Touchdown (23 page)

“Well I didn't tell him to—”

“Goldie. He loves you. He would do anything for you, even—”

“Even what? Join me in hell?”

Her mother nodded. “He deserves better, Goldie. Charlie may have had his faults, but he was a very good man. A hero. He should be on the highest level of Unity instead of . . . ”

“Instead of putting his eternal soul in jeopardy over me. I get it, Ma. Trying to guilt me, even when we're dead. What do you want from me?”

Her mother shook her head. “You must look deeply into your soul and do the right thing. Time is running out. If not for yourself, then for Charlie.”

“Ma, I'm helping Avner. I'm watching out for Daddy. I've always put Mindy's needs before my own. And I love Charlie—”

Before Goldie could finish, her mother disappeared.

The mission. “What on earth is my fakakteh mission?” Goldie sighed. She watched Clay sleeping on the train, and she thought about the past few days.

“You didn't wait for me,” Charlie had said. But how could I if I needed to help the baby?

“Stop thinking about you,” her mother had said. But she'd always put Mindy's needs before her own. Hadn't she?

Clay had called her “obnoxious and impossible.”

“I'll love you forever,” Charlie had said. I love him, too, Goldie thought. But what did it all mean?

Goldie had never thought this much in her life. I feel like my head is going to explode, she decided. How am I supposed to complete this mission when I don't even know what I'm supposed to do?

She needed to rest. She closed her eyes and remembered that time in her previous life.

“Mindy? Have you completed your homework, yet?” she found herself calling. She was holding a newspaper and sitting in a living room. It looked like a three bedroom ranch, decorated as if it was around mid-century. Goldie glanced at the paper—the date read 1962. She peeked out the window . . . it all seemed so familiar . . .

“Yes, Mother.”

Goldie heard a voice and a girl appeared. She was pretty, looked a lot like Charlie. She had long black hair pushed back with a wide headband, a strong chin, athletic. She wore a short skirt and boots. But her eyes . . . Goldie knew those eyes. They were her baby sister's eyes—that Mindy's eyes.

“You aren't going out with the fellow anymore, right?” she found herself saying.

“Well, uh, Mother, actually—”

“You're a senior in high school. The world is changing and I expect great things from you!”

“Right. I know that, but—”

“No buts. I'm not going to be around here forever, you know, and I need to know that you are prepared. So you study hard and when you go off to college—”

“Mother. That's what I'm trying to tell you. I . . . I love him.”

“Who?”

“Jack.”

“Jack who?”

“Jack. The lifeguard? From the club? I told you that.”

Goldie's eyes widened. “What? Benny's boy?”

Mindy nodded. “He asked me to marry him!”

Goldie stared at her daughter. “Are you crazy? Ugh, Mindy, he'll be just like his father—he won't amount to much. Please, darling, this is ridiculous!”

“But Mother!” Mindy raised her voice. “We love each other!”

“Love?” Goldie shook her head. “Now what on earth does that have to do with anything?”

In her memories, the doorbell rang and Goldie went to get it.

“Mrs. Wisse, I just came to tell Mindy that—”

“I'm sorry, Jack, but Mindy doesn't want to see you anymore,” she said.

“What?”

Goldie shook her head. “I expect great things from my Mindy. You aren't going to hold her back.”

Jack stood back, his face suddenly pale. “But we love each other, Mrs. Wisse.”

“My daughter doesn't need love,” she said.

“How can you say that? You want to marry her off to some rich . . . ”

Goldie glanced at the family portrait framed on her credenza and thought about her husband, Alfred. “No, I wouldn't do that to her. But she'll be a somebody—you'll see! And I can't let someone like you distract her from her life's mission,” she said.

“Look,” Jack said, suddenly trying another tactic. “I've been drafted. I'll be shipping off to Vietnam.”

“You're shipping off to war?” Goldie froze. “All the more reason to leave my daughter alone. Good luck.”

Jack tried to argue but Goldie shut the door on him.

It was only then she realized where she'd seen his eyes before. They were Avner's.

Clay had reached Brenda's Boutique when Leigh called. A cute little puppy wagged its tail as Clay got the phone.

“Clay, Evan called me and says your parents have been impossible since you took off. He wants you to come home.”

“You can't do that, Clay,” Goldie pleaded. “Not yet. Not when my sister's life is in danger.”

Clay swallowed. He felt like he was being pulled in so many directions. “What do you think I should do?” he asked Leigh.

“It's up to you,” she said. “I don't know how long you want to keep this joke—or whatever this is—going but everybody's worried about you.”

“Is that it?”

“No, there's more—good news. Evan said the cops aren't after you anymore. There was no pot in the bag after all. Thomas Booth admitted he set it all up as a prank. It just went too far.”

Clay let out a deep sigh. “So that's it? I'm all clear?”

“Looks like it,” Leigh reassured him. “Now there's nothing standing between you getting into the pros.”

“Except if I get picked or not.”

“Minor point. But you know what? Even if you don't get drafted you'll always be a hero to me.”

“Thank you, Leigh, that means a lot to me.”

 

Leigh paused. “Carolyn's told everyone you're going with her to the party at Austin's. Is that true, Clayton?”

“Leigh, look, I had to say yes because—” Clay started.

“I think you should never, ever call me again.” Leigh hung up the phone before Clay could say another word.

He shook his head and rapped on the door to Brenda's Boutique. He'd have to make this up to Leigh—big-time.

“Don't worry, Clay,” Goldie said quietly. “It will work out. You belong together.”

Chumie answered the door to the boutique. “What do you want? A dress for the lady in your life?” She stared at Clay, and her eyes darkened. “I see who you're with,” she said. “Get out of here! Both of you!”

The skies darkened and a dozen dogs started barking all around Clay.

“You'll have to do better than that,” Clay said and shook his head. “I'm not afraid of dogs.” He held out his hand, and a huge Doberman pinscher licked him.

Chumie raised her hands and then suddenly Clay thought he saw his teammates in front of him in middle of Central Avenue. A big Mack truck was driving straight at them.

He felt like running and pushing them out of the way of the oncoming truck. Focus, he told himself. No way his team could be there; this woman was somehow playing tricks on his mind.

He didn't flinch. “You can't marry that boy. You can't marry Avner,” he said firmly.

“Yes, I can,” she said. “And I will.” She waved her hand, and the teammates disappeared. In their place stood the image of Leigh.

Leigh was dressed for bed in a long white nightgown, her curly red hair flowing down her back and framing her face, which was red with tears. “How could you, Clay? How could you break my heart like that?”

“Leigh, I didn't mean to. I just . . . ” he said.

“It's over between us.”

“No, it's not, Clay,” Goldie encouraged him. “Leigh wouldn't say that. It's that witch of a woman playing tricks on you. Don't believe her.”

Clay stared at the vision of Leigh before him. “Don't say that, Leigh.”

“You tell her, Clay.” Goldie was on a roll.

Leigh folded her arms. “You're a weak puppet of a man. You mean nothing to me. You're a sore loser. And I hate you.”

Clay tapped his foot impatiently. He tried to drown out the words . . . but what if they were true? “So that's it? Everything up in smoke because—”

“You let me down.”

“I'm sorry.” Focus.

“Focus, Clay,” Goldie cheered.

“Apologies mean nothing to me. I hate you, Clayton Harper.”

Focus. “Even if you might feel angry with me, I know it's not true. You don't hate me. You love me, and I love you.” Focus!

As the image of Leigh disappeared, Chumie reappeared. “You're a liar! I don't know how you're doing this but Leigh would never hurt me!” Clay shouted and rushed toward her.

Chumie locked the glass door between her and Clay.

“That's it? A door? Can't you do better than that?”

Chumie exhaled. “Oh, I sure can,” she said, then lifted her hands. Suddenly, the dark clouds opened up and golf-sized balls of hail pelted Clay, hard.

Clay let them bounce off his chest as he faced Chumie.

Chumie bared her crooked teeth in a sinister smile.

A ball of hail hit him in the eye and momentarily knocked him out. When he looked up, she was gone.

“Now what?” Clay muttered to Goldie.

“Chumie will always go for the jugular. She'll try to hurt Mindy but she'll do it under cover, where she'll be safe from you.”

“You mean she'll go into hiding?”

“Yes. And if I know Chumie, she'll hide out in the one place she thinks I'd never go.”

“What's that?”

“Why, a thrift shop, of course.”

Goldie's mother appeared again.

“What now?” Goldie was annoyed. “I'm trying to catch that witch and I still have one day left.”

“Goldie, sweetie, you have longer than that if you want. I checked out your case with upstairs. You were supposed to have seventy years and the football player—he was supposed to die that night. Your cases were mixed up.”

Goldie swallowed. “Are you serious? Charlie had told me my time was up.”

“I know he thought that—he got the date right, but he didn't know the year was off.”

She nodded.

“Does this mean Clay and I can hang out together until we complete my seventy years?”

Judy shook her head. “No. That's against nature. Only one soul in a body is allowed. And hovering near by is also not an option. As your body is no longer viable, this boy's body will get your seventy years and tomorrow the tribunal will be judging a soul.”

Goldie swallowed. “So one of our souls has to be there.”

Judy nodded. “I know you hadn't planned to live a life in this Clay fellow's body, but that's the situation. Either way—it's your choice.

Her mother disappeared, and Goldie sighed. A choice? What kind of choice was that? She could live out her life in Clay's body—she'd get to keep her eye on her loved ones and enjoy many years of this world—but her happiness would mean Clay's demise. How could she do that to him? But he seemed ambivalent about his life, anyway, so would that be wrong? And what about Leigh? Clay loved her, Goldie was sure of it. Didn't they deserve to be happy together? Goldie slowly exhaled. She had many choices. She always did. She needed to remember her past, her dreams, to understand it all. And figure out what was missing from her mission. Charlie's eternal soul was at stake, and so was hers.

In her memories, she walked slowly to the kitchen, where the nurse was preparing Mindy's medication. The TV was on—an old, big boxy type—and a soap opera was on. Goldie glanced at the show and guessed that it was the late 1980s, as the actors on the soap were younger versions from the same show she'd watched with her own mom years later, before her mom got sick.

“Judy, is it done? I want to take it to her.”

“Just a sec,” she said and turned around. “I'm happy to give it to her.”

Goldie froze. She was staring at her own mother, when she was young. She worked for that Goldie years ago? And she was happy? She couldn't recall ever seeing her mother smile when she was alive. Wait, no, she had smiled—a lot—before her depression set in after she gave birth to her kid sister—

“When is Allen getting in today?” she found herself asking. Allen? Her father?

“He's here—out back—he's fixing the leak.”

Goldie nodded. “I saw him staring at you the other day. I think he's quite fond of you,” she said.

Judy laughed. “He's a great guy.”

“Yes, Allen is sweet, but not very practical,” Goldie sniffed. “Well, you aren't my daughter. But if you were, I'd tell you to marry a man for security. No sense imprisoning yourself for love.”

Judy laughed. “I'm glad then you're not my mother! Anyway, we've been dating a while and he still hasn't popped the question.”

Goldie pursed her lips. “Well, what's he waiting for?”

Judy shrugged as she finished placing all of Mindy's medications in the correct doses on her tray with a drink and a bowl of soup. “His sister told me he's saving money to buy me a ring!”

“A ring? You can't live off of a ring.”

Judy smiled. “I'm not worried. We'll figure it out together. At this point, he's my best friend in the whole world.”

“Well . . . ” Goldie said in a sanctimonious tone. “Can't see how it'll last.”

Judy interrupted; she clearly had practice dealing with this old, bitter woman. “I'd be happy for as long as it lasts,” she said decidedly. “It's all more than I have now—it's all a gift.”

Goldie nodded and looked out the window. “Can't say I ever saw it that way.”

Judy picked up the tray. “So do you want to bring it to her or should I?”

Goldie took the tray to her daughter and sat beside her. Mindy lay in her bed and all the medical apparatus that had cluttered her room the past year were already gone, save for ample amounts of morphine to get Mindy through the worst of her pain.