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Wednesday, November 08, 2023

Children Lost on the Darkest of Nights: The Legend of Peg Powler - Chapter 4

 

Children Lost on The Darkest Of Nights:

The Legend of Peg Powler

(A Sewing Box Mystery)

Chapter 1: Friday, November 1, 1991, 1:51 am

Chapter 2: Saturday October 29, 2011, 11:37 am

Chapter 3: Sunday October 30, 2011, 10:30 am

    Chapter 4, Monday, October 31, 2012, 8:01 am, Halloween

    Bright and early.  Bright and early.  

    Missy sat in her Honda Civic outside Jeanette’s house waiting for her aunt, who was busy giving final instructions to a woman Missy presumed was her dog sitter.  Ducking low in the car, Missy could make out a bit of the woman’s profile. She was young; younger than Missy and much younger than Jeanette.  She had what looked like a million ear piercings, a rhinestone stud in her left nostril, and, possibly, a small silver ring in her lower lip.  A lock of bright pink hair melded into the rest of her over-processed bleached hair which sprang from her head in spikey shanks.  Yep, that backpack definitely went with that person, no doubt about it.  There was something vaguely familiar about the young woman, but Missy couldn’t place it.

    Jeanette was standing on the top stoop of her front steps with Pancho and Lefty scampering around her feet.  She bent down, picking up each dog, giving each one a kiss before handing them over to the younger woman.  She then picked up her gigantic purse, along with a knap sack, and a grocery bag with handles.  Anticipating that all that stuff was coming with them whether Missy wanted it to or not, Missy popped the trunk.  Pick your battles, she reminded herself.   The young woman, dogs in hand, stepped back, and her aunt let the door close.

    As Jeanette moved toward the car, a cab pulled up behind Missy’s vehicle.  Out popped a sharply-dressed woman wearing a large-brimmed hat and oversized sun glasses.  Her shoulder-length, reddish-brunette hair obscured Missy’s view of the woman’s face.  Jeanette stopped dead in her tracks.  The cab driver got out, opened his trunk, and retrieved two overstuffed suitcases, placing both on the curb.  The woman paid the cab driver, in cash. and as he sped away, it was then that Missy realized who the woman was… her mother.

    Dorie.

    Missy felt her body go cold.  Now she understood Jeanette’s reaction.  Once over the shock of seeing her mother, Missy’s mind began to race.  When was the last time she’d seen her?  Dorie approached Jeanette, gesturing back to her luggage.  She was smiling.  Jeanette was not.  Her aunt then began shaking her head.  Dorie immediately began explaining, in that rather whiney way that Missy had gotten used to over the years, where nothing was ever her fault.  That’s when Jeanette said something and pointed toward Missy’s car. Dorie spun about, her carefully lacquered mouth forming a perfect ‘o’.  

    Now Missy wished she could disappear. 

    Her mother stood in place, lowering her sun glasses just enough so that her eyes were now visible.  Again, she smiled.  It was her ‘aww-shucks-ain’t-I-a-stinker’ smile.  Missy had seen it before.  It was ingratiating.  And annoying.   Especially when it’s your mother, and  you’re supposedly her daughter, and yet, there really isn’t anything connecting you other than the matter of birth.  

    Missy sank inside herself.  Deep. She had a decision to make.  She could be cold, rebuff her mother, and attempt to hold her accountable for the lousy way she'd made her feel.  Or… she could suck it up, realize, hey, it’s Dorie - Dorie, exactly as she’s always been - get over it and get on with it.  It’s not as if she was ever going to change.  Inhaling deeply, Missy felt a broad, plastic smile plant itself on her face as she got out of the car.  She beamed at Dorie, who, not having a clue how her daughter was really feeling, took this as a sign of acceptance.  Theatrically, Dorie spread her arms in a gesture of motherly welcome.  

    Thing is, Dorie was anything but welcome.  As Missy approached for ‘the big hug’, she caught Jeanette’s eye.  Her aunt was pissed.  

    “Missy!” her mother enthused.  Encased in her mother’s tentacles, Missy did a quick assessment.  She smelled good.  Expensive.  And she looked good, especially for a woman in her mid-fifties.  Her dress, though a bit juvenile, was pretty and more for summer than fall.  The pastel yellow fabric with its pale floral print topped off with the sunhat made Missy think of something Andrew Wyeth might have painted.  Her mother’s shoes, on the other hand, were totally impractical.  How the hell did she remain upright given that those spikey heels must surely be inching their way into Jeanette’s front lawn?  “So goooood to see you,” her mother purred.  Holding Missy away from her body, it was now Dorie’s opportunity to do a quick assessment.  Missy couldn’t help but cringe.  In her mother’s eyes she caught a glimpse of something judgmental, disapproving.  Missy fought the urge to push her mother away and tell her to go to hell, and instead focused on the carefully constructed smile that was now keeping civility in place.  At least for the time being.

    Missy decided to be direct.  Doing anything else would only lead to her mother’s usually form of social subterfuge. Pleasantly as possible, given the circumstances, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

    Dorie pouted.  Her lips; they appeared a bit larger than they should.  Was it her lipstick or had she had something done? “Is that any way for you to say ‘hello’?”

    Missy stood her ground.  She did her best to maintain an even tone.  “Aunt Jeanette and I are just about to hit the road.  We have a whole day planned.  I wish you would have called ahead…”  By this point Jeanette had joined them, and was now standing behind and to the right of her younger sister.  Missy could tell that her aunt was monitoring her niece's face, trying to gauge how Missy was reacting and what she might be thinking.  But Missy wouldn’t look Jeanette in the eyes.  Instead, she focused on her mother’s lips.  Missy may have been smiling, but inside she was bracing herself for the litany of lies and excuses that would soon pour forth.  Because they always did.  

    “Well, I would have called, but things… changed suddenly.  I guess I just got in my head that it was time to come for a visit.  Because I missed you.  Both of you.  Family is sooo important.  And it’s so good to see you.  You both look… wonderful.  Just wonderful.”  Dorie stopped speaking.  Her eyes were wide.  They matched the size of her lies.  Or, maybe, thought Missy, just maybe her mother truly wanted to believe the words that came out of her mouth.  She knew Jeanette wasn’t buying it.  Missy knew she shouldn’t either.

    So who kicked you to the curb this time?”  Missy grimaced.  She could always count on her aunt to be… blunt.

    Dorie swallowed hard and slowly turned her head toward her sister.  “No one,” she asserted, “at least, no one important.”  She turned back to Missy, big eyes and big smile back in place.  “What’s this about a day trip?”

    “We were just leaving.”

     “You mean like… shopping?”

     Missy shook her head. “A road trip. We’re on our way to St. Petersburg.”

     “Really?”  Missy immediately regretted telling her.  She could tell Dorie was excited at the prospect.  Her mother had witnessed, from afar, the media attention Missy and Jeanette received when they helped solve the Jack Arneson case last spring and had, in fact, tried to get in on it, by granting interviews – that is, until Jeanette had put a stop to it.  

    Dorie began peppering them with questions. “What for?  Unfinished business?  Will there be a press conference?  Or?  Something else?  Is it about that boy again?  Or new?  Is it something new?”

    Jeanette sighed.  She moved next to Missy in order to face her suddenly overly-animated sister head on.  “We are going to spend the day at the library, the newspaper, a little museum, and then dig through a bunch of records at the town hall,” she explained.  “Nothing exciting.  I don’t think it’s anything you’d be into.  And we were just about to leave, so….”  Jeanette, gesturing palms up, left the hint dangling out there; a hint the rest of the world wouldn’t have had any trouble comprehending. But then, Dorie had always seemed to have lived in a world of her own.

    “Maybe I could tag along with you!  My bags are packed.  And are still sitting by the curb, right over there…” Dorie looked in Missy’s direction.

    Missy knew this was her cue to run over and retrieve her mother’s bags, something she'd typically do, but they looked heavy and Missy, quite frankly, simply didn’t want to.

    Jeanette grimaced and then decided to try to reason with her sister. “It’s not the kind of trip you’d enjoy, Dorie. There will be a lot of dust and mold, and Missy and I will be spending most of our time reading.  It’s a small town.  Really small.  And boring. ”

    “Boring?  Not according to what I’ve heard on the news.  You guys had quite the adventure last time.  It sounds fun.  I want in.”

    Missy decided to take a shot. “Mom.  Trust me.  You will be bored.”

    Perhaps Missy, having invoked the ‘Mom’ word, had thrown Dorie off her game.  Or maybe she was starting to buy what they were telling her.  “Well…” she drawled, “I suppose I could stay here and wait for you to come back.”

    “Yeah, that’s not going to work.”  Jeanette’s abruptness caught Missy by surprise.  What was she doing?  Wasn’t the whole point to have Dorie wait here?

    Dorie, too, seemed caught off guard by Jeanette’s tone. She smiled widely. “Why not?”

    Jeanette’s eyes narrowed, shooting like laser beams into her sister’s.  “My dog sitter is staying here.  You remember? My dog sitter?”

    Dorie grew flushed.  “Oh.”  She looked over to her suitcases, giving Missy the impression that her mother was considering grabbing her bags and making a run for it.  When she spoke again, Dorie’s voice was flat and dull.  “Yeah, not sure I’m prepared to deal with that today.”

    There was a slight pause in the conversation.  Missy could see that her mother’s mind was working overtime.   Jeanette allowed enough time for the dust to settle before asking, “So what are you going to do, Dorie?”

    Dorie looked at her sister, her face suddenly bright as a light bulb. “Go to St. Petersburg with you!”

     Miffed, Jeanette turned on her heel and began walking toward the car, with Dorie, whose heels had pierced the turf, awkwardly hobbling behind.  “Aww, come on.  I have no place else to go.  And that’s what family is supposed to be about.”

    Jeanette stopped short.  She slowly turned to face her sister.  Enunciating each word with a steely jaw, her aunt asked her sister, “And just what exactly is family supposed to be all about, Dorie, huh?  Do tell me.  Because your definition and mine?  Not only are they not in the same language, but they also probably come from different solar systems.”

     Dorie wouldn’t back down. “They are the place you go when you have no place else to go.”

    Jeanette’s face locked into a hard resolve.  Hallmark card sentiment aside, she couldn’t argue with that.  Sensing this, Dorie spoke again, though in a much quieter tone.  She pointed in the general direction of her luggage, and not taking her eyes off her sister, said, “Missy, grab my luggage and throw it in the trunk.”

    Missy didn’t know what to do.  So she did nothing.  Finally, Jeanette’s eyes moved to hers.  Her aunt gave her a single, affirmative nod of the head before storming off toward the car.

     Sensing victory, Dorie turned brave. “I call shotgun.”

     Jeanette didn’t even bother to turn around.  “I don’t think so.”

     Missy hurried to explain.  “Ummm… yeah, Aunt Jeanette likes to sit up front.  She needs the room. For her big purse.”

     Dorie smiled.  It was her ‘mean girls’ smile. “Well, for her big something, am I right?”  Missy didn’t respond. Okay,” her mother sighed, “it’s the back seat for me.”  She removed her sun hat, swinging it back and forth as she walked, like a carefree girl. “I should change, though.  Well, maybe if we stop somewhere.  Is there a wayside rest stop or something?  No?  Well, anyplace then.” She then stopped abruptly, her demeanor changing. Missy?  My bags?”  Order issued, Dorie turned on her heels and, without so much as a glance back at her daughter, slipped into the backseat.

     Rolling her eyes, Missy made her way over to the Louis Vuitton waiting curbside.  As she threw the heavy bags in the trunk, her aunt was stowing her knapsack.  Apparently, the giant purse and grocery bag were coming in the front seat.  That was fine.  This time, Missy had thought ahead enough to pack a little bag for herself.  They had learned a lot during their last visit to St. Petersburg; things like the clothing at Shopko is best left for the people who shop at Shopko.  With the addition of Dorie’s luggage, the trunk was now threateningly full.   

     Out of the corner of her mouth, Jeanette said, “I am not looking forward to this.”  She cocked her head in the general direction of Dorie.

     Missy laughed. “Well, this is what happens when unexpected things show up on your doorstep.”

--- ---

Here You Are Again - Emilia Tarrant

2 comments:

whkattk said...

Are you planning to publish these either print or e-book?

Sixpence Notthewiser said...

Uh Oh.
Dorie's gonna be trouble...

XOXO