Missouri in a Suitcase ~ Chapter One

Chapter One

“Eighty bottles of beer on the wall, eighty bottles of beer, take one down and pass it around, seventy-nine bottles of beer on the wall.  Seventy-nine bottles of beer…”

Looking toward the young boy sitting in the passenger seat, Lizabeth gave his knee a slight squeeze.  She hoped for a reaction, any reaction to offer her some sense that he wasn’t completely lost to the trance that had claimed the last two months of his life.

“Tommy, there’s a lot of bottles left on that wall and unless you want me to sing through every one of them, you’d better decide on where you want to have lunch.”  Her tone was prodding but she knew he ignored her.

He sat with his head turned toward the open window, staring at nothing or everything that would keep him from having to acknowledge her.

Her feelings of sympathy and helplessness overshadowed the pain that his total reticence caused.  A lonely, empty stare through lusterless eyes replaced the devilish grin and smiling blue eyes that once dominated his face.  The best she could hope for was that the move from Joplin would put enough distance between them and their past to salvage any hope in their future.

Ahead she spotted a McDonald’s sign, something that used to bring a smile to his face.  As she pulled into the parking lot, she glanced toward him, hoping to see the slightest glimmer in his eyes.  There was nothing.  She set aside every sentiment in herself trying to help him through the ordeal that robbed him of his own emotions.  Now, she couldn’t have felt like more of a failure.

“Here we go, home of Mickey D and the worlds’ greatest fries.  How about we eat inside this time?  You know what a klutz I am, I wear most of it when I eat and drive at the same time.”

When she didn’t get a response, she got out of the car and walked around to his side, thankful for the opportunity to stretch her legs.

He made no motion to get out of the car, as she stood with the door open.

“C’mon Tommy!  We’re going in this time!  I want you to try to use the bathroom while we’re here.”  Nothing irritated her more than having to be forceful with him but his current state demanded it.

He didn’t protest further as he swung his legs out, never letting go of the object he had clung to since leaving Missouri.

Her first instinct was to tell him to leave the suitcase in the car.  He had held on to it like a lifeline since losing his father two months ago and trying to separate him from it was one argument she had not been able to win.

As they entered, she saw several patrons turn in their direction and murmur between themselves.  She knew how out-of-place he looked toting the ragged, yellow suitcase, so she did her best to ignore them and focus her attention on ordering.

“Well kiddo, what’s it gonna be?  Name your poison.”

She felt an element of ridiculousness when she asked him something—knowing he wouldn’t answer—but she tried to carry on as if everything were still normal.

“Chicken McNuggets or a Big Mac?”  When he didn’t answer, she ordered for him, knowing he would eat whatever she ordered rather than decide for himself.

 

Once they had finished the meals, which they ate in silence, they used the restrooms and made their way back to the car.  Tommy got in the back seat this time.  She assumed he would be getting tired, as they were half way through Kansas now and he had stayed awake the entire time.  Personally, she was grateful to have this time for introspection.  When he was awake and bored, she spent her time trying to connect with him, to urge a response of any type.  Many mental and emotional health professionals had seen him without much success.  She had no reason to think she could have more affect than they had, yet she had a better reason to be determined—he was her brother and she refused to let him die within himself.

Once they were back on Route 70, she turned the radio on low enough so as not to awaken him in the back seat.  Although she didn’t understand why, music was something that made him erratic in his present condition.

Driving down the long, lonely, straight stretch of highway, she seemed to be lost in her own trance, seeing the road but not able to concentrate on anything around her.  Driving through an internal fog, as her father used to call it.

As she looked in her rearview mirror to check on him, a tremor of uneasiness swept through her, caused by the sight of him lying on his side, huddled against the old suitcase.  He was small for his age and even though ten, could easily pass for eight.  He looked so innocent, so vulnerable.  His small frame used to bother him, but what he lacked in size, he more than made up for in personality.  He was able to joke his way out of most any situation, especially where his father was concerned.  She missed him so much she felt that surely her heart would break if she couldn’t get him back into the present.

She knew he wouldn’t sleep long; he never slept very long anymore.  She could only imagine what secrets his mind held captive, what the depth of his turmoil actually was and wondered what she could possibly do to help him through it.

She quickly reached for the dial of the radio when she saw his head pop into her mirror.

“I hope you slept well.  I hate to tell you but you missed two hot air balloons while you were napping.  If I had a camera handy, I would have gotten you a picture.”

Looking in the mirror, she could see he was looking out the windows toward the sky in the hopes of seeing them.  She was beginning to learn that even though he didn’t respond in words, he did respond in his own way, when the urge struck him.

Not finding the balloons, he sat back in the seat, grasping the suitcase with both hands. 

It was an old, pale yellow case made from what appeared to be some type of thick cardboard material, bound together with dark-brown strips and having a brown plastic handle.

Lizabeth had never seen it before the day of their father’s death and had no idea what could be in it that Tommy found valuable enough as to guard it with his life.  He couldn’t tell her and he refused to part with it long enough for her to get a look at its contents.

“Tommy, why don’t you come up here with me?  I’ll play find-that-car with you.”

This was the only activity he was willing to join in.  She would pick a type of car and he would have to spot one within a given time.  If he found one, she would then have to make some sort of bizarre face at a passerby and although it wasn’t enough to make him smile, she could see a slight reaction in his eyes.

As he climbed over the seat, he managed to kick her and the rearview mirror, the suitcase making the transition more difficult.

Once settled, she feigned serious thought.  She pretended to be trying to stump him, when in actuality she usually picked something common.  Her head cocked to one side and a finger under her chin, she looked at him with a mischievous smile.

“I’ve got one.  How about a Chevy Blazer with a tire on the back door.  Oh, and it has to be black.”

Instinctively he began searching among the other vehicles that shared the highway with them.

“I’ve got you on this one; you’ve only got three minutes left.”  She knew that when she teased him he would become just a little more responsive.  His inner struggles hadn’t completely taken over his competitive nature.

He took one hand off the suitcase long enough to point out a vehicle which matched her request and lowered his hand immediately.  He focused on her, waiting to see what unusual face she would make and who would be the recipient.

She slapped her leg and pretended to be surprised that he had won.

“You got me again!  You’re too good at this game; we’ll have to think of something that I can win once in a while.”

She turned to look out the window in search of her victim and then turned back to him with a smile.  Only having one hand free she was limited as to what she could do.  She pulled the skin underneath her eyes down with two fingers and pushed her nose up while sticking her tongue out.  Not seeing any disappointment on his face, she knew this was acceptable and turned to face the car that was passing her on the left.  The woman in the passenger seat looked over and offered the most disgusted expression, causing Tommy to give a slight slap on his case and a short nod of the head.

‘One for me’, she thought as she gave him a smile.

“Tommy, can I ask you something?”  She had tried this tactic several times before without success but was quickly running out of ideas, willing to try anything to break through.

“I know that you feel like you don’t want to talk to me and I understand that.  I wish I didn’t have to talk sometimes too but then how would anyone know what we wanted to eat?”  Although this was to be a serious conversation, she had to do her best to keep him from seeing that.

“Well, I had an idea—that is—if you’re up to it.”

She looked to him for a response of any type in his eyes, which seemed to be the only way she had to read him.  He didn’t turn back toward the window, so she decided to continue.

“How about if I ask you questions and you answer.  You don’t have to talk, I’ll only ask yes or no questions and you can shake your head or nod.”  Once again, she directed her attention to him, anticipating a response, any kind of response.  He made a half-notion to look at her, not meeting her gaze and again she felt it safe to continue.

She gave her first question a moment of thought, not wanting to start out with anything that would alienate him.  She felt it best to keep it simple and work up to a more serious level of questioning.

“Ok, do I get the bigger bedroom in the new house?”

She sat patiently awaiting any movement of his head.  Just as she thought he wasn’t going to participate, she trembled with elation as she noticed the faintest shake of his head.

“Oh, I don’t know about that!  We may have to fight this one out!”  She spoke with a teasing tone in her voice, hoping that it would lighten him up.

Other than pointing, she hadn’t been able to get him to acknowledge her existence for months and now, he had actually answered a question.  Although only a barely perceptible shake of the head, it was an answer nonetheless.

She thought another moment, not wanting to push him too fast.

“Do you want to know a secret?”

Without hesitation, he nodded his head with a little more enthusiasm than his shake came with.

“I broke up with Oliver because you didn’t like him.”

Although that was an unequivocal lie, she was hoping to find a beginning where she could start building on his trust.

With her last remark, he looked directly at her.  She was unable to read any expression on his face, but knew it had had an effect on him.

“Really, I knew how much you didn’t like him and since you’re a pretty good judge of character, I went with your instincts.  Besides, even I realized what a jerk he was.”

For a brief moment, she saw him release the tight grip he kept on the suitcase and run his hands over the top of it.  When they returned to the clutching position they had been in, he turned toward the window and resumed his now characteristic vacant stare.

Instinct told her that now was the time to stop this question and answer session.  His plaintive expression indicated that he had slipped back into his trance.  She found herself wishing all too often that she could exchange her journalism degree for one in psychology.

 

They had left at two o’clock in the morning so that they would arrive in Muddy Creek before sundown that evening, without having to spend a night in a motel.  Tommy had been so withdrawn lately, she didn’t know how he would handle being in a strange place.  Their new home in Colorado would be unfamiliar to him but by the time they arrived, the movers should have their things there and she hoped it would give him a sense of security and make for an easier transition from their old home.

The last few hours of their trip were silent ones.  Between the long drive and trying to display a constantly buoyant demeanor for Tommy’s sake, she felt emotionally depleted.

Straightening herself in the now uncomfortable seat and pushing loose tendrils of hair from her face, she stretched her back while wrenching her head, trying to shake off the lethargic feeling that haunted her for the last fifty miles.  She wasn’t accustomed to sitting in one position for this many hours and was certain that straightening would cause discomfort when the time to move did arrive.

They were well past Denver now and would be reaching their destination shortly, or at least she hoped.  It had been a long time since she had been to Colorado and she couldn’t recall if Tommy had ever been here.  Their grandparents had once occupied the home that she and Tommy were moving into, but that was many years ago and she hadn’t been back to it since.  When she expressed an interest in moving, her uncle suggested they take the house over.  She wished she had the opportunity to see it first, but time and distance had not permitted that.  In retrospect, she wished she had stayed with the movers instead of letting them go ahead, things looked much different in the mountains and she began to suffer from the first real reservations about getting lost.

“Well kiddo, looks like we’re almost there.  Are you starting to get excited?  I know I am!”

His stare at the road ahead never faltered.  She was anxious to get to their destination as much to stretch as to escape the silence that had overshadowed the trip.

“You’re going to like it here Tommy.  I used to come up to visit Gram and Gramps when I was little and I can remember not wanting to go home when the summer was over.  They say fly-fishing is real big here,” pausing to see if he was paying attention she added, “Although, I find it hard to believe that anyone would want to fish for flies!”

His head remained locked in its forward position but she saw his eyes turn in her direction.  Before the accident, he would have come off with something like, ‘girls sure are dumb’, and then would have proceeded to tell all of his friends as they compared who had the most stupid sister, a favorite game of all young boys.  Now, as if those days were no more than a faint memory, he sat in his withdrawn state obviously wishing she would leave him alone.

 

Seeing her first sign for Steamboat Springs, she knew she couldn’t be very lost, if at all.  Muddy Creek wasn’t too far from there and she was thankful to be able to put an end to this long, oppressive trip.

Making the last turn of their journey, she realized how idyllic the setting that surrounded them was.  Mountains on all sides encompassed them, complete with large trees that acted as a canopy over the road they were traveling.  She was in awe of the beauty surrounding them and thankful for the brief opportunity to escape her impeding thoughts.

“It’s right up the road, our new home that is.  It’s getting late so you may want to wait until tomorrow to look around outside but I’ll bet you’ll be able to find something to occupy yourself with all day out there.”

Although he continued to gaze out the front window, she could see that his blank stare was now one of anticipation.  It may have been small, but there was a light, ever so slight shining in his eyes.

As she pulled into the driveway, and came to a stop, she inwardly wished she could put the car in reverse and speed away, not looking back.  She was gripping the wheel so hard her knuckles were turning white.  The most pervasive feeling of despair overcame her and she said, “Where’s the house,” as no more than a hushed whisper.  With that, Tommy flung his door open and scurried to what was visible of the front porch, in the dim evening light.

Author's Note

I'm new to this site, please forgive any formatting discrepancies.

Reviews

[grady sedgwick]

great job of clearly communicating what is going on in the first section. you dropped the reader into an emotional situation between two people shortly after a trauma. great writing.

"Driving down the long, lonely, straight stretch of highway, she seemed..." ....... consider cutting "lonely" . it's too easy and overused. yes it adds a bit of alliteration, but sort of shows the hand of the author trying too hard imo.

the car game scene is really well done!

“I broke up with Oliver because you didn’t like him.”......... doing a great job of holding the reader's attention.

i like the way you transitioned right at the end and focused on her, giving the reader some insight into what she is dealing with.

nice work here. a smooth practiced hand.

grady

[Alexandre Olivier]

More is sometimes said by not stating it. You clearly get this concept in writing. Your character development is great.

This feels like a short story to me because of the close-up focus on characters. Consider trimming down space by leaving in the most gripping parts (to me that would be the car-game scene). That scene alone gives great character development.

I'm excited to see plot propel the story; the car ride gives an opportunity to see the characters interact close up ; seeing the characters then react to different plot situations will really bring the story alive.

Very steadily written. Nice!

[Forest Green]

This chapter demonstrates wonderful talent. Your focus and imagination is delightful.
Might be able to slim the text down about 35% which would move the story faster. It is a challenge worth pursuing and I encourage your continued efforts...!

[Global Norskie]

Wow. This is not usually the type of book I read, but I was captured from beginning to end. Amazingly written. Perfect grammar, structure, and emotional content. I feel inspired. Well done!

[LSS]

This is another one of the best written stories I've read at the Cafe. It was riveting from the opening idea, that was clearly defined but still enticing enough to prompt the reader to continue; "completely lost to the trance". It wasn't just the opening, but as the story unfolded its sense of urgency demanded the reader - 'read on! Surely there's hope.' And as a good writer allows the reader a glimpse at a final solution in order to entrap them into the drama, so you too captured me; "she noticed the faintest shake of his head."
I hope you've finished the story here on the Cafe, as I'm sure I'll have to finish it. You've snagged, hooked, and clinched me. I try to write humorous shorts from my past, but have never tried a story on its own, and I envy you; your story and your talent. Thank you.

[Tommy]

I like your writer's voice; your writing is easy to follow and I am interested to read on. You have successfully peeked my interest.
RLG,
Tommy

[Ross]

Your writing is interesting and I know you will keep it up. Hope you will add me as a friend so I can follow your progress...

[Steve]

hey...nice job here. I was reading with real anticipation. You make sure to not talk down to your readers, but also to leave us wanting to know more about what happened to this young boy.