Peter Grist - Flashback

She gently took his hand, pleasantly surprising and immediately disarming him.

“It might upset him some, but if we can find his daughter for him I think he will understand don’t you? Come on”. She leaned across, gave him a peck on the cheek then opened her door and stepped out. Dazed by the affection Ed followed, the car alarm chirping twice as he locked the doors and followed Linda past the old faded yellow pick-up to Buster’s front door. By the time Ed had stepped onto the shaded porch Linda had already rung the bell. Deep inside the house, Ed could hear the electronic chimes of Beethoven’s 5th Symphony fade away. Half a minute went by in what seemed like an eternity to Ed. The smallest movement behind curtains confirmed that someone was home. Finally, the door opened.

Buster’s massive body filled the opening, causing a greater obstacle than the wood door. He was dressed exactly how Ed had seen him at the gas station, in a light but grease-free t-shirt and dungarees. He looked at Linda then to Ed and slowly back to Linda. His deep baritone voice rumbled out, “Hello Miss Linda, how are you today?”

“Hello Buster, I’m fine”. She turned to Ed.

“This is Ed Saunders, a friend of mine”.

The two men nodded at each other. Buster broke out in a warming smile, “I think we already met maybe, full tank of regular gas”.

Ed returned the smile. “Yes, that’s right.”

Linda spoke again. “Buster, can we come in? We want to ask you something and it’s kinda delicate.”

The smile went as fast as it appeared.

“I knows why you here Miss Linda” he slowly drawled, “I been ‘specting you.”

The visitors both looked surprised. He nodded to himself as if making up his mind.

“You better both come in outta that sun.” He turned and led them into the house. The house was cool a dark. He took them into the room to the left of the front door where Ed had seen the curtains twitch. The carpeted room was homely, with old but well cared for furniture. A two-seat sofa and armchair had matching floral print covers while the dark brown coffee table that separated them carried the signs of many a spilt drink, the only occupant now being a silver TV remote. In the corner was a relatively modern TV that matched the remote from the table that sat on a black metal stand. An old John Wayne western film was showing but the sound was muted. In front of that sat the largest recliner Ed had ever seen. He knew that you could get out-size clothes, but he had never thought about out-size furniture before. An old TV ad popped into his head, and he wondered how many Naugas had given up their hides in the making of that one chair. Hard to accept that people once believed that the PVC infused knit fabric had really come from an animal called a Nauga. A series of ads had suggested that Naugas gladly gave up their pelts as they shed skin much like a snake so that no animals were killed in the making of the leather replacement. Few people realised that the truth was much more mundane. Named after the town where it was first produced, Naugahyde was first made by Uniroyal in 1936 at a factory in Naugatuck, Connecticut. A grim smile twitched briefly across the salesman’s features. He continued his brief inventory of Buster’s furniture. Against the back wall sat a wooden writing desk crowded with family photos of Buster and his wife, and of course, pictures of Grace Benjamin. Ed walked over to the desk and picked up a picture of Grace. Although the photo was obviously dated, it still had vibrant colours and was a close-up of the little girl’s face and torso. She was dressed in a yellow flowery dress that complimented her dark skin. The way she was hugging a dolly close to her chest stirred something in Ed’s mind but he willingly let it go.

“Folks have been talking, saying you been askin’ bout my Gracie”. Buster said it as a fact, not a question. Linda looked at Buster with sadness in her eyes.

“Can we sit down? I think you are going to want to hear what we have to say.”

“Sure you can Miss Linda, please” he waved to the two-seater as he dropped heavily into the over-sized nauga-covered chair.

He swivelled it around so he could face the couple. Ed joined Linda on the settee, cleared his throat several times, trying to think of an easy way into this conversation. Linda laid her hand on Ed’s as if to say ‘it’s okay, let me start’.

“Buster, I know it’s been a long time that she’s been gone but we think Ed might be able to find Grace.”

She looked into Buster’s big brown eyes but couldn’t read them at all, so she continued.

“When Mr Saunders came into town the other day something happened to him, something strange, that he cannot figure out, but he thinks it has something to do with your little girl going missing. We’ll understand if you want us to go and not hear us out, and we’ll definitely understand if you don’t believe a word we have to say, but believe me Buster, we are here because we want to help. Is that okay?”

The big man nodded but said nothing. She turned to Ed and said, “Tell him, tell Buster what happened and what you saw.”

Tentatively Ed retold the events since his arrival, missing out the detail about seeing the body but including the flashback of her abduction, the disturbance of his room, the missing newspaper report, the break-in at the library and the associated fire. Linda added information where she could. It took a long time to tell. When they had finished the room went quiet. Buster looked directly into Ed’s eyes for long moments, then without saying anything, got up and walked out of the room. After a minute Ed turned to Linda, their knees touching as they sat together on the small seat.

“What do you think; do you think he believes me?”

“I don’t know Ed, it all sounds so fantastic, and I’ve witnessed some of it, but I do hope so.”

“Yes ma’am, I believe there is something in what duh man said.”

They both jumped as Buster came back in the room carrying a tray with a jug of liquid and three tall glasses. “I shoulda offered you something to drink; I’m sorry bout dat. Lemonade?”

Without waiting for a response, he set the tray down on the coffee table, pushing aside the TV remote, then three-quarters filled all the glasses. They silently took the proffered drinks, nodding thanks to their host. Buster sat back in his chair, head down, his drink untouched on the tray.

After a few minutes of silence Buster cleared his throat and said, “I’m not a religious man,” he began, “losing Gracie helped quite a bit in that. No god would put a family through what we went through. Gracie was our whole life. Elsa, my wife, she kept her faith right to the end, but she was still a broken woman. She been gone nearly ten years herself now; doctors said it was some kinda virus, a bug or somethin’ but she died of a broken heart. I promised her I would find our child an’ lay her to rest before my time is done. I aim to keep that promise; every day I get that I ain’t workin’ I spends up in duh hills. I been all over but never found any trace. I figured if she just got lost or fell there woulda been somethin’, even just bones. What you say ‘bout seein’ her in dat truck is what I felt back then, somethin’ not right bout duh whole thing.”

“If you don’t believe in a god, why do you believe Ed’s story Buster?” asked Linda.

“Well it’s true I did use to work at the 5 and dime on Main back then, an what you said ‘bout the white kids givin’ me a hard time? Well, dat happened most days, ‘til I started workin’ out anyhows, but it ain’t that. I may not believe in God but I think there is somethin’ after… well, after we gone, but I tell you somethin’ I never told no one before today. I held Elsa’s hand when she went. It was right here in dis house. The doctor had gone, said there was nothin’ he could do so I sat with her, jus’ holdin’ her hand. Just before she went she brightened up; she said “Buster, she’s here! Our baby is here, I can see her!” Elsa smiled for the first time in many years at dat moment. She was so beautiful, the years jus fell away from her. Her eyes were open an’ lookin’ at me but she was somewheres else, with Gracie. Then the smile went and she was listenin’, listenin’ real good, and noddin’ her head. Last thing she said was “Someone gonna come Buster, gonna come help you find our baby, bring her home.” She told me what they would look like, then she smiled again, told me she loved me then closed her eyes, and she was gone.”