The Painting

#83 Powerless - Gan Chumas

"Don't forget the table May! We can do it all in one trip!" Grace yelled from the main entrance as I struggled to climb the last step from the basement.

In honor of the beginning of October, Grace was hosting the last bonfire of the season – and of course this bonfire was to be the biggest yet. Grace pulled out all the stops for the perfect fall gathering with hot dogs, s'mores, and pumpkin and apple donuts that she bought from the Pine Grove Bakery in town square.

Readjusting my grip on the two fold out tables I slammed the basement door closed with my hip and followed her out the front door. Lyle was already on the scene helping Tony pile the firewood in the pit.

"Need a hand there?" She called from ten feet off.

I shook my head and blew a piece of hair out of my face. There was a chilly breeze rippling through the trees on either side of us but I knew that once the fire started going the wind be a welcome contrast to the blistering heat.

"Set up over there by the food." Grace jutted her chin to a space left of the fire pit as she went the opposite direction. "The girls should be bringing the goods out any minute now."

I put the tables together and wandered over to Lyle who had shifted to breaking larger sticks in half and throwing them into the middle of the arrangement.

"Is Frankie coming?" I asked hopefully.

While it was true that I loved Frankie and would be delighted to have him stay with us anytime my true motive was to pry any information from him that may have to do with the police handling of my mother's case.

"He can't make it." Lyle burst my bubble as she snapped another stick over her knee. "He had to go into the city to meet with a client. Something confidential he didn't give me the details."

"But not a meeting with the police?"

"No not with the police."

"Humph." I sighed as I walked away to help the girls set up the food.

As I walked I tugged anxiously at the sleeves of my sweater until I'd balled them up around my fists. Slowly I had been allowing thoughts of Monroe and the trial into my mind. Little by little I they took up space. Most of the time I could keep them under control, in the corners I assigned them, but other times they seeped through the walls.

Tonight was one of those nights. No matter how hard I tried to focus on stacking the donuts into neat rows, or setting up the s'more stand I couldn't shake the thought of him in his cell. It was one of my reoccurring dreams.

I was on the other side of the steel bars while Monroe stood next to a stained white cot in contempt. He would never notice me right away – or at least not let on to it – as he straightened his sleeves and readjusted his cufflinks. A greedy laugh would catch me by surprise as he rubbed one cufflink. When he shifted his gaze to me I felt the room swell and my entire body go numb. Suddenly the protective bars were no more, he would take a step forward and then-.

And then I would wake up.

For whatever reason the dream followed me into the day. I couldn't seem to shake the rattle I felt in my chest as he laughed at me. His laugh reminded me that I was no closer to finding my mother's body or motivating the police to move in on a murder conviction.

It'd been weeks and I'd found nothing. Done nothing. I was failing.

"Hey."

"What?" I snapped whirling around to meet Lyle's soft gaze.

She tilted her head at my sharp response and took a step closer placing her hand on my arm. "What's wrong? You've been off all day, is everything ok?"

There was true concern wove between her words as she led me to the side.

A noncommittal shrug was the best I could do but Lyle understood as she wrapped me in a quick hug. "Tell me."

Set up was ahead of schedule thanks to Grace's over zealous nature and Lyle and I retreated to our cabin where we settled on the porch futon. At first we sat in silence as I swung my legs over the edge. We watched Grace and Tony bring out the folding chairs from the basement while the girls set up game stations for the kids.

"I keep seeing him." I let out a sigh as we listened to Grace's distant orders as she reorganized the chairs. "He's laughing at me - I know he is. He confessed to everything else except for killing my mother. And I know it sounds so self conceded - but it's because of me. It's my fault he won't go away for the rest of his life, and if - when he gets out..." I trailed off.

Gently Lyle pulled my head closer until I rested on her shoulder.

"It's his last stand to reduce me to the powerlessness I've felt all my life - and it's working." As I spoke I picked at a hole in Lyle's jeans until the threads gave way to her bare skin.

"May it's because of you that Monroe has felt any justice at all. You should be proud of that." She softly reminded.

I nodded a simple thanks into her shoulder. "I know, but it's not enough for me. I want it all - I want closure that's more than steel bars. I want-" My voice broke. I didn't have the heart to say it. Because all I ever wanted, the reason I continued to look was because I wanted my mother. I wanted a family.

Solving my mother's disappearance would quench that need, or so I thought. I pictured a man hole cover at the end of the tunnel, just big enough to seal the passage I'd been stuck in for so long. The light would wash over me as I stood on the other side, relieved and vindicated. But, instead, there was no cover, not even a drape for me to close off the dark past I had uncovered. I stood at the end of the tunnel, not sure if I could step beyond the dark walls. Would the ground on the other side catch me?

We sat in silence as Lyle held me close.

The guests began to arrive, marching past the cabin in packs toting their coolers and lawn chairs. I watched a little girl cling to her mother's hand as she struggled to keep up with the woman's wide footsteps. 

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