Finding the Way Back (36 page)

“We should bring ice cream bars home to the
crew,” I decided as we exited the car wash.

“Good idea,” Emmett agreed. “I love my ice
cream.”

We stopped at the local DQ and picked up a
box of Dilly Bars before returning to the house. Everyone was out
in the yard, sitting on some old wooden folding chairs and faded
lawn chairs they found. Glen was sitting on a wooden box.

“I knew you’d escaped,” Connie said as I got
out of the car.

I smiled holding up the treats. “But look
what we have. I come in peace to bring you ice cream.” It seemed to
do the trick in getting everyone to forgive us as we passed out the
ice cream.

“I see you’ve brought some stuff up,” Emmett
said, pointing his Dilly Bar at the items everyone was sitting
on.

“Oh, we saved plenty of the work for you,
buddy,” Dean replied.

“I figured you would.”

After the snack we filed back into the house
and down the stairs. They had made some progress working through
the mountain of items but there was still plenty to do. However, I
felt renewed and dove into the work, grabbing an old oil heater and
hauling it out to the garage.

Like a human escalator, we were a continuous
stream of movement up and down the stairs, dragging things out and
setting them in the back yard or garage. I came upon a large wooden
trunk and waited for Emmett and Dean to return so they could lift
it together.

“You could fit a body in this trunk,” Emmett
noticed as he tried to heft his side.

“My God, what’s in this thing? We’re going to
have to empty it before we move it,” Dean said, pulling on the
handle unsuccessfully.

“It’s locked, and I’m not sure where the key
is,” I said. “We may just have to break it open.”

“Laney, remember all those keys we found,”
Connie said coming up to look at the trunk. “We should try those.
Hey, this is a great trunk. I would love to sand it down, and put
firewood or something in it upstairs in the living room.”

“Why don’t we leave it until last,” my mother
advised, coming up behind us.

We almost had the place empty and I could see
my mother and aunt waning. “That’s probably enough for now,” I
suggested. “Let’s go take a break.”

Grunts and groans greeted my suggestion.
Trudging up to the living room I plopped down and sprawled across
the middle of the floor to stretch my back.

“What are you doing? Are you okay?” Emmett
asked, concerned, coming to stand over me.

“I’m fine,” I insisted. “My back is just a
tad sore.”

“Laney, the floor is filthy,” my mother
protested.

“Well, I’m not exactly fresh as a daisy
either. Please, lying on a flat surface helps relax my back.”

Rolling her eyes, my mother went back out to
the kitchen where she could complain about me to my aunt. I closed
my eyes then brought my knees up to my chest to stretch my lower
back.

Connie walked in holding the clock, moving
slowly so as not to shake it too much. “I’m going to put this on
the mantle so nothing can happen to it.”

“Can I help you with that?” Dean asked,
moving to take it from Connie.

“I’m okay,” she said lifting the clock
towards the mantle. “Well, maybe you could help me.”

“Don’t step on me,” I called from the floor
underneath them, watching with fascination, trying to stay still
and out of the way so they wouldn’t drop it. I looked up as it was
almost directly above my head. “Hey, wait. There’s a paper stuck to
the bottom.”

Connie and Dean stopped and held the clock
uncomfortably between the two of them. I slowly got to my knees so
I wouldn’t upset their hold and pulled at the tape that was holding
it in place. It looked like a plain piece of brown construction
paper, the kind used by children to cut out turkeys in the shape of
their hands. The tape was pulling away from the wood on the one
side, but I had to hook my fingernail under it on the other to peel
it back. I didn’t want to ruin whatever it was, even if it just
turned out to be an old invoice. I finally got it separated so
Connie and Dean could rest the clock on the mantel.

Taped to the other side of the brown piece of
paper was a folded, yellowed sheet. Right away, I wondered if this
was what my grandmother had wanted me to find when she said ‘find
the clock.’ “There’s something here,” I said to the others.

We gathered around the coffee table and
looked at the paper in my hand. I was almost afraid to open it. “It
looks like a note,” I said excitedly as I laid it flat on the
table. I carefully separated the note from the construction paper
and unfolded it. The ink had faded but you could still read the
faint writing in a beautiful old-fashioned script.

My dearest Teo,

I find my thoughts are all of you lately. Our
fun, as you used to say, has been all I think of. I must beg you to
meet me and promise to be mine. I know your family may not be happy
with your choice but I will forever endeavor to be worthy of you
and your love. It will be difficult for a while, I don’t have much
to offer you besides two strong arms to hold you, but I know we
have a great future in store.

Meet me at our place tomorrow night that we
may forever be together. I’ll be there at seven and will wait until
midnight. If you don’t come, I will understand, I will go away,
never to return to bother you.

All my love,

Quentin

There were smudges on the paper that looked
as if someone had cried while reading it. I looked up at my mother,
and there were tears in her eyes.

“Why didn’t she meet him?” she said.
“Everyone thought he had run out on her but really, she didn’t go
to him. Why?”

I got up and put my arms around her. “I don’t
know, Mom. She may not have known she was pregnant yet when she got
this. Perhaps she couldn’t go against her family wishes. After all,
even he knew he wasn’t a popular choice. Then she may not have
known how to find him later, or it was too difficult for her to run
after him. I think she was trying to tell us something by letting
us know, but I’m not sure what it was. Maybe she’s trying to clear
his name for some reason, trying to let us know it wasn’t his
fault. Maybe that’s why she can’t go on yet.”

My mother regained her composure and wiped
her eyes. “It’s so confusing. Maybe we got the story wrong all
these years. Maybe Quentin didn’t just run out on her. But why
didn’t she go with him?”

“We’ll have to keep looking for more
information. If this letter is here, maybe we haven’t found
everything. I do feel like we’re getting closer to some answers
though,” I said with more hope than I really had. “I’m not ready to
quit. If anything it makes me more eager to continue. There’s a
whole lot in this house that we haven’t looked at yet.”

It was difficult to believe that after so
many years we would be able to find the truth and get to the bottom
of this mystery. But if it could be done, I was determined to do
it.

Chapter
Thirty-Eight

I feared the coming evening would be
difficult and I felt a growing sense of dread in the pit of my
stomach. Making a cup of peppermint tea to settle my nausea, I
walked to the living room and leaned against the wall to listen to
the war counsel.

Emmett, Dean, and Glen were grouped to one
side on folding chairs while my mother, aunt, and Connie sat across
from them on the sofa and recliner respectively. I could almost see
the nervous energy wafting off the group like heat waves off of
black tar asphalt. Connie was bouncing her knee up and down, my
mother was kneading her armrest—everyone seemed to be in some
variation of jittery motion that gave away their restlessness.

I took a deep breath and let out a long sigh.
All day there was a tightness in my chest that made it feel like I
couldn’t catch my breath. If I sat down, I had to stand up, if I
was standing, I had to sit. It felt like every nerve was on edge,
stretched taut and vibrating.

Emmett turned to me and smiled a tight,
closed-lip smile. I knew it was meant to be reassuring but it just
made my stomach churn even more. If he was apprehensive it would
only fuel my worry. I thought I might vomit. I felt like I just had
to get out.

I turned suddenly and strode into the
kitchen, set my cup on the table with a thunk, and continued out
the back door. When I was halfway across the lawn I heard the door
slam behind me and the sound of someone running across the grass. I
kept moving forward, not even letting myself think. Strong arms
wrapped around me from behind and pulled me to a stop.

“Laney, it’s okay, we’re going to be okay,”
Emmett whispered into my ear. “I promise.”

He held me tight for a few more moments until
he was sure I wasn’t going to run away then he turned me around and
held me in a bear hug. It was like going home, warm, comforting and
safe. All the tension and anxiety went out of me and a few tears
came to my eyes. How could this man whom I hardly knew make me feel
so safe? So settled? Yet so full of passion? I pushed the tears
back, not wanting him to see me cry. Being vulnerable didn’t come
easy to me, and I didn’t want to push him away by making him think
I was too attached to him so quickly. I didn’t want to seem
needy.

“I’m okay, you can let me go now,” I said,
although I still felt like I was falling apart inside. He slowly
released me and I reluctantly let go of him. I smiled shakily as I
looked in his eyes. “Thanks. I don’t know what happened. I think I
was trying so hard to be calm and collected through all this and
suddenly I just lost it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I
know I keep running away.”

He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled
me against his side as we walked back towards the house. “It’s your
fight or flight response. The important thing is you keep coming
back. You don’t have to be strong alone you know. As humans we look
to one another for support. If it were me do you think you would
run off and not help? It’s not a matter of a man supporting you,
Laney. It’s a friend. Man or woman, it doesn’t matter. Let me in,
let me help you.” He gave me a little squeeze as we walked up to
the back door.

I stopped at the door, not sure if I would be
able to walk through it. Glancing at Emmett, our eyes met. It would
be really sappy to say it out loud, but I knew in that moment that
he was the one. His strength gave me strength. With his support, I
could be brave. With him, I could hope. If it seemed too soon, so
be it.

As we crossed the threshold I felt the same
sense of despair and dread I felt before when I was attacked. Only
now it was stronger and seemed to come from everywhere in the
house. It was as if something was preparing for a struggle. I
looked at Emmett nervously. He nodded, “I’m right here with
you.”

Everyone was still in the living room when I
walked in with Emmett behind me. I wondered if anyone else could
sense the emanations of fear that I was feeling, but they seemed
oblivious to it. They were polite enough not to mention me running
out of the house and the crew just acted as if nothing unusual had
happened. I found a seat on the sofa next to my mother who put an
arm around me. I leaned my head on her shoulder and felt less
anxious. Why was it my mother could always make me feel like
everything was going to be all right just by being present? In
times of trouble my mom could always be counted on to give
consolation without judgment.

Emmett’s folding chair creaked as he sat and
I wondered if it would hold. The chairs looked to be a hundred
years old. They reminded me of some similar ones my old church had
when I was a child. Perhaps these actually were those chairs, my
grandfather would no doubt have gone to a sale at the church if
they’d had one.

“So we are all going to stay together
tonight. I think there’s safety in numbers,” Emmett began, shifting
again as the chair moaned.

“Where should we start?” my mother asked.

“How about we take a poll?” Connie said,
leaning forward in the recliner. “I think we should start here in
the living room since that’s where we saw our grandmother
first.”

“The living room could be a good place to
start,” my aunt agreed.

“I don’t know, Laney did make more
substantial contact up in the master bedroom as well,” Glen said,
putting his two cents in.

No one else spoke. You could hear a dog
barking outside, a lawn mower running, and birds singing in the
evening air.

“The basement,” I said, sitting up and
scooting to the edge of the couch. “I don’t want to go there, but
right now I feel it most coming from the basement.”

“What do you feel?” Glen asked.

“Ever since I’ve gotten here, I’ve felt, I
don’t know, things. It’s like emotions radiating off the walls and
floors. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I think I understand a little,” Connie said.
“I think I’ve felt a fraction of what you do. I’m only guessing but
by your reactions you seem to be sensing it a lot more than
me.”

“I don’t feel anything,” Dean said. “Could it
be just the power of suggestion? You know there’s something
unearthly here and you fill in the blanks?”

Glen agreed. “I haven’t felt anything either,
even when something untoward happens.”

“Well, I have,” Emmett said quietly, averting
his eyes. He looked up and continued. “I was there when that
presence was hovering over Laney and I felt what she’s talking
about. If it’s worse in the basement, it’s bad.”

I nodded my appreciation to Emmett and said,
“It’s different there, both worse and better. Worse because it
feels so despairing and looks so scary but better because it’s not
as ... hateful, I guess. It’s really hard to describe.”

“The basement it is,” Emmett said.

The assemblage all nodded assent, although I
noticed my mother seemed the most adverse to the plan. Glen, Dean,
and Emmett gathered themselves together and headed for the basement
to make a plan of action for the evening. My mother, aunt, Connie,
and I sat silently in the living room again, trapped with our
private thoughts and demons.