Heaven or Hell (17 page)

As bizarre as it sounds, the General soon became a link to my family. First I wanted to kill him, and then I wanted to make him my family.

Here’s the other thing I find fascinating about this situation: Most of these guys can’t keep their tongues still about things they’ve heard—and well, the old guy kept his mouth shut about my girls’ accident (which was really all I told him about, not about Teresa or Marion).

The General would come and go, and sometimes he’d come back sober and physically clean. But for the most part, the General was a mystery. He’d dry up—this wasn’t an easy task—and then a few months later he’d be back at the bottle again. Over this last year, his health kept getting worse. When he’d go missing, we’d head out to the streets and bring him home.

Thoughts of the General weigh heavily on my mind, and as I sit quietly and think about it, the old guy might have Alzheimer’s disease or some form of dementia. I think he’d sober up and forget he sobered up, and then he’d start drinking again. I also believe this plays a part in his having no memory of who he is.

Now we’ve been trying to find the General for the last few days. I’ve got a dreadful feeling about him going missing this time. I believe I’ll never again see the old guy alive.

Jessie closed the book. She stood up and stretched as she approached her brother’s bed, where he lay asleep with tubes still attached to various parts of his body.

“Joe, you sap. How could you not call or see your daughter before this?” Jessie spoke in a tone just above a whisper.

Her brother had always attracted messes into his life, but his wife Marion was different. She was the best thing that ever happened to him, and for several years they’d lived with their girls like the perfect family. Could it be that Marion was strong enough to reach across the grave and get to Joe? Well, if anyone could do it, it would be Marion. What about Angela? She’d had such a hard time at school and dealing with the other kids. That little girl was smart, for sure; her sad life and her death were a genuine tragedy.

Joe coughed, and his eyelids flickered.

“Are you waking up?” Jessie asked.

He turned his head toward her and opened his eyes with a squint. “It’s bright in here,” Joe whispered and coughed.

Jessie moved to the doorway and dimmed the switch. “It doesn’t seem that bright to me, Joe. I think your body’s sensitive.”

“Ya think?” Joe said.

“Okay, smarty pants. You want some water?”

“Please.” Joe’s face shined over with a mist of perspiration on it and his breathing appeared shallow and too fast.

Jessie found the fresh water pitcher, cup, and straw that Willa had placed on the ledge by the window. She poured a cup for Joe and held the straw to his lips so he could drink. Joe placed his free hand over Jessie’s hand holding the straw.

“We need to talk,” Joe said with a stronger voice now, a few steps louder than a whisper.

Jessie nodded. “Yes, we do.”

He sipped the water and moved his nose toward the table. Jessie got the hint and placed the cup down but continued to stand next to her brother in silence. He blinked his eyes and appeared to be trying to move his body. Jessie frowned at her brother’s self-inflicted condition. If only his life hadn’t gotten so out of control. She pulled the remote up from the side of the bed and placed it on Joe’s chest.

“You’ve got quite the imagination, Joe,” Jessie said as she waved the notebook in front of him.

Joe held the bed remote in front of his eyes to examine the settings but turned to look at the notebook and nodded toward Jessie. He then squinted again at the remote and pushed a button. His feet moved up. “Oops,” he muttered and continued to push buttons until he’d positioned himself as upright as possible.

“I don’t have much time.” Joe’s voice was almost inaudible.

Jessie nodded.

Joe continued, “I’m not good at talking about any of this. I didn’t have enough time to finish that notebook.”

“It looks like an unusual attempt to give your daughter an excuse for your actions. What really happened, Joe?” Jessie asked.

“I’ve seen and talked to Angela, too. Since I’ve been in this coma, I mean. My daughters are stuck. Both of them, and it’s my fault.” Joe closed his eyes.

“Wake up and talk to me.” Jessie didn’t recognize her own strained voice.

His eyes opened. “I’m awake. I’ve just seen better days.”

“I bet,” Jessie said.

Joe smacked his lips. “I’ve been hearing things for years, and when I meditate quietly I can speak to Marion.”

“Are you crazy? That’s what you’re going to tell Teresa?” Jessie felt a splash of heat on her cheeks.

“It’s the truth.”

“The truth? Joe, I think you don’t know the truth.” She frowned.

“Let me explain. I know you’re angry, and you’ve every right to be …”

Jessie interrupted. “You’re a son of a bitch. After all this time, you offer a tall tale. Did it ever occur to you that you were hallucinating?”

“I’ve had hallucinations, and that’s not what this is.” Joe swallowed. “If you’ll listen to me—this is real. More real than the moment we’re sharing now. My little girl watched you and Teresa visit the church. Angela saw the picture of her and Teresa—you know the one with the boots. The photo in my office, you saw it too. She watches Teresa get ready every morning, and she’s been at Teresa’s side for years. Angela knows JJ. I didn’t make this stuff up. I wasn’t there. She told me herself.”

“Well, the priest was there, and he certainly could have described our visit to you. So your knowing what happened doesn’t tell me much.” Jessie pursed her lips together.

“Father Benjamin will tell you—he hasn’t said a word to me about this.”

“Come on now, Joe. I find this hard to believe.” Jessie shook her head.

“I know.” Joe sighed.

Jessie pulled the chair closer to her brother’s bedside and sat down. “What do you want?” she asked.

“I’ll be gone soon, and I’m going to take Angela home to be with her mother. For some reason I find it necessary to communicate this to Teresa. Marion is insistent that Teresa has missed out on a lot during her life. She says both of our daughters are stuck, just in different ways.”

In reality, though Jessie had challenged Joe quite harshly, to some extent she wished she could accept his version of events. She wanted to forgive her brother for the heartache he’d given them. But his so-called “experience” wasn’t very believable, and right now all she could hope for was to prevent him from doing any more harm.

“Teresa has a successful business and raised her son—on her own. She’s not on the streets, no drugs, no real suffering other than the pain you inflicted, and the damage you’re about to create after all these years. Why now, Joe? We spent years trying to find you. You broke that little girl’s heart. I can’t believe any of this is about her. It’s about you, isn’t it?” She needed to show him how selfish he was being in trying to convince them of this crazy story.

“Jessie, my daughter is unhappy and lonely. Do you know what she does most of the time? She cleans.” Joe stopped, took a deep breath, and continued, slower now. “Sure, Teresa’s made some good decisions in her life, but she’s also made some bad decisions and you know this in your heart. My daughter is miserable. This isn’t the life she was supposed to lead.”

Jessie knew Joe was right, but she didn’t want him to see her niece in that way only, and she didn’t want him messing with Teresa’s head. “So what do you think you can do about it now? Teresa, in spite of your failed support, has turned into a wonderful human being. Your daughter doesn’t need you.” She conveyed not only Teresa’s hurt, but also her own on Teresa’s behalf.

“Jessie, I want to try to help my daughter. I’m not sure what I can do about it. I know I played a big part in messing up her life, so I need to try to help her to fix it. And for her sake, sometimes just knowing things can help.”

“Knowing what? This ludicrous story you’ve concocted?”

“It’s the truth, as I see it.” He might’ve been weak but the look he gave her was filled with conviction.

“The truth isn’t always the best solution, Joe. But my goodness, if your truth is contained in this book, it sounds like fiction.” Jessie waved the notebook above her head. “You know, Teresa lived her own version of the truth, a very solid, real one. Say your good-byes now and leave the girl alone. No more melodrama, please.” He said he wanted to help his daughter, but from Jessie’s viewpoint, the best way he could do that was not throw her into further turmoil.

Joe coughed and she could hear the phlegm build-up in his chest. He wiped a hand across his mouth. “I know you did a lot for her, Jessie. Thank you for stepping in and taking care of Teresa. I made a promise to Marion, and if I live long enough I’ll keep that promise.”

“Does Father Benjamin know about all this?” Jessie asked.

“No. This is a family affair,” Joe mumbled.

“He wouldn’t believe you either, would he?” Jessie leaned in closer to Joe.

“Jessie, very few people, if any, would believe me.” Joe shut his eyes.

“We finally agree on something.” Jessie laughed.

“I’m sorry, Jessie. If I could do it all over differently this time, I would.” Joe opened his eyes part of the way; peeled dry skin was stuck to his lips. He spoke slightly above a whisper and wheezed a little. “Have you heard about the General? Did he ever show up?”

Jessie felt the muscles in her shoulders loosen as she relaxed a bit. “I don’t think so, Joe. I’m sorry about that.”

“Well, let me know if you happen to hear something about him.” Joe closed his eyes.

“You guys ever try to find out who he is by fingerprints?”

“Oh yeah,” Joe said opening his eyes. “We tried missing persons, the media, fingerprints. Nothing came up.”

“What about hypnosis?” Jessie asked.

“That’s a good idea. I never thought of that.” Joe nodded. “Jessie, what’ve you been up to all these years? Is Uncle Joe around?”

“Does Marion see him?” Jessie raised a brow and let out a touch of a chuckle.

“Not that I know of.” Joe winked.

“That’s because he’s alive. Uncle Joe’s had some hip issues and health problems. He’s in an old folks’ home.”

“I missed a lot.” Joe looked away from Jessie at the moment she thought she saw his eyes fill with tears.

“That you did. Was it worth it?”

“Nope. Not a bit.”

Jessie sat at her brother’s bedside and looked at the mess he’d made of his body. Skinny limbs, a bloated belly, the man appeared to have no muscle in his entire body, and he looked older than Uncle Joe, though the gray was merely speckled across his full head of hair.

“What’s your plan with Teresa?” Jessie asked.

“I’m not sure. I was hoping she’d read the book.”

“I’m not certain that’s a good idea. Teresa wanted no part of this, you know. She sent it home with me.”

“I know.”

“Did your priest friend read this?” Jessie waved the notebook in front of Joe’s face.

“I don’t think so. As I said, I wasn’t finished. My big plan was to let her read it and then she’d understand.”

“Understand what, that her father’s a lunatic?”

Jessie watched Joe take as deep a breath as he could, and then her brother made eye contact with her and spoke. “It is what it is. You either believe me or you don’t. So stop it, please.”

“I’m sorry, Joe. I just think it’s insane. I’ll quit bringing it up.”

“Good, because I’m exhausted, and I’ve only dealt with you. I’m not sure I can handle Teresa, too.”

“Your daughter is a normal woman. Stop and look. It’s not like she’s on the edge of losing it all.”

“Marion says she’s miserable, lonely, and unable to connect with other people. She said that Teresa’s living in her own personal hell, one that I helped create. Is any of this true?”

Jessie thought about her niece for a moment. Teresa didn’t have close friends or a man in her life. The girl spent time at work, doting over JJ, and cleaning her shop and her house. She wasn’t involved with anything or anyone. And come to think of it, she really hadn’t been working that many hours lately. What did Teresa do with herself these days? She was a bit of a loner.

“Well, it might be somewhat true.” Jessie didn’t want to admit defeat.

“What does `somewhat’ mean?”

“Joe, she’s not miserable. At least not that I’m aware of … And I think I’d know. I’ve been around Teresa most of her life.”

“She’s been miserable most of her life, her adult life that is. Jessie, you’re too close to it to see it.”

“What is this RED ALERT on Teresa? You can’t just waltz back into her life and make an impact!” Jessie wasn’t exactly sure why she felt so angry on this topic, but she certainly was.

“Why not? I did it when I went out of her life, didn’t I?”

Jessie tried to choke back some of her response, but the effort failed. “Here we go again—you’re back and leaving. I’m going to be picking up the pieces with Teresa once more. I recommend you state your apologies, say your good-byes, and leave it at that. Can you do that, Joe? Can you do that for me?”

“No. She needs to know everything.”

Jessie had chewed on the inside of her mouth until she felt the taste of blood. Joe was going to stir it up again. After years of relative peace for the women, his train wreck was headed right at Teresa.

Jessie stood with the notebook in her hand and lifted her purse over her shoulder. She then heard words spill out of her mouth in an unrecognizable voice, one that she had no control over. “I’m going to the ladies’ room. I’ll be back.”