The Wake Trilogy: Gone Part 6

"I think it'll be better if I do it alone. But thanks."

"I figured. Call me, 'kay?"

Freakishly, Janie's phone rings as he says it.

"It's Carriea"I gotta take this." Janie blows a kiss to Cabel as she ascends the stairs and she answers it. "Carrie!"

"Yo, b.i.t.c.h, my phone's charged up again. How's the whole family soap opera going today? You okay?"

"It's weird, and it's a mess, but it's okay. Thank you again for taking care of my mother. You're the best."

"No problem. Somebody's gotta clean up the neighborhood, right?"

"Ouch. Jeez, Carrie!" But Janie chuckles anyway.

"Well, you know where to find me if you need me," Carrie says. "Hey?"

"Hey what?"

"I'm engaged."

"What?"

"Stu asked me last night."

"Oh Em Gee what the Ef barbecue!" Janie says. "And you said yes?"

"Obviously, since I just said I was engaged."

"Wow, Carrie. Are you . . . are you sure? Are you happy about it?"

"Yeah. I mean yes, totally! I know Stu's the guy I want to be with."

"But?"

"But I wasn't quite expecting it yet."

Janie, having walked from Cabel's to her own house, walks to Carrie's instead. "Are you home?"

"Yeah."

"Can I come in?"

"Sweet," Carrie says, sounding relieved. "Yeah, come on in. My room, of course."

"Okay, bye." Janie hangs up her phone and lets herself in. She barges into Carrie's room and flops down on the bed. Carrie sits at a little dressing table, working her hair with a straightening wand in front of the mirror.

"So," Janie says. "You got a ring or what?"

Carrie grins and holds out her hand. "It feels weird. It's sort of embarra.s.sing, you know?"

"What did your mom say?"

"She said I better not be pregnant."

Janie snorts. "What the h.e.l.l is wrong with our parents, anyway? Waita"you're not, are you?"

"Of course not! Sheesh, Janers! I may not have gotten the best grades in school, but I'm not stupid. You know I'm on the Pill. And his Jimmy doesn't get near me without a raincoat, yadamean? Ain't nothin' getting through my little fortress!"

"Okay, good. Sheesh." Janie laughs again. "So . . . but you sounded a little like you're not sure about this."

Carrie sets the straightening wand on her dressing table and sighs. "I want to marry Stu. I do. There's n.o.body else and he's not pressuring me or anything. But he talked about setting a date, like next summer so I can get in my year of beauty school first but I'm just . . . I don't know. It's such a huge thing. I don't want to screw it up."

Janie remains quiet and lets Carrie get it all out. It feels weird to be normal again, sitting and hanging out with Carrie.

Janie wouldn't mind trading problems with her.

"Anyway, that's my junk of the day. What are you up to?" Carrie smoothes her straightened hair with some gooey, shiny product.

"I gotta go home, try and figure out what the deal is with my mother and this guy Henry. I don't have a clue what's going on. I need to get my mother to talk to me."

Carrie looks at Janie in the mirror shakes her head. "Good luck with that. Talking to your mom is like talking to that G.o.dot guy."

Janie laughs. Loves Carrie. Says, "Maybe I'll just get drunk with her and we'll fight it out, barroom style."

"Heh. Call me if you do that. I'd like to watch."

Janie grins and gives Carrie a quick hug. "Will do."

As Janie walks home, she thinks maybe that's not such a bad idea.

SHE SPEAKS.

4:01 p.m.

Janie takes a few deep breaths, filling herself with confidence that's not quite there. But she'll take what she can get. She grabs a can of beer from the fridge stash and pops it open, taking a bitter sip. She hasn't had any alcohol since the night at Durbin's, so this feels a little creepy.

She waits on the couch, hoping her mother will come out on her own.

4:46 p.m.

Still waiting. Beer gone.

Grabs another beer. Turns on the TV and watches Judge Judy.

Switches the channel to a game showa"judges conjure up too many bad memories.

5:39 p.m.

Where the h.e.l.l is she? Figures she's got to go after her.

Right after she pees.

5:43 p.m.

Janie opens her mother's door, two cans of beer in hand. One as an offering. Or maybe a bribe. But then Janie falls to the floor unceremoniously, dropping the cans, sucked into a dream. She hears a pop and a fizzing sound and knows at least one can broke open.

The noise isn't even enough to rouse Dorothea Hannagan from her drunken stupor. d.a.m.n it, Janie thinks. Dreams plus booze equals not cool.

Janie's head spins as she tries and fails to pull out of the dream.

They are in a line outside a building, Dorothea jiggling a crying baby. Janie knows she is the babya"who else would it be? They move slowly but the building moves too, farther away, making the wait endless. It's a shelter, or maybe a food bank. Janie stands in the road, watching her mother, trying to get her attention. Maybe this time, Janie can help change it. "Look at me," Janie thinks, trying to concentrate. "Look at me."

But Janie's sensibilities are off, not strong enough at the moment, and Dorothea merely glances at Janie and then looks away. She grows more impatient as she waits in line. Finally, Janie pulls her gaze away from her mother and looks to the front of the line, to the building. There are two windows.

Above the windows, a giant sign.

"Babies for Food."

That's what the sign says.

Janie watches people deposit their babies in one window and take a box of food from the other.

With all her might, Janie wants to scream, but she can't. She pulls her strength together and crawls blindly across the floor to the bed, b.u.t.ting her head up against it, flailing her numb arms on top of the mattress, not even sure if she's. .h.i.tting her mother, trying to wake her. Trying to get out of this nightmare.

Finally, everything goes black.

At the same time, from both yelling mouths: "What is wrong with you?"

Janie still can't see. She's feeling wet, soaked by the beer can that exploded. Dorothea shoves Janie. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing?"

Janie pretends she can see. Her eyes are open, after all. "Ia"I tripped."

"Get outa here, you good for nothinga""

"Stop it!" Janie is half-drunk, confused, and blind. But she's done with this. "Stop talking to me like that! Don't give me that *good for nothing' bulls.h.i.t. Without me, you'd be on the street and you know it, so just shut your d.a.m.n mouth!"

Janie's mother is stunned.

Janie is shocked by her own words.

Thus, the silence.

As the world comes back into view for Janie and she can move once again, she gets unsteadily to her feet and picks up the cans. "What a freaking mess," she mutters. "I'll be right back."

Janie returns with dishcloths and starts wiping it up. "You know, Mother, it wouldn't kill you to help me."

After a minute, Janie's mother eases her way to the floor and helps. "You been drinking?" Dorothea grunts.

"So what? Why should you care?" Janie's still p.i.s.sed off and a little freaked out by the nightmare. "Why do you hate me so much?"

Janie's mother leans over to reach a wet spot on the floor. When she speaks, her voice is softer. "I don't hate you."

Janie's frustrated. "What's going on? What's the deal with this Henry guy? I think I deserve to know what happened."

Dorothea looks away. Shrugs. "He's your father."

"Yeah, you mentioned that. What, do I have to ask specific questions here or can you just tell me about him? Sheesh!"

Dorothea frowns. "His name's Henry Feingold. We met in Chicago when I was sixteen. He was a student at U of M, but home for the summer. Working over at Lou Malnati's Pizzeria in Lincolnwood. I worked there too, waitressing."

Janie tries to imagine her mother actually working. "And then what? He got you pregnant and took off? He's an a.s.shole? How did you end up here in Fieldridge?"

"Forget it. I'm not talking about this."

"Come on, Mother. Where does he live?"

"No idea. Around here somewheres. I quit school. Followed him here. We lived together for a while and then he took off and I never saw him again. There. Happy?"

"Did he know you were pregnant?"

"No. None of his business."

"Buta"buta"how did you know he was in the hospital?"

Janie's mother has a vacant look in her eyes, now. "He had one of them legal papersa"gave it to the paramedics. He had me down as the person to contact. It says he don't want any heroic measures. That's what the nurse told me."

Janie is silent.

Dorothea continues, softer. "I think maybe I oughta have one of them papers too. So you don't have to keep me hanging on when my liver rots out."

Janie looks away and sighs.

Feels like she's supposed to protest.

But who is she kidding? "Yeah," she says. "Maybe."

Dorothea lies down on the bed again. Turns away. "I mean it. I don't want to talk no more about this. I'm done with it."

After a moment of quiet, Janie gets up, unsteadily walks to the bathroom, throws up a few cans worth of cheap beer, and then some. "Never again," she echoes.

Then she crawls into her room, closes the door, climbs into bed and sleeps.

2:12 a.m.

Janie's running.

And running.