place in my throat. “There’s no exceptional life here for me, Jay. I mean, Mama has Calvin now and, and Ridley, he really is fixing to take good care of me. Show me a brand new way of living. Don’t you want that for me, Jay?”

  The skin around Jayden’s mouth tightened. His jaw seemed tense as it was that night on Skinners Bridge.

  “I want the best for you, Truly. You deserve nothing less. But that dude, he ain’t it.”

  I fiddled with the ends of my hair where the purple was lightest. I could almost see the blonde that lay hidden beneath. Evidence of the me that had once waited for Jayden to ask me to be his girl.

  I could have argued and tussled the rest of the way, till we was each blue in the gills from trying to make a point.

  But it seemed enough had happened today. And most of it was real good.

  Seemed a waste to tarnish it all. Like a pretty little memory that deserved to stay that way forever.

  #

  When Calvin brought Mama home late on Sunday I had no idea he was fixing on sticking ‘round for good.

  But there they was, two gleeful peas in a pod, with Mama sporting a brand new afterglow.

  “We had us the time of our lives, Truly,” she gushed and then to be sure I was paying attention she jutted her left hand under my nose. “And that ain’t all.”


  My mother, Mari Kaye, the long-time Other Woman, was carrying a shiny gold band on her ring finger. I grabbed hold of her hand. Wasn’t sure if she was trembling or I was.

  “Mama, does this mean what I think it does?”

  “That’s right, baby girl! Calvin here is your brand new daddy! We got hitched! Can you get over that? I mean, picture it. Your mama finally becoming an honest married woman.”

  Calvin DuPont shoved his fists down into the front pockets of his trousers. He rocked on his heels and spat me a satisfied wink.

  I dropped Mama’s hand like a hot potato. “Well then, I reckon congratulations and all that.”

  My tone surely wasn’t lined up in place with my words, and Mama took notice straight away.

  “Ain’t ya’ happy for your ole’ mama, Tru?”

  “Course I am, Mama. It’s just, I wasn’t expecting something like this, so quick out the gate I guess.”

  My mother took herself a stroll through the parlor, trying on the weight of her new status. It made her walk a little titled over to one side, as if that teeny ring had the heft of an anchor. Maybe it did. Maybe now that she was a missus and all, Mama finally felt as if she wasn’t gonna float ‘round endlessly lost in the Sea of Scoundrels.

  A look of contentment was plastered across her face like I never before seen. For that alone she deserved my joy. I mustered up a hug with a smile attached to it. Laying my arms ‘round her reminded me of how small she really was. Almost helpless.

  The Magical Knowing nibbled at the base of my spine.

  “Thank you, Truly. Now go on and give your daddy a squeeze, too.”

  Calvin DuPont's breath smelled like pickles. He waited 'till I was smack up against him to

  tell me how he "simply adored" Mama. It felt confessional and dirty, as if I suddenly required a bath.