The Lost Truth (10 page)

Cindy came back into the room and got underneath the covers. Stopping my search, I looked over at her. “Where’s CeCe?”

“I got rid of her,” she replied with a confident tone.

Standing up, I came over to the bed and sat on the edge. “How come? I thought you loved CeCe.”

“Dad. I’m seven years old. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Oh. I didn’t realize you outgrew your favorite teddy bear.”

Catching a glimmer of remorse in her eyes, I touched her shoulder. “Don’t grow up too fast.”

She smiled. “I want to be BIG like you and Mommy.” Her eyes went wide as she jumped around underneath the covers.

I kissed her forehead and said, “Go ahead and pray.”

“Dear God. Thank you for bringing Mommy and me here safely to Daddy’s house. Thank you for the sunshine today. Thank you for the yummy food that Jammy made. Thank you for my Daddy. Thank you for my Mommy. And help them love each other again. Amen!”

My heart shattered into a million pieces.
Help them love each other again.
Kissing her once more, I stood up to leave.

“Dad . . .”

I stopped from getting up and relaxed back into my seat on the bed. “Yeah, dear?”

“Are you going to pray?”

“Oh. Sure.” Bowing my head, I folded my hands together and prayed. “Dear Heavenly Father, I thank you for my little baby girl coming to see me. Thank you for the life you’ve given me and the blessings. Help Cindy to sleep well tonight and protect her dreams. We love you, Jesus, Amen.”

Opening my eyes, I saw Cindy beaming with a smile from ear to ear. “I love you. Get some sleep.”

“Okay! I can’t wait for tomorrow!” She wiggled beneath her covers again.

Placing my hand on the comforter that covered her, I said, “Seriously, Cindy. Relax and get some sleep.”

“Okay.” She rolled over, and I stood up from the bed. Leaving the room, I shut the light off and cracked the door.

“Does she pray about us getting back together every night?” I asked Gail as she was gathering her things to leave to her mother’s house when I came out into the living room.

“Always.”

“Wow . . .” I rubbed the back of my neck.

“For a while, it bothered me, but I realized it was just something that would be natural for her to want. She’s not a baby, Clay. She understands what’s going on, and it affects her a lot.”

I nodded.

Swinging her purse around her shoulder, Gail said, “I’ll be over in the morning to check on you guys. I don’t trust you. No offense.”

“You’re a peach.” The tone echoed the sarcasm as I sat down on the couch.

She narrowed her eyes at me as she came around the couch. “I said no offense. I just can’t have you driving our daughter while intoxicated.”

“You think that little of me?” I shouted at her. “You think I’d drink and drive our daughter?”

Gail looked at me blankly for a moment. “You drove drunk on that motorcycle. I don’t know you anymore. I don’t know what you’re capable of.”

Seeing that look in her eye, I knew what she was talking about. It wasn’t the drinking. It wasn’t even completely the accident. It was the trailer park. I retorted, “I did what I had to do that day.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Maybe it’ll bring Missy back.” Gail turned and headed to the door.

Adrenaline coursed through me as anger overtook my whole body in an instant. Darting from the couch toward the door and Gail, I grabbed my leg as pain shot through it. Fighting through the pain, I made it over in time to push it shut.

Gail dipped her chin.

“Don’t you dare try to talk to me about Missy or anything that happened that day! You don’t understand what it took for me to do what I did!”

Her chin raised and her eyes met mine. “That. Right there. You have darkness in you, Clay. I don’t know what’s going on in that mind of yours, but it has robbed you of the light.” Grabbing the doorknob, she opened the door and left.

T
he next morning, as I waited for the coffee to brew, I looked at a picture that hung on the fridge in the kitchen. It was of Janice and me with our mother, Loraine, and our father, Ted. The picture was from a family vacation back in the summer of ’84. It was the last time we were all together as a family. Our mother vanished off the face of the earth that fall, leaving our father to care for us. There was no note, no warning. She was just gone. When mom left, Janice took on the role of mother, making sure I always had clean clothes and food to eat. I felt it played a vital role in her taking me in after the accident and failed rehabilitation. We did find our mother the year following Dad’s death, but she had moved on long ago and started a new life. She didn’t want to discuss anything. It was really difficult for Janice to accept, but we got through it.

The coffee finished brewing and I poured a cup, taking it out with me to the porch. The morning air was crisp, clean and refreshing as I took a seat in my chair. Kip was singing a song of some sort as I sat down and took in the new day.

I set my coffee down on the patio table and stretched out my bad leg. Straightening my back, I continued to stretch to help my leg muscles. The pain worsened, like it always did with these stretches Katie showed me. After a few minutes, I let my leg drop to a relaxed position.

A bird chirped as it flew overhead, and I picked my coffee back up. I paused as I brought the mug to my lips. Glancing over at Kip in his cage, I asked, “That a friend of yours?”

He moved about on his twig and flapped his wings. It looked like his damaged wing might have been finally healing up. Setting my coffee down again, I went over and opened the door to the cage. Cupping him in both my hands, I pulled him out and took him down into the grass.

Setting him down, I stood up and stepped back. “Go, Kip.”

He flapped and flew a few feet before petering out and dropping back into the grass. He kept trying, eventually making his way over to the porch and up the steps. On the second step, he moved to the edge and jumped. Flapping furiously to keep himself in the air, he took off. He made it halfway across the yard, but once again fell.

Hurrying over to him, I scooped him up into my hands and took him back to the porch. “Don’t overdo it, buddy.” Leaping from my hands, he landed on the twig inside the cage.

He was a smart bird and determined to fly. I knew he’d be flying in no time with the drive he had. I sat back down and looked across the field at the barn that sat over on Mr. Kilgore’s land.

“Daddy?” Cindy said with a sweet tone from behind the screen door.

Turning to look at her, I smiled and asked, “Good morning, dear. You want some breakfast?”

She nodded and rubbed an eye with a balled fist. “Can we go to the farmer’s market?”

“It’s a little early, but we’ll be going there around nine, a couple of hours from now.”

“Okay.”

Getting up, I went inside with my coffee and prepared her a full course breakfast—eggs, hash browns, toast and sausage. As I scooped her food onto a plate, I heard Janice’s bedroom door open.

As she walked into the kitchen, she asked, “You can cook breakfast? Why have I been doing it all this time?”

I laughed as I took the plate of food over to Cindy at the table. “Guess you never asked, Sister.”

She nodded her head and then headed over to the cupboard to grab a coffee cup. Janice paused as she reached for a cup and looked back at me. “Wait. I’m mad at you!” She grabbed her cup and slammed the cupboard shut, causing Cindy to jump at the table.

“Hey. You scared, Cindy! Don’t be so loud.”

She didn’t reply, but instead poured a cup of coffee and then headed out the back door.

Placing the skillet and pans in the sink, I ran the water and headed out to the porch to talk with Janice. As I stepped outside, I said, “Why are you so mad at me?”

“Really? Don’t act so naïve.”

Shaking my head, I crossed my arms. “What? This still about Paul playing pool?”

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t know about his side chick down at the pool hall!”

“Who? What?” I had no idea what Janice was talking about. Was Paul cheating on her? What was he thinking if he was? That didn’t make any sense or seem like the Paul I had just gone fishing with a week ago. “There must be a misunderstanding.”

Janice had a leg crossed over her other leg, and it was shaking as she shook her head. “Sure, Clay. A
misunderstanding
. Maybe if the
misunderstanding
was his tongue being in another girl’s throat.”

Glancing at her hand, I saw that the ring wasn’t there. I shook my head. “I don’t understand . . . I’m so sorry. This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Should have been a warning flag when he didn’t want to marry me for the past five years. I guess I’m just stupid.” She set her coffee down and looked out to the field.

Coming over to her, I put my hand on her shoulder, and she immediately began crying. Bending over, I hugged her and kissed the side of her head. “At least it was
before
you got married, not after.”

She sniffed. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“I don’t know. I’m just trying to help.”

She stood up and wiped her eyes before heading inside.

I went over to the porch railing and gripped the wood. Looking out to the field and then over to the pine trees to the side of the property, I dipped my chin.
What purpose is this for?
I asked in a silent prayer.
I know I don’t pray often, but seriously. She’s helping me out, Lord. Why isn’t there any good for the good people?
The screen door creaked open behind me.

Looking, I saw Cindy fully dressed and standing in the doorway.

“Wow. Ate and dressed already?”

She nodded as she grinned and ran across the porch to me. She smacked me so hard with a hug, it about made me topple over.

“I’m ready to go!” she insisted, looking up at me with eager eyes.

I smiled and smoothed her hair back with my hand. “Just a bit longer, dear.”

At ten, I finally had enough waiting on Gail, and I decided to call her. The phone rang until it hit voicemail.
Whatever
. Hanging up, I slipped my cellphone into my pocket.

“Time to go?” Cindy asked from the couch. Her eyes were wide, and she could barely contain her excitement to leave. She had been fully dressed and ready to leave for hours now. “Pleaaaassse?” she said in a long, drawn out, borderline whine.

“Just go,” Janice insisted from the kitchen as she came into the living room. Shooing Cindy off the couch and toward the door with me, she said, “I’ll take care of Gail if she shows up.”

I breathed in her face and said, “Let her know . . .”

She half-smiled. “Don’t do that. Just leave! You’ll miss the guy that walks around on stilts! He leaves around eleven.” She handed me my cane and practically shoved us out the front door.

As we walked out to my truck in the driveway, Cindy asked, “Why do you need that?” Then proceeded to point straight at my cane as I carried it beside me.

“To cast spells, of course.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Oh, yes. It’s a magical staff.”

She began skipping as she walked sideways, her eyes fixed on my cane. “What kind of spells?”

“I can’t tell you that. It’s a secret. The magic will be gone if I tell you.”

She nodded and proceeded to walk beside me. “I bet you can shoot fire from it.”

I kept quiet but smiled.

“You can? Can’t you?” she asked.

Making a zipping motion across my lips, I put the pretend key into my jean pocket. She began giggling.

Cindy walked a few paces in front of me as we looked at the booths that lined the parking lot of the boardwalk. She dashed over to a jewelry stand which had tables full of necklaces and rings. Coming over to the booth, I immediately noticed the Indian man behind the table.

Tipping a nod to him as we made eye contact, I placed my hand on Cindy’s shoulder. She looked up at me over her shoulder, but not without her eye catching the dream catchers that hung off the edge of the tent that sat over the booth.

“What is that, Daddy?”

The man behind the table stood up and looked at me. I could tell he wanted to explain to Cindy about the dream catchers, so I gave him a nod.

“That’s a dream catcher, little girl.”

She turned to the man and asked, “It catches dreams?”

The man nodded.

“How?”

The old man licked his bottom lip as he paused a moment and looked at the dream catcher in a way like it was part of who he was. Then he spoke. “The dream catcher serves my people as a way to capture good and bad dreams.” He reached a hand out and pointed to the stretched leather inside the circle. “Here bad dreams get stuck.” He pointed to the feathers that dangled off the circle. “The good dreams come down this feather and drop into your mind so you have good dreams all night.”

“Wow,” Cindy replied, peering up at where he pointed.

The man then pointed to the circle and said, “This represents the hoop of life.”

“What’s it made of?” I asked.

“Wood. Everything you see on the dream catcher comes from mother earth. The hoop of life, for instance comes from trees which stay green all year round and are considered holy by my people.”

Nodding respectfully, I pulled at Cindy’s shoulder slightly to get her away from the booth. She shrugged out of my tug and stepped closer to the booth as her eyes stayed fixed on the dream catcher.

“So you’re like an Indian?” she asked, wanting to know more.

He nodded slowly. “My people are the Nez Perce Indians. I live in Lewiston, Idaho where we have a small reservation. I’m here helping a fellow tribe with some matters.”

“Is it cool where you live?” she asked.

He smiled and nodded. “It is cool.”

Looking away for a moment, I spotted the marshmallow shooters that Cindy was asking about last night. Leaning down into her ear, I asked, “Want that marshmallow shooter?”

She turned to me and nodded. “Yeah, Daddy! Let’s go!”

Scooping my arm around her, I told the man, “Thank you.” Then we headed down the path toward the tent with the shooters. Stopping on the path, I lowered my eyes down to her and said, “When I indicate it’s time to move away from a booth . . . we need to move on.”

She dipped her chin as she felt the weight of my seriousness. “Sorry, Dad.”

Lifting her chin with a finger, I looked her in the eyes and wiped a stray tear. “It’s okay. You just need to listen.”

“Can we get a marshmallow shooter now?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Hold on. This is serious.”

“Okay.”

“We don’t believe in Mother Earth and all that weird stuff.”

“Well, duh, Dad. I know God created everything. There was no
Mom
in the Bible.” Her eyes shifted over to the tent only a few feet away, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. I knew she was burning to get over there.