Views and Mechanics Publisher's Note Editor's Note Review of The Pittsburgh That Stays Within You Review of If Instead of Apes We Had Come from Grapes Review of Anson County Review of Dissolution of Ghosts Crossword (Solution Posted in July. Printable version in pdf format of journal.) Mar/Apr Crossword Solution Creative Nonfiction 1998 By Samuel Hazo Booing the Pope By Matthew D. Taylor Sgt. Robert Starbuck, USMC: Elegy and Essay By John Guthrie Shrink Wrap, Diet Cokes and a Kazoo By Sara J. Ford Poetry And the Time Is By Samuel Hazo In His Winter By Wanda D. Campbell Lester By Thomas Reynolds Generation Gap By Valerie Lauria Stanske Two Poets By Gary C. Wilkens Mongolia, 1930 By Gary C. Wilkens Fiction A Death in the Family By John Speeking Letters By Suzanne Abbot Among the Briars By Pat Tompkins Filling in the Angles By Jessica DelBalzo Cover Art Photography by Seth Brown About the Contributors © 2006, River Walk Journal and respective authors and artists. All rights reserved. Do not use or reproduce without permission. River Walk Journal, Inc. Board of Directors Chairman - Elizabeth Ross Vice Chairman - Joseph Koch Secretary/Treasurer - Geri Stock-Ross Editorial Director - Patti Kurtz, DA Literacy Director - Bill Mausteller Policy Director - PA State Rep. Jess Stairs Advisory Board Chairman - Patti Kurtz, DA Asst. Chairman - Dan Lachenman, PhD Samuel Hazo Christopher Leland Edwin Yoder Joseph Bathanti Journal Staff Publisher - Elizabeth Ross Editor-In-Chief - Joseph Koch Sen. Fiction Editor - Patti Kurtz Sen. Poetry Editor - Neeldhara Misra Sen. Creative Nonfiction Editor - Brenda Coxe Contributing Editor - Robert Dittman Publicity Director (PA) - Geri Stock-Ross For information about submissions, visit http://www.riverwalkjournal.org/submission.html. Questions about promotions, subscribers' services, and advertising should be sent to publisher@riverwalkjournal.org. River Walk Journal, Inc. is a non-profit corporation run entirely by volunteers. For information about volunteer opportunities and internships, visit http://www.riverwalkjournal.org/volunteer.html. |
Miss Mary By Beth L. Block Callie had never seen a person who was so conspicuous yet so utterly invisible to everyone else. Then again, she had never lived in a city, where preserving one's anonymity was such a priority. Even she avoided making eye contact while riding the subways and walking on the streets. But she couldn't help looking at the frail, elderly black woman, who sat in the first sideways-facing seat of the bus that took her to law school every morning. She didn't appear on the bus until winter. She was bundled up in a shabby, tweed coat and a knitted burgundy hat. She always rested a blue umbrella between her legs, and sat with two medium-sized, brown suitcases; one to her left, the other in front of her feet. By the time that Callie got onto the bus, it was so crowded that there was standing room only. That is, except for the seat next to this woman. Having just run three blocks, Callie wasn't about to stand the whole ride, holding her knapsack filled with heavy casebooks. As Callie sat down next to her, the woman looked at her with a tender smile and said softly, “Good morning.” “Good morning.” Callie said, out of breath. “Take some deep breaths.” the woman suggested. The woman watched Callie as she inhaled and exhaled slowly three times. “That's right. Feel better?” “Yes. Thank you.” “What you got in that bag?” asked the woman, pointing to Callie's knapsack on the floor of the bus. “Oh, those are my books for school. They're pretty heavy.” She nodded and asked, “What kind of schooling you in?” “Law school.” Her facial _expression showed that she was impressed, yet she let out a chuckle, “Law school? A little, biddy thing like you? Why, you don't look old enough to be out of high school.” Callie laughed a little and said, “Yeah, lots of people tell me that I look younger than I am.” “So, you must be real smart, huh?” Shrugging her shoulders, Callie replied, “I try my best.” “That's good. You must make your parents proud.” “I hope so.” There was a pause in their conversation as the woman glanced down at her suitcase. Callie looked up just in time to see that some people on the bus were looking at her. It hadn't even dawned on her that they would be watching her as she spoke to this woman. They quickly turned their eyes away, embarrassed that she had caught them staring at her. She turned her attention back to the woman and said, “My name is Callie.” The woman seemed surprised that Callie introduced herself, as if nobody had done that in a very long time. “Folks call me Miss Mary.” Callie smiled and said, “Well, it's nice to meet you, Miss Mary.” “Good meeting you.” Callie realized that her stop was just ahead, so she gathered her knapsack and stood up. “Here's where I get off. Nice talking to you.” “You take care now, honey.” “I will.” said Callie, as she gave her a smile and joined the rush of students hurrying to make their first class. It was snowing by the time Callie left the law library that evening. On her way home, she was surprised to see Miss Mary on the bus, in her seat with her things in the same place as they had been in the morning. As Callie sat down next to Miss Mary, her face became animated, “How was your day, Callie?” “Pretty good. I'm tired though.” “Um hmm. I know the feeling. I'm tired just from riding this bus all day.” Callie didn't know quite how to put it, so she just came straight out and asked, “Miss Mary, don't you have anywhere to go?” She looked down at her suitcases and sighed, “I don't like the shelters. They ain't safe. Sometimes, I take some of my social security money and stay a few nights at a motel. But it's not enough to do that for very long. Plus, I gotta' be able to buy my food.” Callie felt awful. “Well, where will you go tonight? I mean, it's snowing.” “I'm gonna' have to go to the shelter 'cause I don't have the money for a motel.” They were both silent as the reality of Miss Mary's situation set in. Feeling guilty, Callie said feebly, “I wish there were something I could do.” She looked back up at Callie, “Don't you worry. I'll be alright. Besides, you're the only one who's ever talked to me on this damn bus. That's something.” Their friendship had grown over the weeks. Callie learned that Miss Mary was seventy-three-years-old. She had been married to a womanizer named, Sam, who took off and left her with a baby and all of the bills. Her daughter, Patricia. died from leukemia when she was just twelve-years-old. The only possessions that she valued were Patricia's small teddy bear, which she kept in her suitcase, and a gold locket that she wore around her neck, which held a small picture of her and Patricia. She never took that locket off. Miss Mary had worked as a domestic until her body wore out. Eventually, she lost her apartment, and without any family to help, she became homeless. Yet somehow, through all of her grief and misfortune, Miss Mary bore no resentment. She had faith and trusted that God would carry her home one day. Every morning, Callie went to her corner Dunkin' Donuts to buy a honey roll and cup of coffee for Miss Mary's breakfast, as well as a croissant sandwich for her lunch. But she that didn't make her feel any better that Miss Mary had to ride the bus all day and evening, getting off to find public bathrooms. Callie grew more and more worried for Miss Mary, who kept moving from motels to shelters, and sometimes even slept out in the park in the midst of the harsh northeast winter. On a particularly bitter and rainy afternoon, they were riding the bus away from the law school when Callie turned towards Miss Mary and said, “I have an idea, and I want you to listen before you say 'no'.” “Uh oh.” said Miss Mary humorously. “Why don't you come stay with me? It's nice and warm, and you'd have your privacy, too.” Miss Mary rolled her eyes at Callie, “Girl, are you crazy! You don't just go inviting strangers into your house.” “But Miss Mary, you're not a stranger. I trust you.” “And I'd never do you any harm. But are you sure about this?” Callie placed her hand over Miss Mary's, “Absolutely.” Miss Mary said, “Well, then, I've got to do something for you in return.” Callie smiled playfully, “Can you cook?” Miss Mary repeated in a mocking tone, “Can I cook. Honey, you just take care of the shopping, and then get out of my way.” “Good,” Callie said. “It's settled, then.” As the doorman opened the door to the fancy building for them, and they walked into the decorated lobby, Miss Mary's eyes widened, “This is where you live?” Self-conscious, Callie wanted to get upstairs, “Come on, Miss Mary. Let's get you upstairs and out of that wet coat.” She chuckled as they got into the elevator, “Yeah, my poor, old umbrella was sure no match for that wind.” They got out on the ninth floor and walked to the end of the corridor, each of them carrying one of Miss Mary's suitcases. Miss Mary was still looking at the lighted sconces that hung at intervals along the wall when Callie had unlocked her door. “So, Miss Mary? Are you going to come in?” Callie placed the suitcase she had been holding on the floor in the foyer, then took the other one from Miss Mary's hand and put that one down. Miss Mary peeked in before stepping across the doorway with some hesitation. Callie removed her hat and coat and hung them up. Then Miss Mary studied herself in the mirror that hung over the foyer table and said, “Oh my. Ain't I a sight.” “Oh, you're just fine.” Callie reassured her. “So, are you ready for the tour?” “Uh, actually, I've gotta' use your bathroom first.” she said, somewhat embarrassed. “Of course.” said Callie, as she walked Miss Mary down the hall, and then went to the kitchen to get herself a glass of white wine. When Callie heard the bathroom door open, she called out, “Miss Mary, would you like something to drink? Maybe a hot cup of tea?” “I'll have what you're having.” came her voice from the hallway. Callie went to where Miss Mary was looking at her Cezanne prints, and held up her glass, “Well, I'm drinking white wine.” Miss Mary made a face, “No thank you. Never did take to that...” “Oh...” “But I'll take a beer if you got one.” Callie laughed, “One beer coming up.” When she came back with an opened bottle of Budweiser, she clinked her glass to Miss Mary's bottle and said, “Welcome home, Miss Mary. Miss Mary wiped a tear from her eye and repeated, “Home.” She cried quietly while Callie hugged her, saying, “It's okay, Miss Mary, it's okay.” Then, Miss Mary gave Callie two quick pats on her back and said, “Alright now, enough of these tears. How 'bout that tour you promised me.” So Callie took her around the small one-bedroom apartment. First, she showed her the living room, where she'd be sleeping on the pull-out sofa bed. “We'll get you set up after dinner. And I'll show you how to work the remote control for the TV so you can watch it whenever you want.” Miss Mary asked, “Where do you sleep?” “Around the corner.” They went into Callie's modest bedroom, which was dominated by her work area. Miss Mary looked at her messy desk and asked, “You read all them books?” “Just about.” Callie said, rolling her eyes at the stacks of law books and piles of binders filled with notes from her classes. But Miss Mary was most impressed by the kitchen; with its new appliances, long countertops, and abundant cabinets. “Oh boy, I'm gonna' have fun cookin' us dinner here!” Eager to see the culinary delights that awaited them, she opened the refrigerator and freezer doors like a little kid. Shocked to see that all Callie had were some bagels, eggs, butter, instant coffee, and a couple of old apples, she turned to Callie and said, “Girl! There's no food in this house.” Callie said, “Sure there is.” Miss Mary looked back in the refrigerator, then in the freezer. “Where's the meat?” “I told you. I don't cook.” “What do you eat then?” she asked, like a concerned mother. “Mostly, I get take-in, or I eat out at restaurants with friends. Miss Mary waved her hand in Callie's face - a sure sign of disapproval, “That ain't no way to live. Come on, we're going to the store to stock this place up.” Callie moaned, “Aw, now? Please, can't it wait until tomorrow? It's pouring out there. I get out of school early tomorrow. I promise that we'll go to the store then and get whatever you want. But tonight I just want to stay in and get something delivered. Ok?” Miss Mary knew that Callie was right. This wasn't a night to go back outside. “Alright. But what are we gonna' get to eat tonight?” “Do you like Chinese food?” “Honey, I only ate it once, and it was so long ago that I don't remember if I liked it. But I'll give it a try.” As it turned out, Miss Mary loved the house special fried rice, cashew chicken and shrimp in lobster sauce that Callie ordered. They sat at the small table in the far corner of the living room, washing the food down with another round of Budweisers. Miss Mary laughed and said, “Ooh, am I full. And you'd better not let me drink anymore beer, or my head might just fall down into my plate.” Callie said, “I'm done, too. Why don't you rest on the sofa and watch some TV while I straighten this up.” “No, let me do it.” “Are you sure?” “Uh huh.” “Okay, thanks. Well, then, I'll make up your bed and put a set of towels in the bathroom for you.” Miss Mary had the table cleared, the leftovers put away, and the dishes rinsed and stored in the dishwasher by the time Callie had made her bed and changed into a sweat suit for the night. Callie said, “Hey Miss Mary? You know what I do have in my freezer? Mint chocolate chip ice cream. You want some?” “Maybe later. Right now, I could really use a nice, hot tub.” “Sure. I've got some lavender bubble bath in there that you might like. The yellow towels are yours. The hot water is on the left. Oh, and just pull up the thing-a-ma-jig on top of the faucet so that the water fills up.” Miss Mary said, “Thank you, honey. I won't be long.” “Don't be silly. Take all the time you want. I've got studying to do anyway.” As Miss Mary carried one of her suitcases into the bathroom, Callie sat down at her long, drawing table that she used as a desk, and opened her Federal Tax casebook. “Thrilling.” she said to herself, as she played music through her computer. Callie was just coming back from the kitchen with a mug of coffee when she almost bumped into Miss Mary, who stood in the doorway of the bathroom wearing a flannel nightgown and short, white socks. She had also tied a navy bandana around her head. “Well, you look refreshed.” said Callie. “I am. And that bubble bath felt so good that I almost fell asleep.” Callie noticed that the clothes she had worn were neatly balanced on top of the suitcase. “Miss Mary, just put any clothes you need washed in the hamper under the sink. I'm going to do the laundry over the weekend.” Miss Mary looked down at the floor like she was ashamed, “I can't let you do my laundry, honey. My clothes are beyond soiled.” “I'll tell you what. You bring your things to the laundry room with me when I go, and you can do your own wash.” “That'd be fine. But for now, do you just have a plastic bag I could put these in?” “Sure thing.” By 9:30, Callie and Miss Mary were propped up on the sofa bed watching game show re-runs and eating ice cream. Miss Mary looked around the room and said, “Get a load of me. I wish I could take a picture of this.” Callie got up and said, “Hang on.” She raced off to her bedroom and came back into the living room holding her digital camera. She got back on the sofa bed next to Miss Mary, held it a few feet in front of them, told Miss Mary to smile, and clicked a few frames. “I hope this works.” Then, Miss Mary turned serious. She took Callie's hand and looked into her eyes, “You're a good girl. Nobody's ever done anything like this for me, and I just want to thank you for everything, honey.” “You deserve a rest. Miss Mary. I'm just glad you're here.” Then Callie excused herself so that she could finish her work for the morning. Before she turned in for the night, she checked on Miss Mary, who had fallen asleep. As she gently pulled the covers over her, something made Callie take a closer look. Whatever Miss Mary was dreaming about had cast a peaceful look across her face. Sadly, it turned out to be too peaceful. Callie's eyes filled with tears, which ran down her face when she blinked. She sat down beside Miss Mary and stroked her cheek, which was still warm. She knew that she had to call the police, so she reached for the phone on the end table. It was there that she saw a piece of her paper from one of her yellow legal pads, folded over a few times, with her name written on it in shaky handwriting. Putting the phone down, she looked over at Miss Mary, then back at the paper. As she opened the note, she heard the sound of something slinky slide against the paper as it fell to the ground. Callie looked down, and saw Miss Mary's shining, gold locket. She leaned over and picked it up with a delicate motion, letting the smooth necklace drape over her hand. She began to cry again as she unfolded the letter and read Miss Mary's last thoughts: “Dear Callie, Well if you got this then I'm gone. Don't be sad honey 'cause I ain't. I been waitin for my peace for a long time now. I always tried to be a good person. Never hurt nobody. So I'm just hopin' the Lord sees fit to take me to a better place. I got nothing to give you but my locket. It always kept me strong. Thank you for loving me. Miss Mary.” Callie had to have Miss Mary buried in the pauper's cemetery, but she purchased a decent casket and a grave marker for her with her savings and the little money that Miss Mary had left. She gave the mortician one of her nice outfits for Miss Mary to wear since they were about the same size, and she made sure that Miss Mary would be buried holding Patricia's teddy bear. As she stood on the icy snow behind the mound of dirt that the workmen were already busy shoveling over Miss Mary's coffin, Callie fought back tears and stroked the old locket. She took a few shaky steps forward and stretched out her arm, releasing one red and one white rose, symbolizing unity. “Don't worry, Miss Mary. There's someone who'll remember you were here.” The bus was packed as always. A man in his thirties, dressed in a navy suit and striped tie sat in Miss Mary's seat. His briefcase rested on the floor in front of his feet. When he saw Callie holding onto the pole and tugging at her knapsack, he said, “Here, Miss, why don't you sit down?” Callie replied, “Thank you anyway, but I'd rather stand.” |