"Janil, where are you? I've been worried
sick."
The girl brushed an errant strand of mahogany hair from her face with
a manicured hand and sighed before she began. "I'm fine,
Mother! Like I told you in my letter, I'm in Chicago!" She
sat on the bed, legs dangling over the side and patted down the
ruffled black Liz Claiborne skirt that she'd purchased for tonight.
"Chicago! I don't understand why you--"
"We wanted to be together. You know
that"
There was silence on the other end and Janil, playing
with the button on the cuff of her elasticized lace shirt, continued.
"I'm sure that you can understand young love, Mother. We've been
apart for so long and--"
"Janil, you know what the Army said."
'What?"
More silence. "The serviceman who came here last week to give
you the news..."
"I'm sorry, but I don't remember."
"I was home when he dropped by. I heard what he said to you
about Will. I held you while you cried--"
"Mother, I'm in a hurry. Can we talk about
this later? Will just stepped out of the bathroom. We have
dinner reservations at the Navy Pier in about an hour and--"
"It's not possible!"
"It's hard to get a reservation on such short
notice, but we managed it, because another couple cancelled at the
last moment."
"Janil, Will is not with you. The Army said he was killed in
action. Remember? He was killed in Iraq. Shot by a
sniper."
Janil laughed almost hysterically, and then turned to
say: "Will, the Army still says you're dead."
"Janil!" came her mother's voice.
"Mother, I assure you it's merely a clerical
mistake. I thought I explained that in my letter."
"No--"
"Like I said, he's here with me. He's sitting on the chair
across from the bed right now, dusting off his black dress shoes, shaking
his head and smiling as he listens to our conversation. And--"
"I want to come to Chicago. See for
myself. Make sure you're okay. Your father and I are going to
fly up there--"
"Don't, Mother. I'm fine. Never
better. I'm happy. In love. You're going to have to take
my word for it. It has been more than six months since Will and I
were together. Please understand that we need to be alone
now." She shifted, bringing her legs onto the bed, careful not
to snag her hose with the heels of her shiny black pumps.
"Janil, you're confused right now. That's understandable.
I want to help you. I need to talk to you--face to face."
"When I get home on Friday, we'll have plenty of
time to talk."
There was a long moment of silence. "Oh,
Janil..."
"Mother, I..."
"I want you to just sit down and think about what has happened these
past few days. I want you to promise me that you'll do that."
"I can't promise you that, because there's nothing to think about. And
I want you to stop this. You're beginning to scare me. You
sound as if I've gone mad. There's no reason for this. You just
don't understand. I'm with Will, and he's fine and so am I. I
received a call from Will yesterday, you see. He wanted me to meet him
here. Read the letter I left you."
"Then how can you explain that Mrs. Henderson called last night--said
Will's body is supposed to arrive today or tomorrow?"
"I already told you--it's a mistake! Call Will's mother.
I'm sure she knows the truth by now. I'm sure Will let her know that
he's alive and well."
"Your father went over to Mrs. Henderson's house about an hour
ago."
"And?"
"I don't know. He hasn't returned yet."
"Oh, mother. You worry yourself so much about
nothing. It's such a beautiful day and Will and I are so happy, and
here you are putting a damper on things when you should be happy for
us. The last time we were here, it was so cold--frigid air--thick ice
on the water. No boats on Lake Michigan. We couldn't enjoy our
vacation. And we're so glad that tonight we can finally have that
dinner cruise we always---"
"Just promise me that you'll visit a friend before
you go to dinner."
"A friend?"
"Harry James. You remember him. Don't you? He came
to dinner several times when we lived in--"
"I don't need a psychiatrist, Mother. I told you, I'm
fine."
"He needs to see you. He's not well.
Just lost a son a few weeks ago. I've tried to contact him.
Haven't been able to. It won't interfere with your plans. It wouldn't
take you long to drop by his place. It's right on your way to the
Pier. He's just downtown and--"
"No. I'm sorry. I can't do it. It' not fair of you to ask me to
do this. You know how important the evening is to me and Will."
"I wouldn't ask you unless I thought it was an
emergency."
Janil laughed. "I'm on to you, Mother. I know your little games
so well. I'll stop in and see Harry if you insist. But not
tonight. Tomorrow. Maybe."
"Why can't you accept the truth about what happened?"
"Why can't you believe that Will is alive and here? By God, you make
him sound dangerous. I'm not afraid of him. I love him very much, and
I want to be with him more than anything. Nothing will stop us from being
together tonight. Nothing."
"Prove it."
"What?"
"Prove to me that Will is there. Let me speak to him."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"He went out a couple of minutes ago, whispered that he'd wait for me
in the lobby. I have to go. I can't let him wait any longer. Goodbye,
Mother. I'll call you tomorrow."
The line went dead.
Margaret tightened her grip on the phone, gritted her teeth, then hung
up. But as quickly as she'd lowered the phone into the cradle, she
snatched it up again and redialed the long distance number as she
nervously paced the room. The phone rang and rang. No
answer. She hung up a second time, wondering what was going on.
Had Janil had a complete breakdown or was there really a man with her?
She turned toward the door. John had just came in. It was
raining. She'd barely noticed. He shook off his umbrella at the
door, removed his raincoat and did the same with it. Then he
hung both on the brass coat rack next to the door.
His expression was solemn as he brushed some beads of rain off his balding
head. His gaze met Margaret's briefly, but he said nothing as he
claimed his leather chair before the fire.
She stood beside him, laying her hand over his. "Did you see
Mrs. Henderson?"
He nodded. "It was no mistake. Will is dead. His body arrived
today. The funeral is set for Thursday at 1 PM. The Jones Funeral
home."
"I talked to her on the phone."
"What? To Janil? When?"
"Just before you came in."
His whole being snapped to alert. He sat up in the chair as if lifted by a
puppet's strings.
"And?"
"She's in Chicago like she said she'd be in her letter--at the Butler
Hotel, down by the Lake where she and Will stayed before. She claims
she's with him."
John's forehead wrinkled into a frown. "Then how does she
explain the Army's notification or the fact that the body was shipped
back?"
"Clerical error. Oh, do you think it's possible. Maybe the body
in the coffin is someone else, and--"
Margaret's words died on her tongue for John was firmly shaking his
head. "I saw the body."
They both remained silent for a moment, and then John took a deep breath
before he continued. "I wanted to make sure, but I couldn't
bring myself to brooch the subject with Mrs. Henderson. The woman is
obviously having a difficult time coping with her grief. Instead, I
expressed my condolences, and she told me about the body arriving and the
funeral, and I went there to see for myself. I explained the
situation to the funeral director, Hank Richardson. We met him at Todd
Anderson's parties a few times. Do you remember him?"
She nodded, holding back the tears, and John continued. "He
took me to a table in the back where they were about to prepare the
body. Showed me the corpse. It was perfectly
preserved. His injury was lower--in the gut, they said. His
face and head intact. I saw the purple butterfly shaped birthmark on
his lower arm, saw the tiny rose tattoo with 'Janil' on his other, and the
little scar above his lip. There was no mistaking the corpse's
identity. It was Will."
Margaret nervously paced for a moment and then sat across from him in a
wing chair, lighting a menthol cigarette with trembling hands as she
spoke. "For a moment, she'd almost convinced me that he was
alive. What are we to do?"
"Go to Chicago. If we head out for MCI now, we should get to
Chicago in just over 2 hours."
"That may not be soon enough. She's going to Lake Michigan, on
some kind of dinner cruise. I have a bad feeling about it. I'm
afraid she's going to do something to herself."
"Call Harry."
"I did. He said he'd see her, but she refused to see him."
"Call him back. See if he'll go to her. Tell him its an
emergency." He got to his feet. "I'll get our bags
ready."
***
The next time they saw their daughter, she was sitting
on a bench at the pier, her body covered by a wool blanket, her hair wet
and sticking to her face, tears streaming her pale cheeks. Their old
friend, Harry, sat beside her, a protective arm around her
shoulders. They had to fight a group of onlookers, police, and medics
to reach her. When he saw them, Harry stood to greet them.
He and John talked while Margaret rushed to her daughter. As she held Janil
tightly in her arms, the girl's sobbing intensified.
"Oh God, Janil. I'm so glad you're all right."
"I'm fine," she said. "I'm glad you're here." And then
she looked into her mother's hazel eyes and added, "I just got
him back, and now I've lost him again."
"I know," Margaret said, wiping the hair out of Janil's face and
kissing the top of her head as if the girl were 8-years old again.
A cop approached John. "I need to talk to you, sir?" he
said. John nodded and went a few feet away to talk to the officer out of
Janil's earshot. A few minutes later, Harry was beckoning for
Margaret to step aside with him. Promising to be right back, she gave
Janil another hug before she went to speak to him.
"I think she'll be okay, Margaret, but she needs some professional
help."
"What happened?"
"From what I gathered, her boyfriend and her--"
"Boyfriend?"
"Yes, she was with a man. Witnesses on the schooner saw him.
They said that the two were apparently having a wonderful evening.
They kept to themselves through the cruise, holding hands and talking over
dinner. Afterward, they danced. As the ship was returning to port,
Janil and the man were watching the ships in the distance, when apparently,
the boyfriend somehow fell overboard. She jumped in after him.
A crew member jumped in after her and saved her life. They searched,
are still searching, but the man's body was not found. He apparently
drowned."
"Good God! What a shock and after--"
He nodded, grasping her hand and holding it tight.
"But who was he?" Margaret asked.
"She claims it was Will Henderson."
"I know, but it couldn't be!"
"I've only been able to talk to her briefly, but from what I've seen,
I think she's having a nervous breakdown. Can't accept Will's
death. I believe she met someone else, and, in her mind, he became
Will. "
"But who? She never mentioned another man."
"I don't know. I took a taxi here as soon as I got off work, but
the ship had already set out, and so I never met the man. "
"Have the police questioned you?"
"Yes. But I told them very little and didn't mention the crisis
Janil is going through, because I didn't want to implicate her in anything
that could result in her being detained here."
"Implicate her--for what? Why?"
"A possible suicide pact."
Margaret closed her eyes for a moment, slowly shaking her head. Then
she massaged her temples with stiff fingers. It was no wonder that she was
getting a headache.
"So far no one has any idea who the man was. Several other
passengers said they'd heard her call him Will."
"I'm so confused." She studied Janil as she spoke. "I
feel so helpless. I don't know what to do for her."
Harry put a hand on her shoulder. "Of course. It's only natural
that you'd feel that way, but just being here and giving her your support
is the best thing you can do for her right now. And as bad as things
seem, I assure you that she'll recover from this. It will take
time, but she will. You need to get her some counseling as soon as
you get back to Kansas City."
"I'll call someone first thing tomorrow. Thanks so much
for all of your help, Harry. I don't know what we would have done without
you. I can't express how grateful--"
"It's okay. That's what friends are for," he said, putting
an arm around her.
She found John who'd been talking to the officer and Arnold Peterson, the
ship's Captain. "Harry said she was with--" she began.
"I know," he said. "The Captain told me the same
thing. She was with a man named Will--or at least she called him
that."
"How could it be? Where could she have met him? On the phone
earlier, she told me that Will had called her yesterday and asked her to
meet him here."
"He was probably a friend of Will's, someone he met overseas."
"Maybe. I don't know. It just doesn't make sense..."
"It will later. The important thing is that she's safe. Come on.
Let's get her out of here. The police have our names and phone
number. They'll contact us if they need to."
***
Janil sat in the back seat of the rented Lexus, still
shivering. Margaret sat beside her, holding her hand and reassuring
her as they drove toward the Butler Hotel. John and Harry sat
in the front seat, saying very little. It wasn't a good time for
pleasant conversation.
Margaret and John didn't plan on staying in Chicago for a minute longer
than they had to. Harry thought it would be best if Janil went to
Will's funeral. It would help her accept that he was dead, give her
closure. They'd get her things and take the next flight out if one
was available. They'd go to Harry's townhouse and make the flight plans.
If they couldn't get an evening flight, they'd stay with him but leave the
first thing in the morning.
As the car slowed before the hotel lobby, Margaret clutched Janil's hand
tighter. "I'll go in and get your things and check you out."
Janil searched through her Coach purse for a minute and then handed
Margaret the key to the room. Then she laid her head back and stared at
Lake Michigan as if in a daze.
Margaret entered the lobby, assailed by the shock of tasteless 1970s
styling. The hotel was in a state of glaring decay with it's worn and
cracked tiles, outdated orange carpet, and heavily scuffed and peeling
walls, but it apparently attracted guests, because of its lakeside
view. The clerk at the desk was so busy painting her nails red and
talking on the phone to an apparent love that she didn't notice Margaret
enter the building. And that was fine with Margaret. She didn't
want to have to explain why she was there.
It took her no time to find the second floor room, and she quickly unlocked
the door and went inside, anxious to gather Janil's things and put the
day's events in the past. She found Janil's empty blue suitcase on
the unmade bed, and she went about stuffing it full of Janil's clothes,
makeup, toiletries, jewelry, and a spare pair of tennis shoes. She
was about to turn and leave when she saw another suitcase next to the bed.
It was small and olive green. She laid it on the bed and opened it
with a gasp, for it was full of men's things--socks, underwear, a shaving
kit, toothpaste and brush, shoe polish, and a comb. There were also
military uniforms, desert style Army fatigues, neatly folded.
Hoping to find a clue to the man's identity, she searched the elasticized
compartment in the lid, and withdrew a stack of letters bound by a pink
ribbon. She untied it and quickly scanned the contents of the
crumpled, yellow papers. Love letters. And they were all to
Will from Janil. She carefully put them back and extracted a small
box. She opened it to see a gold engagement ring with a big diamond.
Tears in her eyes, she returned it to its rightful place and continued to
search, finding various military pins and a name tag.
The tag sat upside down in her hand and she trembled as she turned it
over. It said: Henderson. Of course.
She was confused all over again, and it took her a couple of minutes to
collect herself. But then she reminded herself of John's theory about
a friend of Will's.
Will would have doubtlessly entrusted his belongings only to a close
friend. Servicemen form strong bonds, especially in times of war.
Perhaps the man had come to deliver these private things of Will's to
Janil. Maybe he'd even known that Janil thought of him as Will and
had played along with it, not knowing what else to do. Or maybe he hadn't
been such a gentleman and had used the situation to his advantage she
thought, eyes scanning the rumpled bed.
Ah, but she was torturing herself with such thoughts. Like John had
said, the truth would come out later. Now, she needed to focus on her
daughter who was obviously in the midst of a complete nervous breakdown.
She returned everything to the suitcase and snapped the
lid shut. Without a backward glance, she exited the room and locked
the door. She made her way down the long hall toward the elevator
when she heard something behind her. She spun to see a man who wore
only slacks, leaning out the open door of the room she'd just
exited. She recognized his face, his eyes, the scar above his
lip. From where she stood, she could even see the little rose tattoo.
It was Will.
His name had only just left her lips when he smiled and vanished before
her.
-The End-
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