Pieces of Broken China Read online

Susan left me sitting there as she climbed into the VW bus.

  I leaned against the porch post and watched as Bruce drove the bus away from the house.

  When I entered the living room I noticed a lone long-stem rose laying on the dining room table, a note scribbled on a card lying next to it: “For the memories.”

  * * *

  A week passed and another week before Susan called. “Caleb?”

  “I’m here,” I said.

  “Bruce is on his way to Niamey, Niger.”

  I didn’t want to talk about Bruce. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Not really,” she said sadly.

  “Returning—”

  “Not to Middleport,” she interrupted, paused, and then added, “If things don’t work out here, I’ll drive on.”

  “To where?”

  “Don’t know. I’ll get jobs along the way. When I find the place where I want to live, I’ll know.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll know, Caleb. I’ll know.” She paused. “Got to go. I’ll write you a letter. Can’t afford these telephone calls.”

  “Call collect,” I suggested.

  “I’ll write,” she said and hung up.

  * * *

  A month later I received a letter from Susan:

  Dear Caleb:

  I’ve been fighting with my cousin since my last phone call. By the time you get this letter I’ll be gone, to where I don’t know. I’ll keep in touch. Don’t worry about me.

  Susan

  I crumpled the letter and tossed it into the wastebasket next to my computer station and went for a walk. I walked all afternoon and into the evening with no particular destination in mind, returning home just before midnight. I sat at the dining-room table, shut my eyes, and tried to imagine traveling to nowhere like Susan. I couldn’t.

  I glanced at the wicker basket on my table with the three white golf balls that Bruce had pitched into it over a year before. My mind reeled back to the summer Bruce juggled the golf balls in the front yard.

  “Concentration is everything,” Bruce had said as he juggled the golf balls. “Being centered is what it’s all about, Caleb.”

  For a moment my focus was on the golf balls, and as my gaze remained, an awful foreboding percolated through my body. It began with sweat beads forming on my forehead and arms. I became dizzy and my breathing labored. For an instant I thought of dialing 911, and then my anxiety level subsided as suddenly as it had risen. Such an awkward feeling I had never had in my entire life. My legs wobbled as I made my way into my bedroom and flopped down on the bed, where I passed out until the following morning.

  After I got up, I made a pot of coffee and sat at the dining-room table. Wanting to remember this premonition, I noted the date and time on the calendar. My mind drifted aimlessly, unable to focus on much of anything. The telephone rang.

  “Caleb.” Susan’s voice sounded hoarse.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “I’m in San Diego near the border on my way to Baja,” she said. “I haven’t heard from Bruce in some time.”

  “Bruce is doing what Bruce always does when he doesn’t want to be found.”

  “That’s not true!” Susan yelled. She calmed down and said, “Something happened to him. I just know.”

  I remained silent.

  “Got to—”

  “Wait! Susan! Wait... please.” The dial tone told me she was gone.

  I was about to get up when the telephone rang again. I gripped the receiver and said, “Susan?”

  A man’s voice interrupted, “Mr. Caleb Bookman?”

  I paused and then said, “Who’s this?”

  “I’m a liaison officer with the Peace Corps, Mr. Bookman. I’m calling in regard to Bruce Trevor Johnson, who gave this as his last known address stateside.”

  “Mr. Johnson lived with me while he attended college,” I said. I paused and then asked. “What’s this about?”

  “Mr. Johnson was killed when the helicopter he had been riding in lost power and crashed just outside Niamey, Niger. We have his personal effects and wondered if this is where we were supposed to send them.”

  “My God,” I gasped. “No. As I said, he only lived here while he went to college.” I turned to face the calendar. “Can I ask when this happened?”

  I slumped in the chair; my heart skipped a beat as the man told me the time and date, the exact time and date of my anxiety attack weeks before.

  My hand went to cover my mouth as I stared at the golf balls in the wicker basket. I felt a chill race through my body. That could’ve been me. Or Susan. Why had Bruce gone to Niger? To die? Bruce could’ve stayed in Middleport. Susan, too. Safer here for both of them.

  I never heard from Susan again. Not a telephone call, a post card, or a letter.

  I quit my job. I didn’t need the money, and I didn’t like being around people I would never have associated with outside of work. I boxed up my computer and stored it in the basement. I hung Dad’s plaques and framed letters of commendation on the wall where my computer station used to be. Above my dining room table I hung Mom’s shadowboxes and placed there all of her demitasses and lifelike figurines, mostly from Israel. I brought Mom’s wicker rocker up to the living room.

  I watched television from Mom’s wicker rocker and taught myself knitting, crocheting, and quilting, creating afghans and blankets—like Mom did.

  Cody’s Promise Ring

  Cody sat alone in the employees’ booth. He liked this booth with its high back, because it hid him from the front of the restaurant. Mounted on the back of the wall of the dining area hung a large, rectangular mirror, and from where he was sitting, Cody could see what was going on in the dining room.

  Cody worked as the morning weekend dishwasher. He had finished his shift and was waiting for Margaret, the morning prep cook. They had attended the same schools from kindergarten on up through high school. She was about to complete her first year of college, and Cody was about to graduate from high school.

  Margaret had already been a prep cook when Cody began working as a weekend dishwasher shortly after his sixteenth birthday. Margaret and Cody had grown up on Melrose Avenue. They were always seen together. He was attracted to Margaret because of her tomboyish attitude. She wore blue jeans and roughed it with the boys, playing baseball, basketball, and even football at times. Cody didn’t like any of those sports, but he loved to fish and so did Margaret. The two of them had a favorite fishing hole.

  Cody was mellow and introspective like his mother, Faith. The other boys teased Cody and called him “High Pockets.” He stood six feet two inches and weighed 190 pounds. His trousers always hung around his protruding hips. He had a soft complexion, large brown eyes, and sensuous lips.

  As they grew up together, Cody had become infatuated with Margaret. When he tried to talk to Margaret about the feelings he had for her, she seemed cold toward him. At one point earlier in the year, she finally had told him she could never be more than his friend but hadn’t explained why. Now eighteen, Cody couldn’t contain his feelings for Margaret any longer. With pigheaded persistence and doglike loyalty, he pursued her anyway. Over the past two years Cody had saved a good share of his dishwasher’s pay to purchase Margaret a promise ring, the symbol of his love and affection for her.

  He took the city bus into town on a day he had off work. He kept counting the money he had in his pocket, hoping it would be enough for the promise ring. The city bus stopped at its designated place, which was in a dime store. He was nervous as he walked into the store. He had never been at a jewelry counter, and the prices caused him to rethink his purchase. He was about to leave when an elderly lady from behind the counter he had not noticed before asked him if he needed help.

  He swallowed hard as he looked at the lady and said, “I’m shopping for a promise ring to give my girlfriend.”

  “For that special someone,” the elderly lady said as she pointed to a small case at the other end of the counter. She opened the ba
ck of the case and took out a ring and set it on the counter for Cody to examine.

  After a lengthy silence on Cody’s part, she said, “It’s a lovely promise ring. My son bought one just like this when he first started to date the girl of his dreams. They’ve been married five years now and have a baby boy.”

  That was what Cody wanted to hear. He removed the money from his trouser pocket and laid it on top of the counter. While the lady counted the money, Cody had the jitters and thought, What if I don’t have enough money?

  To his amazement, the lady smiled at him and said, “You have just enough. I’ll put the ring in a bag.”

  Jubilant, Cody said, “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to carry the box in my hand.”

  * * *

  The following morning before the breakfast rush, Cody sat down in his favorite booth. When he opened the black velvet box to admire the promise ring, a voice he had heard before warned, “She isn’t anything like you think!” Cody snapped the lid to the small black box shut and thrust it inside his trouser pocket.

  After the breakfast rush was over and all the dishes, pots, and pans washed and put away, Cody helped Margaret finish her preparation for the lunch rush. After they finished their work he followed Margaret out into the dining room, where they sat down at his favorite booth.

  Through the mirror hanging on the back wall, Cody watched Faith display colorful beadwork necklaces to Ruby, the owner of the restaurant. The two women were seated at the oval table in front of the dining area. Eddy, dressed in working clothes, appeared and sat next to Ruby.

  Eddy turned his head clockwise, stopped, ran his right hand over the top of his head, and turned his head clockwise again. When Faith leaned forward and said something to him, he calmed down.

  Margaret glanced at the front of the restaurant and squirmed in her seat as though she couldn’t make up her mind whether to leave or stay.

  “The two people with Ruby are my parents,” Cody announced proudly.

  Unknown to Cody, Margaret had met Cody’s parents when they stopped by Margaret’s home, which they did often. After that first visit, she had always been absent when they stopped.

  Cody glanced back at his parents, who had Ruby cornered in a lively conversation.

  “Would you like to meet them?” Cody asked.

  Before Margaret had a chance to respond, Cody craned his neck around the partition and hailed his parents.

  Cody turned to Margaret and grinned. She toyed with the splotched placemat and spoon in front of her.

  Margaret grimaced when Eddy sat next to her and began turning his head.

  Faith said softly to Eddy as she sat next to Cody, “Don’t do that,” and then she looked at Margaret and said, “Eddy and I don’t bite.”

  Cody gave a strange look at his mom, but said nothing.

  Eddy added, “Much.”

  “He belongs to us,” Faith said, nodding to Cody.

  “He taught us everything we know,” Eddy laughed.

  Faith turned to Margaret. “Eddy and I graduated from high school.”

  “Two years ago.” Eddy’s eyes widened, his voice strained with excitement.

  “Dad went to an alternate school for—”

  “Retarded people,” Eddy interrupted Cody.

  “We’re not retarded,” Faith railed. She turned to Margaret, smiled, and said, “Eddy was in special education and I was in ‘normal’ school,” she said, animating quotes with her fingers.”

  “I’m better at English than you are,” Eddy said.

  “I’m better at math.” Faith stuck her tongue out.

  When Eddy playfully scrunched his face to Faith, Margaret blushed and hid her face in the palms of her hands.

  At that moment, a short, pudgy man dressed in grease-smudged orange coveralls sat at a table next to a window across from Cody. The man’s weather-beaten face looked like brown shoe leather. After he sat at his table, his eyes caught sight of Eddy and then Faith. Instantly he bristled, causing his chair to fall on its back on the floor. It appeared as though he was coming over to Cody’s table, but then he turned and stormed out of the restaurant.

  Faith’s face softened. She cupped Eddy’s hands gently in hers and said, “Forget him. He doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.”

  Tears welled up in Eddy’s eyes.

  Faith continued holding his hands in hers, quietly.

  Margaret sat speechless.

  Noticing Margaret’s puzzlement, Cody leaned over the table toward her and said, “My biological father, Victor.”

  Faith explained to Margaret, “Victor and I grew up together. Went to the same schools, lived not far from one another in the same neighborhood. Back then he was a different man, full of compassion; at least that was the side he wanted me to see before we married. Then Carla came into our lives.” Faith looked at Margaret to explain, “Victor and I had a daughter, Carla. She was born with Down’s syndrome. He was ashamed to be seen with Carla in public. The more I tried to talk to him about Carla, the more enraged he became. One day while I was nursing Carla, he threw a heavy book at her. The book slammed into my left arm, and I nearly dropped Carla to the floor. He blamed me for Carla’s deformity and told me I could only bring freaks into the world because I was a freak. I divorced Victor shortly after that.” She looked at Eddy and said, “This wonderful man came into my life a year later. I was working in an agency that trains mentally challenged people. When Eddy found out I had Carla, he adopted her in his heart as his own. I was taken aback by his warmth, his compassion and love for Carla. I fell in love with this man. About a year before we were married, Carla got sick. She was always a frail child. She died of pneumonia. I don’t know where I would have been today without Eddy in my life at that time. Victor blamed me for Carla’s death. He always wanted me to—”

  “Give Carla away,” Eddy blurted as he turned to Margaret. “He’d like to give me away, too, if he could!” Eddy began turning his head violently and rubbing the top of his head with his right hand. “Victor doesn’t like retarded people. I’m not welcome in his house. Neither is Faith, because she’s married to me. Only Cody is.” Eddy’s voice was strained. He was nearly shouting.

  Faith tried to comfort Eddy. He jerked his hand away, turned to Cody, and begged, “Take us home. Please!”

  * * *

  Cody had the following two days off. When he returned to work he felt a coldness from Margaret he had never felt before. Margaret pretended to be reading the employees’ menu.

  Cody leaned his head back against the cushion and stared at the ceiling. When the voice spoke to him now, he listened. He slowly lowered his head and looked at her and said, “You don’t want anything to do with me because my parents are freaks.”

  Margaret smirked and said, “You’re a wimpy, nerdy, misfit guy as dysfunctional as your dad.” She paused, dropping the employee’s menu on the table. “How can you stand to be in the same room with your dad? Why do you think I never took you home with me after school? Why should I? I have a freak just like your dad living in my house.” She paused again and said, “Now you know why I never went to your home all the times you invited me.”

  Cody leaned forward. Glaring into Margaret’s eyes, he reminded her, “I was the younger brother you wished you had. My delusion? Yours?” Cody reflected, “The only relationship I had with you is the fantasy I created in my mind.”

  Margaret laughed aloud and said in a condescending voice, “You’ve been comic relief in my dull, boring life.” Margaret shook her head as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

  “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore,” she blurted out and left Cody sitting alone.

  It was then Cody realized he had been a slave to a relationship he had created in his mind. “How could I have been so foolish?” he asked himself. He placed the box on the table and was about to leave when Faith slid into the bench beside him.

  She kissed him on his cheek and said, “I thought you might be in need of a friend.”r />
  “How long have you been here?” Cody asked.

  Faith nodded to a table at the far side of the dining room where Eddy sat.

  Faith looked at Cody and asked, “What did Margaret say to you?”

  Cody stared into the large, rectangular mirror mounted on the back wall of the dining room, lost in his thoughts for a moment. He turned to his mom, who had the small black velvet box cupped in her hand.

  “I fooled myself into believing my dad’s learning disabilities would not affect my life. I was wrong.” Cody paused as he watched his mom admire the promise ring. “His disabilities will always be my problems, too. Even if I left town and met a girl who knew nothing about my past, my dad’s disabilities would always be there to haunt me.” Cody paused and then added, “Margaret knew more about me than I knew about her. I let my emotions get the better of me, Mom. I should’ve listened to the small voice inside me. You and Dad have always been my best friends. I should’ve come to you both a long time ago and talked about my feelings for Margaret. I thought I knew what I was doing.”

  Faith shook her head and leaned back against the bench. She opened the lid to the velvet box, smiled, and snapped the lid shut. She looked at Cody and said, “When I found out I was pregnant with you, Victor insisted I have an abortion, because he believed I would bring another freak into the family. After you were born, the pediatrician told me you were normal. When I told Victor, he scoffed and said that the doctor had told me what I wanted to hear.”

  “Why?” Cody asked.

  “People think I’m retarded because I married a man with learning disabilities. Do you think it would’ve mattered to us if you were born with Down syndrome?” Faith wiggled the little finger of her right hand in Cody’s face. “Eddy has more soul in the tip of his little finger than Victor has in his entire body!” When Cody glanced at the ring box, Faith whispered, “Margaret, too. Don’t you remember the conversations you had with your dad and me over dinner? The reason Margaret is having such a time with all of this is because her sister was born a dwarf.”

  Cody swallowed hard and admitted, “I’ve always known how Margaret felt about her sister.”