Fallout (Joshua Stokes Mysteries Book 2) (9 page)

There were probably at least sixty of us children there all totaled… most of the funding came from the church or nice people that was able to donate food and clothing. Most of the younger children were taken in by families or quickly adopted, but not Anna and me. We were like sisters by the time we left there, and even though we had lost our families, we were luckier than some were. She and I both got a job at the courthouse as stenographers. I married a lawyer she married your father. I’m sure you know the rest.”

Joshua could not believe it. What she had just told him was
more
than anyone else ever had.

“So, you’re the quiet little boy that sat right there in that chair,” she pointed to a settee by the front door. “You never moved or spoke the entire time your mother and I visited. The only time I ever saw you smile was when we walked down to the bay and you played in the waters edge. Would you care for a cup of tea,” the woman asked.

Joshua realized he did not even know the woman’s name. The tea also reminded him of his dreams and visions. “Yes ma’am that would be me, and yes, tea sounds good; I’d like that very much, Mrs.…”

“Please, do forgive my manners!” she exclaimed. “My name is Vivian Bradley. It was Vivian Powell before I married.” Joshua briefly wondered if she were kin to Kathy.

“Do you mind if we sit outside, I’d like to smoke?”

“Oh no, I do not mind at all, Mr. Stokes; as a matter of fact, I will most likely join you,” she chuckled. Georgia, who Joshua assumed was a servant, had finished cleaning up the broken cup. “Georgia, would you please serve tea on the back veranda for Mr. Stokes and myself please,” Georgia responded with a ’yes’um’ “Thank you Georgia,” Vivian said, and as she led Joshua to the back veranda, she leaned over and whispered, “You get more out of them with politeness than issuing orders all the time.”

“Please ma’am, just call me Joshua, everyone else does.”

“What is it you do for a living, Mist-ah, Joshua - did you go into the same business as your dad?”

“No ma’am. I am the Sheriff of this county - have been for over twenty years.”

“The Sheriff,” Vivian exclaimed. “That is a very big job I would imagine… how is your father, is he still living?”

Joshua wondered why she hesitated when asking.

“No ma’am. My father died when I was eighteen.”

“It is a shame about your mother. I never did believe that she just ran off. That is not something Anna would have done. She would never have left you; you were her entire world. After what happened to her family - she just never would have!

Anna was distraught over losing her siblings. She tried everything to find out who adopted them. She always figured that someone from the reservation adopted them but the records were sealed and she never found a trace of them.”

“The Reservation?”

“Yes, Anna’s father was a Creek from Poarch, Alabama. I
think
her mother was white, but from somewhere up that way. She said they had always lived on the reservation, at least until her father drank himself to death. From what she said, her mother met up with and then moved to Eight Mile Bluff with some man she met at the Piggly Wiggly. Shortly afterward, Anna’s mother had a miscarriage and then she hemorrhaged for several months. They did not know what they were doing back then. Anna said they operated on her and the poor thing went into shock and died. She said the doctors said it was uterine cancer. That was at the old City Hospital here in Mobile.

The man her mother was living with did not want anything to do with the children. That was why your mother and her siblings were camped out at the hospital with their mother. For some reason, Anna never wanted to go back to the reservation… When her mother died, they were sent to the orphanage.”

Georgia came with the tea tray. Joshua smiled at the little tea cakes and sandwiches-he remembered those from his childhood. Georgia poured their tea and set a saucer in front of them for their cakes and sandwiches. Joshua lit a cigarette and sipped on the tea.

“Aren’t you going to eat, Sheriff?”

“Maybe in a minute; I needed a cigarette to process all you just told me. My grandparents - my father’s family, did not know anything about my mother. After she disappeared, my father never spoke of her… he even put away all the photographs of her. As it stands right now, I cannot-I can’t remember her face.”

“That must have been terrible for you, dear; you were so young. I have several photographs of your mother and me, taken at the orphanage, several from when we were working at the courthouse, and our wedding photographs. We were each others maid of honor-- wait right here” Vivian said as she stood and walked inside.

Joshua’s brain was reeling. Why could he not remember coming there with his mother until then… had he blocked memories of his mother, and if so, why? Vivian returned carrying a photo album that she laid on the table between them.

“Scoot your chair around here by me,” Vivian instructed. He did as told, and she opened the book. On the first page was a picture of three Indian children.

“This is your mother,” Vivian said, pointing at the tallest of the children “and her brother and sister.” Joshua looked closely at the photograph. He vaguely remembered seeing it before. His mother looked to be eleven or twelve; the other two children appeared to be twins, probably four or five years old.

“I thought you said her brother and sister?”

“Yes, you can’t tell by the clothing - one is a boy, the other a girl.”

“Oh… I see,” he said slowly, although he could not tell much difference between them; they both wore dresses.

“Boys younger than school age often wore dresses back in those days,” Vivian said. “Look at their hair - his is just a little shorter,” she turned the page. On the next page was a picture of two girls, both about twelve. One was the older girl from the first picture and the other was a blonde-headed girl.

“Is this you and Annaleigh?” Joshua asked. He could not bring himself to call the young girl in the picture his mother.

“Yes, it is. They took that picture the same day as the others. The orphanage took these photos to show to couples seeking to adopt. At least they tried to get us adopted. The sisters that ran the orphanage were leery of letting girls our age be adopted though. Mostly they taught us how to cook and clean, and gave us a good education. About the only time a girl our age was adopted was when widows or spinsters wanted to adopt someone to help them out around the house.

By the time she and I were sixteen, we were both working at the courthouse; the orphanage was only a short walks distance.” Vivian turned to the next page. On this page, the two teenage girls were standing in front of the courthouse; they wore mid-calf length skirts and knit sweaters. Their hair was bobbed short and he could tell they were older.

“This was taken about 1921,” Vivian smiled. “It was the first day of our new jobs as stenographers; we were so proud of ourselves. Anna kept a journal with all her family’s information in it, such as her parent’s names and that of their parents. She thought if she worked at the courthouse that eventually she could get a look at the adoption records of her brother and sister. That would not be the case. She met your father when he came home from fighting in the war. He had come to the courthouse to document his return and register his honorable discharge from the army.

He struck up a conversation with her at the vendor’s cart outside.” Vivian smiled again. “Your mother was instantly infatuated. Who could blame her? Your father was a handsome man; he was tall, charming. You resemble him somewhat, but you look more like your mother; your mother was a beautiful woman… do you remember much about your mother, Sheriff?” Vivian asked as she turned the page.

“No, I don’t, just flashes, mostly. You said they met at the courthouse. My grandmother told me they met at a high school football game,” Joshua said as he gazed down at the next picture.

“The first date they actually went on was to a football game,” Vivian smiled.

The next picture was of a bride and groom standing on the courthouse steps. He recognized his father immediately. He bent down to get a closer look at his mother’s face. In his mind, he began to put the face in the picture together with his memories. He reached down and touched it, stroking his finger the length of his mother’s body.

“So, she quit looking for her brother and sister after she married my father?”

“Just for a bit; would you like for me to take it out?” Vivian asked, jarring him from his concentration of the photograph.

“No,” he replied quickly. “I was just… you said after a bit.”

“Yes, after you were born and while you were a child, she again tried to find them. She even hired a lawyer to try finding them.” Vivian turned to the next page. This picture was of his mother, Vivian, and an old black woman with a rag tied around her head! Joshua immediately recognized the old woman from his dreams. “Who is that?” he asked, pointing at the old woman.

“That was my Mattie LaRue, she was my… a-- I inherited her when I married my husband. She had been a part of his family since her birth. Her parents were slaves of my husband’s grandparents. She was free to go wherever she wanted, but she had always chosen to stay with the family. She was our cook; she was also a mystic. Mattie had a gift. She told our fortunes by reading our palms and she could read tealeaves. Your mother and I got her to do so quite often.”

“I’ve seen her in my memories,” Joshua said. “I was sitting in there in the chair watching y’all through an opening in the curtains. In those visions, I see her swirl a teacup, stare into it a moment and then she takes my mothers hands, but I never see my mother’s face. Then, the old woman - Mattie, she stares at me through the opening; her eyes are always so intense. I wondered what she was thinking.” Vivian turned another page; on it was a picture of his mother and the old woman, Mattie. A young boy sat in his mother’s lap. “Is that me?” Joshua asked, staring into the face of his mother.

It was as if a floodgate opened and gallons of memories come pouring out, memories of her patting the couch for him to come and sit beside her. She talked to him about the boy who had been saying bad things about her, saying she was a McIntosh Cajun and not an Indian. He could feel those feelings as if they had just happened, and this time he could see her face and hear her voice unlike the other times when he had only seen her hands folded in her lap. Joshua’s heart ached.

“You said that Annaleigh hired a lawyer to help her find her family; would you happen to know his name and if she ever learned their whereabouts?”

“Yes, it was my husband, John Xavier Bradley and no, they never found them.”

“Earlier, you said that you never believed that she just ran off like my father said she did, but how can you be so sure?” Joshua wanted her to go into more detail, to tell him why she felt such a way.

“I feel as though I am being grilled by a policeman, as if I were a common criminal. But, that
is
what you do isn’t it…” Vivian said quietly.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Bradley. I did not mean to offend you, but as you can imagine, I have wondered what happened to my mother for nearly forty years, and you are as close as I have ever come to obtaining any information whatsoever; I don’t mean to be harsh.” Vivian smiled weakly and took another draw of her cigarette before she spoke.

“After your father bought the general store out there in Wilmer, your mom did not get to come over as often as when y’all lived a couple of blocks away. When she did come, we talked the entire time. She had told Mattie and me that she had been working at the store with your dad. At the time, he could not afford to pay for more employees. She would run the cash register and straighten up.

Anna said that she usually left the store at six to go home and cook supper, your father stayed until closing, which was eight o’clock. She walked the short distance from the shop to home by herself most of the time because you wanted to stay there with your father and come home when he did.

Anna told me that a young man had begun hanging around the store and then he wanted to walk her home - he claimed it was for
her
safety. She did not trust this young man at first, she said there was something creepy about him; however, your father assured her that he was ‘okay.’ He said that the boy’s father had been coming to that store for years.” Joshua was thinking back, trying to remember walking home with his mom.

“This young man worked for L. B. Price Mercantile like his father did - you know those traveling salesmen. We use to have one that came here twice a month. He came regular as clockwork. Do you remember when they use to ride all over the place in station wagons and stop at people’s houses to sell those wares? The one that came here had all sorts of stuff for sale - blankets, curtains, tablecloths, towels, even kitchen wares… anyhow, sometimes your mother had you with her on her walks home for the store. This traveling salesman, he would leave his car parked at the store and tag along, he even tried to befriend you. Your mother did not like it very much at all. Then he joined her church and she felt better about him, but she was glad when your father finally hired someone to work the register and she could stay home.

She thought that would be the end of it, however, she said the salesman began coming to her house instead of the store. She said he began coming about mid-morning every other week. At first, he came on Wednesdays, so she began leaving those mornings so she would not be there and have to see him. She thought he would get the message and quit coming, but he would come back the next morning when she was not expecting him. Then he began showing up on a random morning so that she never knew what day of the week he was going to come. She was a nervous wreck the last time I saw her… I told your father all of this about a year after your mother disappeared.”