The next night was easy to sneak out. Mom had to work a double shift and Aunt Janet fell asleep on the couch in front of the TV watching the show about doctors that Caroline was never allowed to see. She knew she wouldn’t have much time though, so she slipped quietly out the back door and ran to the tree in the yard of the vacant house. The Maxfield’s were in their living room again.
Friday: They are watching a movie. They are sitting together under a blanket on their couch. Charlie got up and went down the hall and didn’t come back for almost five whole minutes. Maybe he was going to leave to go creep and changed his mind.
Saturday after dinner, Caroline asked if she could ride her bike around the block.
Eva was sitting on her unmade bed, folding laundry. “Sure” she said, “There won’t be many warm evenings left before fall sets in. Just make it quick, I want you home before dark.”
Caroline rode by Charlie’s house three times on the opposite side of the street, looking in the window as best she could while not crashing into mailboxes or parked cars. When she got home, she wrote in her notebook:
Saturday: They were sitting at the dining room table. It looks like they were
playing that game that my dad played with me once. I think it is called Monopoly. It was probably too early for Charlie to go creeping because it wasn’t even dark yet. I will try to go at 10:00 tomorrow night because I think that’s not too early and not too late for creepers.
She spent most of Sunday at her grandma’s house. It was the day her mom and Aunt Janet would help out since Grandma got put in a wheelchair. Caroline sat in the rocking recliner with the cushiony back watching cartoons on television. She could hear Grandma in the kitchen telling Aunt Janet that she wasn’t putting the dishes away right. Caroline looked at the wall above the TV, covered in white wallpaper with green ivy swirling in a repeated, leafy pattern. On top of that hung a mishmash of framed pictures.
Caroline looked at the one of her mom and Janet when they were just girls. They were wearing matching red Christmas dresses, their hair in curls. A yellow-haired dog sat at Aunt Janet’s feet.
There was a black and white one of Grandma as a young woman at her first communion. She was wearing the rosary beads that she had given to Caroline.
Next was a picture of her mom and dad on their wedding day. They were walking out of the church beneath a shower of rice. One of dad’s hands was holding moms, and the other was making a thumbs up sign.
Beneath that, in an oval-shaped gold frame, was one of their family pictures. Mom’s hair, long and sun bleached in the wedding picture, was shorter and darker in this photo. She was holding a toddler Caroline, dressed in overalls, on her lap. Her dad was wearing a striped polo shirt that made his stomach look big. His mouth was kind of puckered, like the photographer had told him to say “cheese” and caught him at the “ch” part.
She stared at that one for a long time and tried to remember if that’s what her dad had still looked like the last time she saw him.
It was nearly 9:30 when they got home that night. Caroline had pretended to fall asleep in the back seat on the drive home so that when they arrived she stumbled sleepily into her room without being asked to do any chores or change her clothes. She lay quietly in her bed, listening until she heard the TV click on and fill the hallway with the faint laughter of a TV show. Once again, she climbed onto her desk and opened her window, moving it in small increments to keep from making any noise. As soon as there was enough room, she lowered herself down and fell softly into the grass.
Quickly, she made her way down the dark sidewalk. She could tell as soon as she turned the corner that the Maxfield’s were either gone or asleep. The house sat dark and lifeless. She paused for a moment, wondering whether or not to go home or go look in the bedroom windows when she heard a car coming down the street. Quickly, she ran to the Willow tree and climbed up to hide. A set of headlights came into view, attached to a blue station wagon. It slowed and swung into the Maxfield’s driveway.
The driver’s side door opened and Mr. Maxfield got out, quickly making his way around to the passenger side. He opened the door and helped Charlie out. Charlie walked hunched over, holding his stomach. Mr. Maxfield helped him up the few front steps. They paused on the landing while the door was unlocked, then stepped inside. A light flicked on the living room. Mr. Maxfield helped Charlie sit down on the couch, unzipping his brown windbreaker. He carried the jacket over to the coat closet, hung it up, then took down a blanket and pillow from the top shelf. Placing the pillow beneath his son’s head, he covered him up with the blanket, and pulled off his shoes. He disappeared into the kitchen, another light turning on, and returned with a large cooking pot like the one Caroline’s mom made spaghetti in. He scooted the coffee table against the couch and placed the pot on it. Almost as soon as he did, Charlie sat up and grabbed the pot with two hands. His shoulder muscles spasmed as he wretched again and again. When he finished, he flopped back down on the couch, pulling his legs against his stomach and rocking slightly from side to side.
Mr. Maxfield walked down the hall and reappeared with a wet washcloth, using it to slowly wipe at Charlie’s forehead and mouth.
Caroline could see the flicker of TV being turned on. Mr. Maxfield set the remote control near Charlie. He lifted his son’s feet to make a spot at the end of the couch then placed them on his lap as he sat down. He leaned in and rubbed big circles across Charlie’s back, his mouth speaking words of comfort Caroline couldn’t hear as the pictures on the TV cast changing colors across their faces.
The notebook lay open across her lap, the pencil in her hand. Caroline tried to write something but couldn’t take her eyes off the scene in the window in front of her. Tightness gripped at her throat. She couldn’t swallow it away. The inside corners of her eyes burned with the pressure of tears. She needed to go home. Now. She was certain she’d been gone too long already and she needed to talk to her mom.
Closing the notebook on the still blank page, she climbed down out of the tree, her long skirt fluttering in the slight breeze. She willed her heavy legs toward home.
As she rounded the corner, a quick alternating of red and blue light flashed through the small pocket of the night sky. Caroline stopped for a moment. In front of her house were two police cars. One officer was standing in the front yard, talking to Aunt Janet, who was pulling at her hair with one hand and gesturing wildly with the other. Another officer was sitting on the front step next to her mom, a pen and notepad in his hands. Her mom was bent over, her face pressed into her hands, shaking as she sobbed. A third officer was taking pictures of Caroline’s still open bedroom window.
She began to run towards her house. “Mom!” she yelled, “Mom!”
Eva looked up, her eyes squinting through the swirl of light.
“Caroline?!” She stood up and ran towards her daughter, meeting her at the edge of the yard. “Caroline? Are you ok? Where were you? Aunt Janet went in to make sure you’d put on your pajamas, and you were gone, and the window was open, and with that peeping tom on the loose…we thought …oh, come here, baby”.
She dropped to her knees and threw her arms around Caroline, pressing her chin against the top of her daughter’s head. Caroline pushed her face into her mother’s shoulder, letting the thick cotton of her sweatshirt soak up the tears that were spilling as fast and frantically as her words.
“I’m sorry Mom. I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t know I was gone so long. I was just watching Charlie Maxfield because I thought he was the creeper, and he was sick, and his dad was taking care of him. And where’s my Dad? Is he ever going to come back? Where did he go? Where?”
***
The faint pink-gray light of morning inching through the curtains woke Caroline. She inhaled sharply and rubbed at her still closed eyes. The events of last night unrolled themselves hazily across her mind. The police stayed to ask a few more questions, even helped Aunt Janet put the screens back on the windows, while Mom took Caroline inside and set her down on the chair. They talked about her dad.
She had learned that Dad was with Billy Osborne. Caroline remembered him. He had white hair even though he wasn’t very old, and he wore shirts without sleeves so that everyone could see the big snake he had tattooed on his arm. He used to come over to their house a lot late at night to drink beers with her dad. She would see them sometimes when she got out of bed to get some water or use the bathroom.
Mom had said that she thought they went to Louisiana. Her Dad and Billy were both bricklayers, and there was a lot of building going on there because of the hurricane.
As to when he’d be back, Mom said she didn’t know. He hadn’t told her he was leaving and she’d only gotten two phone messages from him in the last six months—neither saying much more than he was ok and he loved them.
“Caroline” Mom had said, “I didn’t tell you any of this because I don’t want you to think the worst of your dad. He does love us. He wanted so badly to provide for you and me. To give us a big house and new cars and trips to Hawaii and Disneyland. I told him those things didn’t matter, that as long as we were together, we’d be alright. But some men have a lot of stupid pride—and your dad is one of them. No matter how hard he worked, it never seemed to be enough. Then the economy took a turn for the worst, and he started to get angry at everyone and everything, but mostly himself-- saying things like ‘we’d all just be better off without him’. I guess somewhere along the way he started to really believe it and left. I know that if he can ever get things worked out in his head, forgive himself and remember what’s most important, he’ll come back to us. But if not, I know we’ll still be just fine. I know it! I’ve got you and you got me, and we’ve got Aunt Janet. And Grandma.”
“And God” Caroline had added.
“Yes, sweetheart” said Mom, kissing her on the forehead “I think we’ve even got God on our side.”
Just as they were finishing up their talk, Aunt Janet had yelled from the family room “Come look! Quick! On the news! They caught the creeper!”
Mom and Caroline ran in just in time to see the mug shot photo with the name Daryl “Moby” Mobius beneath it.
“That’s my bus driver!” said Caroline.
“Wouldn’t you know it?” said Aunt Janet, shaking her head, “Isn’t it always the bus drivers? I’m just grateful he’s caught and the whole town can all sleep a little better at night.”
Slowly Caroline pulled her eyes open. The papery bottoms of the crosses above her bed filled her vision. She felt different somehow, now that she knew about her dad. About Charlie. About the creeper. Things weren’t so scary. She pulled her legs out from beneath the weight of blanket and stood on her bed facing the wall. One by one, she slowly began pulling the crosses off—the tape holding them up making a sucking sound as it was released from the wall. She tossed them into a pile along the side of her bed: The colored construction paper ones. The ones cut from empty cereal boxes. The ones she’d adorned with stickers and glitter. Even one she’d painted using bottles of Aunt Janet’s fingernail polish.
Friday: They are watching a movie. They are sitting together under a blanket on their couch. Charlie got up and went down the hall and didn’t come back for almost five whole minutes. Maybe he was going to leave to go creep and changed his mind.
Saturday after dinner, Caroline asked if she could ride her bike around the block.
Eva was sitting on her unmade bed, folding laundry. “Sure” she said, “There won’t be many warm evenings left before fall sets in. Just make it quick, I want you home before dark.”
Caroline rode by Charlie’s house three times on the opposite side of the street, looking in the window as best she could while not crashing into mailboxes or parked cars. When she got home, she wrote in her notebook:
Saturday: They were sitting at the dining room table. It looks like they were
playing that game that my dad played with me once. I think it is called Monopoly. It was probably too early for Charlie to go creeping because it wasn’t even dark yet. I will try to go at 10:00 tomorrow night because I think that’s not too early and not too late for creepers.
She spent most of Sunday at her grandma’s house. It was the day her mom and Aunt Janet would help out since Grandma got put in a wheelchair. Caroline sat in the rocking recliner with the cushiony back watching cartoons on television. She could hear Grandma in the kitchen telling Aunt Janet that she wasn’t putting the dishes away right. Caroline looked at the wall above the TV, covered in white wallpaper with green ivy swirling in a repeated, leafy pattern. On top of that hung a mishmash of framed pictures.
Caroline looked at the one of her mom and Janet when they were just girls. They were wearing matching red Christmas dresses, their hair in curls. A yellow-haired dog sat at Aunt Janet’s feet.
There was a black and white one of Grandma as a young woman at her first communion. She was wearing the rosary beads that she had given to Caroline.
Next was a picture of her mom and dad on their wedding day. They were walking out of the church beneath a shower of rice. One of dad’s hands was holding moms, and the other was making a thumbs up sign.
Beneath that, in an oval-shaped gold frame, was one of their family pictures. Mom’s hair, long and sun bleached in the wedding picture, was shorter and darker in this photo. She was holding a toddler Caroline, dressed in overalls, on her lap. Her dad was wearing a striped polo shirt that made his stomach look big. His mouth was kind of puckered, like the photographer had told him to say “cheese” and caught him at the “ch” part.
She stared at that one for a long time and tried to remember if that’s what her dad had still looked like the last time she saw him.
It was nearly 9:30 when they got home that night. Caroline had pretended to fall asleep in the back seat on the drive home so that when they arrived she stumbled sleepily into her room without being asked to do any chores or change her clothes. She lay quietly in her bed, listening until she heard the TV click on and fill the hallway with the faint laughter of a TV show. Once again, she climbed onto her desk and opened her window, moving it in small increments to keep from making any noise. As soon as there was enough room, she lowered herself down and fell softly into the grass.
Quickly, she made her way down the dark sidewalk. She could tell as soon as she turned the corner that the Maxfield’s were either gone or asleep. The house sat dark and lifeless. She paused for a moment, wondering whether or not to go home or go look in the bedroom windows when she heard a car coming down the street. Quickly, she ran to the Willow tree and climbed up to hide. A set of headlights came into view, attached to a blue station wagon. It slowed and swung into the Maxfield’s driveway.
The driver’s side door opened and Mr. Maxfield got out, quickly making his way around to the passenger side. He opened the door and helped Charlie out. Charlie walked hunched over, holding his stomach. Mr. Maxfield helped him up the few front steps. They paused on the landing while the door was unlocked, then stepped inside. A light flicked on the living room. Mr. Maxfield helped Charlie sit down on the couch, unzipping his brown windbreaker. He carried the jacket over to the coat closet, hung it up, then took down a blanket and pillow from the top shelf. Placing the pillow beneath his son’s head, he covered him up with the blanket, and pulled off his shoes. He disappeared into the kitchen, another light turning on, and returned with a large cooking pot like the one Caroline’s mom made spaghetti in. He scooted the coffee table against the couch and placed the pot on it. Almost as soon as he did, Charlie sat up and grabbed the pot with two hands. His shoulder muscles spasmed as he wretched again and again. When he finished, he flopped back down on the couch, pulling his legs against his stomach and rocking slightly from side to side.
Mr. Maxfield walked down the hall and reappeared with a wet washcloth, using it to slowly wipe at Charlie’s forehead and mouth.
Caroline could see the flicker of TV being turned on. Mr. Maxfield set the remote control near Charlie. He lifted his son’s feet to make a spot at the end of the couch then placed them on his lap as he sat down. He leaned in and rubbed big circles across Charlie’s back, his mouth speaking words of comfort Caroline couldn’t hear as the pictures on the TV cast changing colors across their faces.
The notebook lay open across her lap, the pencil in her hand. Caroline tried to write something but couldn’t take her eyes off the scene in the window in front of her. Tightness gripped at her throat. She couldn’t swallow it away. The inside corners of her eyes burned with the pressure of tears. She needed to go home. Now. She was certain she’d been gone too long already and she needed to talk to her mom.
Closing the notebook on the still blank page, she climbed down out of the tree, her long skirt fluttering in the slight breeze. She willed her heavy legs toward home.
As she rounded the corner, a quick alternating of red and blue light flashed through the small pocket of the night sky. Caroline stopped for a moment. In front of her house were two police cars. One officer was standing in the front yard, talking to Aunt Janet, who was pulling at her hair with one hand and gesturing wildly with the other. Another officer was sitting on the front step next to her mom, a pen and notepad in his hands. Her mom was bent over, her face pressed into her hands, shaking as she sobbed. A third officer was taking pictures of Caroline’s still open bedroom window.
She began to run towards her house. “Mom!” she yelled, “Mom!”
Eva looked up, her eyes squinting through the swirl of light.
“Caroline?!” She stood up and ran towards her daughter, meeting her at the edge of the yard. “Caroline? Are you ok? Where were you? Aunt Janet went in to make sure you’d put on your pajamas, and you were gone, and the window was open, and with that peeping tom on the loose…we thought …oh, come here, baby”.
She dropped to her knees and threw her arms around Caroline, pressing her chin against the top of her daughter’s head. Caroline pushed her face into her mother’s shoulder, letting the thick cotton of her sweatshirt soak up the tears that were spilling as fast and frantically as her words.
“I’m sorry Mom. I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t know I was gone so long. I was just watching Charlie Maxfield because I thought he was the creeper, and he was sick, and his dad was taking care of him. And where’s my Dad? Is he ever going to come back? Where did he go? Where?”
***
The faint pink-gray light of morning inching through the curtains woke Caroline. She inhaled sharply and rubbed at her still closed eyes. The events of last night unrolled themselves hazily across her mind. The police stayed to ask a few more questions, even helped Aunt Janet put the screens back on the windows, while Mom took Caroline inside and set her down on the chair. They talked about her dad.
She had learned that Dad was with Billy Osborne. Caroline remembered him. He had white hair even though he wasn’t very old, and he wore shirts without sleeves so that everyone could see the big snake he had tattooed on his arm. He used to come over to their house a lot late at night to drink beers with her dad. She would see them sometimes when she got out of bed to get some water or use the bathroom.
Mom had said that she thought they went to Louisiana. Her Dad and Billy were both bricklayers, and there was a lot of building going on there because of the hurricane.
As to when he’d be back, Mom said she didn’t know. He hadn’t told her he was leaving and she’d only gotten two phone messages from him in the last six months—neither saying much more than he was ok and he loved them.
“Caroline” Mom had said, “I didn’t tell you any of this because I don’t want you to think the worst of your dad. He does love us. He wanted so badly to provide for you and me. To give us a big house and new cars and trips to Hawaii and Disneyland. I told him those things didn’t matter, that as long as we were together, we’d be alright. But some men have a lot of stupid pride—and your dad is one of them. No matter how hard he worked, it never seemed to be enough. Then the economy took a turn for the worst, and he started to get angry at everyone and everything, but mostly himself-- saying things like ‘we’d all just be better off without him’. I guess somewhere along the way he started to really believe it and left. I know that if he can ever get things worked out in his head, forgive himself and remember what’s most important, he’ll come back to us. But if not, I know we’ll still be just fine. I know it! I’ve got you and you got me, and we’ve got Aunt Janet. And Grandma.”
“And God” Caroline had added.
“Yes, sweetheart” said Mom, kissing her on the forehead “I think we’ve even got God on our side.”
Just as they were finishing up their talk, Aunt Janet had yelled from the family room “Come look! Quick! On the news! They caught the creeper!”
Mom and Caroline ran in just in time to see the mug shot photo with the name Daryl “Moby” Mobius beneath it.
“That’s my bus driver!” said Caroline.
“Wouldn’t you know it?” said Aunt Janet, shaking her head, “Isn’t it always the bus drivers? I’m just grateful he’s caught and the whole town can all sleep a little better at night.”
Slowly Caroline pulled her eyes open. The papery bottoms of the crosses above her bed filled her vision. She felt different somehow, now that she knew about her dad. About Charlie. About the creeper. Things weren’t so scary. She pulled her legs out from beneath the weight of blanket and stood on her bed facing the wall. One by one, she slowly began pulling the crosses off—the tape holding them up making a sucking sound as it was released from the wall. She tossed them into a pile along the side of her bed: The colored construction paper ones. The ones cut from empty cereal boxes. The ones she’d adorned with stickers and glitter. Even one she’d painted using bottles of Aunt Janet’s fingernail polish.
Finally she got to the last one. It was made of simple notebook paper, pale blue stripes across a white background. Caroline remembered making it during free time at school when she was supposed to be reading. Across the width of it, in capital letters, she’d written OUR FATHER WHO ART IN HEAVEN. Her hand paused over the top of the cross then lowered as she read the words again. That one, she left.
***********THE END***************
I realized after I wrote this that it was too sweet. I needed to show more than tell--especially in Caroline's character. And not let the situation resolve itself quite so cleanly. However...for the purpose of this blog, there's something to be said about "nice" and "sweet". I'll save revising and grittying the piece up for another time. :). Hope you enjoyed the read!
3 comments:
oh thank you for this... please keep sharing from time to time.
This is great- loved it.
Jen,
Thanks! I really enjoyed it. You are awesome! I hope your foot is feeling better.
Post a Comment