"Your cousin left me a telephone number so I could call to tell him whether you arrived safely. You want me to tell him anything else?"
"Just say thanks, but don't tell him about the other things. I don't want him to know how terrible my trip was, okay?"
She nodded.
"It will take me a little while to get everything together and get back."
"That's all right. I want to go to the cemetery to pay my respects to Papa George and visit my daddy's grave."
"You mean the man you thought was your daddy," she corrected.
"Yes."
"Okay. I'll meet you back here. bring a radio that works on batteries so we can have music. I've got a lot to tell you about the kids at school. Bobby Lockwood's going with Mary Hartman."
"Okay," I said, trying to sound interested, even though it sounded very insignificant to me at the moment.
"I'm glad you're back, even if it's not for long," Alice said, squeezing my hand. "See you in about an hour."
She hurried from the trailer. I followed soon afterward. The sky became more and more overcast, making everything gray and dreary by the time I arrived at the cemetery. It didn't take me long to find Papa George's fresh grave. Under his name were the dates of his birth and death.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here to see you one more time, Papa George. You were my real grandfather and will always be in my heart."
I kissed the top of his tombstone and then walked down the path to Daddy's. For a long moment I stood there, just looking at the familiar carving. Then I shook my head, the tears running down my cheeks.
"Why, Daddy? Why didn't you tell me the truth?" I glared at the grave. I wanted to be angry, to hate him, but all I could see was his smiling face, his warm eyes, his happiness at the sight of me.
"I'm all alone now, Daddy. I'm really all alone."
I knelt at his grave and said a prayer. I asked that he and Mommy be forgiven for anything terrible they might have done and I asked for mercy. Then I stood up and stared at the tombstone for a long moment until a funny thought came to mind.
"If Papa George is with you, he's bawling you out for sure, Daddy. I can almost hear him."
I sighed deeply and then walked back to Mineral Acres. Soon afterward, Alice arrived bearing bags of food and news.
"Your cousin answered the phone. He said he was waiting for my call all day. He sounds nice, Melody."
"He is. You didn't tell him any of the bad things, did you, Alice?"
"No," she said, but the way she lowered her eyes quickly told me otherwise. "He said he hopes you'll come back."
"You told him about Mama Arlene and Papa George then?"
"He asked me. You didn't tell me not to tell him that," she protested.
"It doesn't matter, I suppose."
She smiled and began to unpack. She had brought two candles and candle holders and we had to light them right away because the twilight--blocked by the heavy clouds--made it very dark in the dingy trailer.
"I didn't know what to bring," she said, "so I brought whatever I could."
Her leftovers included chicken, some cold pasta, fruit, cookies, bread, a jar of honey, tuna fish, and two bars of chocolate. The sight of food reminded me how very hungry I was. Alice, still quite overweight, didn't need any reminders or excuses. Whatever I ate, she ate. As we gobbled away, she related all the stories about the kids at school. She described Bobby Lockwood's new love affair as if it were the hottest relationship in America. Finally exhausted, she begged me to tell her about the students in Provincetown. I was reluctant to stir up the raw memories, but she pleaded and pleaded, telling me how unfair it was for me to have listened to her and not tell her anything. Finally, I gave in and described the last few weeks. She was glued to my every word.
The candles burned down. Darkness closed in around us and with it, the cool air.
"You should at least come to my house to sleep," she said. "You can come back here in the morning if you want. What are you going to do?" She fired her questions at me before I could think of a single idea.
Finally, something occurred to me. "How much money can you lend me, Alice?"