Chapter 8
The garage's banner flew proudly in the air announcing N
EED A
T
OW,
M
ILTON'S
W
ILL
G
ET
W
HERE
Y
OU
N
EED TO
G
O.
Marvin cringed at the sight of the sign or anything related to the garage. The only thing that would make him happy was seeing his own name on the banner. This morning he had another cause for cringing.
As Marvin approached Milton's garage, he saw Jade, the evening dispatch operator, sitting outside on a milk crate with her slender legs crossed. He could see her luminous smile from the corner. He was shocked to see her there but relieved. He hadn't seen her since he switched to the day shift, which was nearly three months ago. When Marvin used to work the late shift, he'd spend most of it on the radio talking to Jade. She'd call out a location and then she'd page his truck. They went back and forth all night. Before he could reach the entrance, Jade was already standing up waving at him.
“How you doing, buddy?” She grinned.
“Hey, Jade. What are you doing here?” As soon as he looked into her honey-colored eyes, some of the anxiety he was experiencing over Cynthia's disappearance melted away.
“Antoinette came in late this morning, so I stayed a couple of extra hours to cover for her. When I checked the roster and saw your name, I decided to stick around and wait for you,” she said, punctuating her sentence with a wink.
Jade's warm greeting relieved Marvin, but in between each word she uttered, his thoughts darted back to Cynthia. As excited as he was to see Jade, as much as he would have enjoyed engaging in some risqué conversation with her that morning, especially after a night of fighting with his wife, he wanted to run inside and check the desk for any messages from Cynthia. Surely, she'd gone to Dr. Chang's office and had forgotten to tell him she was going to work for a meeting or to settle a claim. He'd looked for her laptop before leaving the house and couldn't find it. After all these years of working from home, every now and then she went into Dr. Chang's office to check the paperwork, organize the office, order supplies, or do anything else Dr. Chang asked her to do. She had become an informal office manager. Marvin thought she was crazy at first for doing all of that extra work, but Cynthia reminded him Dr. Chang had been good to them.
Months had passed since Cynthia had been summoned to the office for an emergency audit or to handle a rejected claim that required her attention. However, right now he needed for her to be at Dr. Chang's filing a claim.
Jade must have noticed the pensive look on Marvin's face. “Are you okay?” she entreated, rubbing his arm to coax a response out of him.
Marvin took a deep breath, sucking in the vanilla scent Jade was wearing. Normally he would have said something fresh, but he simply replied, “I've just got some things on my mind, Jade.”
“What happened, Marv?” Jade asked in a singsong voice. “Your wife finally up and leave you?” Jade chuckled.
Marvin stared directly into her eyes. He cracked a sparse smile. He didn't want Jade to know how true that statement was. “We had a big fight last night.” He leaned into her, brushing the hair out of her face so he could see her eyes better. “All I need right now is someone to tell me I'm a good man.”
“You're a good man.”
“Good and late,” Marvin's supervisor, Rodney, shouted. “Are you going to tow some cars or what?” He stared at the pair and opened his flabby jaw wide, which usually marked the commencement of a speech about responsibility and the duties of a husband to his wife.
“Well, Marvin?” Rodney cleared his throat.
“See you around, Jade,” Marvin said, dipping his head under the gate to enter into the garage, barely glancing in Rodney's direction. He darted to the operator's desk upon entering and began combing through the message book.
“You got one message from Milton,” Rodney shouted in his standing position under the gate. “Rig fourteen is broken. I think it might be the carburetor. You're going to have to take five unless you come in early and work on fourteen before your shift starts; it's too late for that now, isn't it? Why didn't you call in sooner, man?”
Despite rig fourteen being Marvin's favorite tow truck, he didn't have it in him at the moment to focus on fiddling around with the insides of a truck when the insides of his own personal life were discombobulated. “I'll take five out for a run. If Milton calls, just tell him I didn't want to get all greasy and dirty before my shift starts, but I'll work on it after my shift is done.”
About three hours into his shift, Marvin radioed the garage to check if Cynthia had called but she still hadn't. He called her cell phone nine times, and it kept going to her voicemail. He called their cell phone carrier and asked them to locate her, but the GPS application on her phone wasn't active. They would only be able to track her if they had a court order from the police. He argued with the customer service representative for ten minutes.
“I'm her husband,” he pleaded over and over.
“I'm sorry, sir, but those are the rules. Besides, if you're her husband, you would know where she was. Thank you for calling TRS Connect and have a good day, Mr. Barclay,” the customer service representative said curtly before hanging up on him.
By the time Marvin returned to the garage, he'd given up searching for Cynthia. He'd spent his shift listening to Jeffery Jordan, an average Joe turned love doctor/ preacher, on the radio declaring to all his followers if you love someone sometimes you really have to let them go, and if it's truly meant to be, the person would somehow make it back into your life.
That was enough to calm down the beast inside of Marvin. He accepted the fact Cynthia might still be angry about the fight they had last night. After parking his truck at the end of his shift, Marvin used the phone in the office to reach out to his wife.
“Cyn, I didn't mean those things I said last night,” he started with his message after going straight to voicemail yet again. “You know I love you. I don't know why I said those things. You know I need you. The boys need you. Just come home and we can work it out. I've almost got enough money to open my own garage. Everything is going to be okay. Please, believe me. It will get better for us . . . between us,” Marvin whispered to her voicemail.
He hung up the phone and walked to the back of the garage with his head down so low his chin touched his chest. He ran his hand across the hood of number fourteen. The cool metal made the hairs that had been standing up on his arms all day lay down. He popped the hood. Rodney had mentioned something about the carburetor. While he was tinkering around under the hood, Antoinette came running to him with her jiggly arm outstretched waving the cordless phone at him.
“Is it my wife?” Marvin asked eagerly.
“No, Marv. It's your son, Keith, and he says it's an emergency.”
Marvin snatched the phone from Antoinette's plump hand. “What is it, Keith?”
“Are you going to be home soon, Dad? We're hungry.”
“Where's your mother?”
“She's not home. I know we're not supposed to bother you at work, but Mommy said to never touch the stove without adult supervision. We each had a sandwich when we came in.”
“Keith, I'll be there soon. I'm going to leave right now.” Marvin handed the phone back to Antoinette. “I've got to go. Tell Milton I'll explain later,” Marvin said, flying out of the garage.
What if she never comes back? Of course she'll be back. Get a hold of yourself,
Marvin thought, checking himself. Cynthia may have wanted to leave his sorry behind, but she would never leave James and Keith. Her world revolved around them
.
A solitary tear streaked his face. They'd been together for nearly fifteen years now. Marvin couldn't even begin to imagine a life without his wife. The tears continued falling. He sat down on a bench at the bus stop. He knew the boys were waiting, but he couldn't get on the train crying like this. He rode the bus downtown and transferred to the one that went across the bridge. As it crept along, Marvin stared out the window, his face ashen from the flood of tears. His eyes fixed on the green waves of the East River while his mind conjured up a plan to build a bridge that would bring Cynthia back.
Chapter 9
An hour had passed since Keith called Marvin at the garage. The boys sat at the dining room table staring at each other in silence. Keith had given James some soda and some ham and cheese to pass the time, but he could tell James was still hungry. He couldn't hold still. His eyes were fixed on a red spot made by some Kool-Aid he spilled a week ago their mother couldn't get out of the tablecloth. He wrapped a loose thread hanging from the tablecloth around his finger until he lost the feeling.
Normally, Keith would be wearing his Spider-Man mask and tearing through the apartment swinging from imaginary webs. Instead he was watching the clock that hung on the wall behind the table.
Eight o'clock. He pounded the table, causing it and James to jump. He wondered why his mother had left them with Marvin. James leaped from his chair and ran to his book bag. He sat on the floor with his legs folded like a W, pulling out papers, stickers, empty candy wrappers, Pokemon cards, his science textbook, and a brown paper bag that contained semi-crushed Devil Dogs. He held the bag in the air, waving it at his older brother. He ran back to the table and snatched two napkins from the silver holder. He opened the plastic wrapper with his teeth and put one on each napkin. James slid one toward Keith and bit into his. Keith eyed the Devil Dog suspiciously.
“How long was this in your bag?”
“Like . . .” He took a massive bite of his Devil Dog, nearly swallowing the whole thing. “Like, two days,” he replied, licking the sweet white cream filling from the corners of his mouth.
Keith inspected the Devil Dog, looking for signs of age. Satisfied with the result, he took a bite. By the time he took his second bite James was licking the chocolate from his fingertips.
“Go take a shower, James.”
“Uh-uhh,” James refused.
“Go now,” Keith said forcefully.
“No. I'm waiting for Daddy. Maybe he's going to bring us something to eat. What if it's messy like spaghetti and I have to take another shower?”
“It's almost time for bed, and Daddy isn't going to bring us anything, so just stop wasting time,” Keith insisted.
“Yes, he is.” James nodded.
“No, he's not!” Keith shouted at James. “Just go and take a shower.”
James rose from the table. “When is Mommy coming home?” he asked as tears lined the rims of his eyes.
Keith sighed. “She's never coming back.”
“She is coming back. Remember the last time she was really mad at Daddy and we went and stayed at Grandma's?”
“She's not coming back.”
“How do you know?”
“'Cause I know. This ain't like the last time. Just go.” Keith pointed toward the bathroom. “And take a shower so you can go to bed.”
James dragged himself down the hall to their room. Keith didn't want James to be up when their father strolled in drunk and empty-handed.
It was 10:30 p.m. when Marvin came home. Keith sat at the table rubbing his eyes as he watched his father stumble through the front door. He kicked Keith's school bag out the way then wobbled over to the dining room table and used his knuckles to prop himself up.
“Did your mother come home yet?” Marvin asked.
“Did you bring us something to eat?” Keith countered questioning his father.
Keith stared at Marvin as he stood there empty-handed. His eyes flickered in the light, begging Marvin to do more, be better.
I need you to be better.
The words rumbled around inside of Keith, but at twelve he didn't know how to say them. Marvin reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He took out a couple of dollars and extended his arm to Keith.
“Go to the chicken spot and get something to eat for you and your brother. I know you're upset about your mother taking off like that, but until she comes home I'm all you got.”
Keith studied his father. His irises were completely red. Sweat dripped from his brow as he shifted his weight from side to side to maintain his balance. Maybe Marvin meant it as a peace offering, a request for forgiveness, and a promise to do better. Keith didn't need it. He focused all his energy on holding back his tears. His stomach rumbled, urging him to take the money. He also heard his mother's voice saying, “Children shouldn't be in the street after dark.” He couldn't fight it anymore. A tear slid out of his eye. To Keith it seemed as though the room had begun to spin as his chest heaved. All he wanted to do was scream for his mother to come and save him because he knew Marvin was only a few seconds away from flying into a rage. Marvin would definitely strike him if he cried for Cynthia.
Swallowing the knot that had formed, he grunted to clear his throat, and began walking to his room.
“Who do you think you are? Don't you ever turn your back on me.” Marvin pounced on him, snatching him up by the collar of his shirt, and slamming him against the wall. Keith yelped as Marvin pressed his elbow against his chest.
“You're gonna respect me. You may hate me, but you're gonna respect me.” Keith stared up at his father, with tears running down his cheeks. “Do you hear me, boy? You're going to respect me.”
Keith coughed as Marvin shook him. A new knot had formed in his throat and was choking him. Keith remained silent as Marvin eased off him slightly.
“Do you understand me?” Marvin asked.
“What are you doing, Daddy?” James asked as he emerged from the boys' bedroom.
Marvin glanced at James then at Keith still pinned to the wall. He loosened his grip and slid his fingers down Keith's shirt, straightening the wrinkles.
“Uhh, I was just talking to your brother. You boys better get in the bed. It's getting very late and y'all got school tomorrow.” Marvin crouched down to pick up the money he'd dropped then he stuffed it into Keith's hand. “Use it for some afterschool snacks or for lunch. What time does your mother usually wake you boys up?”
“At six-fifteen or six-thirty,” Keith answered dryly, walking into the bedroom. He turned the light off and left the door open for James.
“Good night, Dad,” James said, running back into the room.
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The following morning Keith arose at six. He kneeled at the foot of his bed and began to pray. “Father God, umm . . . I don't know what to say or how this thing is supposed to work, but if you're out thereâI mean up thereâplease send my mother back to me. I really need her. We really need her. I'm sorry for not listening. I'm sorry for all the bad things I've done, but I promise if you send her back, I'll be good. Amen.”
Keith rose from the floor, hunched over from the hunger pains attacking him. He held his breath as he turned the doorknob waiting to see his prayer answered. He hoped to find his mother lying in bed. He wouldn't ask any questions about her absence, just jump in the bed and snuggle up next to her. To his surprise, Marvin wasn't even lying in the king-size bed. Keith walked into the room and stared at his mother's nightstand. None of her jewelry was gone. Maybe she would come back. He walked to the window, raised the blinds, and flung the window open.
His mother always said fresh air made you feel better. Keith stood in front of the window with his arms outstretched waiting for the wind to carry him away. An early morning zephyr danced with the trash in the gutter while a cool spring breeze too light to carry Keith's burden floated past the window. Keith ran his fingers across the top of her armoire. The smooth cool cherry wood reminded him of touching his mother's skin. He leaned over the armoire and took a deep breath, sucking up the scent of jasmine from one of her perfumes. He picked up the small bottle and held it close to his chest, deciding to take it with him as he headed out the room. He needed some semblance of her to make it through the day.
He trudged down the hall planning breakfast. James had wanted toast yesterday, but there was no time and he didn't want to make any. Their mother had often reminded Keith that as the big brother it was his job to take care of James. She would say, “Don't be like Cain. Love your brother with a godly love. Protect him and take care of him.”
Keith felt like he'd already failed and only one day had passed. Today would be different. Keith decided he'd buy lunch and dinner with the money Marvin gave him the night before.
Marvin's snoring met Keith as he approached the kitchen. He continued into the kitchen after deciding it would be best to let Marvin rest considering how badly last night went. After washing the dishes and cleaning the counter, Keith went to go wake up James who lay in the bed snoring like their father, with one leg hanging over the side of his fire engine bed. Keith kicked his foot several times until James sat up rubbing his eyelids.
“Did Mommy come home?”
“Well, good morning to you, too.” Keith placed his hand on James's shoulder. “I know this is hard for you to understand, but she may not be coming back. The sooner you accept it, the easier this will be for all of us. Come on and brush your teeth.”
They went into the bathroom and stared at their reflection in the mirror as they brushed their teeth side by side like any other morning. Keith hummed “Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child” as he gargled. Every time he'd heard his father play the record he couldn't grasp the concept: a child without a mother. Now the song would be his theme song. Keith went back into the bedroom to find some clothes for James.
“Your clothes are on your bed,” he stated as he headed into the kitchen. He put the end pieces of the bread he'd hid in the produce box of the fridge for today's breakfast in the toaster and divided the remainder of the Lucky Charms into two bowls. He sat down on the stool that Cynthia used for reaching the cabinets. Before he could enjoy a spoonful, the bread popped out of the toaster. As he buttered the toast he could feel something looming behind him. It was Marvin standing in the arc of the doorway.
“Good morning, son,” he said and then repeated the same to James as he passed him in the hallway.
James hurried to the kitchen to join his brother for breakfast.
“Cereal again?” James looked over at Keith.
“This is all we have and you're lucky I saved this last night. You don't like it then don't eat.”
They sat in silence. Keith was dreaming of French toast, eggs, and bacon and James was probably imagining a platter of waffles and Canadian bacon.
“Get your book bag on. It's seven.”
Keith's command woke James from his fantasy.
Keith went to his parents' bedroom door and knocked.
“Come in,” Marvin called out from the other side.
Keith pushed back the door. Marvin was sprawled out across the bed still in his uniform.
“It's almost time for us to get on the bus,” Keith said, not even bothering to cross the threshold.
Keith didn't wait for Marvin to respond. He walked off and grabbed his book bag from his room. James sat on the floor gathering all of the junk he'd left on the living room floor the night before. He quickly stuffed everything into the bag then scurried to the door.
“Listen, boys,” Marvin said, placing his hand on Keith's shoulder, “I know yesterday was rough, but today will be better. Don't worry about your mother. I'm gonna go to the police station today, and they're gonna help us find her.”
“Okay, Dad,” James said, smiling.
Keith opened the door for his brother and remained stoic. His father's promise of a better day could not bring him to smile. From what he understood about the police they weren't that great at solving crimes and Marvin wasn't that great at following through. Keith highly doubted that this day would give him much to look forward to.