The Road Home (42 page)

Next to the piano was a plain wooden bookshelf. On the top shelf were three pictures. One was of a smiling blond boy with a missing front tooth, and another was of a younger boy with dark curly hair. The third was a picture of the two boys seated together on the front step of the bungalow. The blond boy had his arm around the younger boy's shoulder. They were both smiling.

“I used to hold him in my arms and rock him to sleep when he was a baby, right here in this very chair.” Magdalena Bender reached into a pocket of her apron, pulled out the hanky again, and dabbed her eyes.

“You know, you try to help them become men, you do everything to teach them right from wrong, and still they turn out like Joseph and Samuel. It wasn't easy after their father ran away in the Depression. If I hadn't owned this house, I would have been out on the street. Oh, Joe, my poor boy. I read to him out of the Bible every day. He used to love the stories.”

Bobby and Reuben had pulled up chairs, and Jonathan and Jenny were sitting on a dilapidated old couch.

“Mrs. Bender, can I ask you a few questions?” Bobby asked. “About Joe?”

“Why, yes,” Magdalena said.

“Sammy said there was a young woman with Joe when they robbed the bank and that she had a young child, a girl, with her. Do you know anything about that?”

“That would be Rachel and Jenny,” Magdalena said.

“You knew my mother?” Jenny blurted out.

Magdalena turned and looked at Jenny intently. “Rachel was your mother?” she asked. “You're Jenny?”

“I'm Jenny,” she said. “But I don't know who my mother was.”

“Come here, child,” Magdalena said.

Jenny got up from the couch and came close to the old woman.

“Come down here where I can see you,” Magdalena said.

Jenny knelt down by the rocking chair while Magdalena searched her face intently. After a few moments, she said, “Yes, you are Jenny. I know those eyes and that red-gold hair.”

“But how do you know me?” Jenny asked.

“Whenever Joe got tired of having you around, he used to bring you out here and leave you with me. You were such a good little girl. Rachel didn't like it when Joe made her do it, but the poor girl was so beat down that she just did what Joe said. I think she was glad when you weren't around to see what Joe had done to her. She was such a sweet thing. I felt so bad when Joe told me she died.”

“You were there when she…died?” Jenny asked. She looked around at her papa and Jonathan.

“Well, not exactly, child. It was the day before Thanksgiving, nineteen fifty. I remember the day because the big storm was moving through—biggest in a long time. There were all kinds of warnings on the radio, and I was really worried that I might not have enough coal to keep from freezing. Joe called me late that afternoon. He said he was calling from a pay phone in Stroudsburg. He was crying, and he kept saying, ‘She's dead, Mom, Rachel's dead.' I kept asking what was wrong and he just kept crying. I asked him why he was in Stroudsburg, but I couldn't make any sense of what he said. He kept saying that Sammy was shot and Rachel was dead and he had to get away to California, and then he hung up. You can imagine how I felt. After a week or so, Samuel called to tell me about being shot and arrested. He wanted me
to bail him out, but I didn't have any money, and besides, the police got the judge to say that he couldn't be bailed out.”

“Why didn't you call the police about Rachel?” Bobby asked.

“Sammy said not to tell them anything about Joe because Joe had got away. Joe used to call here all the time acting real crazy and saying the strangest things, so I thought he and Rachel had got away to California. I didn't want to see my other boy in jail too, so I just kept quiet. I wasn't sure your mama was really dead, child, but I think I knew all along. I guess that's why I felt so bad about her.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us, Mrs. Bender?” Reuben asked.

“Well, I don't think so…” She paused. “Wait,” Magdalena said. “There is something.”

She stood up slowly and went into her bedroom. They could hear her opening a drawer, and then she came back in the room. In her hands she held a small blue book. Magdalena sat down and opened the book. In between the cover and the first page was a photograph. Magdalena took it out and handed it to Jenny. It was a small black-and-white photo, faded around the edges but still clear. There was a young woman in the picture holding a small girl in her arms. The woman had mid-length dark hair and a sweet, lovely face. She was wearing a cheap-looking dress and flats. The little girl was wearing a thin summer dress and a coat.

Reuben looked over Jenny's shoulder. “That's you, Jenny,” he said.

Jenny looked again. It was the face from her dreams. The woman's eyes looked so sad, and her face was set as though she didn't want anything of herself to show in the picture. Jenny's heart went out to her. The picture was taken in front of Magdalena's house, and Rachel was standing by the front steps. Afternoon shadows were creeping toward her up the sidewalk, and Jenny could see the shadow of the head of the person taking the photo. Magdalena was standing on the porch, smiling. The little girl was turned in Rachel's arms looking directly at the
camera. Jenny devoured the photo with her eyes. It was her mother and her!

Then Magdalena handed Jenny the blue book. Slowly Jenny opened it. The pages had once been blank, apparently to be used as a diary or journal. About half of the pages had been torn out. On the inside cover someone had written something at the top, but Jenny couldn't read it because it had been crossed out so thoroughly that it was illegible. Under that, written in neat cursive was the name Rachel St. Clair.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-S
IX

The Journal

J
ENNY STARED AT THE LITTLE BLUE BOOK
. Her heart was racing as she reread the name—Rachel St. Clair. The handwriting was strong and smooth, evenly spaced, in cursive letters that slanted slightly to the right. The stubs of the missing pages were smooth, as though someone had torn them out in one piece. The book was obviously a journal or a diary of some sort because the entries were dated. Jenny read the first one.

April 23, 1950. Today I arrived in New York with Jenny. I have a little bit of money and got a room in a hotel in Manhattan. The room is tiny and smells of cigarettes, but it will have to do. Jenny has been awfully fussy. I know she misses Robert very much. Tomorrow I will go to see Robert's parents. Robert told me where they live. It's in someplace called the Upper East Side, right on the East River. I hope they are as kind as Robert said. Surely they will love their granddaughter and want to help her. Robert, I miss you so much too
.

Robert! Somehow the name seemed so familiar. Why did she remember that name? Robert! But was his name St. Clair or something
else? And why did she miss him? Suddenly Jenny was overwhelmed. She closed the book and looked at Reuben.

“Oh, Papa,” she said as the tears started in her eyes. “I don't think I'll find the answers I've been looking for, just more questions. I'm anxious and tired, and I just want to go home.”

Reuben met her gaze and smiled. “This is a difficult time for you, I know. But, Jenny, I've never known you to be a quitter. Your mother knows that you need to follow this journey to its end if you ever want to really know peace. I believe that too, and your Uncle Bobby and I and even Jonathan have been put into your life to help you now.”

“Don't give up, Jenny,” Jonathan said. “You'll find the answers, I know you will, and then we…I mean, you can go home. I remember how much it meant for me to find out who I really was and where I came from. You did that for me, and I'll never forget.”

Jenny looked at Jonathan. He had changed so much since she had met him. He somehow seemed older and more serious about his life. The hippie ways and the devil-may-care approach to life were fading away, and yet he was still the same person she had fallen in love with. Maybe Mama was right after all. She had given her heart to this man, and she knew it would always belong to him, even if they couldn't be together. She reached over and took Jonathan's hand.

His eyes, I love his eyes!

“Thank you, Jonathan, for encouraging me,” she said. “I don't know how everything will turn out, but I want you to know that you'll always be my friend.”

“There are a few more things we can do to answer your questions, Jenny,” Bobby interjected. He turned to Magdalena.

“Didn't you say that Joe called from Stroudsburg the night he told you Rachel was dead, Mrs. Bender?”

“Yes,” Magdalena answered. “Like I said, he was always calling me up and acting crazy, so I took most of what he said with a grain of salt.
But when he told me Rachel was dead, I somehow knew it was true. And yes, he did say Stroudsburg. I remember that.”

“Then I propose that we go to Stroudsburg and check the police records,” Bobby said. “We may be able to find something about her death. Joe called home the day before Thanksgiving in nineteen fifty. That means that right after he called, he started on his way west and crashed at Jepson's Pond sometime that night. Jerusha found Jenny in the car on Friday. So if any women were found dead in Stroudsburg, it would have to be within a very narrow window of time. That should be helpful. If we leave now we can get to Stroudsburg in a few hours. I'll phone ahead to the local authorities.”

Everyone got up to go. Magdalena struggled to her feet. She looked at Jenny sadly. Jenny could tell that Magdalena was distressed, and a great feeling of pity came over her. She hesitated but then gave Magdalena a hug.

“I'm very sorry we had to bring you the news of your son's death,” she said as she held Magdalena close. She could feel quiet sobs shaking the old woman's body.

Jenny spoke again. “I feel like you're a part of my life. I want to thank you for taking care of me when I was little. I'm wondering if it would be all right for me to write to you and let you know how everything turns out.”

“Why, that would be wonderful, child,” Magdalena said. She took Jenny's hand and looked into her eyes. “Your mother loved you very much. You were the only bright sunshine in her life. I don't know what happened to her before I knew her, but she was always so sad and quiet. The only time I saw her smile was when she was with you. I'm angry with Joe for what he did to her, but there wasn't much I could do about it. Joe made his own choices in life, and they turned him bad. I'm sorry he's dead, but somehow I always expected someone to come knocking on my door to tell me. I'm glad it was you, just so I could see you again.
You've grown up into such a lovely young woman. I hope everything turns out all right for you and for your young man.”

“My young man?” Jenny stammered, pretending not to understand.

“Why, dear, I may be old, but I'm not blind. Surely you are going to be married to Jonathan someday?”

Jenny blushed. She bent over to whisper in the old woman's ear. “I hope so, Mrs. Bender, but I just don't know how it will work out.”

“Pshaw,” Magdalena said with a laugh. “The Lord knows even if you don't. I've been around long enough to pick up the hint when He drops one. Now you go find out about your mother, and don't forget old Magdalena. Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. Then He will direct your path.”

Jenny hugged her again. “I will, Mrs. Bender. Thank you.”

As they drove away, Jenny could see the old woman on her front porch, waving with one hand and wiping her eyes with the other.