Cole Dust Cole Page 18

  “I will make sure Mamie is looked after.”

  “Don’t bother, she’s got people of her own. I reckon she’s done with me anyway.”

  I shook hands with my boyhood friend through the bars and took my leave. I see dark days ahead.

  “What do you say we go for a walk?” Kelly stood and moved toward the door. “I need some air.” Without another word she walked out to the porch.

  Cole slipped on one shoe and hopped across the room trying to put on the other. Kelly was on the front walk looking back at the house when Cole closed the door behind him.

  “Come on slowpoke!” Kelly said, turning and briskly starting up the drive.

  Out on the road Kelly stood waiting for Cole to catch up. She brushed her cheeks with the backs of her hands.

  “You OK?” Cole asked.

  “It was just getting to me. They seem so hopeless and lost. Doesn’t anything good ever happen to these people? I mean, how much can people take before they implode?”

  “George has already climbed into the bottle. He was an alcoholic for nearly his whole life. Seems he’s imploded to me.”

  “Does he stay with Alma?”

  “Sorry, you’ll have to wait for the movie,” Cole quipped.

  “That’s not funny. I’m serious. No wonder he drank. It’s not excusable but it is certainly understandable. The misery of being married to someone who you not only don’t love, but resent, for tricking you into marriage. I can’t imagine.”

  “He has Mattie,” Cole offered.

  “What happened to her, do you suppose?”

  “That’s what keeps me reading. She really is his wife in his heart. He taught her to read! I would love to know more about that. What I really wonder is if my father knew about her.” Then, almost as if he were speaking to himself, “Or my mother. You don’t suppose that’s why she hated my father’s family so much?”

  “Cole, what if you find something really troubling in what you read in these notebooks?” Kelly’s voice took on a thoughtful tone.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. What if there was something really bad?”

  “I can’t imagine it would affect me.”

  They walked for a ways without talking. Kelly reached out and took Cole’s hand. “Tell me about Erin’s mother,” she said softly.

  Cole was taken completely off guard. They talked of Ellie’s death, the sense of loss, the grief, but never about her. Cole took a deep breath and almost shuddered as he let it out.

  “She moved in down the street from my aunt and uncle when I was in the sixth grade. I saw her carrying a little lamp with a frilly shade from the truck. She had the curliest hair I ever saw. It was so bouncy and full of life. Like her it turned out. I remember thinking that she was the most beautiful girl on earth. I don’t think I ever even noticed girls before that.” Cole laughed and turned to Kelly. “How’s that for a memory?”

  “Go on.”

  “I only saw her when we would visit my aunt and uncle, and then not always. First day of school freshman year, I saw her in the hallway with a group of girls. I thought I was going to throw up, I got so nervous. In all the noise and confusion of that hallway it was like the earth stood still. Corny huh? But that’s the effect she always had on me. It never went away.”

  “Love sick?”

  “I guess so.” Cole chuckled. “I never thought of it like that. I finally got up the guts to ask her out on a real date the end of our sophomore year. We went to the movies.”

  “And you even remember the movie don’t you?” Kelly squeezed his hand ever so lightly.

  “I do, it was Cool Hand Luke. I don’t care if it rains or freezes long as I got my plastic Jesus on the dashboard of my car,” Cole sang.

  “Holy Mary virgin grace, help me find a parking place...” Kelly added in an exaggerated twangy southern accent.

  “I don’t remember that verse!”

  “Holy Modal Rounders. I was a sixties’ kid too.” Kelly giggled. “So then?”

  “We were two kids in love. I was always insecure enough to think that she didn’t love me as much as I loved her. We had our break ups and we would get back together. In college I was suddenly a serious journalism student, which means I thought I was way smarter than I am. About that time Ellie’s mom died. Her dad remarried. She got a little wild and weird. Ran off with a bunch of hippies. She came back to get me, wanted me to go to Mexico with her. It was at the end of the semester and I had a chance at an apprenticeship for the summer and I said no. I didn’t realize how badly it hurt her. Seemed silly at the time. Chase the sun, live free, all that. But she meant for us to be together, I didn’t see that.

  She was gone nearly a year that time. I almost worried myself sick. By the time she came back I was almost through with school. I had offers from some big papers. Things were right on target. I thought we would get married and live happily ever after.”

  “What happened?”

  “To celebrate my graduation we went away for a romantic weekend. Long walks on the beach, made love in the dunes, you know, the dream weekend.” Cole stopped talking. They walked several yards without a sound. “I told her my dreams and plans, being a writer, traveling the world and the whole glorious fantasy. She wanted a house with a picket fence and a bunch of kids and a dog. Her dream was to paint.

  In September I landed my first job. I got an assignment in Southeast Asia; Bangkok was going to be home base. I remember racing to tell Ellie; all my dreams had come true. We could marry, go to Thailand, it would be the adventure of a lifetime. She was less than thrilled; it hurt my feelings and made me mad. We got into an argument that spiraled out of control and she said things and I said things neither one of us really meant. I stormed out of her house; a week later when I left for Bangkok. I didn’t even call and say good-bye. Stupid. Seems she had news that trumped mine in spades.”

  “She was pregnant,” Kelly said softly.

  “Yep, and I didn’t see her again for over twenty years. A week later in a sweltering Bangkok hotel room, I realized I was wrong. I poured my heart out to her in a letter and asked forgiveness. No answer. Over time, all my letters went unanswered, so I figured it was over. Turns out she went to New Mexico to have the baby. Her dad threw my letters away.

  With nothing to return home to, I took several more assignments in Southeast Asia. It was nearly three years later when I came back. Her dad wouldn’t tell me where she was. I landed a job with the Wall Street Journal; New York’s a long way from California. I begged him to tell me where Ellie was so I could say good-bye. He just wouldn’t give in. He had a heart attack a month later so she never knew I was even there. Comedy of errors, huh?”

  “I know you saw her just before she passed away, but how did...”

  “God decided I needed a second chance, I guess. I pretty much hit rock bottom. I wasn’t a drunk or drug addict or anything like that, I just gave up. I didn’t care about anything. My career was in the toilet and I just sort of stumbled forward enough each day to survive. For years all I thought about, all I dreamed about, was finding Ellie. Couple times I got real close but the door always slammed shut. I figured she got her house and picket fence and I was ancient history.”

  “Then twenty years later Ellie asks you to find Erin.”

  “Yeah, that’s about it, but the funny thing is... but you’ve heard all this.”

  “Not your side of it.”

  “Ellie asked me, sort of her dying wish, to find Erin. Ellie’s husband was trying to steal Erin’s inheritance. I had no idea she was my daughter. The weird thing is, Kelly, from the moment I saw her I felt something. I thought it was that she looked so much like her mother at first but it was really something much deeper. Then when Ellie told us...” Cole stopped in mid-sentence.

  “She is a wonderful girl. A mother couldn’t ask for a finer wife for her son,” Kelly said, trying to fill the void.

  “You know, I was afraid at first that I was projecting my love for E
llie on her. But she isn’t Ellie, just like she isn’t me.” Cole sighed. “That wasn’t it at all. She was mine, part of me, my flesh and blood. I don’t know how to explain how much that meant. How proud I am.”

  “It means you’re a parent.”

  “I guess so. It just hurts sometimes to think of what I missed. Part of the plan though, I really believe that everything is part of a plan. Not some cosmic fur ball karma thing, but maybe God is looking out for fools like me and in the end all the pain and waste in life is for a reason. Who would have thought I would ever be walking down a country road in Oklahoma with a beautiful woman like you? Or have a granddaughter? Or a son-in-law who’s a doctor? The more you think about it the crazier it gets, and I just can’t chalk it up to coincidence.” Cole to a deep breath and let it out. “So that’s the story.”

  “So what about Ellie, I mean, what happened when...” Kelly’s words faded with her embarrassment at maybe asking something too personal.

  “It was closure. I was healed, if you will. In the short time we had, I told her my regrets and asked her forgiveness. I learned she didn’t ignored my letters, she thought I forgot her. All those years, we longed for each other and never knew. That was a great loss; we could have been so good together.” Cole smiled. “We were lucky in one way though, we had time to grieve together. So when she slipped away, my heart was at peace. I was able to be there for Erin. In a way, maybe that is the legacy of my love for Ellie.” Cole stopped and looked at Kelly.

  “I think I love you, Cole Sage.”

  With the index finger of his closed hand Cole lifted Kelly’s chin and kissed her.

  * * *

  Cole stood at the end of the driveway and watched the Mustang fade from view. She spent thirteen days in Orvin. The world outside of the small town withdrew into shadows. He called Erin almost every day; he chatted with Jenny and joked with Ben about acquiring an accent. Kelly told them all about the house, dinner at Big Pete’s and Ernie and arm fishing. She didn’t tell them about the run in with Willie and Alvin. Cole smiled at the thought of Kelly’s maternal desire to protect her children from worry.

  As he turned and looked at the house, Cole wished he had a camera. In just short of two weeks the sad old house, surrounded by tumbleweeds and rusty farm equipment, turned into a charming home. The white of the house was nearly blinding in the bright morning sun. The deep forest green of the trim and front door spoke of the pride Cole had in the job he did. The ground once covered in the dry mountains of tumbleweeds was now covered with a soft green blanket of new seed grass. Ernie flushed and sealed the old sprinkler system. The nightly sprinkling refreshed the parched earth, so long untilled and thirsty.

  As he walked up the driveway Cole considered what he would do for the next seventeen days. The ring of his cell phone broke into his thoughts.

  “Miss me?” Kelly’s voice was almost drowned out by the car radio and the bad connection.

  “Not yet, maybe in another five minutes it will kick in.”

  “Listen!” She held the phone to the speaker. The radio was playing “California Girls”.

  “That helps!” Cole yelled into the phone.

  The radio went silent. “Just wanted to keep you in mind what you were missing. Cole?”

  “Still here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Making me feel special. It was a great week. Hurry home.”

  “You are special, who else would put up with me and my crazy Oklahoma house project for a week. See you in seventeen days.”

  “I’ll be at the airport to pick you up.”

  “Then straight to Tommy’s Joint?”

  “I have something a little more romantic planned,” Kelly teased.

  “Romantic is good.”

  “I’ll call when I get home.”

  “Yes, please. Have a safe trip, and yes, I miss you already.”

  The phone was silent again. Cole snapped it closed and stuck it back in his pocket.

  FIFTEEN

  The morning sun threw long shadows across the yard and the warmth felt good on Cole’s face. His eyes grew heavy and he half dozed leaning against the front porch rail. His relaxation was short lived though; the rap-ity-pop of Ernie’s Quad Honda engine grew ever louder until it stopped at the foot of the stairs.

  “What the hell you doin’, sun tannin’?”

  “Just enjoying the morning,” Cole answered.

  “The hell you say,” Ernie said, dismounting his ATV. “You want a beer?”

  “No thanks.”

  Ernie twisted the top of a Miller bottle and sat down next to Cole on the top step. “How come you don’t drink Sage, you one of those Blue Law Baptists?”

  “No, actually it probably goes back to the man who once owned this house.”

  “George?”

  “Yes, but not the one you mean,” Cole replied. “George Sage, my grandfather. He was an alcoholic. My dad always told the horror stories of growing up with him. I decided at an early age that would never happen to me.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing,” Ernie said, taking a long pull on the bottle. “Aaahhh.”

  “You know Ernie, I know myself well enough to know that with the combination of genetics and my addictive personality type, I would no doubt be just as big a drunk as my grandfather.”

  “How’s that?” Ernie frowned, obviously lost in Cole’s explanation.

  “There’s no middle ground with me. When I work, I go after a story until I have turned over every rock, and uncovered every possible angle. If I collect records or movies or baseball cards or balls of twine, I have to have everything possible or I’m not satisfied. So if I were to drink, I would finish the case, empty the bottle, not sober up until I ran out of money or died.”

  “The hell you say. You really think that way?”

  “I don’t know how else to think. I may be all wet, but if I’m not, it’s a terrible price to pay.”

  “What do you do when you’re pissed off or sad or angry or damn lonely?”

  “Oh I don’t know, listen to music. Watch a movie, read a book. Believe it or not, at home I ride my bike across the Golden Gate Bridge.”

  “The hell you say!”

  “Probably done it a hundred times since I moved to San Francisco.” Cole smiled.

  Ernie took a sip of beer. “That’s the damnedest thing I ever heard. Tell me somethin’, you a Republican?”

  “I have the lyrics of a song by a guy named Steven Van Zandt tacked up in my office called “The Patriot” that pretty much sums up my political leanings. Let’s see,” Cole paused trying to remember the lyric exactly, “I ain’t no communist, and I ain’t no capitalist, and I ain’t no socialist, and I sure ain’t no imperialist, and I ain’t no Democrat, and I ain’t no Republican either, and I only know one party, and its name is freedom, I am a patriot.” Cole stopped and looked at Ernie. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “Who’d you vote for president last time ‘round?”

  “Nobody. Who says we have to always vote for the lesser of two evils. I didn’t like either one so I voted for neither.” Cole waited for the response he knew was forthcoming.

  “The hell you say. Swear to Christ Cole, I never heard nobody ever talk like you before. Next you’ll tell me you’re part nigger.” Ernie laughed.

  “You ever know any black people, Ernie?” Cole asked quietly.

  “Oh shit, here it comes.”

  “I’m serious, have you ever had a black friend?”

  “Hell no. Why would I want to?” Ernie finished the bottle and stood.

  “No different than having a Greek for a friend,” Cole replied sharply.

  “Watch it.” Ernie pointed the neck of the bottle towards Cole.

  “How do you know you wouldn’t like a person without getting to know them? God created us all equally, right? We are only really defined by our deeds and character. I’ve known a lot of white people that are truly despicable characters.” />
  “Jesus, Cole, you sound like Jesse friggin’ Jackson.”

  “And you sound like a bigot. Which you figure is worse?”

  “I like you but you’re about to get your ass kicked.”

  “That’s the way!” Cole said, like a sideline coach. “When all else fails, let’s kick somebody’s ass. If that doesn’t work we’ll lynch them. Isn’t that the way it’s always worked? You’re too smart a guy to resort to punching when something is too difficult to think about. I asked a simple question. You still haven’t answered me. Yes or no, have you ever known a black person?”

  “No.”

  “OK then, how do you know you wouldn’t like someone just because of their skin color?”

  “That ain’t all there is to it!”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, they’re lazy, they steal...”

  “That’s based on your vast knowledge that includes zero black people you have known.”

  “I read the papers, watch TV.”

  “But no firsthand experience. That’s like me saying all Greek people work in the sewer. If you were the only one I ever met that’s what I could say, right? Rats eat cheese, Ernie eats cheese, Ernie is a rat? Think about what you are saying. Or does your prejudice extend to other people you haven’t known too? How many Chinese have you known? Jews, Filipinos, Cambodians, Russians, Mexicans, Ethiopians?”

  “What are you, the goddamn National Geographic?”

  “Just trying to make a point. Hate is wrong. When you apply it with a roller it’s even worse. It’s just wrong to judge everybody in a group by one or two bad examples.”

  “You learn all this shit in college? Glad I didn’t go.”

  “Nope. My folks told me to judge everyone on their own merits. The longer I live, the better a rule it is to live by. Does that mean I like all Black people, no, Asians, no, Whites, absolutely not. One at a time; I make friends or let ‘em go.”

  “I ain’t buyin’ it so easy. You lettin’ me go?” Ernie twisted the cap from another bottle of Miller and put one foot up on the porch step.