Lost

Before the final tallies, Kelly waited, hoping she was wrong. But when the announcements are made and she is out of a job, her eyes left the tv. Searched for Leah.

In a plush chair, Leah runs fingers through her dark hair as though weaving thick ribbons. On her lap she is holding a plush black pillow. Under Kelly’s gaze, Leah blinks her wide blue eyes.  

“Can you and Paulo go and set up the Hillsborough place?” Kelly asks.

Leah nods, uncrossing her legs, and then recrossing them beneath her. Her hands go to the pillow she is holding, squeezes so that the heart in its center is crushed pink. Then her arms smoothed the beige wool over her stomach before wrapping about her middle.

Reaching the yellow house is starting a new chapter.

Getting out of her Miata, Kelly sets Rupert down on the cobblestone drive. He sniffs the cool May morning air as the quiet wind rustles through her willows in front of her princess house.

She and Gary hadn’t been thinking of purchasing when they drove by its for sale sign. They’d only gone for the country drive to escape the hectic race of their city lives. “Stop. Stop the car. Go back. I want to see that house.” It was a child’s doll house come to life. Even had a turret that would be her tower where she could paint or write books while looking out at garden strings. So much had happened since.

Is she foolish old woman coming here, alone, to write memoires? Who would even care to read them? Was fifty-five even old enough to write memoires?

Rupert tugs at his leash, pulling her towards stones leading to front steps.

Inside the kitchen Kelly breathes in a cinnamon scent. Had Leah made cookies? Kelly hoped not. She didn’t want her to go to that much trouble. But no, a scented candle is burning on the table. Leah thinks of everything.

“Oh Mayor Kelly, we didn’t hear you arrive. Paulo. Hurry up. Go get her bags.”

Before Kelly could argue, Paulo rushes and is back with her bags in hand. She’s brought a suitcase of country living clothes, two bags of art supplies, and a basket of writing paper, notebooks, and pens. After everything is in its right place, Leah and Paulo set to leave.

It is late morning when Kelly walks them out. As Paulo arranges the jeep, Leah repeats, “Are you sure you don’t want me to at least make coffee before we go?”

Paulo slams the trunk closed. “She says she’ll be fine.” Walking round to them, he pats back of Leah’s shoulder. “Stop fussing.”

The jeep disappears around a bend in the road. Leaving Kelly alone in the day’s chill.

Inside her reflection shines from the polished wood and counters as she pokes about her shelves. She hadn’t seen her knickknacks or books since Christmas and never had the leisure of alone time for thoughtful consideration. Is she foolish keeping her princess house with Gary gone, and Kate off in Japan teaching English?

 But Kate might return. What if she someday wants the house?

With Rupert following, Kelly reaches the grand piano in the music room. Is it even in tune? Lifting the key lid, Kelly strikes a few notes, but she hasn’t a musical ear and isn’t there to play. Closing the lid, she crosses to her studio.

Sun streams through the wide windows beaconing her to look out at the half-frozen side yard. The small brook at the bottom of a shallow gulley is a mix of white ice and dark water. By end of spring, it will be home of frogs and minnows, but this early the landscape is bleak. Though not crooked, Kelly adjusts the board on an easel and looks at her writing desk.

Memoire writing desk.

With heavy steps that cause Rupert to raise his ears, Kelly sits at her desk and picks up a pen. Where to start. She straightens her papers and writes Memoire at the top. Then the date.

She looks at Rupert curled by the door. At Gary’s picture on her desk.

Should she start with how they met. How her parents met? Something about her grandparents’ backgrounds.

Yawning, Rupert lays his head on his paws.

Maybe coffee would help. They go back to the kitchen.

The pantry is stocked with regular coffee, hazelnut coffee and decaf and there are boxes of tea, black and several herbal ones. Milk and fruit juice are in the fridge. Even cut flowers on the counter and kitchen table. Food and dog treats for Rupert.

Too bad Leah was so thorough. If missing something, Kelly could go to town. But what else could she need. Except for maybe another Leah.

“What do you think, Rupert?”

The schnauzer cocks his head thoughtfully.

Kelly scrawls a note and tears it from her notepad. They go out and soon the Miata is parking outside the Hillsborough Market.

Through the door, she hears, “Sorry ma’am, but you can’t bring a dog in here.” A young woman wearing a green apron is approaching.

Putting on her contrite face, Kelly nods. “Oh that was stupid of me. I guess I wasn’t thinking, would it be alright if I just have a quick look around.”

She and the grocery clerk look at each other. Instead of recognition, the clerk looks puzzled.

Apparently, this isn’t the city.

“Really, I’ve just come to put up this sign.” She holds out her ‘housekeeping help wanted’ note. “For the Bristol house.”

The clerk still looks puzzled. “Is that the big yellow one?”

“That’s the one. I’m looking for a housekeep. Just someone to keep the place tidy, if you know of anyone.”

“I guess you can post the sign,” she points at the store’s bulletin board.

“Thank you. That’s very helpful of you. Umm, what was your name.”

“Barbara.”

“Well Barbara, thanks again for your help. And please let anyone you think might suit know I’m looking.”

“Alright.” Barbara goes back inside the store.

Oh well. At least the woman was helpful even if she didn’t recognize her.

There is lots of space to tack up her notice. Aside from a picture of a sad eyed man, there are two cue cards. A blue one advertises babysitting and yellow, guitar lessons. Kelly pauses to look at the sad man’s penetrating gaze. Missing. Last seen wearing a blue t-shirt and jeans. October.

Kelly’s heart framed ad looks out of place on the board. But that is why she came.

Terrible. What good could her memoire do. What good had she done. There were more homeless than when she was elected.

“Barbara,” turning away from the haunting eyes, Kelly calls into the store, “Barbara.”

Barbara came out looking respectful. “Yes, ma’am.” Maybe someone told her.

“I was thinking I’d like to take Rupert here for a walk. Obviously, a market is not suited for dog walking. I thought you might know a better place.”

“There is a hiking trail down to the cliffs. About a mile. Mile and a half up the road.”

“Some sort of nature area.”

“Yeah. Great place for walking around. You might even find some fossils.”

“Ok thanks.” Waving good-bye, Kelly takes Rupert out to the Miata. After the third bend, she sees a blue sign with a picture of a skeletal mastodon. It reads Hillsborough Bluffs.

Despite Barbara’s recommendation, there is no way down the cliffs. The picnic area is only bare wood jutting from a snow field. The trail a mix of sloshy snow and gooey mud through ridges of treelined rocks.

Maybe in a few days.

Scanning the coast, Kelly sees her yellow house is not far. Had she wings, or a broom, she could have glided over the fifty frozen feet.

Kelly turns the car in a circle. Following the curve of the winding road, she drives the three kilometers back to her house.

Time to focus on her memoire.

Inside, she gathers photo albums and home videos and sits on the couch, not noticing the day darkening until hearing her cell phone.

“Hello.”

Someone about her ad.

“Yes, I’m still looking. I have a dog. Just a small miniature schnauzer. You don’t have a problem with animals, eh?” Kelly rubbed Rupert’s ears.

“Ok then. I can meet you at the grocer tomorrow if that works. What time is good for you?

“Ok. Yes. Tomorrow at ten. Sounds good.”

The woman sounds young. Hopefully she’d do.

Kelly returns to watching Katie sing in her second-grade play. Remembers the challenge of designing and making the tin girl costume. Rupert falls asleep at her feet.

In the morning Kelly arrives early and greets Barbara and a middle age man. Exchanges nods and smiles. “And which one of you is the manager?”

They laugh.

“Fred’s the manager.”

“Nice to meet you, Fred. I’m Kelly Bristol. Plan on staying at my house for a while so I might become a regular here.”

“Oh ok.” They nod back, but neither seems to recognize her name.

“I’ll be interviewing someone about a job at my house. I hope you don’t mind if I use your space. I didn’t bring the dog today.”

The man blinks.

“I’ll buy coffee,” Kelly says.

“Oh yes. That’d be ok.”

Grace is older than Kelly expected. Looks around thirty. 

“So have you experience cleaning houses?’

“I clean my own house,” Grace answers.

“Well my place is a good size. Not like cleaning a small apartment or something.”

The woman shrugs. “I’m sure I can do it.”

“You brought references.”

The woman passes a lose leaf sheet with neatly written names.

“Ok. I’ll give them a call and let you know.”

Grace opens her mouth as though to argue, but only says, “Ok, thanks.”

After she left, Kelly takes a sip of coffee and looks at Fred. “Do you know anything about Grace.”

“I wouldn’t hire her.”

“Why?”

“She’s had some trouble. It’s her boyfriend that’s gone missing.”

“I shouldn’t hire her because her boyfriend’s missing?” Kelly locks his eyes.

“I think he was into bad shit,” Barbara answers. “Drugs or something.”

“Ok. Thanks.” Kelly finishes her coffee and sets a dollar on the table. Outside snow is shrinking. The land drying.

Kelly calls Grace’s reference, a social worker. “I’m thinking of hiring Grace Thatch for general housekeeping. She gave me your name as a reference. Do you think she’d be someone I could count on for housekeeping duties.”

“Grace means well,” he answers.

“What does that mean. She will or won’t murder me in my sleep.”

Nervous laughter. “I just mean she’s had some issues.”

“I heard about her boyfriend.”

“Yeah that issue.”

“If he’s trouble, why does she keep going back to him?”

Sigh. “I think she just doesn’t value herself not to go back.”

“Ok. How likely am I to have problems if I hire her.”

“Not with her. Only you have to be careful not to be too harsh. She’s overly sensitive to criticism. But I imagine she’ll try her best if you hire her.”

“Hard to ask for more than a person’s best,” Kelly says. “I mean housekeeping’s not rocket science. If she tries, she ought to be able to do ok.”

“Yeah. That’s right.”

“You’re not much of an enthusiastic reference, you know.” But he is the name Grace gave.

“Grace should be alright. If you give her a chance, she should try her best.”

“Will she show up on time? Is she reliable?”

“It’s house cleaning. Does it really matter if she’s five minutes late. And you could really help her out. She needs someone to take chance on her.”

“Ok, thanks.”

Kelly tries to think. Upstairs she sits at the piano and strikes familiar keys until relaxing. Maybe she should hire Grace. She did want to help people.

Bones.

The sky is bright when Kelly lets Rupert out the next morning. The air warm enough that she stays out to watch him scamper across the winter browned lawn. Underneath the brown, she sees a green tinge. Maybe they can do the cliffs.

She puts on a warm jacket and her oldest sneakers, and they drive to the mastodon sign and through the park gates. With enthusiasm, Rupert bound from the car. Kelly got out more carefully. The path looks wide enough, especially at the parking lot, but the ground is wet. Feeling her shoes squish in the mud, Kelly is glad she wore her oldest shoes.

With only trees and squirrels around, she lets Rupert off leash to trot beside her. He seems to smile as he dashes about running circles around her. Her steps are slower. Halting. The further they walk, the steeper the decline and thicker the mud. It is nice to see Rupert run so happily, but they can’t go far. The wet rocks are slippery under her feet.

What is she doing? Why trek through a bog with only Rupert? Miniature schnauzers are not guard or hiking dogs. 

Her hands grasp. Clinging to birch trees like hand rails, Kelly tests each step before settling her weight into mud that soak through her sneakers. They’ll both need a bath when finished.

Though not more than fifteen minutes, it’s too far.

“Rupert. Come on. We’re going back.”

She expects him run to her as he’d been racing in circles. Instead, he whines.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

This time he growls.

Rupert never growled. What has he gotten into. Maybe she should have kept him on-leash.

Kelly staggers through the birch to where Rupert crouches on what looks like a bundle of clothes. Ragged blue pieces. Likely rags, there since at last fall.

“Rupert.”

Catching the small dog, Kelly sticks her fingers under the leather at his neck. Ignoring his whimpering, she sets him under her arm and looks down. Was that a face. Mat of hair. Lopsided head. Oh my God. Kelly staggered a few steps back, but managed to keep her balance.

Not thinking she needed her cell phone, it is in her purse in the car.

Fifteen minutes is a long hike up a muddy hill, especially when racing from a dead body.

When she reaches her Miata, her heart is aching. Struggling to control her panting, she yanks opens her door and grabs her phone. Dialing. Nature of your emergency? “Yes, this is Kelly Bristol.”

“The mayor?”

“Well, I was. But not since the last election. But that’s not why I’m calling. I’m out at Hillsborough Bluff. Was walking my dog. Someone recommended the cliffs. Brought my dog here. We found something. Looks like a dead body.”

“Can you give me your exact location?”

“From the Hillsborough market go straight. Follow the main street about a mile and a half. And there’s a sign from for cliffs. A fossil on the sign.”

“Yes. Fine. I’ll wait.”

When the police arrive, Kelly leads them to the rough clothes. Down to the lost body. Frozen all winter.

She goes back to her house and gives Rupert a bath and takes a long hot shower.