“Say Hello to your mother, Marianne,” Mrs. Lewis said. She held the small suitcase Mavis had brought on her last visit. Now it was packed with everything Marianne owned. Her felt slippers were in there, and her underwear and nightgown. The handmade fake bible the girls had given her and some talcum powder that Mrs. Lewis brought her. Her cross was safely in her purse.
She leaned her head down and kissed her mother on the cheek. The feeling of being huge and somehow clumsy swept over her again. She had never regretted being tall but right now it seemed ridiculous to have to look down at her mother. Her mother reached up and kissed her, a tiny, quick peck on the cheek. Mavis blouse was tight across her large breasts. The girls said her breasts were big like grapefruit or volleyballs. Marianne looked away. A twinge of something like jealousy tore across her mind. Her own breasts were small. Don’t be ridiculous, this is your mother.
A flutter of panic beat in her chest and a hollow opened up in her stomach as the reality of what was happening fully crashed in on her.
Mr. Munson, the Assistant Superintendent, sat behind a desk in the reception area. “Today’s the big day, huh?” He was a rather homely man of around fifty. He combed his thinning hair sideways over his bald head. Today he looked very tidy in a tweed jacket, and grey wool slacks. His burgundy tie was knotted perfectly. He had final release papers that needed to be signed. He motioned for them to have a seat. Marianne paused to look out the window at the guard tower. She was beginning to feel impatient. Unfortunately, the outside still seemed frustratingly far away.
Finally, she was handed her release papers and her belongings and was escorted to the Gatehouse area, where she got her last look at the inside of the Indiana Rehabilitation Center. Once out, she would not be able to return for visits due to her criminal record. There would be no going back. No further ties with her friends in the institution.
Mr. Munson led the way to the parking lot, then came Marianne and Mavis. Behind were Mrs. Lewis and Bill. Bill was carrying the suitcase now. Marianne felt their eyes meet around her, congratulating each other. Mrs. Lewis felt good because one of “her girls” was going outside, Mr. Munson felt good because of the budget, she surmised and Bill felt good because he was her friend and he wanted her to have a good life. Mavis looked as though she didn’t feel so good.
“Why are you walking so funny?” Mavis hissed. She seemed more nervous than usual. Her short skirt showed a run in her black stockings. A thin streak of pale white flesh showed through. She wore pointed toe, high heeled shoes.
“I don’t want to scratch my new shoes on the gravel,” Marianne said. They stopped in front of a black compact car. “Is this our car?” Marianne asked before she could stop herself. “Our car was blue.” That was stupid. “I know the old one would have been worn out by now,” she said. “It’s just different that’s all.”
“You’re different too,” Mavis said.
Bill put the suitcase in the back of the car. Mr. Munson helped Mavis in on her side. Bill opened the door of the car for Marianne on her side. “I’ll see you in a month,” he said, leaning down.
A month! A whole month!
Bill straightened up and shut the door.
Inside, Marianne had seen him every week, even if it was only for thirty minutes. A month would seem a lifetime.
The car started and began to move and they headed off. Marianne was nervous and excited all at once.
“I thought we’d drive right through without stopping,” Mavis said. “I made cold cuts for us at home all ready for lunch. I planned it that way. All we have to do is take it out of the fridge.”
Marianne had no idea how long the trip would be. She had not even thought about being alone with her mother on the trip. I should have prepared something to talk about, she thought. She stared at her hands in her lap. “Thanks for the new clothes,” she said.
“See that you take care of them. Money don’t grow on trees.”
“The shoes are the latest style,” Mavis said. “Don’t forget to thank Rex for them. Not every man would accept a twenty-one year old that can’t pay her own way. It’s not like taking a child. They’re small. They can’t do for themselves. You’re a grown woman but you’ll have to mind. You hear?”
The road stretched out before them. Marianne felt sick. “I’ll thank him as soon as I see him,” she said.
“The freeway is new,” Mavis said. “Some of the girls won’t drive the freeway.”
Marianne didn’t know which girls she meant.
“They’re afraid of the traffic. But driving don’t bother me. I drive like a man. Even Rex says so. I guess you remember he don’t throw compliments around. Men like to think they’re strong, but when there’s trouble, where are they? They can’t face facts. He’s waiting for you at home.”
“Is it the same house?”
“We didn’t strike it rich while you were gone, if that’s what you mean. Maybe you thought we were living it up. With a pool maybe, or even our own jet.”
“I’m sorry for what I said about the car,” she apologized.
“Some people turn over their cars every couple of years. The Facinelli’s do. We were lucky we were able to get this one. It’s nearly five years old now.” She glanced over at Marianne. “We’ve been marking time, same as you. Seems like everything stopped when Shelby died. I can’t get Rex to do anything at all anymore. All he wants to do is sit and drink beer, when he’s home that is. ‘Not now, some other time’” she mimicked. “I don’t know what he’s waiting for. He don’t even go near his workshop anymore.”
In the bright sunlight, she looked old and ugly. Her cheeks sagged. She felt bad about Shelby. She had cried an ocean of tears for Shelby. She wished she were bringing Shelby home, not Marianne who was twenty-one and didn’t have a job.
“It’s a good thing I have a full time job. What gets done, I pay for.”
Her lips moved as though she was talking to herself. Then she turned to Marianne again. “We had an accident. That’s what it was, an accident. I couldn’t even get Rex to empty the sandbox. I did it myself, with Shelby’s little pail and shovel, crying all the time. The tears I’ve cried could fill the ocean.”
Marianne stared at her. “What do you see?” she asked, putting one hand up to touch her hair. “Do you like my hair this way? I just got a touch-up, just a rinse. I hardly have any gray. Most women my age have a lot of gray. I’m lucky that way.”
“Does Rex have gray hair?”
“What? No. I guess he’ll never get gray. He doesn’t worry enough. But he’s losing his hair on top of his head. He doesn’t like anyone to mention it. Don’t say a word about it. I guess you’ll have a lot to catch up on.”
“At IRC they let us have House Beautiful magazine and fashion magazines. They didn’t let us have movie magazines or confession story magazines but sometimes a visitor would smuggle one in. We had to hide them from the staff.”
“So I guess you know everything.”
“Not really. We weren’t allowed to use any make-up or have long hair.”
“Well, now you can let it grow. You could use a little more hair around your face. Although I do suppose it’s easier to keep in place short like that.”
“A girl hung herself by her hair when it was long.”
“Did you see her do it?”
“No. It was a long time ago.”
“Well, you don’t have to talk about things like that. All that is over and done with. No one wants to hear about it. Take my advice and forget about it. Your hair will grow fast if it’s like mine. Then I’ll show you how to style it. Maybe I can even give you a home perm. Make you look more normal. I suppose you weren’t allowed to have perms?”
“The girls taking the hairdressing courses could. I took the computer course.”
“You don’t know it but you had the easy part. It wasn’t that easy for Rex and I. You’ve got to remember that and do your part. We don’t want to be reminded where you’ve been or that you’re different. Just try to be normal, you hear?”
“I’m not deaf.”
“That kind of talk will get you a slap when I don’t have to keep my hands on the wheel.”
“I didn’t mean anything. All the girls at IRC talk like that.”
“Just remember who it is that you’re talking to now.”
“Do we have much farther to go?”
“Far enough. I hated to make this long trip to come to visit you. I have so much to do, with my job and doing everything at home. That’s why I didn’t come to visit any more than I had to.”
“I know it wasn’t easy,” Marianne said.
“Do you mind not talking? I don’t like someone talking in heavy traffic.”
Marianne gazed out the window. Everything looked different to her. Buildings seemed bigger and different styles than she remembered. There were more cars than she ever remembered seeing.
“Everything goes by so fast,” she said.
“If you think I drive fast, just wait until you ride with Rex.”
He went to get see his buddy and he wouldn’t let her go along because he couldn’t find Shelby.
“I guess you’re a little nervous seeing him again after all this time. You got to let bygones be bygones, you know that don’t you?”
“What bygones?”
“Men don’t like scenes. Just be natural. Your doctor said that. Just be natural.”
Nobody spoke the rest of the way into Madison County until a car full of youngsters, weaving in and out of traffic pulled directly into their path.
“Just look at those crazy fools,” Mavis screeched. She hit the horn, scooted her bottom forward on the seat and stretched her leg to press hard on the accelerator. When she was ahead of them she continued. “It’s young punks like that, that cause our insurance rates to skyrocket.” She let out a long sigh.
“They say the early years are the formative ones. I don’t know. Maybe I should have sent you to Sunday school. But Rex wouldn’t get up to take you and wouldn’t let me get up. Why did this happen to me? Today’s kids run wild. Drugs, sex and dirty books. I warn you. I won’t take anything like that from you.” Her voice dropped. “What did you girls do about, you know, about boys?”
“There weren’t any boys.”
“Did you sneak out to meet boys?”
“No, Ma’am.”
“Don’t call me that. It makes me feel too old.”
“Ten years is a long time. You’re not a little girl now. You’re a woman. You’re a whole different person. People tell me that I haven’t changed at all. They know me right off, even when I haven’t seen them for years. I ran into an old high school friend just the other day. She knew me right off. Called me ‘Mavis Singer.’ Of course, that was my maiden name. I had to pretend that she hadn’t changed either but of course, she had. I hardly knew her. She looked like an old lady with gray hair and everything.”
About a hundred yards further, they ran into traffic that had slowed to a stop. Mavis pulled into position behind the long line of cars.
“Must’a been an accident up ahead. And no way out. Nothin’ to do but wait it out.”
She checked her image in the mirror and applied some fresh pink lipstick.
She persisted in her line of questioning. “What do the girls in there do about sex?”
Marianne was quiet for a heartbeat. She knew the stories about the girls slipping off in pairs to be alone in the showers, while others waited outside for the matron to come by. They had a special whistle to alert the girls in the showers. She also knew that some of them sneaked hotdogs or bananas out of the dining room with bits of clear plastic wrap to wrap them in. She wasn’t about to tell Mavis that.
“They showed us pictures and films. The class was called ‘Family Living,’” she said.
“Some of those girls looked pretty developed. Swinging their hips around, especially the black girls. They look like they’re getting it somewhere. . . .”
“You know the rules don’t you? No boys, no sneaking out on dates, no getting into trouble.”
“I know. Bill told me.”
“You don’t call him by his first name do you?”
“He said I could.”
“I’m sure I tried to teach you right. If you learned otherwise, you didn’t learn it from me. You must have learned it from those other girls in that institution. Rex knows how to get respect. He’ll take his belt to you even now. You’re not too big.”
“Does he take it to you?”
“You better watch yourself, Marianne.”
“I didn’t mean anything.” Her voice dropped off, as if they had left it somewhere behind on the road.