And maybe, between her and Rhea, something electric had happened. Their blind spots had lined up.
Tuesday, July 27
Arlo, Julia, and Larry arrived as soon as visiting hours started. The TV shouted infotainment in the corner of the ceiling and Gertie tried to turn it off, but her drugged-up roommate had the remote.
Gertie smiled wide. As calming as she knew how. But her voice broke. “Oh, my babies. It’s so good to see you.”
The kids made their slow way to Gertie’s bed. She patted the side of it, but neither of them climbed up. “That’s okay,” she told them as they elected to share the floor while Arlo took the chair.
Everybody looked tired and on edge. They waited for her to explain what had happened, what that baby talk was all about.
“I’m better now,” she said. “I got hit on the head. It made me loopy.”
“Really?” Larry asked. “You’re better? Can you come home? I need you home.”
“This is a psychiatric hospital,” Julia said. “We had to prove we’re family just to get allowed in.”
On a good day, Arlo would have cracked jokes to lighten the mood: What’s red and green and blue all over? Who’s buried in Grant’s Tomb? What do you get when you cross a skeleton and a chicken? Now he crumpled in the armchair like a trench coat without an owner.
“Julia, she’s all better!” Larry said.
“I am. I’m all better,” Gertie promised.
Normally, Julia would have confronted. She’d have persisted until Gertie admitted that no, she hadn’t been hit in the head. Yes, this was a loony bin. Mom’s a little bonkers. But something had shifted in her. A loss of innocence. Instead, she stood. Slowly, so as not to cause surprise, she put her hand over Gertie’s hand. Held it. “Okay,” she said.
After that, they tried to talk like things were normal. The kids told her about the heat on the crescent, and the fact that the sand oil had surfaced as far as the town pool. Arlo said that they’d been cleaning the house in her absence, getting it ready for her homecoming.
“Are they giving you a hard time about not coming to work?” Gertie asked.
“No,” Arlo said. “Josh Fishkin told me to take as long as I need.”
“Are they still gonna pay you?”
Arlo looked at his fingernails, which were clean and filed. She noticed that the kids’ hair was brushed, too; their faces clean. Even under this stress, he’d kept things up. But that was his nature. He was a caretaker. “My name got leaked to the press, so…”
“Leaked how?”
“Just that I’m the guy who wrote that song, and the cops questioned me about what happened to a missing girl. No specifics yet. I was worried paparazzi’d show up at our door, but they’re just using the stuff they find online, plus a picture of our house from the sales records.”
“You’re fired?” she whispered.
“Temporary leave. Half pay.”
“Oh, Arlo.”
“Yeah. It’s not as personal as it feels. On the down low, they told me the division’s closing. It’s a bad time for office products. Nobody really works in offices anymore.”
News played at low volume. On-screen, a picture of the sinkhole flashed, and then Shelly’s seventh-grade class picture. That long, black hair, gossamer as angel wings. Rhea’s voice followed: I just don’t understand it…
“She makes me want to upchuck,” Gertie said.
“The worst. I feel like any second all of Maple Street is gonna drag me out. Dip me in tar ’n’ feathers.”
The kids were listening. This wasn’t for them. Julia stood. Took Larry by the hand. “Can we have some money for Cokes?” she asked. Arlo handed her five dollars, told her to take her time.
Once they were gone, Arlo said, “I don’t think we should go back to Maple Street.”
“Where else is there?”
“Cheerie’s still got that two-bedroom, doesn’t she?”
“Not while I’m alive. Not while I’m dead, either.”
“？’Kay. I called my mom but she took a turn.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. The Medicare has her covered but she’s in no position… I hate the idea of bringing you back to Maple Street. They got it out for us. The signs are in neon. And the way it affected you…”
She blushed, remembering it from a dense and murky place. “I don’t do well with things in the night. In my bedroom. It’s just a thing with me. I’m not crazy.”