1Before There Was Darkness
Part Five
He opened the door of the now dusty rental car and set foot on the solid ground of his grandparent's Indiana farm. It had been years since he had seen the place, and although the paint was peeling off the roof of the old red barn and the house had aged a little through the years, it looked pretty much like he remembered it.
Dark green shutters, green tin roof, white clapboard siding, and a huge front porch that wrapped around three sides of the two story farmhouse; it was as quaint as it was welcoming. Two wicker rocking chairs sat on either side of wooden demi-barrels overflowing with brightly hued fall flowers. The porch swing, where he had spent hours as a young child, nestled under the protective arm of his grandfather, listening to the tall tales that only a grandfather could spin, still hung to the left of the of the screen door; the screen door that always seemed to need some oil on its hinges. The old tire swing, hung years earlier from the bottom branch of the sprawling oak tree, swayed lazily in the mid-September breeze, waiting for the promise of laughter of great grandchildren that would someday fill the front yard.
He hadn't been here in twenty years, not since the summer he turned ten. That was the last good summer he could honestly remember, before the drinking had taken over their lives, before excuses had to be invented for why they couldn't come, before his childhood had taken that turn for the worse.
The screen door creaked, just as it always had, when he pulled it open; nice to see some things hadn't changed, he thought.
"Mom" he called out, "Anyone home?" The house was silent but the aroma of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies led him to the big country kitchen at the back of the old house.
"Hey, you baked. Are those for me?" He reached out to grab a still warm cookie from the plate in the middle of the butcher block table. She reached out and swatted his hand playfully with the oven mitt.
"First things first, Jimmy. Where's my hug?" He put the cookie back on the plate and pulled her in close, burying his chin in the hair piled neatly on top of her head. A petite woman of five feet and a bit, Carol Dunbar had to strain on tippy toes to reach the cheek of her eldest son. He had inherited his fathers height and build, but he had her sandy blond hair, clear blue eyes and the incredibly long lashes that had been the envy of every woman he'd ever met.
"I can't believe you're here, Jimmy. It's been too long."
"I know, Mom. Maybe I should have come a long time ago, but you know, the job. It's been hard to get away."
She pulled back and held him at arm's length, giving him the mom inspection from head to toe."You look good, Jimmy. You look happy."
"Yeah, I am happy Mom. Things finally seem to be working themselves out."
"And Walter, how's he? I'm going to have to meet that man next time I come to the city." She was very aware of the relationship that had been building between her son and this man. Through her bi-weekly phone calls over the past year she had come to understand the depth of the friendship between the two of them. "I'm not just going to have to meet him, she thought, I'm going to have to thank him."
"Oh, yeah, and when's that going to be? I know he and Dorothy would love to meet you too."
She did one of those shrugs with her shoulders, another thing that mother and son had in common. "Maybe in the spring; I haven't made any plans yet."
"Just let me know when you do. I'll be ready"
"Need some time to clean the place up Jimmy?" she teased.
"Come on, Mom. You know that's not me. Tom maybe," he said in reference to his youngest brother who could never seem to find a hanger or a closet, "but not me."
She laughed at him. "Always so serious Jimmy. You never did like to be teased." She gave him a motherly pat on the butt and turned to the stove to pull the last tray of cookies from the oven.
"Come on. Let's take a cup of coffee and a plate of those cookies to the front porch. Your grandparents should be home anytime now. They're excited to see you."
Once settled in the rocking chairs, a cup of hot coffee in one hand and one of her famous chocolate chip cookies in the other, she gazed at him with one of those looks; the "there's something I need to ask you" look.
"Go ahead, Mom. Whatever's on your mind, out with it."
"Detective work spill over into everything you do Jimmy?" she asked. " How did you know?"
"Just playing out a hunch...come on. It's that look. I haven't seen it in a long, long time." She had turned her head away from him; he took her tiny hand in his. "What is it?"
When she turned to him again, her eyes were misty and her voice cracked when she spoke. "I need to ask you something Jimmy." She hesitated for a minute. "Have you forgiven me?"
He couldn't keep the shock out of his voice. "Where the hell did that come from?"
"I don't know, Cricket. I've asked Ricky and Tom. But I never asked you; I think I was afraid of what you might say."
"God, Mom, I can't believe you would even think that." He stood up and paced the length of the front porch. When he had finished pacing, he stopped in front of her and leaned back against the porch rail. "There was never anything to forgive you for. Maybe I didn't understand it then, but I do now." His eyes were clear and his voice firm. "You did what you had to do and I love you for it, Mom. The only reason that we've come out whole is because of you. If there's anyone who needs to ask for forgiveness it's him. And it's too late for that now."
He knelt down in front of her and held her gaze with his. One tear rolled down her cheek. He brushed it away and smiled at her. That hundred watt smile, she thought, could change the world.
"So we're okay then?" she asked. "Because I was starting to think that maybe you weren't coming to visit because you needed to put some distance between us."
"Mom, please. Don't be silly."
"I'm not Jimmy, really. It's just that you haven't been to visit since I left the City. What else was I going to think?"
It had been exceptionally hard on him when she had packed up the last of her belongings and boarded the plane to Indiana. His brothers had moved on with their own lives, both choosing the quiet pace of small town America. Ricky was with the Muncie, Indiana Police Department and Tommy was in the final year of his Masters in Engineering at the University of Indiana. Once she was gone, there was nothing left of the Dunbars of Red Hook. He was alone, the only one who seemed able to embrace the quickened pulse of life in the big city.
For his mother, he knew the memories were probably better left as far behind as possible for a while; his childhood had been miserable enough; he couldn't even begin to fathom the pain that must have been in her heart all of those years. Even so, her leaving was the last thing he wanted; she needed it, he recognized that but he didn't want her to go, although he never told her. He had supported her decision, only because he knew that she needed time to heal, to find herself again, to feel the comfort of her roots. But never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that she had taken all of that guilt with her.
"That maybe I didn't come because I couldn't? I want you to know right now that it's good. We're all good. And you're the only reason for that."
The look on his face told her everything she needed to know; the truth in his voice told her everything she needed to hear. Her family was fine and while that should have been enough, it was enough, there was one more basis for the sudden lightness in her heart. Jimmy had come home.