giving me something. The next thing I remember is Chel driving me across the Bay Bridge, Janis Joplin screaming on the radio, Chel screaming along with her.” She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see Mom’s face when she said the rest. “I woke up in a strange house, in a strange bed, with a guy I’d never seen before. It got worse after that.”
Carolyn pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “I used to dream about Charlie all the time.” She gulped down tears. “I’d see him in a rice paddy. I’d see him burning in napalm. I’d see him-” She stopped, appalled, realizing what her words must be doing to her mother. She took her hands away. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t stop, honey.” Her mother spoke in a soft, choked voice. “Tell me the rest.”
“I stayed stoned and drunk, trying to deal with his death.”
“You looked so frail when you came home.”
Carolyn remembered all too well. She’d been starving slowly, living on garbage. And then a young vet gave her a chocolate bar and kept her warm. A young woman gave her hope and a ticket home. “I lived in Golden Gate Park for a while. I don’t remember how long. I had to get out of that house and away from Ash.”
“What house? And who is Ash?”
“We lived in a big house on Clement Street. He moved in while Chel and I were in New York, celebrating rock and roll at Woodstock.” She spoke wryly, then went on. “She was messed up on drugs. I didn’t know if she’d come out of it. Her mind cleared in Wyoming. When we got back, we found this beautiful stranger sitting in the living room. He used to wear white robes like Jesus and spoke in poetry. A fake guru, speaking bull, seducing everyone. Everyone was stoned all the time and sleeping with whoever. Chel was the one with the money. Ash took her over the minute she walked in the door, or he thought he did. Chel always knew what was what. She knew Ash for what he was long before I did. When she got tired of him, he turned to me. All I saw was the beautiful mask, not the devil behind it. I thought I loved him. Lee Dockery was a lot kinder.” She saw the anguish in her mother’s face. “I’m sorry, Mom. Maybe you don’t want to hear about this.”
“I need to know what happened to my daughter. Don’t you think it’s time?”
“I guess.” Carolyn rubbed her face.
“I always wondered, but I was afraid to ask. Did Chel live in the park with you?”
“No. She overdosed on heroin. A few weeks before, we went out for a long walk in the park. She gave me her father’s telephone number and said if anything happened to her, I was to call him. It scared me. I watched over her for days. The one day I didn’t…” Her voice broke.
“I’m so sorry, honey.”
“I found her sprawled across her bed. Ash was furious. He told me to lie if the paramedics asked for her name.”
“Why?”
“Why do you suppose? The money would keep being deposited as long as her father thought she was alive. When the ambulance came, I waited outside. Before they took her body away, I gave them her full name. I called her father. And then I just walked away. I didn’t look back. I didn’t care where I went or what happened to me after that.”
Carolyn raked her fingers into her hair and held her head. “I begged, Mom. I slept on benches and under bushes. I ate out of trash bins and slept in a few. I wanted to die, but I didn’t have the courage to drown myself in the ocean.” She gave a mocking laugh. “It was cold.” Sighing, she leaned back against the front of the swivel rocker. “One night I was sitting on the beach and thinking about how nice it would be to have it all over. And then I heard a guitar playing. I saw a young man wearing an Army jacket. I thought it was Charlie, at first.” Her eyes swam with tears. “Of course, it couldn’t be, but I followed him anyway. He’d made a camp in the park. He had a fire and an old sleeping bag. I was so hungry. He gave me a chocolate bar. He was a veteran. He hadn’t just bought the jacket from a surplus store; he’d served in Vietnam. I told him about Charlie. He told me about friends he’d lost in the war.”
She drew her knees up against her chest again, hugging them close. “He shared his sleeping bag. He kept me warm. I got up and wandered off. When I couldn’t find my way back, I slept on the grass. I woke up at dawn.” Tears came and spilled down her cheeks. “It was May, and little white flowers grew in the grass like stars had dropped from heaven. I felt someone touch me. He sat right there on the grass with me.”
“The young veteran?”
“No.” She shook her head, chewing her lip a moment before she had the courage to say it aloud. She never had before. “I know you won’t believe me. You’ll think I was drunk or stoned. But I hadn’t had anything since leaving Ash.” She couldn’t see Mom through her tears.
“I’ll believe anything you tell me, Carolyn.”
Carolyn drew a shuddering breath and prayed she would. “I saw Jesus.” She let the memory fill her. “He said it was time to go home. I thought He meant I was going to die. I wasn’t afraid. When I sat up, He was gone.” She had sat for hours, praying He would come back and take her with Him. “A young woman came and set up a picnic for her two children. She called her little boy Charlie.” Her voice wavered.
Her mother put a hand over her mouth.
Carolyn kept going. “It was like watching me and Charlie play together. She invited me to sit with her; she offered me a sandwich. I was so hungry. We talked. I told her about Charlie; she told me about her husband. He was MIA in Vietnam. She called her kids and loaded all of us in a van and took me to the bus station. She bought my ticket home. Her name was Mary.”
Carolyn felt the weight lifting as she talked. “She gave me her telephone number and said if you didn’t want me, she’d come and get me. I lost the slip of paper on the way home. I’ve thanked God a thousand times for her over the years, Mom. When the planes landed at Travis Air Force Base in 1973, and all those POWs came off, I cried and prayed Mary’s husband stood among them. But I’ll never know for sure if he did.”
Mom wiped tears from her cheeks, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t seem shocked or disgusted. Carolyn wondered if she could keep going and decided it was worth the risk. “You asked me why I didn’t believe you loved me.When I came home, you and Dad were ashamed of me. I could see it in your faces. When you found out I was pregnant, that was the last straw.”
“No, Carolyn. It was a shock, that’s all.”
“You and Dad asked Rev. Elias to talk to me. He told me not to come back to church.”
“What?” Mom spoke weakly, eyes wide.
“He didn’t believe I was truly repentant. He said enough to convince me I wasn’t good enough to set foot inside any church. When I came home, Dad made a point of asking me if I’d taken everything Rev. Elias said to heart. I did. Then you and Dad told me you were sending me to Los Angeles to live with Boots. You couldn’t wait to be rid of me.”
“No.
“Oma didn’t know, Mom. I never told anyone.”
“Then she must have guessed, because she left the church right after you did.”
“I assumed you and Dad felt the same way he did.”
“Of course not! If your father had known, he would’ve raised holy hell. We sent you away to protect you, not get rid of you.” She took a handkerchief from her pocket and blew her nose. “I sent you to Boots. She was my best friend! I knew she’d love you and take good care of you.” Her mouth wobbled, tears still streaming. “I wouldn’t have entrusted you to anyone else.”
Carolyn wanted to believe her, but evidence stood in the way. “The day I walked into the house, I saw a wall of pictures, all of Charlie.”
“We wanted to honor his memory.”
“I looked around the house when you and Dad went to work. There wasn’t a single picture of me anywhere. Not one.”
Her mother clenched the crumpled, damp handkerchief in her lap and looked straight into her eyes. “I put them away a few months after you disappeared. We loved you, Carolyn. We agonized over you. The truth is we grieved more over you than Charlie. We knew what happened to him. He was killed in the line of duty. Don’t forget your father was a police officer. He worked in forensics. He dealt with homicides. He had nightmares when he came home from the war. He had worse ones when you disappeared. I put your pictures away because he died a little
