Rendezvous With the Fat Man

by Gail Sherman Jones

  On her first gas stop on Interstate Highway 5, Gail was curious to open and glance inside the box marked ‘IMPORTANT’ which she had purposely placed on the front seat. Her mom had added Jan’s urn among her paperwork, old passports, photos, letters, and a CD titled “Personal Thoughts – My Life Reflections.”

  Gail’s brow rose a bit when she pulled out a manuscript titled RENDEZVOUS WITH THE FAT MAN. Inserted inside was a letter dated June 3, 1980, from a Hollywood producer, “Jan, you’ve lived an unbelievable life. If you ever want to see this turned into a movie, give me a call.”

  “Autobiography? Cool,” Gail said to herself. She grabbed the disc and placed it in the van’s CD player while pulling out of the gas station. After returning to the highway for her drive northward, she pressed play.

  “My name is Jan Sherman and this is my story. A long time ago, I decided to be an actress. It’s just a fancy title for a professional liar who changes characters and pretends to be someone else. I figured, why not get paid for what I’m good at? I’d been lying and playing a part my whole life. Every role was different, designed to get what I wanted at the time. I’ve played a stunt woman, a concert promoter, an actress, writer, and photographer. But the truth is that I was a black sheep, a vagabond, and a free spirit. And, in my twenties, thanks to a certain Fat Man, I became a cocaine smuggler.”

  “A cocaine smuggler? Yeah, right,” Gail said to herself with doubt.

  On her second stop to buy some snacks, Gail looked back into the box at a stack of old photos stuffed into an envelope. The first one she pulled out was of Jan and a fat man in a jungle. She stared at it curiously, then placed it back in the box. Once back on the highway, she pressed play to continue listening to the CD.

  “I’ve been pretending to be someone else for a long time because the role I really wanted my whole life, Perfect Daughter, went to my older sister Gail. And I’ve been doing everything in my power to get out of her shadow ever since, always feeling second best, even if it meant risking my family, my freedom, and my life.”

  Gail was struck silent for a moment and pressed the stop button on the CD player. Her smile faded as she remembered back to June 1964, at home in Woodland Hills, California. It was during her teenage years—she was seventeen and Jan was fifteen—the most contentious time of their dysfunctional sibling relationship.

  She recalled the day as if it had just happened. The family, mom and dad, baby sister Kristen, maternal grandmother Estelle, and Gail, had been sitting around the kitchen table poring over travel books and maps. Jan eagerly walked in, wanting to be a part of the Sherman’s family plan for a trip around the world.

  “I’m so excited. You know this will be my first time on a plane,” Gramma Estelle gushed.

  Jan joined everybody at the table at that moment. “Really, Grams?

  “Not only that, but it’s her first trip out of the United States,” her mom added.

  “And we’re going around the world,” Gramma Estelle responded.

  “That’s the way I want to do it. I still don’t know why Gail can go and I can’t,” Jan complained as she sent a poisonous look at her older sister.

  “We already told you. You’re still in high school and Gail has already graduated. She postponed college to go with us,” her mom reminded everyone.

  “So what! She’s already done everything. It’s not my fault I was born second.”

  Gail laughed. “I’m the oldest, okay? Besides, Gramma wanted me to go so I could visit my pen-pals in Hong Kong, Thailand, and India.”

  “Since Gail’s thinking of joining the Peace Corps, she needs to know what it’s like to work in poor countries,” Gramma Estelle said.

  “What if I wanted to join the Peace Corps?” Jan asked.

  All the adults laughed before turning their attention away from Jan to Gail, continuing their trip-planning.

  Jan was not done. “I could do all my classwork on the plane, in between stops. All you have to do is set it up with my teachers.”

  “You can always travel after you graduate. It’s just not the right time for you, dear,” mom replied.

  “I’ll bring you back some souvenirs,” Gail promised.

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” Jan answered.

  “You’ll be in good hands when we’re gone. Grandma Rose and Grandpa Julius will be staying here taking care of you and Kristen,” her dad added.

  “Oh, no. I have to eat Grandma Rose’s bland Jewish meals for almost two months?” Jan asked.

  “Don’t worry Jan. We can sneak off and eat at McDonalds,” Kristen giggled.

  “Nobody cares about what I think. Screw the trip!” Jan complained.

  “Jan, watch your foul language,” Gramma Estelle scolded her.

  “We’ve been over this a hundred times. When are you going to accept no as an answer?” her dad said.

  Jan was pissed at everybody and stormed out of the kitchen. It may have been the turning point in destroying the Sherman sister’s relationship.

  Gail pressed the start button to continue listening to Jan’s CD.

  “While my family was off globe-trotting, I infiltrated the music scene with the help of my childhood friend, Karen, whose knockout bod could gain us entry in any club in LA. We made lots of new friends in the business. I told them I was a writer and nobody laughed. Instead, they treated me as an equal and invited me to all their parties. I may have been a teenager, but they encouraged me to pursue a career in writing and acting.

  When Gail went off to college at San Jose State, I thought my parents would give me the respect I wanted. But instead, they were always comparing me to her. I didn’t want to be some college coed, wasting precious years of my youth in stuffy classrooms, hoping for a degree or meeting a husband. I knew I couldn’t be the perfect daughter, like my older sister. I just wanted to matter half as much as her. And to do that, I knew I’d had to do something twice as grand. Instead of my parents paying for my trip around the world, I did it all on my own, even though it was through illegal means.

  So began my gypsy life. It was a vain attempt to show my parents what I could do. I wrote them from every city I visited in Europe, the Middle East, and Africa. I wasn’t running away from my family. In fact, I wanted to be connected with them, not out of their thoughts.

  I just needed independence to figure out who I was and my purpose in life.”

  Gail’s van took an exit off the Interstate and pulled into a gas station. She rushed to the restroom and washed away the tears. Staring into the mirror, she only saw sadness on her face for the loss of her sister and grappling with long forgotten old memories. It was so difficult hearing Jan’s voice on the CD; as if she were speaking directly to Gail from the spirit world.

  After returning to the highway, she hit the play button again.

  “The last person I spoke to in my family was Gail. When our dad was dying, she begged me to go see him. She said I’d regret it forever if I didn’t. But I couldn’t. I was too sick from stomach pains to go anywhere, and I’m still suffering. Maybe it’s my kidneys, but I’m trying to figure it out. Just hope I’m not dying. My family thought I was selfish and I lied about my health as an excuse not drive three and a half hours to see dad. When I didn’t show up, even for his memorial service, they stopped speaking to me as if I were no longer part of the family. I felt guilty for what I had done to everybody. That’s why I didn’t reach out for help. Now there’s no one to take care of me. I’m all alone. I even thought about taking my own life to end the emotional pain I inflicted on everyone and the physical pain I’m enduring now.”

  The CD abruptly ended. Gail was overcome with sadness and depression, driving the rest of the way home in silence to internalize Jan’s words, thoughts, and confessions. After arriving home in the early evening, she carried one box from the van and one box only; the one marked ‘IMPORTANT.’ She pulled out the manuscript RENDEZVO
US WITH THE FAT MAN, sat on the couch, and read all night, finishing it in the early morning hours. Gail was stunned and enlightened. Jan’s secret life in the 1970s and her innermost thoughts thereafter were finally revealed.

  She immediately returned to the ‘IMPORTANT’ box and reached inside for the photo of Jan and a fat man in a jungle that she had looked at earlier on her drive home. Her eyes widened as she studied it more meticulously. Turning the photo over, Gail read the handwritten notation, “Papi and Me, 1979.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned. So this is Papi, The FAT MAN,” Gail said out loud, smiling and staring at the photo endlessly. She then withdrew other framed photos of her sister from the box taken during her travel adventures. Gail cleared two shelves in her bookcase and filled them with Jan’s photos and personal souvenirs.

  The last framed photo she retrieved from the ‘IMPORTANT’ box was taken during their childhood and was the only one of Gail that Jan had in her belongings. It was from 1953, when they were four- and six-years old, both smiling and embracing each other, wearing their Sunday-best dresses, seated on a piano bench for a photo shoot at a portrait studio.

  “How innocent and loving we were as little kids. That look on Jan’s face shows she really loved me,” Gail said, while holding the picture close to her heart. She then placed that special, memorable shot in front of all the others on the shelf.

  Finally, Gail withdrew Jan’s ceramic urn and placed it right next to the dried llama fetus ‘sullu’ souvenir that Jan gave her many years ago. With her fingertips, she transferred a kiss from her lips and touched the urn.

  “The truth is, after all you experienced in life, you just wanted to come home. Welcome back, Sis. I love you and wish I could’ve told you that in person. When I die, our ashes will be mixed and scattered together,” Gail whispered.

  She closed the blinds dousing the early morning sunlight into darkness and walked to her bedroom to catch up on her sleep. Gail finally had peace of mind knowing that Jan was where she belonged, with her older sister in perpetuity.

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