PART TWO

Chapter 13

As the bus loaded, Kage contemplated getting off. Would that make Gracie happy? Would that make him happy? The bus doors closing settled his dilemma.

The gentle vibration of the bus’s motor eased Kage into a light slumber. Outside the bus window, in a matter of a few hours, homes grew and multiplied. The buildings flaunted extravagant gold letters, large with business names. People on the streets sported scarves and hats for flair.

“Final stop!” the bus driver called out. Kage awakened to sounds of the city. From his pocket, Kage pulled the paper with Pearl’s address scratched on it, stepped off the bus and headed in the direction he thought was the way toward Pearl’s place.

He picked up his pace when he spotted the Old School Apartments—once a boarding school. Someone had roughly painted over the S and L on the sign and added another ‘choo’, now reading ‘choo choo Apartments’. With the L&N rattling through its backyard, the compromised name fit. Climbing the first set of stairs led him directly to Apartment A21. He double-checked the number on the wrinkled piece of paper and knocked. Locks fumbled and clicked, then the door swung open.

“Ben!” Pearl exclaimed, nearly tackling him. “Let me look at you!” She pushed him back an arm’s length. Then she placed her hands on his cheeks. “You’re a handsome man. You got Daddy’s eyes, and I can’t believe it, Mama’s dimple on your left cheek. Oh, look at you, little brother!” Pearl exclaimed, “You’re a man. I can’t believe it!”

Kage had seen a picture of his mother, and Pearl looked nothing like her. Pearl’s hair was blonde and didn’t match her dark eyebrows. Her long red fingernails grasped his chin. Wrinkles edged her eyes. With the dark eye shadow, she looked older than her mid-thirties.

“So, this is your place?” Kage glanced around the modest room permeated by Pearl’s floral scented perfume.

“It is as long as I pay the rent.” Pearl lit a cigarette and with the first puff its tip reddened to match her fingernails. “Go ahead,” she insisted, tossing the cigarette pack to him.

He placed the unfiltered Pall Mall to his lips instantly tasting its bitter tobacco tang against his tongue, lit it and took a series of weak puffs.

“You look like you’re giving it kisses. You ain’t a smoker?”

She took another deep puff, and he noticed the wrinkles around her lips.

“Here, watch.” Pearl sucked in, held it for several seconds and then released, curling her lips to control the ascending smoke.

Kage tried the same, and coughed.

She took the cigarette from his hand and put it out in the ash tray. “You can sleep on that couch,” she pointed across the room, “until you find a place.” She nodded, “Kitchen there, bathroom that way.”

Pearl’s phone rang. “Yeah,” she answered, releasing another puff from the cigarette wobbling between her lips. “What time?” she snapped, her voice raspy.

Kage picked up a photo of Pearl and a man wearing a Dallas Cowboys hat.

She grabbed it out of his hand and tossed it in the trash. “Been meaning to get rid of that. Gotta go into work. Someone didn’t show.”

“You really got to go?”

“You’re welcome to make yourself at home. We can talk later.” Pearl poured out her cup of coffee and stepped into the bedroom.

“You seen our brothers lately?” Kage asked, too curious to wait.

Pearl’s toothbrush now dangled from her lips, as she stepped from her room. “Not lately.” She squinted. “Guess it’s been two years. Before that, I guess it was when daddy died.”

“What are they like?” Kage fidgeted with the change in his pocket.

Pearl held the palm of her hand up indicating to pause the conversation and disappeared into the bathroom. Returning with her mascara brush in hand, she said, “Well, they’re mean for the most part. Not so much Cecil. He was my buddy growin’ up.” She pulled on a grease-stained Town Tavern sweatshirt over her T-shirt. “When Mama died, and they took you, Beth Ann, and Ruby away, we’d go to the cellar and cry.”

“Beth Ann and Ruby always said nice things about Cecil. Said he was a lot like Mama.” Kage had said the word mama so few times that it felt odd.

“Yep, that’s it. How are they—Beth Ann and Ruby?” Pearl asked, sounding more as if she were asking about his family than her own.

“Ain’t seen ‘em since they were old enough to leave the orphanage. You seen them?”

“Not since Dad’s funeral.”

“They were there?”

“Yep, sorry Ben. The orphanage had closed up, and no one knew where you’d run off to.” She dashed past Kage to grab her purse. “Beth Ann and Ruby told us about you, well what they could remember, and the preacher said a prayer for you. Listen, I gotta run, but we’ll talk tonight.”

Pearl rushed out the door, then turned back. “Glad you’re here.”

Before the door fully clicked shut, Kage dialed the phone. Gracie answered on the first ring, her voice sweeter than he’d remembered.

“What’s Louisville like?”

“Nothing like Ridgewood …”

Gracie interrupted, “Anyone on the bus stumble over your foot and meet your right hook this time?”

“You’re funny,” Kage laughed. He already missed her. He asked questions about her day and anything he could think of just to listen to her talk. Aware of his limited funds and the cost of a long-distance call, Kage promised to call her again soon and reluctantly said goodbye.

Kage overlooked the purple floral embroidered curtains and imagined Pearl’s place was his own. He pictured bringing Gracie there and seeing her delight as he promised her a future in their new home. Pearl’s simple apartment provided two basic rooms, one a bedroom and bath and the other a small sitting area and kitchen. Yet to make ends meet, she worked two jobs, six days a week at the hotel and five nights a week at a local lounge. Kage wrestled in his mind with the picture he’d painted for Gracie in the park before he left, wondering if he could be that man for her—considering even his own father hadn’t been able to care for his family.

Kage flipped through the phonebook, thinking about where he might find a job. He stopped at a name scribbled on the top corner of a page—Cecil Kage. Even though he didn’t recognize the area code, he dialed the phone, taking in a long, deep breath, just to hear the number was disconnected.

* * *

Wrapped in her grandmother’s tattered, hand-quilted blanket, Gracie rested in the porch swing, envisioning how many hours it must have taken her grandmother to sew the detailed stitching. The brisk night air reminded her of when she and Kage had first walked together, getting to know bits and pieces about one another. That had been the Kage she didn’t know. The night air also reminded her of when she had met him outside of the Carters’ place—the night a connection had been made—the night Gracie knew she would never feel the same about life again. She had found comfort in Kage’s arms, a security like none she had ever known before. “Kage …” she whispered, “will you please come back?” Gracie looked up at the stars, feeling he was as distant.

She imagined being by Kage’s side when he met his sister, creating her own fairy tale. She pretended the quilt around her shoulders was an expensive wool coat—Kage’s—and the smoke from the chimney belonged instead to the Belle of Louisville.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her grandfather coughing, then gagging. She stumbled over the quilt and ran inside. Grabbing his elbow, she led him to his bed.

“Cold,” he mumbled, his forehead shimmered with sweat like the condensation on the windows.

“You’re cold?” Gracie asked, taking his moist hand. He pointed to the quilt she dragged in behind her. Gracie covered him from toe to chin, just as Marilee had done for her when she was little.

* * *

“I wouldn’t have bothered you, but, the sheets, they’re soaked.” Gracie’s words tumbled out as Dr. Laben rushed through the front door.

Dr. Laben pointed to the car and asked, “Can you get the wheel chair out?”

The wind hit Gracie’s face like a slap, as she stepped outside toward Dr. Laben’s car for the wheelchair, while Dr. Laben took a look at her grandfather. Gracie opened the car door, knowing that getting the wheelchair out wasn’t going to be easy for her. Nothing about this was going to be easy. She’d never seen her grandfather like this before.

“I’m taking him.” Dr. Laben said as he forced Thomas to swallow several pills.

“To the hospital?”

“Yes, we’ve got to get this fever down.”

“Can I go?”

“Help me wrap him up in these blankets.”

Gracie didn’t have a fever, but her hand was damp and shook like her grandfather’s.

“How long has he been like this?”

“A couple of hours, maybe.”

“What has he eaten?”

“Some soup, a few crackers, a sip or two of cider.”

“Can you find his house shoes?”

Gracie reached under the bed. “Here. Is he going to be okay?”

For the first time since Dr. Laben rushed into their house, he paused to look at Gracie. “I sure hope so.”

“Can I come?” Gracie asked again.

Dr. Laben motioned for her to take hold of Thomas on his other side and help sit him up. “I’m not much help,” Gracie admitted. She awkwardly did her best using her left hand and chest to push him up, as they prepared to move him into the wheelchair.

Gracie balanced her body against her grandfather as they pulled him from the bed. “I’m coming,” she grunted, releasing him into the chair.

“I didn’t think I could talk you out of it.” Dr. Laben pointed at a picture of Marilee and shook his finger at it and then at Gracie. “You’ve got more than just your grandmother’s smile.”