Twisted Roots

  "Oh. Oh, yeah, sure," the owner said, nodding, but he still looked suspicious. "Okay, let's do the paperwork. I've rented this baby out ten times without a single problem." he added, sounding more threatening now. "She has a rebuilt Ford engine under the hood. Should give you no trouble if you don't abuse her."

  "We won't do that." Uncle Linden said with a calm sense of assurance that obviously impressed the owner.

  He grunted. "I was just in there checking every appliance and everything else. Nothin's broken. You can go in there and confirm that while I go get the paperwork,' he said and headed for the house.

  "Thank you." Uncle Linden said.

  He nodded and walked off.

  Heyden looked at me and then at Uncle Linden. "You're doing great. Uncle Linden. Thanks."

  "Piece of cake." Uncle Linden said, still looking quite amused and excited. "Shall we?" he asked, gesturing toward the coach door.

  "Right." Heyden opened it, and we all stepped up and in. The first thing that struck me was the odor. It smelled like stale beer and cheese. Of course, there was no linen of any sort, not that I would want to use it if there had been. Heyden and I checked the refrigerator, the stove, the microwave, and the sink. Everything did appear to be working despite appearances that would suggest otherwise.

  "I hope the toilet works." I muttered to myself. All the faucets were rusty, stains in the sinks. The floor of the coach had a cheap linoleum broken in many places. The layout was simple with a bedroom in the rear. The sofa opened to produce another bed, the one Uncle Linden would have.

  It suddenly occurred to me that Uncle Linden would know Heyden and I had slept together and would be sleeping together now. When I gazed at the one real bed. I felt myself flush with the realization. What would we do?

  Heyden came up beside me, anticipating my thoughts.

  "I'm sleeping in the cabover." Heyden whispered. "Don't worry about it."

  I looked back at Uncle Linden, who was still smiling as he moved through the coach and then went to the driver's seat.

  "It's been a long time since I drove!" he shouted back to us. "I'd better let you get it under way. Maybe later I'll take a turn at it."

  "Right," Heyden said, smiling at me. "He's like a kid again." We heard the door open and the owner stepped up.

  "Well?" he said. "Everything's in order. right?"

  "Yes." Heyden said quickly.

  The owner handed my card back to me.

  "I copied all the numbers down." he said and turned to Heyden. "You folks break anything, you folks fix it."

  "We understand." Heyden said, trying desperately not to appear too anxious. He reminded me of a horse. chafing at the bit.

  The owner held his gaze steady, "I hope so." he said.

  Heyden handed him the cash, and he counted it out and then he gave Heyden the keys.

  "I got the time marked down. The deal is six months to the day. You bring it back late, you pay for an extra day."

  "Okay," Heyden said. "Thanks."

  The owner looked at Uncle Linden, who was sitting in the driver's seat and gazing out as if he could already see the beautiful scenery.

  "Yeah. well. mind everything I told You. The manuals are all here."

  "Thanks again." Heyden said.

  The owner looked at us one more time and then stepped out and closed the door.

  Heyden turned to me.

  "We've got it," he said, his eyes as bright and joyful as Christmas lights. "We're off. Uncle Linden," he said.

  "What? Oh. Good. good," Uncle Linden said and got out of the driver's seat.

  Heyden got into it. studied the dashboard a moment, and then started the engine. I thought it made a lot of noise. but he didn't seem to notice.

  "Fasten your seatbelts!" he cried, then shifted and started out of the driveway. I had to admit he looked as if he had been driving motor homes far years. Seconds later we were moving down the street.

  "I'm going to get us to the 95." he said. "We'll go for a while and then pull off and find a department store."

  "Good plan." Uncle Linden said. He had taken the seat beside him.

  I found I was holding my breath on and off. I actually felt a little numb.

  We were doing it. We were actually leaving. Heyden started to hum what had become our theme song, Leaving on a Motor Home.

  Surely this was a wonderful idea. I told myself. Look how happy Uncle Linden appears to be, looking out his window, watching the scenery pass, saying goodbye to the only world he has ever known, but a world that never wanted or welcomed him. He wasn't going off to start a new life the way we were exactly. He was escaping. And then I thought Heyden and I hadn't been living in a residency, but all three of us felt the same way.

  We were all escaping.

  .

  It soon felt like a prolonged picnic, an outing

  that didn't end. About an hour and a half into the ride. Heyden decided it was time to pull off and get our shopping done. He took the first exit, and ten minutes later we pulled into the parking lot for a sprawling mall.

  "What's first?" he asked.

  "Let's get what we need for the house," I said.

  "Yes, our house," Uncle Linden seconded,

  Heyden drove toward the department store, and we got out of the motor home.

  "She does drive well," he said, gesturing back at it as we walked toward the entrance of the department store, "I guess he wasn't lying to us." "I think you would have rented an old horse and buggy if you had to. Heyden.'

  "Probably," he admitted. laughing.

  We went into the store and immediately began to behave like two people who had just arrived from a third-world country. Even Uncle Linden joined in on our childlike excitement, pouncing on the basic clothes and things he needed. After I filled our cart with what I considered the necessities-- sheets, pillows, pillow-cases and blankets, towels and washcloths-- we bought decorative pictures in gilded frames, a clock, two area rugs, and, at Uncle Linden's insistence, a small television set and a DVD player. "I've been asking for one of these back at the home. but Mrs. Robinson insisted it wasn't necessary. The other residents fall asleep watching television. What difference did it make how good the picture was?"

  "Now you have it. Uncle Linden," Heyden told him.

  "Yes. Now I have it."

  I had to get another cart for our kitchen supplies, dishes, silverware, some pots and pans and paper goods. Our bill at the register was over three thousand dollars. Uncle Linden didn't hesitate to pay for it. "We're cutting deeply into our bankroll," I warned Heyden.

  "Don't worry about money. We're going to get work sooner than you can imagine," he assured me. How I wished I had his confidence and optimism about everything. Was it because he came from so much darker a place than I did that he had so much sunlight in his eyes now? Where my steps and motions were tentative and cautious, his were quick and reckless. Buy this, do that, don't worry about tomorrow. How did he get such a warranty on the future? I wondered, and hoped that whatever left him with such sanguinity would infect me the same way soon.

  Moving on to the supermarket, we truly behaved like people just let out of the loony bin. Uncle Linden lunged for cookies and cereals he hadn't had in ages. I tried to buy as sensibly as I could to keep our bill low, but between him and Heyden, both acting like children in a candy store, piling

  confections and ice cream into the cart, as well as cases of soda. I soon gave up. This bill reached over four hundred dollars.

  We were so foolish, too, because our small refrigerator couldn't hold all the things that had to be kept frozen. We ended up having to eat a half dozen ice-cream pops. I chastised them both, but they only laughed and cried, "Pass me another before it melts!" I went about organizing the bedrooms and the foods in our small cabinets. Three hours later we took exit 84 and pulled off the highway and parked in what was considered a scenic place. From where we were, we could see Canaveral and one of the space shuttle launch pads.

  There I prepared o
ur first dinner: a salad with macaroni and cheese.

  "I don't want anyone to think I'm much of a cook," I warned. "I've never had to do much in the kitchen."

  'Don't worry about it," Heyden said. "I have. I'll tackle the more complicated dinners, like steak and French fries.'

  Uncle Linden laughed and then declared my macaroni and cheese was ten times better than the slop Mrs. Robinson put out for her guests.

  "She has no idea how to season anything. Now my mother, she was a good cook for someone who had been brought up like a princess. She liked to cook, to create different versions of different meals, 'You're an artist with paint. Linden.' she would tell me. 'I'll be one with food.'"

  'Tell me more about her," I urged, It was always so difficult to get Mommy to talk about those days. Uncle Linden sat back. smiling at the pictures, events, and words he had begun to draw out of his well of memories.

  "She had a peacefulness about her that would also manage to calm the storms raging inside me. I can't remember her raising her voice." He thought a moment. "She was the kind of person who makes you feel terrible for every and any passing moment of sadness or unhappiness you might have caused her." He shook his head. "Willow was like that. too.' It brought tears to my eyes to hear my mother's name mentioned. Had she found my note by now? Was she crying or raging with anger? Had they called the police? Did they know about Uncle Linden being with us or did everyone assume he had gone off on his own? Surely, Heyden's mother was contacted. too. What did she say? How sad and unhappy was she? Heyden hadn't mentioned her yet. nor had he mentioned his sister. If he had any regrets, they were so deeply buried, it would take days of intense psychotherapy to get him to reveal just the surfaces of them. "Well," he said, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen among us. "It's time to get out the map and plan our trip."

  He reached into his duffel bag and produced an automobile club map, spreading it on the table. Tracing with his finger, he pointed to a route that would take us through South Carolina, I saw the way that lit up Uncle Linden's eyes. We were indeed on a great adventure. and he was just as Heyden had suggested. a little boy again.

  "I thought we would follow the so-called Savannah River Scenic Highway." he said. "There'll be plenty to see, plenty for Uncle Linden to appreciate as an artist,'

  "Oh. right," Uncle Linden said. "The next chance we get. I'll need to buy some supplies. I should have thought about that and gone back into the house for my easel and paints."

  "We were in such a rush, we all forgot." I said. "Sorry,"

  "That's okay. I'll get new things. Time I did anyway," Uncle Linden said.

  Like Heyden. he seemed incapable of being discouraged. Our trip was still far too filled with promise to entertain anything that might spoil it. "After we go here, we'll bear southwest and head for New Orleans, where our opportunities to sing and make money will abound," Heyden declared. "We'll be there in a matter of a few days."

  "New Orleans. I've always wanted to go there. There's an artist I like from New Orleans. He did all those swamp pictures with the Spanish moss hanging down like great cobwebs. Boy, this is great," Uncle Linden said, clapping his hands together. "Let's keep going."

  Heyden laughed.

  "We can't ride all day and all night, Uncle Linden. Why don't we just settle in here for the night. It's a pretty enough spat." Heyden said.

  "Okay. I'll watch one of those DVDs we bought."

  "Sure. Let me set it up for you." Heyden told him and went right to it while I cleaned off the table and started to wash our dishes.

  "I'll be right with you to help you with that. Hannah," Heyden said, leaning over the carton that held the DVD.

  "I'm fine," I said "I can dirty my little hands. too."

  He laughed. "If all those snobby girls back in Palm Beach could see us now." he said.

  "Yes."

  I thought about them, about school, about what I had left behind. I couldn't think of anyone in my class who would trade living in Joya Del Mar with its beautiful grounds and pool and beach for living in a battered motor home. Yet somehow, being on my own like this, with the whole world seemingly out there to be seen and explored. I didn't feel I had taken a giant step backward. The lives of my friends were truly predictable. It was all laid out before them, their maps, their scenic highways designed and chosen for them even before they were born perhaps. If they veered too far to the left or right, went too slowly or resisted going forward, they would be criticized and pressured to conform, not that many of them wanted to even approach anything nearly as rebellious as what I had done.

  "There," Heyden said when he was able to start the movie for Uncle Linden, who sat in the living room chair looking as if he were sitting in the most expensive furniture set in the most luxurious room. "It's all set and ready for you. Uncle Linden." "Thanks," he said, settling in the small, bigcushioned chair that looked so old and worn. I thought he would sink to the floor. He didn't seem to mind. "Do you want something else. Uncle Linden? Coffee, tea. anything?"

  "No. I'm fine, Thank you, Hannah."

  Heyden winked at me and went to the coach door.

  "How about a walk. Hannah?" he asked. I looked at Uncle Linden.

  "He'll be fine. Right, Uncle Linden?" "What? Oh, yes. I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

  I smiled and then I joined Heyden, and we stepped out of the coach.

  "Let's not go too far. Heyden. Despite what he claims, he might get frightened."

  "He's really all right. Hannah. I can see that he was shut up for no reason."

  "I don't know. You don't know his history, how long it's taken for him to get to where he's at now. You do know that he gets terribly confused sometimes. Sometimes he goes into a depression that rivals a coma. You haven't seen that side of him yet," "And I won't, That's not going to happen, not with us. Not now," Heyden insisted,

  "Going off like this doesn't cure everything. Heyden. Let's not be unrealistic," I warned.

  His smile faded and then came shooting back, "No. it doesn't, but it's a start. Look, the first stars are out." he said. "You ever take time to look at the stars?"

  "Yes. When I walk down to our beach." "Yeah. I forgot," he said. disappointed. "You have always had your own private beach. Well. I'm in the middle of a city street, and with the lights all around me, it's hard to see stars or even care," he said bitterly. "At least, it was. Not anymore, never again." he vowed with such vehemence. I was actually frightened for a moment. He looked capable of doing anything to stay free of his past.

  He saw the look in my face and smiled. "Don't blame me for wanting this so much."

  "I don't. I just want to keep our feet on the ground and be as realistic about it all as we can. Heyden."

  "We will. I promise. This is our first free night, though. Hannah. Just tonight let's act like a couple of dreamers, okay?" he pleaded.

  I smiled. "Okay."

  He took my hand and we walked down to the beach where we could sit and look toward the space shuttle.

  "I guess those guys really get away from it all up there." Heyden said. "I wonder if they feel like they're closer to God or something."

  "I suppose when they see the world that way, they can have such a feeling."

  Heyden looked at me. "When I'm with you. Hannah. I can. too. It's like being up there. I bet. Like floating in space, above everything, the noise, the static. It's all drowned out, and all I can see is you; all I can hear is you, and all I care to touch is you." I smiled and looked down at the sand. "You're not even a bit afraid of what we're doing, Heyden?" "Sure. I'm afraid. If I wasn't, I'd be worried about myself. Then I would know I'm completely bankers, unrealistic. I know it's not going to be as easy as I make it sound. but I think it's possible. Hannah. I think we're possible. You've given me the hope, you and yes. Uncle Linden."

  I looked up at him. With only the starlight, it was still easy to see his eyes burning with

  determination and what I surely thought was love. He leaned forward and kissed me softly. T
hen he lay back on the sand.

  "I like the warmth in the sand after the sun goes down, before night coals it. Don't you?"

  "Yes." I said, lying back beside him.

  "Pick two stars that are close to each other, and we'll claim them for ourselves." he said. ''At least for the tip."

  I read the night sky and then painted to my right.

  "I see them." Heyden said. "I'm the one on the right because the one on the left twinkles more." "Oh. I'm twinkle toes now?"

  He laughed. To me you are." he said and kissed me again.

  We embraced and I buried my head in the nook between his head and neck.

  "Hold me. Heyden." I said. "Hold me as if I were going to fall off the edge of the world." "Okay. I'll always hold you that way. Hannah." So many promises coming so quickly, I thought. I was afraid they were like crepe paper and balloons, tinsel and lights to dress to keep us from seeing what was ordinary. We were too young for so many promises, too poor to afford them yet. For us promises were still dreams and not plans. It was like floating on a magic carpet with the most dangerous thing being waking up. The air would be air again, and you could fall to the hard earth.

  I said nothing. but Heyden felt my tension and fear. He kissed my forehead and cheek and brought his lips to mine, pressing hard as if he wanted to drive out any demons,

  "It's going to be okay," he whispered. I turned to lie back on his outstretched arm and gazed up at the still-emerging stars, each one another promise, too. But when the sun came up, when it was morning, they would be gone, I thought,

  How would the world look to us the next day? After a little while longer, we bath decided it was time to go back to see how Uncle Linden was doing. It didn't surprise me to find him asleep in his chair, the movie still playing,

  "That's funny. He was complaining about the other residents doing just that."

  "He's exhausted. It was just as emotional for him to leave as it was for us," I said.

  With Heyden's help. I pulled out the sofa bed and dressed it in the new linen and new pillows and pillow-cases. I fixed Uncle Linden's blanket for him, hoping he would soon wake up himself.