Mending the Past

by Avery June Ligon

  Ed wore airplane issued headphones. His eyes were closed and his hands were folded in his lap. He was rocking his head back and forth to the beat of the music. Bud gave a disgusted grunt and got up to stretch his legs by walking to the bathroom. He could see the peak of Sam’s body over the seat tops. As he walked past, Sam kept his eyes closed and said, “Hey there little buddy.” Bud shot him a nasty look.

  The bathrooms were occupied. Bud looked through the crack in the curtains. He could see Maggie. She was sitting in a seat with her legs stretched out in front of her. She’d swaddled her baby-shaped talisman in her airport blanket and the flight attendant was bringing her another. Maggie thanked her and spread the blanket over her legs. The flight attendant said something to Maggie that Bud couldn’t hear. He watched Maggie pat the head of her talisman and give it a little squeeze as she told the flight attendant, “My daughter and grandson are missing. My grandson is just a little baby, and I made this to help guide me as I search for...”

  An attendant’s face appeared right in front of Bud’s. It gave him a warning look and then the attendant closed the crack in the curtains.

  When the flight was over, Bud and Ed took their spots in the line of people filing to the front of the plane. Maggie was there, talking to the flight attendants. She’d already collected her husband, who stood to the side.

  “Here they come,” she said to the flight attendants. “Goodbye, and thanks for the good wishes and positive energy.” She turned to the woman who’d brought her another blanket. “Now, you make sure you tell him everything I told you to say. He needs to understand what you’re worth.”

  The woman nodded. “And good luck to you. I hope you find the baby and your daughter.” She patted Maggie’s talisman on the head.

  “Oh, I almost forgot to give you the blanket,” Maggie said, as she began to unwrap the fake baby.

  “Don’t worry. We have so many of those. Take it, and give it to the baby when you find him.”

  Maggie took Sam’s hand. “Thank you. Adios.”

  No one said goodbye to Bud.

  Ed, Maggie and Sam floundered around in the airport until Bud took charge. First, he found a hotel through the information desk and asked where they could find a cab. On their walk out of the airport he found vendors with snacks he didn’t recognize and in his excitement he bought enough food for them all.

  Bud led Maggie, Sam, and Ed to a line of Ambassadors, and the driver busied himself with stowing their luggage. All four of them sat in the back seat. Maggie perched on Sam’s lap, cradling her talisman. Sam, who took up almost all of the seat, had to lean his head into Bud’s head space, of which there was very little. Bud had just managed to squeeze himself into the seat when Ed climbed onto his lap.

  The driver asked where they wanted to go, and Bud extracted a slip of paper from his pocket. He held it out for the driver, who, from behind Ed, he couldn’t see at all. It was hot and Bud squished, which was making him hotter still. Bud’s legs still ached from the airplane ride, and his forehead was dripping sweat. He felt someone grab the hotel address.

  “Oh, this hotel is no good,” said the rickshaw driver. “No, no, you don’t want to go there.”

  “Where do we want to go?” Maggie asked.

  “I’ll take you to a good hotel. Very comfortable. Good for foreigners.”

  Bud could feel his legs beginning to fall asleep.

  “Or maybe, I could take you to a few hotels? Then you can see which one you like best.”

  “No,” Bud said. “No. I don’t want to ride in here for that long.”

  “What did he say?” the driver asked.

  “He says he isn’t feeling well and might be sick in your vehicle. He asks that you take us somewhere close,” Maggie said.

  * * * * *

  Bud couldn’t see much of their drive, but what he could see and feel terrified him. He could tell the rickshaw was dodging other vehicles and the first time the driver swerved around an animal-drawn cart, Bud reflected on having ever been so proud of his freeway driving in his convertible. When they arrived at the hotel, Bud couldn’t feel either of his legs. He hobbled out of the rickshaw and into the hotel with his luggage.

  The rickshaw driver brought them into the hotel lobby and helped them get two neighboring rooms. Bud sat to the side on his suitcase while his legs recovered.

  When they’d made it to their room Ed asked, “What should we do now?”

  “Do? I want a shower and some sleep,” Bud said. “I didn’t sleep on the plane at all and I’m soaked in sweat. Next time, I get to sit in your lap.”

  Ed looked disappointed, but didn’t press his friend. Instead, he hoisted his suitcase onto his bed to find something cooler to wear. Ed found a lighter shirt and put it on as Bud made his way to the shower.

  Ed expected his mother to have included other things he might find useful. He heard Bud turn on the shower and wondered how long Bud would sleep for. Maybe Mother packed a pen and paper. He could brainstorm. Make a plan for finding his family. He peeked under the neat stacks of clothes. He found an adapter, a notepad and pen, then his fingers hit smooth cool wood. Ed moved the clothing off one end of the wooden chest and then the other. He sat down cross-legged on the bed with the chest in front of him. How unlike Mother, he thought, to pack something so unwieldy. He thumbed open the latches and lifted the lid. He’d expected tools and a flashlight, or maybe binoculars and some maps.

  Ed looked at the long neat row of envelopes like he’d never seen a letter before. When he reached in, he pulled out an envelope from the middle of the row and flipped it over. It was addressed to him, but at the family home. The top of the envelope had already been sliced open with a letter opener. Ed stuck his fingers in and pulled out the letter. He unfolded it and read:

  Dear Edward,

  Happy 10th Birthday!

  Uncle Steward tells me that you’re doing well in school and are growing up to look very much like me. He also says that your mom agreed to let you visit me during summer vacation. I know that you don’t remember me, but Uncle Steward will bring you and stay the whole time. I’m really looking forward to seeing you. The house I have chosen is nothing like the home you’re used to, but it’s right on the beach. I think you’ll like it. We can go fishing and hunt for shells. I also have a garden that I spend a lot of time in. I have a hammock there. I’ll hang up two more hammocks before you and Steward get here.

  One more time, “Happy Birthday!” Eat an extra piece of cake for me.

  Love, Dad

  What a confusing letter, Ed thought. I barely understood a word of it. I’ll just set that to the side and try again. Ed picked another envelope.

  Dear Ed,

  Here are some seeds from my garden. I hope they’ll sprout. I had a good crop this year. I wish you and Steward could have seen it, but I understand how important friends and sports are to a young man. Steward says that you two might be able to visit during winter break. I’ll keep the hammocks up. It’s warm here in December and January, so we’ll be able to swim and look for shells then too.

  I’ve enclosed a picture of myself in front of my home, so you’ll know what to expect.

  Love, Dad

  Ed picked the envelope back up and pulled out a square photograph with rounded edges. Bud came back into the room.

  “What’s that?” He snatched the photo from Ed’s hand. “That’s a nice picture of you, Ed. You look relaxed and happy. A little sad maybe, despite the smile. I don’t see how that’s going to help us find your wife though. On second thought, let’s not talk about that just yet, I want a little sleep. Wake me up for dinner.” Bud lay himself down on his bed, pulled the sheet to his chin, and closed his eyes.

  Ed looked at the picture again. He didn’t remember owning those clothes or having ever been on that beach. He felt queasy. He picked another envelope out of the stack.

  Dear Ed,

  Steward tells me you’ll be graduating from high school at the top of your class. Congratulati
ons. I know that I haven’t been there to help you on the way, and I’m sorry. I can’t help but feel proud anyway. Steward tells me you’ll be off to college. I’d like it if you’d give me your address and maybe you could send me a few words. It would mean a lot to me. I bet I’ll be living in the same place, if you ever feel like writing or meeting your father, I’ll be here, ready to welcome a letter or you.

  Love, Dad

  Pretty weird that this Ed has an uncle Steward too. Mother must have thought this was a pretty incredible coincidence.

  Ed picked the photograph up again, and this time his brain allowed a faint and far off whisper to suggest another explanation. He felt so tired. His eyelids felt so heavy. He let his body lie down and he fell asleep.

  * * * * *

  Bud wondered why Ed hadn’t woken him as he opened his eyes in the dark room. He fumbled around with the light next to his bed. When he’d turned the light on, he saw Ed sleeping. “Hey, Ed.”

  No response.

  “Hey, Ed.”

  Ed didn’t move.

  “Ed, I’m hungry. Lets go get some food.”

  Nothing.

  He walked over to Ed’s bed. “Ed.”

  Ed still didn’t move. Bud stuck his ear next to Ed’s nose to make sure he was still breathing. “Not funny, Ed.” Bud slapped Ed’s stomach. “Come on. It wasn’t funny at home, and it isn’t funny in India either. Stop playing dead.”

  There was a knock on the door and Maggie said, “We were thinking of heading out to find some food. Do you guys want to come?”

  “Yes,” Bud said. “But wait. Come in here.” He let Maggie and Sam in. “I can’t wake Ed up. I’m starting to get worried. You don’t think he could have gotten sick already do you? I don’t think he drank any water or anything. We ate those snacks in the airport, but I feel fine. Do you feel okay?”

  “Yes,” Maggie said.

  Sam nodded.

  Maggie walked over to Ed’s bed and sat down. She poked Ed in the side a few times and when she didn’t get a response she shook him a little. The light that came from Bud’s bedside light was dim, so Maggie turned Ed’s light on too. She felt Ed’s forehead. “No.” Ed’s hands were resting on his chest and he still held the photograph between his thumb and forefinger. Maggie took it from him and leaned closer to the light. “I thought he might have a picture of Jet,” she said. “But he fell asleep holding a picture of himself.”

  “Weird guy,” Sam said, looking down at Bud. “Right, little buddy? Who brings a picture of themselves when they travel?”

  “Oh, come on. He didn’t even pack his own bag. You remember. His mom sent someone to do it for him,” Bud said.

  Sam grunted and nodded.

  “Sorry, I’m wrong. It’s not Ed. It looks a lot like him, but it isn’t Ed. Besides you can tell from the shape of the photograph that it’s too old to be Ed.”

  Ed was still sound asleep even with everyone talking over him.

  Maggie opened one of the letters and read it over. “It’s his dad. This is a letter from him for Ed’s tenth birthday.”

  “Impossible,” Bud said, snatching the photograph from Maggie. “His dad died when he was a baby.”

  “No,” Maggie said. “Here’s another.” She held out the birthday letter and the letter that included the seeds. Bud read them both and Sam read them over his shoulder.

  “Brain Lockup,” Sam said.

  “What?” Bud asked.

  “You always sound so annoyed, little buddy. You really need to work on that.” Sam paused, then said, “Brain Lockup. Ed has gone into Brain Lockup.”

  “What are you talking about?” Bud asked.

  “Sam’s telling you that Ed’s brain closed itself up to do some major work,” Maggie said.

  “Oh, great. Thank you Doctor Samuel Jefferson. Let me just go grab my dictionary of medical terms and find Brain Lockup, so I can fully comprehend the extent of his illness,” said Bud.

  “It happened to me when Jet called to warn me that she’d married a white man,” Maggie said. “ All of those years I’d imagined her settling down with a nice woman.”

  “Maggie’s always been an optimist,” Sam said.

  “Anyway, Jet had also wanted to warn me that he was rich and white and that it wouldn’t do any good to use my usual conversation starters about auras or the effects of chakra color therapy because her husband wouldn’t know what I was talking about.”

  “Maggie had some very firm ideas about the person Jet would spend the rest of her life with. Those ideas weren’t descriptive of Ed,” Sam said.

  “After she told me, I fell asleep for two days. Sam couldn’t wake me up.”

  Bud looked at his sleeping friend and then at Maggie and Sam. He listened to the sounds from the city street.

  “It should take Ed a while to wake up. He’s going to have to shift around a lot of what he knows,” Sam said.

  “Finding out that his father has been alive this whole time will force Ed to rewrite his life. Just imagine how exhausting that would be.”

  Bud was hungry. “You really think he’s just going to sleep?”

  Maggie and Sam both nodded.

  “Why am I even asking you? I think you’re both nuts.”

  “It’s okay, little buddy. We know,” Sam said, and Maggie nodded.

  Bud found a pen and notepad on top of Ed’s clothes and wrote him a note telling Ed not to worry and that they’d be back after dinner. Then he turned to Maggie and Sam and they all left together.

  * * * * *

  They agreed to eat at the closest place that was open. A tall thin man in blue trousers and a white button-up shirt led them to their table and gave them menus. Maggie knew the Hindi word for lentil and so they ordered one lentil dish and guessed at the rest.

  “Well,” Bud said over his plate of food, “what are we going to do now that we’re here?”

  “Ed’s Brain Lockup changes things. We can’t go anywhere until he wakes up. He’s too big to carry,” Maggie said.

  “Oh, right. Brain Lockup. Hm. Well, let’s just pretend that Ed wakes up in the morning. Then what? What’s the plan for finding Jet?” Bud asked.

  “You and Ed led us here. You and Ed will continue to lead us. We’re just here to help on the way.” Maggie gave the talisman a little snuggle.

  “Hey, you guys decided to come here. Don’t try to blame this trip on me.”

  “You confirmed Ed’s statement that Jet was in India,” Maggie said.

  “No. I never said any such thing,” Bud said, spooning some food into his mouth. “This one’s really good.” Bud pointed to one of the dishes on the table. “Anyway, like I was saying, I never said any such thing. Maybe Captain Butt-Eye agreed with you guys, but I didn’t. I don’t even remember whatever it is you’re talking about.”

  Maggie and Sam exchanged a glance.

  “I’m glad you raised the subject,” Maggie said. “We were worried you might say something like that.”

  “Like what?” Bud asked, looking up from his food.

  “We think you need to start wearing the bandana again.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You need to learn to access Captain Butt-Eye for us to be able to find Jet.”

  “Access?”

  “Channel,” Maggie said.

  “You people are totally crazy. I was not channeling a pirate ghost who magically knows your daughter’s every move, okay? I was telling a story. Butt-Eye is a character that I made up to entertain my little girl. Get it? He’s made up.”

  “You’ve got to work on that anger, little buddy. You’re too excitable,” Sam said.

  Bud glared at him.

  “We’ll help you channel the captain,” Maggie said.

  Bud shook his head. “Oh, no. I’m not eating any more of Sam’s magic food. Sorry.”

  Maggie looked disappointed. “Well, to start, you can wear the bandana and I’ll start calling you Captain Butt-Eye and...”

  “What? No. No, you can’t go aro
und calling me Captain Butt-Eye. I won’t represent the United States abroad as Captain Butt-Eye. When the people of India look at this group of tourists they need to think that there’s at least one sane person from the U.S. and that can’t be either of you.”

  “...and, Sam is pretty attached to calling you little buddy, but he has agreed to begin calling you little Bud-Eye.”

  “You people are killing me,” Bud said, leaning back in his chair, “My name is Bud, not Bud-Eye, and certainly not Butt-Eye.”

  “You need to work on your anger, little Bud-Eye,” Sam said again.

  Bud put his hand to his head. “You two are capable of being some of the least agreeable people on this planet. I’m sure of it. And, you’re giving me a headache.”

  “It’s not us. It’s your anger. I warned you,” Sam said.

  “I wouldn’t be angry if it wasn’t for you,” Bud said. The pain became sharp and stabbed into Bud’s brain. He clutched at his head and closed his eyes.

  “I told you,” Sam said, reaching into his back pocket. “Here you go little Bud-Eye.”

  Bud opened one eye and found Sam’s big hand offering him the blue bandana.

  “Here you go. Put it on. It’ll help,” said Sam.

  “What? That’s not going to help.”

  “Sure it will. It did before. It’ll maintain pressure on your head. Old remedy.”

  “I’m not going to wear that on my head.”

  Maggie reached across the table and took Bud’s plate.

  “Hey, give that back. What are you doing?”

  “I’ll give it back after you put the bandana on,” Maggie said.

  “Jesus Christ,” Bud said, snatching the bandana from Sam. He fit it onto his head and looked at Maggie. “There you go. Are you happy?”

  “Vishnu.”

  “What?”

  “Jesus Christ is considered an aspect of Vishnu here. And you need the point hanging over your eye.”

  “Just give me my food.”

  Sam reached across the table giving the bandana a quick tug. The corner flopped over Bud’s eye.

  “Perfect,” Maggie said, and slid Bud’s food back.

  Bud bent back over his food and grumbled, “Vishnu” at it. He ate the rest of his meal without looking at either Maggie or Sam.