Day two dawned, hot and bright. Marianne showered and searched through the box of thrift shop clothing for a pair of jeans or something casual to wear. She found three faded and worn blouses, two pairs of pedal pushers, a flared skirt and two pairs of shorts. Disgusted, she decided on the shorts and went to the closet where some of her old clothes still hung. Why had her mother left her old clothing there? She had grown taller and her figure had grown fuller and rounder. There was nothing at all to wear. She pulled on a plaid blouse over a pair of khaki shorts.
They had given her $40.00 on her release. She rolled it into a wad and stuffed it into her pocket. Would it be enough? She didn’t know for sure but thought the trip into town and the walk would surely do her good. Just getting out of this house would do her good. She pushed her hair back and put some brown clips in it from the jewelry box on the dresser, and went out into the kitchen. The house was quiet. Mavis and Rex were still sleeping. Anyway, she assumed they were sleeping since the bedroom door was closed.
She quickly made herself a bowl of cornflakes and some toast. Sat down and gulped it down, started a pot of coffee, then quietly slipped out the back door, making sure she didn’t slam it. She walked through the residential neighborhood, looking at each house as she walked. The sunshine felt good on her shoulders. She remembered the way to town and went to The Fair Store, the only department store left in downtown Aniston. The rest of the stores had all moved one by one to the bypass on the outskirts of town. It had been such a very long time since she had been in any store at all. She walked up and down the aisles slowly, savoring every moment of her new freedom. She selected a couple of T-shirts and some underwear and headed to the counter.
She was aware that the woman at the counter was watching her. “Do I know you?” she asked.
“No, but I think I know who you are.”
Marianne thought she could read what the woman must be thinking. This is the one that killed her little sister with a claw hammer. The one that’s been in the looney bin all these years.
“You’re Marianne Singer, aren’t you?” The woman was neatly made up but with a slightly tired look. She appeared to be about Mavis’ age
Marianne looked down at the carpet then at the Tee shirt she was holding. It had painted red lips across the front and some silvery splashes surrounding the lips. “Yes. It’s me alright.”
“I’m Claudia Yates. You remember me don’t you?” Seeing that she didn’t, she went on talking. “I’m Michael’s mother. You remember Michael don’t you? He surely remembers you. He talked about you all the time. He was very upset about what happened to you. He even tried to visit you but they wouldn’t let him because of his age.”
Marianne was surprised at the revelation. She sat her purchases down on the counter.
“None of us ever believed that you did it and always hoped the one who really did it would come to justice.” She rang the things up on the cash register. It only came to $10.59 but before Marianne could get the money out of her pocket the woman was talking again. “You were always such a sweet girl. You were just a child. You didn’t deserve to be punished. Not like that.”
Marianne shuffled her feet. She didn’t know what to answer. She plunked the money down on the counter and wished the woman would quit talking.
“You have a chance to make a new life for yourself now, Marianne. Feel welcome to come and visit us at any time. If there’s anything we can do to help, just let us know. We still live in the same house. You remember it don’t you?” Seeing that she didn’t, she quickly jotted the address and phone number on a small slip of paper and handed it to Marianne. She briefly looked at it, then jammed it into the pocket of her shorts.
The sun was hot on her back when she went back onto the sidewalk. It was only June. If it was this hot already, what would the summer be like? She wandered a couple of blocks and found a new park in the center of town. Many changes had been made since she had been away and there were no recognizable landmarks. She sat on a park bench, facing Peter Facinelli’s offices. That building seemed to be unchanged.
She saw a sleek white convertible pull over to the curb and come to a stop. Some children were splashing in the fountain in the center of the park. They squealed in delight and she turned her head to watch them.
“Hello, Marianne.”
She looked up, startled. It was Leon. His voice came across a distance of ten years, unchanged. She jumped up and stood facing him.
“Wait. Don’t be afraid. It’s just me, Leon. You do remember me don’t you?”
“I haven’t forgotten your name,” she said at last. “It’s just that I’m surprised to see you...after all these years, I mean.”
Noticing the lack of a welcoming smile, he jingled the money in his pants pocket, pulled out a quarter and began flipping it with his thumb. He was good at it. He held out the quarter to her. “You want to try it, Marianne?”
She stared at his hands wondering if they had touched her. She couldn’t remember. She thought she might spend the rest of her life wondering who had touched her. “Go ahead take it,” he said. “It’s easy.” He put the coin back into his pocket and jingled the coins again. “Oh, forgive me. I’ve forgotten that you are a grown up young lady now, and a very pretty one too. I heard you were back.”
Marianne started to move away.
He touched her arm as if to stop her from leaving. “You remember the lucky silver dollar I gave you? It didn’t bring you much luck did it?”
Blood was pounding in Marianne’s head making her deaf. Did she play house with Leon? She couldn’t remember. She started walking away rapidly. Leon quickly followed her, leaning hard on his cane. “Marianne, wait. Listen to me. I just want to talk to you. I never believed you did anything wrong. What did they do to you to make you so afraid?”
Marianne shut her eyes but she couldn’t shut out his voice.
“I’ve done all sorts of things—“
What had he done? What had he done with her?
“Some of them I regret.”
Had he played house with her? Is that one of the things he regretted?
“I’ve done things with girls. I’ve played, I’ve gambled. I’ve made money, I’ve spent money. I haven’t always been as honest as I should have been. I’ve made mistakes. Why were you punished so severely and I haven’t been punished at all? No one ever punished me for the things I did. Talk to me, Marianne. Talking to me might help you. Remember how we used to laugh?”
Marianne shivered, but said; “Yes. Of course I remember you Uncle Leon.”
He smiled. His smile was uneven. His smile turned down on the right side where the scar was. His beard was growing even though it was early afternoon. His hair was straight and coarse and black.
“That’s my car out there, Marianne. I’ll give you a ride home.”
The car seat was soft and deep and very comfortable. Marianne sank deep into the soft leather seat. The car floated easily down the street, almost like a boat in water.
“Thanks for talking to me today, Marianne. And for letting me give you a lift.”
He turned to look at her. “You’re a real stunner, Marianne. I’d like a chance to dress you like a million dollars. Take you to Vegas show you off. I could treat you like a queen.”
“I’m on parole for a year. I can’t go anywhere.”
“Maybe I could talk to them. Get permission or something. You just got out of prison. It would do you good to get out and look around. See how the world has changed.”
“No. Please don’t talk to anybody.” The last thing she wanted was for Woody to think that she was looking for the first opportunity to bend the rules.
“I can wait. I’d really like to see you happy, Marianne. All of us regret what has happened. I’d like to help you in any way I can.”
He turned the corner on Sycamore Street and drove down four blocks to their street and pulled up out front.
Marianne pulled the car door open before he had turned the engine off.
“Thank you for the lift,” she said and slammed the car door shut.
Leon jumped out of the car. He called to her. “Just remember that you have a friend, if you need one. I will be here another week. Drop in any time.” He hurried to catch her and gave her a business card with his phone numbers on it. “The bottom one is my cell phone. You can reach me on it anytime. It’s an eight hundred number. No long distance charges, even when I’m in Vegas. Call me anytime you want to talk.”
Marianne shoved the card into her pocket along with Claudia’s address, although she doubted whether she would call him. What does he want from me? I don’t trust him. She hurried up the front steps, retrieved the key from under the mat and let herself in.
No one was home even though it was early afternoon. She heaved a relieved sigh that Rex wasn’t there. It was nerve wracking enough just to try and adjust to her new life, without him agitating her. She walked through to the kitchen and set the packages on the table. Then went to the refrigerator and retrieved a piece of turkey from the deli platter, rolled it up then sat at the table and ate it without bread. In some ways life was simple at IRC. Food was prepared and sat before them. They didn’t have to think about what to eat, what to answer all these nosy people. That’s what it is, you know. They are all curious about the murderess.