EVERYTHING WAS LYING ON THE BED in the motel room—the suitcase, the bag, and the journal. Jenny held a copy of the picture Uncle Bobby had brought from the police station. She had been staring at it for a long time. She looked at the other picture they had gotten from Magdalena. This was how she wanted to remember her mother—alive and holding her close.
“Once we confirmed that the woman in the coroner’s report photo and the woman from our snapshot were the same woman, Bill Martin turned all this stuff over to us,” Bobby said, nodding toward the suitcase and bag on the bed. “They were glad to clear out some space and close out one of their cold cases.”
Jenny looked at Reuben. “It’s so sad that someone’s life comes down to a suitcase and a bag on a motel room bed.” She sighed deeply. From the moment she had seen the coroner’s picture of her mother and known for sure that Rachel was dead, she felt a strange heaviness come over her, and her shoulders started aching. A slight headache throbbed behind her eyes. She felt detached and isolated from everyone in the room, as though they were all strangers.
She lifted the bag and set it on the dresser by the bed. It was made of canvas with two handles and a zipper. Slowly she pulled the zipper and looked inside. A familiar face stared up at her. She couldn’t connect for a moment, but then it came to her in a rush.
“Bear!” she exclaimed. “Bear!”
Jenny reached into the bag and pulled out an old brown teddy bear. One of the button eyes was missing, and there was a tear on one of the seams, but it was Bear. Her bear. He had comforted her when she had been afraid, staying close to her in the darkest nights. She turned to the three men who were watching her.
“This is Bear,” she said slowly. “Except for my mother, he was my closest friend. I don’t know how I know that, but I do.”
Jenny held the old bear close. Despite the slight musty smell, there was another fragrance she remembered, one that had comforted her at night so long ago. Memories began to flow in her mind. She was in a rocking chair with her mother and Bear, and there was a red-haired man with them, and everything felt right and good. The man’s face was kind, and he was looking at her with love in his eyes. Who was he? Was he Robert? Jenny felt as if she had opened the lid of an old chest in an attic and found…what?
She dug farther into the bag to find a child’s underwear, a small flowered T-shirt, and two small dresses. At the bottom was a plastic zipper bag. Slowly she examined the contents—a small comb, a brush, a bar of soap, a washcloth, and a toothbrush. She felt a deep sadness and a yearning she couldn’t express.
For some reason, thoughts of her mother brought Jerusha to her mind. Suddenly Jenny wanted to just go home and crawl up in her mama’s lap and sit for hours wrapped in Jerusha’s arms. Those arms had always been her refuge and her strong tower of safety. Now she felt confused and defenseless. Tears began to run down her face.
“I didn’t think it would be this hard, Papa,” Jenny said.
Reuben came behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m here, dochter,” he said. “It’s all right. We’ve been led to this place by du lieber Gott, and now, with His help, we will be able to put to rest the questions you’ve carried for so long. He is doing this for the good of us all.”
Jenny sighed. “You’re right, Papa,” she said, “but I feel so strange…so anxious.”
“You’re grieving, Jenny,” Jonathan said quietly.
“Grieving?” Jenny asked.
“Yes,” Jonathan answered. “Grieving shows up in a lot of different ways—physically, emotionally, even spiritually. But it’s good. You need to go through it.”
I’m grieving! Of course I am.
She picked up the journal her mother had kept. She had put it aside while Bobby and Jonathan had been at the police station, not able to read more, fearing she might read something she really didn’t want to know. Now she turned to the second entry and began to read it.
“Would it be too hard for you to read it out loud?” Jonathan asked gently.
“Of course not,” Jenny said. “I’m sorry, I know you all want to hear it.”
She began to read out loud.
April 24, 1950. This morning I took the streetcar from the hotel to Fifth Avenue to see Robert’s parents at the address he had given me. It was difficult to find, but I finally got to the house. It’s enormous! It sits right across from a big park. The streetcar man said the name of the park is Central Park. My heart was beating when I went up to the door. There was a big knocker, so I knocked on that, and after a while a young woman in a black and white uniform came and answered the door. I told her who I was and who Jenny was and that I wanted to see Robert’s parents. She looked very surprised. She told me to wait and closed the door.
After a while another young woman came to the door. She said her name was Augusta, and she asked me what I wanted. I told her who I was and she smiled a strange smile at me. I asked if I could see Robert’s parents, but she was very cold and suspicious. She told me that Robert’s father had died shortly after he heard about Robert, and his mother was in seclusion and would not see anyone. I told her about Jenny, and she just laughed. She said that I was just another fortune hunter who had heard about the family’s tragedy and wanted to cash in. She told me to go away, and then she closed the door in my face. I knocked again, but no one came.
After a while I went back to the hotel. Tomorrow I will take the proof and show her.
“Robert, that was his name—the red-haired man. I think remember him,” Jenny said softly. She read on.
April 25, 1950. Today I took the papers and went back to the house with Jenny. Instead of a girl in a uniform, a big man in a black suit answered the door. He told me that Miss Augusta had warned him that I would be coming back, and he told me to go away. I begged him to let me see Robert’s mother, but he told me if I didn’t go away he would call the police. Then he closed the door. I knocked and knocked. After a while a car pulled up in front of the house and two men got out. They didn’t say anything to me. They just put me in the car and drove away from the house. Finally one of them asked me where I lived. I told him the name of the hotel and they took me there. When I got out they warned me that if I went back to the house I would be arrested and put in jail. Robert! Why did you leave me? I need you!
May 5, 1950. For the past week I’ve been trying to call Robert’s mother, but every time I get the house, whoever answers hangs up on me. Finally yesterday they told me that they knew where I was staying, and if I ever called again, they would send the police and take my little girl away and put me in jail. My money is almost all gone, and the man at the hotel told me I have one more day to pay him.
God, why have you abandoned me in this horrible place? I feel so hopeless. I wish I had listened to Daddy. I miss them all so much, but I can never go home. What can I do?
May 6, 1950. Today something frightening happened. While I went to a restaurant with Jenny to get something to eat, someone came into my room. It was very odd because the door wasn’t broken and the windows were locked. I knew someone came in because all of Robert’s papers were gone. I have the most important ones hidden though, and they didn’t find them. I think that the woman, Augusta, sent someone to my room to make sure I couldn’t prove anything. I had my diary in my purse, so they didn’t get it, but I’m going to take the pages about Robert out and hide them too. Maybe I can still find a way to see Robert’s mother.
Jenny noticed there was one more entry. The handwriting wasn’t as smooth, and the ink was smeared as though it had gotten wet.
May 10, 1950. I’ve been out on the streets since the two men came with the hotel man and put me out. I’ve been sleeping under the stairs behind an apartment building. Today I met a man named Joe. He said he would let us stay in his apartment and that he would help me to
The letters faded away. The pen had run out of ink. It was the last entry in the book. Jenny threw herself on the bed and began to sob. Jonathan and Bobby looked awkwardly out the window while her papa sat beside the bed and patted her shoulder. After a while she composed herself and sat up.
“I’m sorry,” Jenny said.
“You’re allowed,” Jonathan said.
“Well,” Jenny said, “my mother said she hid something from this Augusta woman. She probably didn’t hide it at the hotel because she knew she was going to leave. So if it’s not gone forever, perhaps it’s here.”
Jenny got up, pulled herself together, and picked up the suitcase. It was an old leather one that looked as if it had been part of a set. She had seen others like this in catalogs. Usually there was another, bigger suitcase and a steamer trunk. She opened the suitcase. It was lined with a flowered material and smelled musty, like an attic. There were straps to hold the clothes, and along both sides were pockets with elastic along the top. Jenny looked through the things inside. There were some clothes, an old magazine from 1950, a brush and comb, and a few other odds and ends. There was nothing else in the suitcase.
Jenny started to close the lid, but Jonathan stopped her. “My mother had a suitcase like this. It was part of her luggage set. She used it when she and my father took trips.”
“I thought it looked like part of one of those sets,” Jenny said. “I’ve seen pictures in a catalog.”
“This one has a special feature,” Jonathan said. “There’s a hidden compartment. Jonathan lifted up the two side pockets and pushed his fingers underneath. Hidden behind them on both sides were two fabric loops attached to the bottom of the suitcase. Jonathan slipped his fingers into the loops and pulled upward. The whole bottom of the suitcase lifted out to reveal a small compartment underneath. In the compartment were two envelopes.
Lying on top of them was a picture. It was her mother with a handsome, well-dressed man who was holding her close. They were both looking at the camera and smiling. Jenny’s mother was obviously pregnant. Jonathan took the first envelope out of the hiding place and opened it. He pulled out a sheaf of papers. They were the same size as the journal.
“The missing pages,” Bobby said.
Jonathan opened the second envelope and took out the papers inside. He unfolded them and showed them to Jenny.
Jenny gasped. The first one was a birth certificate dated January 6, 1947. The name on the certificate was Jennifer Constance St. Clair. It was from a hospital in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. There was a tiny footprint. The names of the parents were written on the certificate. Robert William St. Clair and Rachel Mary St. Clair. Her parents! There it was, right before her eyes. The second document was a marriage license. It was dated September 14, 1946. There were two names—Robert William St. Clair and Rachel Mary Borntraeger.
“Papa, isn’t Borntraeger an Amish name!” Jenny exclaimed.