The Way of Women (23 page)

S
he wore a gaping wound, her blood flowing out in rivers of gray. Her breath rose in streams of smoke. Down in her bowels, the tremors continued, and she could not rest. She had buried many friends and drowned her own kindred. Who would forgive her for such cataclysm? Who would blame her Creator?

M
ommy, I want to go home.”

“I know. Me too. But we need to stay here tonight.”

“Will Mr. Johnson be better tomorrow?”

Mellie exchanged a look of commiseration with Katheryn. “Yes, but not enough to drive.”

“But what if Daddy is looking for us?” Lissa laid her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I want my daddy.”

“Me too, baby, me too.” Mellie stared around the gymnasium of the Cascade Middle School. She saw people of every age, kids playing, some people looking into nowhere, the weight of sorrow or fear pressing them into their chairs. Off in the corner two men were setting up more cots, in line with the others, where blankets and pillows were stacked in the middle. One family had taken over a corner group, the mother instructing her children in making up the beds.

Fragrances of cooking food floated from the cafeteria, overlaying that of floor wax, sour gym clothes, and pine-scented cleaning products.

A baby wailed in one corner, and Katheryn’s attention followed the sound. Sure enough, the same young woman she’d seen at the center.

“For Pete’s sake.” Her mutter carried to Mellie.

“What?”

“That baby that’s crying—I hope you’ll all be able to get some rest.” She hoisted her purse strap farther up on her shoulder. “If there’s nothing more I can do for you tonight, I’d better get going.”

“Thank you so much for the ride.”

Katheryn paused. “Are you sure Lissa will be all right here tonight? I mean, if she needs to see a doctor, I could take you back to the emergency room.”

Mellie tried to sound sure of herself, but inside … “I’ll call her doctor in the morning.” She wiped a tear from her daughter’s cheek.

“Don’t want to stay here,” Lissa whispered, another tear following the first.

“There’s nowhere else to go. All the hotels and places are full. Besides, we don’t have any money for that.” She ignored the money in Mr. Johnson’s billfold. That was to be for emergencies only.

A woman with gray hair in a slipping bun stopped in front of them. “Will all of you be staying?”

“No.” Katheryn shook her head. “I have a motel room.” She patted Lissa on the back. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“ ’Kay.”

“Thank you again.”

“I need you to sign this paper. Please print your names in the first box, then your address and signature.” The woman whose badge read
HI, I’M CAROL
, held out the clipboard.

“I need to set you down.”

Lissa shook her head and buried her face in her mother’s neck.

“Here, I’ll hold the clipboard. Is she injured?”

“No, just very ill.”

“Flu?”

“No, leukemia.” Mellie scribbled in the information while Carol tried to hold the clipboard steady.

“Poor lamb. Is there anything we can do to help?”

Find my husband? Turn back the clock?
Mellie signed her name. “We just need a place to stay. My neighbor, who brought us down, had a heart attack and is in the hospital, or we’d have gone on home again. I’m sorry to be a bother.”

“Now, never you mind. We’re all in the same boat here. Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes, so if you want to wash up, the bathrooms are over there.” She pointed to the rest room signs down the hall to the right.

“Thank you.”

“And you can set your things on two of the cots, wherever you want.”

“Carol, do you know where …?” someone called from across the room.

Carol waved at the questioner. “I’d better go see what they need. As if I know any more than the others.” She tsked her way back across the room, leaving smiles and comfort in her wake.

Minutes later Mellie held Lissa in her lap during the meal, encouraging her to eat tiny bits, the food tasting like dust to her.

“Come on, you like spaghetti. Take another bite.”

Lissa, watching the two giggling children across the table, opened her mouth and took the food.

“You two behave yourselves now.” Their mother tapped the older on the shoulder. “And don’t you spill nothin’.”

The boy slurped a string of spaghetti into his mouth.

Lissa half giggled.

The boy dug out another long strand, this one flicking him on the nose in a last-ditch effort for freedom.

Lissa laughed, a sound that brought a smile to her mother’s mouth. Lissa used to laugh and dance and run like all the other kids they knew. Mellie kissed the part in Lissa’s hair and smiled. Which encouraged the boy to more antics, which caught his mother’s attention, which earned him a thump on the head.

“I warned you …”

“But, Mom,” the round-faced daughter put in. “He made the little sick girl laugh.”

The woman handed her son a napkin. “What’s your little girl’s name? Ol’ spaghetti face there is Andrew and”—she patted her daughter’s head—“this is Bitsy, ’Cause she was so little.”

“Tell them your name,” Mellie whispered in Lissa’s ear.

“Lissa Marie Sedor.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

“Better’n Bitsy.” Andrew poked his sister.

“Andrew Scott Bellamy, if you are finished eating, you may take all of our trays up to the window.”

“Ah …”

“Now.”

He untangled his legs from the bench seating and picked up his tray, and then his mother’s.

“What about Sissy’s?”

“Mo-ommm.” The groan on his face made Lissa smile again.

“You want to come down to the TV room with us? We got a video of
Cinderella
.”

Lissa shook her head.

“She’s pretty tired.” Mellie hugged her daughter closer.

When the two ran off, Donna, as she introduced herself, leaned across the table. “There’s going to be a story read later, around bedtime, if you want to come listen.”

“Thanks.” Mellie set Lissa on the bench so she could get up, then scooped her up again. After a bathroom run, they sat back down on one cot.

“You’re going to have to sleep in your T-shirt. I didn’t bring your jammies.”

“I didn’t brush my teeth.” Lissa clutched her bunny with both arms.

“I know. You ready to say your prayers?”

Lissa dug in the bag and pulled out a book. “Read this first?”

Mellie complied, having memorized
Goodnight, Moon
by now. The simple little story was one of Lissa’s favorites.

“You should have read it to me.”

“I can’t read.”

“But you know all the words.”

“I know. I like … 
Moon
.” She lay still, then turned her head to see her mother’s face. “You think Daddy can see the moon?”

Mellie fought the instant burning behind her eyes. “I hope so, baby. I sure hope so. Let’s say your prayers, and then I’ll give you your medicine.”
Please, God, let Harv see the moon tonight
.

“Now I lay me down to sleep …” After she’d finished the old verse, Lissa continued, “And make my daddy come home again and make Mr. Johnson all better and God please make me all better too. Amen.” She opened her eyes, then clamped them shut again. “And if Jesus isn’t right beside You, please tell Him I love Him lots. Amen.”

“Amen.” What more needed to be said? Now, if only they would turn out the lights and make everyone go to sleep.

She’d finally crooned Lissa to sleep when the baby began to fuss again. Lissa whimpered and shifted, a sure sign the pain was back. The medication should be taking effect by now. Mellie, who’d moved their cots close to the wall so she could prop herself against it, stroked her daughter’s hair and murmured love into her skin.
How can I continue without Harv?
Fear snuck up her legs and squeezed her insides, up around her heart and her lungs so she could hardly breathe. Run. Where could she run?

Lissa settled back down. The frown smoothed away between her eyes, and her breathing evened. The crying even hurt her skin, making her want to scream.
God, please get someone to care for that baby. Poor little thing
.

Katheryn couldn’t get Lissa out of her mind as she drove south on I-5 and exited at Kalama. How could she help them? When she parked in the lot by the motel, she wished she’d been able to find something better, but the thought of driving clear to Vancouver every day was about as appealing as a dunk in the mud-clogged river. Driving this far was bad enough.

She opened her door with the key, sniffing and wondering about the vile odor. But once inside, it faded away.

“Hi, Kevin, no messages here, so I’m leaving one for you there. I’m back in my room after a totally frustrating and fruitless day. Everyone keeps telling me to be patient. Carol, the woman at the center, asked me to be a greeter of sorts this afternoon, and that helped the time pass. If I could concentrate on the writing …” She rubbed her forehead. “Hopefully,
I’ll be able to sleep better tonight. Tell Susan I’ll call her in the morning. I love you.”

She hung up, thought about a shower, washed her face instead, and took two sleeping tablets.
David, Brian where are you? If you are suffering, God hold you and carry you. If you are in His arms, I am glad for you. I am
. She wiped her tears with the bed sheet.
But I didn’t want you to go now. I don’t want to—can’t—be alone. I want you here. Oh, God, I want my son and husband back
. She muffled her sobs in the pillow, when she really wanted to scream her agony.

Sometime later someone banging on her door woke her. “Coming.” She stepped out of bed and at the same time realized what a terrible stench filled the room. The backed-up sewer water came to her ankles. She gagged, nearly adding more liquid to the effluent.

Within a few minutes she was packed and out of there, after washing her feet in an upstairs rest room. The management closed the hotel.

Groggy from the medications, she drove carefully back up the freeway and into the parking lot of the shelter.

“You have room for one more?” she asked the man at the door. “In fact, there might be others. Our hotel in Kalama flooded with sewer water.”

Even he shuddered. “There’re empty cots over on that side of the room. If you want to take a shower first, I wouldn’t blame you.”

“No, I washed, thanks.” After changing in the rest room, she set her overnight case under the bed, having left everything else in the car, and crawled under the covers. What a night.

Someone a couple rows over snored loud enough to … to wake the baby.

David Sommers, I cannot believe all this. I know you had no idea what could happen, but right now I could strangle you myself. Along with the mother of that child
.

W
hen did you come back?” Mellie stared at Katheryn.

“Middle of the night. The sewer backed up into my hotel room.” She shuddered, making a face. “Walking through sewer water is …” She didn’t bother to finish her sentence.