Journey's Child

20

When I walked in the door of the cottage, I knew my mother had left for the night. There was that familiar eerie silence, but something else was different-too quiet. I looked around cautiously before closing the door all the way shut.

"Mom?" I called out, hoping maybe she was still there after all. She didn't answer. I walked through each room to make sure I was alone, then I flopped down on my bed and tried to get a good station on my radio.

I must have drifted off for a while because I suddenly woke feeling startled. I sat up in my dark room and tried to remember where I was. I had been jerked awake by a dream about Linda. She was standing outside by the front door. The aqua blue color outlined her thin body and she looked so pale in my dream that I thought she was a ghost. She cupped her hand to her mouth to whisper something to me, and that's what woke me up. When she whispered, it became real. I could feel her breath against my hair and her voice was here in the room, not in my dream. She said "It'll be alright".

I jumped off my bed and turned on the bedroom light. My heart was racing and I felt like I might start crying. For what seemed like a long time, I was too afraid to move. As I stood there not moving, I realized I was hungry. My clock radio read 8:19. I hadn't eaten since I had lunch with Thad. Remembering the day I'd spent with him and Captain made me feel better. I was able to make my way down the hall to the kitchen.

When I turned on the lights, they were so bright that I blinked several times. To my relief, my mom had done some real shopping. I made myself a PB&J sandwich and poured a tall glass of milk that wasn't out of date.

On my way back to my room, I stopped to see what my mom was writing, if anything. The papers and open notebooks were scattered all over. I looked through one of her binders that lay on top of the pile. I tried to read her handwriting; her penmanship was terrible.

She wrote mostly about her emptiness and sorrow since the accident. She talked about the cottage and how we were trying to figure things out. She went on about how she needed a change, an adventure to help get her mind off of how scared she was. Then she began to write about things before the accident. The Thanksgiving two years ago when my dad invited a family to eat with us because the house he had designed for them had a setback during construction. The people and their four children didn't have family to celebrate with. She told about how she had made my dad go out the night before Thanksgiving and buy another turkey and all the trimmings, so there'd be enough to eat.

I began remembering too. The family had just moved here from Germany and only the parents spoke some words of English. It was funny because Sam couldn't understand why the kids didn't know how to play. Legos became what my dad called 'the common denominator'. It was a really good day.

She also wrote about our Christmas last year when my parents rented a cabin up in Tahoe and surprised us with a beautiful white Christmas. I smiled at the memory of all the fun we had sledding and building snowmen.

Then came the letdown. I looked around the kitchen and living room, realizing the awful truth of now. I glanced back down at the page and saw Linda's name. Reading on, she talked about Sharon, Linda's mother, and Tom, Sharon's boyfriend. I sat in a chair as I studied the page and tried to make her scribbles into words. When I got to the part where she wrote about wondering if it might be harder to watch your child die slowly rather than to lose him suddenly, I had read enough. It was too upsetting and sad.

As I lifted the notebook from my lap to set it back up on the table, an envelope fell out. It was addressed to my mother here in Drakes Harbor. The return address was Bremerton, WA. I turned the envelope over in my hands a couple of times, trying to decide if I should read it. Linda was going to Washington to see her grandma. Maybe there was some news about them coming back this way. I pulled out the letter and began to read.

July 28, 2003

Dear Ally,

I'm sad to write and tell you my Linda passed away. She went peacefully after slipping into a coma. My mother had her in the hospital as soon as she took one look at her. Linda had wonderful care and attention up to the end.

I've decided to stay here with my family for now. My brother and sister also live in the area.

Tom took off about five minutes after we arrived. When he figured out he wasn't going to be the center of attention, he was gone. Just as well. He was becoming possessive and jealous, even of Linda. His drinking was out of control and he started losing his temper more often. I just needed to get Linda here and I put up with him to that end. He punched me when I told him to leave. My mother wanted to call the police, but we had enough to deal with.

I know he liked you. He mentioned you several times after we left Drakes Harbor. He may show up at the cottages on his way back to L.A. If he does be careful Ally, he's gotten mean and scary. I don't think he'd cause any trouble, but keep your distance just in case.

I'm enclosing a picture that Linda drew for Gilly. Take care, Ally. Thank you for your help at this difficult time. God bless.

Sharon

*

Tears were flowing down my face. Why did I dream that Linda told me it will be alright? Nothing was alright. I reached in the envelope and pulled out a plain piece of white paper. Gently unfolding it, I looked at Linda's picture. She had drawn our beach with the ocean lapping up on the sand. Soft, fluffy white clouds dotted the blue sky. Sun rays stretched down and touched the sea. I had seen those rays before, in Thad's painting in the gallery window. Then I saw two small figures holding hands. The taller girl was holding out a starfish and the little boy was looking at it and smiling. They both had beautiful white wings. Linda had written on the bottom, Sam and me.

I went to my room to be alone, in a lonely cottage, in a lonely town, dragging my lonely life behind me.

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