Broken Things to Mend Read online

  “Silas, dear, could you call your aunt and let me speak to her?”

  Silas pulled out his phone and dialed his aunt. “Hi, Aunt Nancy. P-Pearl needs to talk to you.”

  “Nancy, would you mind going to the bus stop for me? In about fifteen minutes the Greyhound will get there and they have a suitcase that belongs to a girl who is no longer on the bus. She was supposed to get off at Sisters but missed the connection at Bend. I think they’ll leave it with you if you tell them she’s your grand-daughter. We’ll be along shortly and we’ll pick it up at your house.”

  Aunt Nancy must have agreed because Pearl handed Silas the phone. “Silas, this is Celia. She missed the bus to Sisters. We’re going to give her a ride.”

  “I thought you were here for a p-package, not a p-p—” Silas’s lips pursed tightly as the word caught in his mouth. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Person,” he finally said.

  Pearl turned away as if she hadn’t heard him. “Celia, we’ll take you to Sisters, and Silas’s aunt is picking up your bag.”

  It was difficult to read the girl’s expression. There was something of relief there, but also a wariness, like she didn’t know whether she should accept the help Pearl was offering.

  “Come on, dear. How else will you get to where you’re going?”

  Celia shrugged off her backpack and put it on the back seat, then slid in beside it. Pearl climbed in beside Silas and buckled her seatbelt. “Shall we?” she asked and Silas put the car in gear.

  The drive to Sisters was silent. Silas wished he had turned on the radio while he waited in the parking lot so it would have been on. Now it felt like turning it on would magnify the awkwardness of the quiet, reminding them all that no one had anything to say. He glanced at the girl in the rearview mirror, careful so she wouldn’t see him looking at her. He needn’t have worried. She stared out the window the entire trip. This made it easier to inspect her, and he found his eyes drawn toward her face repeatedly.

  The girl had pretty features—smooth skin, large blue eyes, and shiny brown hair. Everything about her looked young except her eyes. There was something about the far-off gaze that spoke of loss and sadness and something else. Silas wasn’t sure what it was, but her eyes triggered something inside him and he wanted to know what lived behind their sorrow.

  Silas ran into Aunt Nancy’s and picked up a small, battered bag before he parked behind Home Sweet Home Bed and Breakfast. “Thank you, Silas. You’re a fine young man.” Pearl patted his arm and turned around to face Celia. “Come in with me, dear. We’ll get you all squared away.”

  Silas got out and picked up the backpack and suitcase from the back seat.

  “I can get those,” Celia said.

  “S-s-so can I,” Silas said as the blood crept up his neck to his ears.

  Celia’s eyes met his, and if he hadn’t looked quickly away in his embarrassment, he’d have realized she had looked away almost as quickly.

  Pearl watched them both then barely shook her head and clucked her tongue. These two would not be easy.

  Silas dropped the bags inside the front door and walked back out without another word. Pearl watched him go, but Celia didn’t even glance in his direction.

  Pearl leaned around the doorway into another room. “Jenny?” When no one answered, she took a few steps down the hall. “Jenny?”

  “Pearl. Sorry, I didn’t hear anyone come in.” Jenny stepped out of a room at the end of the hall, wiping her hands on the apron she wore. She was a large-boned woman, probably in her forties, with a gray-blond, no-nonsense bob. There were many men who probably envied Jenny’s height. She had to be over six feet tall, and standing next to Pearl, she looked like Goliath’s sister. “And who do we have here?” she asked.

  “This is Celia. I’m hoping you have an extra room available,” Pearl said.

  Celia shook her head. “I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can,” Pearl said to Celia, then turned to Jenny. “If no one’s in it, maybe you could put her in that pretty yellow room at the end of the hall. I think she likes yellow.”

  Celia turned to Pearl in stunned silence. How could this woman know her favorite color? And how was it possible that she had been there to rescue Celia when the bus pulled away without her? This wasn’t the kind of luck Celia was used to.

  “I don’t have any money,” Celia whispered.

  “I know.”

  “You’re in luck,” Jenny said brightly, cutting through Celia’s discomfort. “It so happens the yellow room is available. Come with me and we’ll get you all settled.”

  “Go on now,” Pearl said, gently touching her back to get her to follow Jenny. “Don’t forget your bags. You look tired. Why don’t you rest for a little while and then I’ll stop by and pick you up for dinner.” She must have seen Celia’s look of concern. “I’m treating. Don’t look so troubled. I’ve been eating alone for days and I want some company.”

  Pearl turned her back on Celia, effectively ending the conversation. It may have prevented further discussion at the moment, but Celia had some questions, and come dinner, she intended to get some answers.

  Pearl knocked on Celia’s door, and the girl opened it about a foot. She eyed Pearl with suspicion. “Are you hungry? Shall we go eat?”

  “You really don’t have to take me out to dinner. You’ve already done a lot for me.”

  “Nonsense. We must eat, so we’ll do it together. And we must talk.”

  Celia slipped sideways through the barely open door. It seemed she tried to disrupt the world around her as little as possible. She followed Pearl down the hall with quiet steps. The woman moved with ease and grace and although she was old, her hair was dark and smooth in the pretty antique comb that held it up. When they reached the sidewalk, Pearl fell into step beside Celia.

  “Do you like Mexican food?”

  Celia nodded.

  “Good. Most people expect me to eat Chinese for every meal, but I like many things. Jenny told me Rio’s is good, and we can probably find a quiet table to talk. Did you get a little nap?”

  “I was thinking.”

  “I believe you think too much and sleep too little. You look tired. How many days were you on that bus?”

  “Three.”

  “Did you sleep much?”

  Celia shook her head. “Only a little.”

  “Well then, I think we should eat and talk a bit, and then you should stay in bed until you wake up on your own. I’ll talk to Jenny about saving some breakfast for you. Maybe you’ll sleep right through to Sunday.”

  A bald man with a handlebar mustache seated them at a table in the corner. Jenny had been right. Even though the place was busy, conversations were subdued and the food looked plentiful. Celia carefully ordered, searching for the most food for the least money. She rejoiced a little when the waiter brought a bowl of chips and salsa to the table.

  Pearl sat with her hands folded in her lap and watched Celia eat. The girl was ravenous and she didn’t want to interrupt her with questions until she was comfortable and her hungry tiger tamed.

  “I think I know why you’re here,” Pearl said when only crumbs remained in the bowl of chips.

  Celia looked up, alarmed.

  “Don’t be afraid, dear. I’m your friend. I’m here to help you.”

  Celia wiped her hands on her napkin. “Why?”

  “Because you need it. You’re alone and scared, and I want to help you. I’ve been alone and scared, too, and had it not been for a kind friend, I might have been lost.”

  A wayward tear escaped Celia’s eye, and she quickly brushed it away, angry that she couldn’t control her emotions.

  “I’m glad you chose Sisters. People here are kind.”

  The waiter brought steaming plates of food. These were no ordinary tacos. They were juicy and delicious and garnished with vegetables Celia had never seen. She ate in silence while Pearl’s mouth took turns eating and talking.

  “You don’t have to tell me whe
re you came from. I can tell you’re running away from something and that’s okay. As long as you’re willing to run toward something when you see it’s good for you.” She took a bite and chewed for a moment. “There are good things for you here. I can sense these things. If you’re open to it, you’ll find happiness here. And peace. I think you would enjoy peace, yes?”

  Celia gave an almost imperceptible nod which made Pearl glad. She hoped her words would sink deep into Celia’s heart.

  “I don’t live here. Did you know that?” Pearl asked.

  Celia swallowed. “You don’t?”

  “No. I’m also a guest at the bed and breakfast. But I lived here many years ago. In a little house a few blocks south. But now I live in California. I’m here visiting for a little while. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. You’re a brave girl. I can see in your eyes that you’re afraid, but you’re here, starting new with almost nothing. That takes courage.”

  Celia was finished, but Pearl still had more than half her food. Now it was time to take what little bravery she felt and ask a few questions.

  “How did you know I needed a ride?”

  “It wasn’t hard to tell. You chased that bus, didn’t you? That was a clue.”

  “You saw that?”

  Pearl shrugged and took another bite.

  “What makes you think I’m running from something? Or that this is where I planned to come. Maybe I was going to Seattle or somewhere else. A big city would have more jobs, you know. How did you know where I was going?”

  Pearl reached across the table and patted Celia’s arm. “So many questions. Were you going to a big city?”

  Celia shook her head.

  “This is a good place for you, Celia. It’s not like where you came from.”

  “You don’t know where I came from.”

  “I know.”

  “Then how do you know this is better?” Her voice was angry.

  “I’m an old woman, and old women sometimes know things.”

  Celia wanted a better answer than that, but Pearl motioned for the waiter, and Celia knew she wouldn’t be getting any more answers. At least not tonight.

  A feeling of shame settled on Celia as they walked back to Home Sweet Home. This woman had rescued her. She had provided her a place to sleep tonight and had fed her. She had been nothing but kind and Celia had lashed out at her.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was contrite. “For dinner and my room and, well, everything.”

  “That’s better. Old Chinese women don’t like to be yelled at. We prefer to do the yelling.” She looked sternly at Celia, before her face broke into a smile. Celia couldn’t help but smile back. “You should go to bed. You have many big things ahead of you and they’ll be easier after you sleep.”

  Silas climbed into the cab of the Tigercat feller. He loved this part of his job. Anyone could drive a truck through Deschutes National Forest and pick up fees at the trailheads or drive through campgrounds to be sure campfire regulations were being obeyed. He didn’t mind those parts of the job. They allowed him to make a living without having to do much talking or interacting with people. But thinning the forest in this giant machine was his favorite part. He was one of only a handful of Oregon forest rangers who had been trained to operate all the hand controls and the foot pedals that looked more like a church organ. There was something exhilarating about sitting in the cab, the engine drowning out the outside world, and a tangled, messy clump of trees in front of you. It required finesse and skill to maneuver the long mechanical arm between the healthy trees and pull out the sick and dead ones.

  There were four others on his crew. Dan and Rusty were strapping the logs he had piled into bundles and loading them onto the back of the trucks. Emmett and Garth drove the trucks that would haul it all out.

  Silas’s crew had been sent to the West Bend part of Deschutes National Forest to thin out the dead trees and clean up any fallen debris from last winter’s heavy snowfall. Last summer had been a hard one for Central Oregon. Eleven forest fires in Deschutes alone. The more dead timber they cleared out, the less chance there would be that it would serve as tinder if there was another long, dry summer.

  Silas guided the arm of the machine, grabbed a tree, sliced it off at the ground then turned it onto its side. Then the arm guided the tree through its clutches, stripping the branches and cutting the tree in twelve foot lengths. Quite a different operation than it would have been a hundred years ago.

  This part of the West Bend forest hadn’t been thinned in a few years.

  “If a tree falls in the forest...” Rusty yelled. “What’s the rest of it?”

  “If a tree falls in the forest and no one’s there to hear it, does it make a sound?” Dan shouted.

  “Right. That’s it. I can’t ever remember those things. It’s like a joke. I always mess up the punchline.”

  Silas dropped a length of log onto the pile, sending out an explosion of bark and pine needles.

  “We’re in the forest and it’s definitely making a sound,” Rusty shouted.

  The men worked without a lot of talk as it was difficult to be heard above the machinery. It was hard work and the men sweated through their clothes in spite of the cool, March day.

  A little before lunch, Emmett drove away with the second load of the day. Garth hadn’t arrived back, so the men decided it was a good time to eat. Rusty dropped the tailgate on his truck, and he and Dan sat on it and opened their lunches. Silas turned off the Tigercat and retrieved his lunch from behind the seat of the truck.

  “Want to join us?” Dan asked.

  Silas held up a book—something about World War II—and said, “I think I’ll catch up on s-s-some reading.” He climbed back in the feller, propped his feet up on the dashboard and ate a sandwich while he read.

  “He’s a strange one,” Rusty said.

  “Has been for as long as I’ve known him.”

  “How long is that?”

  “We went to school together,” Dan said. “Clear back to grade school. He’s a loner. Doesn’t like to talk much. I don’t think he really likes people. He’d probably be a hermit if he didn’t have to make a living.”

  “Maybe it’s ’cause of his stutter. I wouldn’t want to talk either if I couldn’t get a whole sentence out.”

  “His folks died when we were kids,” Dan said around a full mouth of bologna sandwich. After he swallowed, he continued. “He never had any good friends. Only thing he did extra-curricular was play soccer. He was fast and could handle the ball real good.”

  “He looks like he’d be fast—all strong and wiry—but he looks too tall for soccer. Aren’t most soccer players short?”

  “I don’t know about that.” Dan lowered his voice a little even though no one but Rusty was close enough to hear him. “You know who Sheila Warnick is?”

  “Is she the one who works at Mountain Coffee? Looks like a supermodel or a movie star?”

  “Yeah. That’s Sheila. She asked Silas to Preference our senior year. Why, I’ll never know. She musta’ had a thing for mutes or something.”

  “Or maybe she wanted to do all the talking,” Rusty joked.

  “Well, she did do that. She tried to make it a nice date. Went to Portland for her dress, and let me tell you, that dress. Oowee. She was a knockout. Took him to Bend for a fancy dinner before they came back to the school. I think they were waiting in line for pictures, and she said something to him and he didn’t answer. She folded her arms and said, ‘If you’re not going to talk to me, I might as well have come alone.’ His face turned all red clear to his ears, but he didn’t say a word. Sheila had enough. She took him by the arm and pulled him outa there. I guess she took him home right there on the spot. I don’t think he’s ever gone on another date.”

  “Bet he reads a lot of books,” Rusty said.

  “Some of us were going to bet whether or not he’d ever get married. Or be with a woman at all. Problem was, no one thought he would, so there was no one to bet.”

/>   “Too bad ‘cause he’s an okay looking guy, I guess.”

  “Sure, but ya gotta be able to talk, right?”

  “Well, I’m not sure I’d care if Sheila talked or not.”

  Both guys laughed.

  “Sometimes I feel kinda sorry for him,” Dan said. “But mostly, I’m glad I’m not like him.”

  Celia didn’t sleep until Sunday, as Pearl had predicted. She awoke Saturday afternoon, sunshine lighting up her yellow room so it glowed. Since Pearl had been waiting for her last night so they could go to dinner, Celia had taken a quick shower. Now she bathed in the deep tub for so long she almost fell back asleep. How long had it been since she’d had a tub she could soak in? Her apartment with Cassidy had only a shower with mildew growing in the corner above her head. The last foster home she’d lived in had a tub, but it had rough, scratchy strips on the bottom, like a diving board, that rubbed her raw if she sat on it. She couldn’t remember taking a long bath since the Hundley’s.

  When she finally left her room, she found Pearl and Jenny talking in the parlor.

  “Good morning,” Jenny said. “Or I guess I should say good afternoon.”

  Pearl motioned for Celia to sit down. “I’ll bet you’re starving.”

  Jenny rose and headed for the kitchen. “I saved you some breakfast if you don’t mind eating pancakes this late in the day. I’ve got extra Pearl, if you’d care to join her.”

  “I think I will. They were quite good.”

  Several tables were set up in a blue and white room with windows along two walls. The tables were covered with white lace cloths. A giant painting of a pig filled most of another wall. It was rendered in shades of blue and pink and was quite lovely, even though it was a pig.

  Jenny made several trips between the kitchen and the table, bringing a pitcher of orange juice and plates of eggs and pancakes and bacon. The bacon seemed insensitive since they ate under the sad eyes of the pig on the wall.