You're Gone (Finding Solid Ground) (18 page)

“Monkeys and toads and armadillos…” Mike sang as he wiped a wet washcloth across his daughter’s forehead. Just as he’d done many times throughout her childhood. “Lions and lemurs and dinosaur-oes… Sometimes that’s just the way life goes…”

They were in the bathroom, sitting on the cool stone floor while Charleigh fought with another bout of the stomach virus. This was the worst of it so far. She was hardly able to make it from the bed to the toilet in time and so it seemed like right next to it was the best place for her to stay.

For almost two weeks, she’d been dealing with this horrible illness— and the fact that she was going to grow old alone. Every morning, she was awakened by the urgent need to toss her cookies. It only lasted maybe a few hours each day, but the point was that she was so drained afterward that she could do nothing else but crawl back into bed and stay there until it started all over again the next morning.

Not that she wanted to do much else. Everything that mattered in her life was gone. There was no chance of ever getting it back, and Charleigh had no desire to try to pretend there was. This was the end of the road. If she didn’t believe that suicide was a sin, she would feel so very inclined to take her life and end all the misery.

So, instead, she usually cried until she finally cried herself to sleep.

Oh, no.
Charleigh felt the bile rise up into her throat, and she jerked up just in time to make it to the toilet.

“You’re going to be okay, Char,” Mike chanted as he rubbed her back. “You’re going to be okay.’

“No, I’m not. This is the pits,” she mumbled lying back down. “I just wish this bug, or whatever it is, would hurry up and go away.”

“You know, your mama was the same way when she was pregnant with you. Couldn’t keep a single thing down.”

“Ha. Dad, the only difference is, I’m not pregnant. I, I…” She closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths.

“Are you sure? Have you seen a doctor? Taken one of those home tests?” Mike ran the cloth across Charleigh’s fevered cheeks.

“There’s no reason to. Besides, I…”

“Have you seen a doctor since I’ve been gone? Even just for a checkup?”

“You know how much I
hate
doctors, Daddy.” A tear ran down the side of Charleigh’s cheek. Mike wiped it away. “It’s not fair that I had to lose you
and
Jamie. You were the only two men I ever loved, really.”

“But you need to love yourself, Char, and take care of yourself now that I’m not there to watch over you. I love you, and
I
hate seeing you sick.”

I love you
. Those three words reverberated in Charleigh’s mind as she woke up to find Amos licking the tears away from her cheeks. Lying in the bathroom floor, just as she had in the dream, the only difference was that her father wasn’t there.

“Oh, jeez,” Charleigh cried as the bile rose up into her throat for real this time, but this time she wasn’t lucky enough to make it to the toilet.

***

The male cashier at Wal-Mart had given Charleigh a strange look when he saw her drop all five boxed home pregnancy tests on the conveyor belt. Okay, maybe there were two tests in each package, but it never hurt to be one-hundred percent certain. Right?

What is that saying, ‘Better to be safe than sorry.’
Well, in this instance, if the test came out positive then Charleigh was going to be very,
very
sorry. She was not ready to become a mother, and certainly not a
single
mother. Without Jamie, Charleigh didn’t want to be a mother at all.

And maybe Charleigh did look like she’d just rolled out of bed, not bothering to brush her hair. I
n a pair of too-short cutoffs and a tank top and sunglasses that hid the dark circles under her tired, blood-shot eyes, she honestly didn’t care what she looked like. It wasn’t like she was trying to win a beauty contest or anything. It was
Wal-Mart
, for crying out loud. Although she was not in the position to judge, she’d seen people dressed a whole lot worse.

“Okay,” the cashier murmured under his breath, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

As Charleigh pretended not to hear him—
like he has any right to criticize; he looks like the captain of the zit patrol
— she looked at the assortment of gum and candy next to the magazine displays.
Ugh,
just thinking about any kind of food made her gag.

“$5
7. 26.”

Charleigh threw a hundred dollar bill at the geek, grabbed the bag and said, “Keep the change.”

***

She’d followed the instructions on the test to the letter. Six out of six times so far, that second pink line in that second little window had appeared. It was obvious to Charleigh that they were defective because she was absolutely, without a doubt,
not
pregnant. It just wasn’t possible. They’d been so careful.

So for the seventh time, Charleigh held the test strip between her legs and peed on it. She put the cap back on the end, set it flat on the back of the toilet, and sat down to stare at it. The instructions said it could take up to ten minutes for the results to appear, but it didn’t take ten seconds for that second line to appear in the second window of the seventh test.

“No, no, no.
No
!” Charleigh cried out, picking up the test. “You little rascal, you’re
wrong
. All your little friends are wrong, too!” And she tossed it in the trashcan with the other six.

Jeez, what was she going to do? What was she
supposed
to do? After taking that last test, Charleigh slowly came to the realization that she was in fact pregnant. How was she supposed to think or feel about the situation? Why, when everything in Charleigh’s life seemed to be falling through the cracks, did this have to happen?

Having a baby was theoretically a joyous occasion, wasn’t it? A baby was a gift from God, but the way Charleigh saw it, it was a curse. A stroke of the worst kind of luck, which should seem normal since she didn’t have any.

It was obvious that Charleigh couldn’t have a baby. She wasn’t mentally or physically, and she sure wasn’t emotionally capable of taking care of a child when she could hardly take care of herself right now. Raising another living, breathing human being took a lot out of a person, and the truth was Charleigh just didn’t have anything to give.

Everything about her life was so screwed up that it would be wrong to add a child to the mix. It wouldn’t be fair to her or him. Being a parent meant that you had to put the needs of the little one ahead of your own. It only takes two to bring a life into the world, but it takes a whole village to raise one. Charleigh didn’t have
anybody
.

Truth was, the idea of having a baby, being a single mother scared the
daylights out of her. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to think about having to raise a fatherless child in a cruel, cruel world that would pass judgment on him or her when it wasn’t their faults.

Instead, Charleigh went to bed, pulling the covers high over her head, and tried to forget about it. Maybe she would wake up in the morning and find that it was just a bad dream.
Not very likely!
she thought, drifting off to sleep.

The only thing Charleigh wanted was just to be left alone. She just wanted to be able to grieve her loss in peace, that’s all she asked for. Although she had put it as plainly as she could, they just weren’t getting the picture. Like they thought Charleigh might do something to hurt herself, somebody— either Madie or Lenore, Jenna or her Granddad, her Uncle Josh or Aunt Caroline, or one of her cousins— called her every half-hour to make sure she was ‘okay.’

Maybe they were only concerned about her, but it made Charleigh want to scream in rage every time she heard that damn question. Was she okay? Hell, no, she wasn’t okay! Nothing would ever be
okay
about her life again.
So stop asking!
But physically hurting herself wouldn’t make it any better. It wouldn’t take the pain away that Charleigh felt inside. And killing herself wouldn’t bring Jamie any closer to her.

The simple truth was that suicide had never entered Charleigh’s mind, but nobody bother to ask
that
question.

She stopped watching the television. It had become twenty-four-hour, nonstop news coverage of the cleanup at Ground Zero. She didn’t want to hear or see anything about the towers or the Pentagon or the plane that had crashed in that Pennsylvania field anymore.

Seeing it made Charleigh remember. It made her miss Jamie. It made her think about the love of her life and his father, of Daniel, his boss, and of all those other people buried beneath that rubble. It made her wonder what kind of people could commit such a diabolical act against others who were so innocent. And that made her angry. It made her cry with rage.

As much as Charleigh wished that it wasn’t true, she couldn’t pretend. It wasn’t like deluding herself would change the reality into some kind of imaginary tale.
Nothing
could change it.
Nothing
would bring Jamie back to her.

Hiding in the closet, among all of Jamie’s things, gave Charleigh just a little bit of solace. And lying in bed with her head buried in his pillow, just as she was now. That is, when she wasn’t puking her guts out.

The notion of being pregnant had settled in Charleigh’s mind. She acknowledged the fact, and she came to the conclusion that she absolutely
could not
have the baby. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair to her or to the being living inside her. A child deserved to grow up with two parents. Charleigh felt that, despite the fact that she didn’t believe in abortion, raising a child on her own
was not
an option. 

Anyway, with the state of mind she was in, Charleigh didn’t think she was fit.
Can you imagine how screwed up the kid would be?
What she was going to do, she didn’t have a clue.

Outside, she heard a vehicle pull up to the house. A few minutes later, there was the faint sound of someone knocking on the front door. Still, Charleigh stayed put. She figured, after a few minutes they’d realize she didn’t want to be bothered and go away. Maybe they’d think she was asleep. There wasn’t a single light on in the whole house, which should be a huge clue. Charleigh thrashed about in bed a while before looking over at the alarm clock on the nightstand.
8:45. Just go away!
she thought, pulling the comforter higher and the pillow tighter over her head to block out the sound.

Other than her Granddad, nobody had a key to her house. He had told her that he would give her the space she needed to cope— which Charleigh greatly appreciated.
If only he’d stop calling!
— and John Randall
always
stuck to his word. The only two other people who’d had keys were now dead: Jamie and her dad. Unlike some people, Charleigh didn’t hide spare keys. The first thing, she thought, a robber always looks for is one of those ignorant, fake rocks. She thought of it as an open invitation to break in and steal all of a person’s junk.

The knocking stopped.
It stopped!
Waiting to hear the vehicle leave, Charleigh thanked whatever lucky stars she had that hadn’t pulled through for her in the past. Instead, the dogs started to bark madly. Something was going on down there. They hardly ever barked at anyone, much less at anyone they knew, and especially not Amos.

The alarm to the security system went off. It was horribly loud. An annoying, shrieking sound that kept getting louder. She’d chosen it specifically for that reason.

Sheer panic slapped her square in the face.
Oh, my God! My baby!
Charleigh slung open the drawer to her nightstand, knocking its entire contents to the floor. She jumped down to the floor on all fours, finding the gun immediately. There had been a brand-new pack of .38 bullets in there, too. She searched desperately for them, scattering the junk even more.

For a second, she stopped to listen. The blaring alarm had stopped. Charleigh could hear at least two pairs of loud, plodding footsteps on the first floor. Knowing there wasn’t much time, she put her head on the floor to look underneath the bed. About an arms-length away was the little orange, rectangular container, with its shrink-wrap still on. Reaching, her fingertips barely skimmed it.

The footsteps started up the stairs. She abandoned the effort and dashed for Jamie’s opened closet door. Charleigh could make out the voices of at least two people, a woman and a man, coming into the bedroom just as her back hit the far wall of the small space.

“God, please, just let them take whatever it is that they want and leave us alone,” Charleigh prayed over and over under her breath.

A dim light, most likely from the table lamp, crept into the dark space where Charleigh continued to hide. The man said something to the woman that Charleigh couldn’t understand and left the bedroom. Her heart was pounding frantically in her chest; she could hear it in her ears. She fought to control her breathing. Even the tiniest sigh could give her away.
I don’t care. If they want it, they can have it! Take it all! Nothing matters anymore, anyway! Just leave us alone.

From what Charleigh could tell, the woman was picking up the mess that she’d just made. What she was doing with it, Charleigh had no idea. Papers were being shuffled.
It could only be her journal since she kept all of the important paperwork in a hidden safe in her office downstairs.

The man came back. Or maybe it was a third accomplice. A long, dark shadow crossed the only wall Charleigh could see from where she hid in the closet. She inched toward the door. Through a small crack, Charleigh could see someone standing in front of the French doors. She squinted to get a clearer view. It was the man, and his back was to her.

From what Charleigh could tell, he was older, in baggy, tattered jeans and a plaid shirt. An equally tattered blue cap was perched on his head. Harmless, she hoped.
Maybe he’ll just take whatever he wants and leave.
Unless he had a gun. Then, there were his accomplices. She couldn’t see them or what they were doing.

The woman’s voice was getting closer. Charleigh could see a shadow moving toward the doorway.  Apparently, she was coming over to go through the closets now. The light switch was on the outside wall, and she saw an arm reach out to turn it on.

Subconsciously, she put a hand to her belly.
Oh, Lord, I don’t want to die
, Charleigh thought, squeezing her eyes shut as the lights flipped on.

“Please. Please, don’t hurt me,” she begged, sliding along the wall to the floor.
Something fell down on top of her from the shelf overhead.

“Oh, my God. Charleigh!” The woman cried out. “Here she is.”

That voice was so familiar. But Charleigh was too afraid to open her eyes and see to whom it belonged. Because she knew them, now it was certain that they’d kill her to keep from being identified.

“Take whatever you want. Just don’t hurt me, please?”

“Charleigh. Charleigh, it’s okay. It’s okay.” The man’s voice sounded like he was standing with the woman. It was just as familiar as the woman’s.

Slowly, Charleigh opened her eyes. Scared speechless, she stared up at her Granddad and Lenore. Coming into the closet, John took the gun from Charleigh that she held out slackened in front of her. He uncocked the hammer and unloaded the clip to find it empty. There had only been one bullet in the gun. Although he was sure she wouldn’t have shot them without good reason, that single bullet would have been enough to seriously hurt or even
kill
one of them.

He knelt down beside Charleigh and ran a hand over her hair. She grabbed onto it, holding on tightly.

“Granddad, what are you doing here?” She asked through the tears.

“We came to check on you,” Lenore said. You didn’t answer the phone the last time I called. We were worried that something might have happened to you, or that you might have done something to yourself. I guess we should have just left you alone, like you asked.”

There it was. Somebody had finally admitted to that unspoken truth that Charleigh had known they were thinking all along. But did it have to include scaring the shit out of her?

“Are you okay?” John whispered in her ear.

That question!
It made Charleigh so angry, to hear it asked for the millionth time. ‘
Are you okay? Are you okay?’ Awwwww! Do I
look
okay, especially after you just tried to scare me to death?

The phone started to ring, scaring all three of them. With a groan, she pushed away from her grandfather and up to her feet. Pushing Lenore out of her way, Charleigh went to take the cordless from where it set on her night table.

“Hello?”

“Charleigh Randall?” There was a male voice on the line.

“Uh, yeah?”

“This is Trent from Global Security. Our computer shows that the alarm at your residence has been activated. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, everything’s fine,” Charleigh replied. Her voice was still a little shaky. “It was only my grandfather. He forgot the code.”

“Just to be sure, I need your four-digit code and password.”

“My code is: 3-8-4-3. My password is Amos.”

“Thank you. Have a nice night, Miss Randall.”

“Yes, you too,” Charleigh said, disconnecting the call.

She set the phone back on the cradle and picked up the dislodged drawer with all of its contents reorganized neatly inside from where it laid on the bed. Silently, she slid it back in place in the night table and dropped down on the bed, covering her head with a pillow.

“Charleigh, talk to me,” John stepped out of the closet behind Lenore. He came over and pulled the pillow away.

Charleigh knew why they were there. Lenore had just admitted to it. She knew what they were going to say.  It was the same routine every time they talked to her. Or talked
at
her. ‘You know we’re here if you need someone to talk to… You’re not alone in this…’ After the first few times of hearing the ‘sermon,’ she started to block them out. And she felt like saying: ‘I’m just fine. Everything is hunky-dory.’ Just to get them to leave her alone.

“Talking about it can’t change anything. I’ll still wake up miserable and alone in the morning.”

“So, what? Are you going to just give up on life?” Lenore asked. “Jamie wouldn’t want you to lock yourself away from the world.”

How do you know what Jamie would want, you old bag? Did he tell you? Uh, no… because he’s DEAD!
Charleigh thought, grabbing for the pillow. She groaned when John moved it just beyond her reach.

A part of Charleigh didn’t think they truly wanted to know how she was doing.
Miserable!
Above all Lenore, who was always so caught up in public image and the latest town gossip. They wanted her to tell them only what they wanted to hear. Otherwise, they just cast it aside with miniscule comments like,
‘With time…’
Perhaps they thought Charleigh was making a mountain out of a molehill. She didn’t think so. How could they think she was exaggerating her feelings when she’d just lost the love of her life? It was the only way she knew how to cope.

Charleigh realized that people dealt with death differently, but what she didn’t understand was how Lenore could act like
she
was. Only fifteen days had passed since thousands of people, including her grandnephew and great-grandnephew, were nefariously murdered, and she was acting as if all was right in the world. Was Lenore really that apathetic?

“What do you suggest I do? Any ideas, Granddad?” She rubbed the heels of her hands over her face. “Should I sit by the telephone? Am I supposed to twiddle my thumbs while I wait for someone to call and say that they’ve found Jamie’s broken body?”

“No,” he answered.

“Well… I can’t watch the reports anymore, while the number of dead keeps getting larger. They’re not numbers, they’re people who had husbands and wives and lovers; they had children and friends,” she cried, but her face stayed dry. Shaking her head, Charleigh continued,
“Do you think that anyone in those buildings, when they kissed their families goodbye on Tuesday, thought it would be the last time? They didn’t deserve to die; Jamie and Greg didn’t deserve it. And their families don’t deserve this agony.”