Amanda and I both
crashed as soon as we got home. Neither
of us woke up until about 7: P.M. She
was awake when I got back from the bathroom and we both wanted, needed, to
talk.
I told Amanda
everything, about the investigation, about the letters and pictures from
Charlie, about Carl Stuki, about how I had used her and Beth, about how guilty
I felt, about how sorry I was, and about how much I had grown to love her as
the dearest friend I’d ever had.
“I want to show you
everything I’ve collected and then I want to get rid of all of it, except the
picture of me and you at Charlie’s. Kind
of my way of letting go. I’ve got everything
in a couple boxes, I’ll go get them. …
If you hate me and
want to go home, I understand.”
“You go get your
boxes and while you’re gone, I want to use your computer.”
“Ok.”
Amanda got on the
computer in the den and went onto the internet while I was pulling boxes out of
the hiding place in my closet. When I
got back with the boxes. She handed me a
piece of paper she had printed off the internet.
‘Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort
of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure
words, but pouring them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together,
certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth
keeping, and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away.
George Eliot quotes (English Victorian Novelist. Pseudonym of Mary Ann
Evans, 1819-1880)’
“When I first read
this about a year ago, I decided I wanted to BE this kind of friend for
someone. I am and hope I’ll always be
this type of friend to you.”
“Thank you, that
means so much to me. I really do love
you.” We put our arms around each other
and gave each other another long hug amidst some gentle tears.
“Now, before you
show me what’s in the boxes, can I talk to you about some things. I just have to talk to somebody.”
“Sure,” We both sat
down, legs crossed, on the couch in the den.
“I didn’t want to
go home because there’s been lots of tension ever since Uncle Charlie
died. It’s hasn’t exploded yet because
of all the people going in and out, but I knew that as soon as the funeral was
over it would erupt.”
“I don’t
understand.”
“My mom hates
everything Shoshone. After I was born,
and we had to move in with my grandmother.
My mom hated it so much she left for a few years and went back to her
parents in Sicily. I think she still
loved my dad because she came back a couple years ago, but she didn’t want
anything to do with my Shoshone relatives.”
“But she married
your dad?”
“She came here to
college. She grew up watching all those
old Westerns back in Italy. I think there was something romantic about
marrying an Indian and I think it may have been even more romantic that he was
half French. Then when my dad wasn’t
working very much and we were living with my grandmother, she grew to hate
everything Indian. Maybe even me, I
don’t know, but like my dad, I’m part Indian.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t
hate you.”
“Well, I don’t
know, she at least hated part of me.
Anyway, she was furious and embarrassed that me and my dad were wearing
traditional regalia to the burial and service today.
They needed some
time to blow up and either split up or work it out. I just didn’t want to be there, and I think
it was better for them to be alone.”
“Oh, wow, I never
dreamed there were problems between your parents. I guess I’m kind-a lucky. No matter what’s happened over the years, so
many problems with T.J., the business falling apart and them going bankrupt, me
giving them such a hard time, I’ve never worried about them splitting up. Sometimes they argue, but they just always
work it out.”
“You’re lucky.”
“Yeah… I guess so. It’s something else I guess I’ve never really
thought about; but I guess you’re right.
I’m glad they’ve always been able to work through stuff. So… do you want your mom to stay?”
“I don’t want the tension.
… It’s not all my mom’s fault. … I guess I want them both to grow up enough to
work it out. … If they can do that, yeah, I’d want my mom to stay.”
“I hope that’s what
happens then.”
“Thanks, me too.”
“Can I ask you
another question?”
“Sure, anything.”
“What’s going on
with Tom??? He’s been following you
around like a lost puppy.”
“I’m not interested;
besides, I don’t even think he really likes me.
I think he likes D’Lisa but she scares him. She’s
not shy ya know.”
I laughed and
responded; “Yeah, I know; but ya gotta love her!”
“Yeah, she’s great!”
“Maybe we should
fix things for them.”
“I don’t know, I
kind-a think things will work out on their own.”
“OK, we can wait
and see… for a while,” I replied with a grin. Now, let’s go through the boxes.”
Everything was
arranged chronologically, and we started at the beginning with me pulling out
the first articles and pictures I found on the internet. I was staring at one of the first pictures I
found of the Lings and after a long pause, Amanda interrupted my fixation.
“Every time you
look at a picture of the Lings, you seem to drift off. Especially that one at Uncle Charlie’s … by
the way. … Sorry I didn’t believe you
about it being the Lings. I still don’t
understand.”
“Don’t worry about
it. I’m sorry I even thought you might
be lying about how long it had been there.
None of it makes any sense. … Sometimes I just think about them,
especially about Tye, I wonder what it would have been like to have known him. I wonder where he is. … NOT that I’m
obsessed or anything… I‘ve just built him up in my mind so much I could
probably never settle for anyone less.”
“Sooo, do you dream
about him?” asked Amanda with a big grin.
“Yeah! lots; but I
don’t think I really want to talk about it anymore, remember I’m getting rid of
all this stuff. I still feel like I’m
partially to blame for Charlie’s death.
I just don’t even want to think about any of it anymore.”
“Well, none of it
is your fault and I’m sure Uncle Charlie wouldn’t think so either.”
“Thanks. … that’s
what my dad thought too, but I still feel horrible.
Ok! …… The next
section’s from the library.”
“You spread it all
out, I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”
“Ok, I’ll have it
all ready. Do you remember where the bathroom is? It looks like there’s a light
on in the kitchen.”
“Yep, I
remember. Be right back.”
I laid out all my
notes from the library and the strange drawing I had copied, all on the
floor. After a minute or two, T.J. came
wondering into the den.
“T.J., what are you
doing down here?” I demanded.
“I have to pee and
someone’s in the bathroom.”
“Just turn around
and go back to the kitchen and wait.
Amanda will be right out;” I demanded again.
“Hey! That’s my picture!”
“T.J., what are you
talking about. You’re half asleep.”
“That’s my picture
on the floor.” T.J. pointed to the
drawing of the four stones I had copied from the library. “It was in the book behind the rock… and it’s
mine. I found it!!!”
No comments:
Post a Comment