The Jollies

I remember when I was younger, watching the police take my neighbor out in front of her kids. I didn’t quite understand why at the time. All my heart felt was hate for the police as I watched my friends crying and making a scene in front of their house. It seemed like something out of a movie at the time.

Men in black suits and aviator shades talked amongst themselves in her driveway. The size of his cellphone astonished me at the time; it was maybe the second one I had ever seen.

Ms. Harrisburg was the nicest person I had ever met. She would have the sweetest peach cobblers every Sunday after church. I’d had sleepovers at their house. My first kiss came from Suzy Harrisburg, right under the apple tree. We carved our names into it that day.

Ms. Harrisburg had ten children, and all were wonderful people. I couldn’t imagine what she could have done to cause that to happen to her. My mind instantly thought it was some sort of mistake. She and my mother would be laughing about it over gin rummy later tonight.

When our doorbell rang a few hours later, I jumped up and ran to it, but my parents were already there. I slowly crept down the stairs, expecting to see Ms. Harrisburg. It was Johnny Harrisburg, though, the eldest of the bunch and the captain of the ship, as I called him.

Johnny looked blue in the face, as if someone had told him Yella was dead. He walked inside like the life had been drained out of him. Once our eyes connected, mine mistakenly found my mother’s, and hers said, “Get to your room right now.” I knew that look all too well. I turned and pretended to go up the steps. My feet turned into feathers when it was time to creep back down the steps.

From the banister, it was hard to hear what Johnny was saying. I pressed my body against the wall like a fly on the wall, inching closer to the kitchen as if I were a marine deep in enemy territory. My mother was handing him a tissue to wipe his face. I cleared my eyes to make sure they weren’t playing tricks on me, because Johnny couldn’t be crying; he was the toughest kid in town.

“They just took her and haven’t told us anything,” Johnny said. “My sisters are so scared, and I’m not sure what to do.”

“Well, don’t you worry. I’m sure it’s some kind of mix-up. Your mom will be home by tonight, and you guys will be laughing about it. As for dinner tonight, I’ll come over and make you guys dinner. I’m sure your mother will be happy to have food ready when she comes home.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Thompson. You don’t know what this means to us. I’ll head home and start cleaning up and getting the kitchen ready for you. I’m sure my sisters will help in any way they can,” Johnny said, getting up from the table with a smile and a look of relief in his eyes.

My mom stood up to give him a hug and instantly noticed me. Her cold stare sent a chill up my spine. I quickly crept back and up the stairs before Johnny could see I was eavesdropping. Once he left, my mother called me down using my full name. That’s when I knew how deep in trouble I was.

With the most innocent voice I could muster, I slinked down the steps and into the kitchen. Her eyes were stern but reflected worry. This wasn’t as simple as she had told Johnny, and it showed.

“You heard what happened, so go clean up and help me carry some things to take over to the Harrisburg house. We’ll be eating dinner there. I’ll call your father and let him know,” my mother said.

Without hesitation, my feet were at the steps, heading toward the bathroom. My mother was the nicer of my parents but still not someone to upset. Once my full name was called, I knew it would be pins and needles for me the rest of the night.

Detective Ramos sat across from me with a calm demeanor. A thick yellow folder sat between us that he hadn’t opened yet. He offered me takeout options and drinks from the vending machine, all while avoiding my questions and passively telling me to calm down.

We’d known each other since junior high. In our little town, everybody knew everybody. His wife visited my shop weekly, and his kids loved my cakes and treats. All my reminiscing and pleading fell on deaf ears, though. We both knew why I was here, but I still had to play my innocent role.

At this point, it was the only way I would get out and get back to my jollies. His eyes burned through me, searching for something. The man sitting across from me was no longer my old friend. He was Detective Arthur Ramos, the iron ass of Springs Valley Police Department.

Arthur played by the rules and went by the book. He didn’t cut corners and never turned a blind eye. It was one of his honorable qualities, but at this moment, I wished it wasn’t him. His face said it all—he was feeling the same. Of all the criminals in town, it should have been anyone but me.

“Laura, I can help you if you help me,” Ramos said, finally breaking the silence. “Think of your kids and what they’ll go through.”

“I’ve been here for over an hour, haven’t been told what I’m being charged with or why I was taken out of my house on a Sunday afternoon. Do I need to get a lawyer, Arthur?”

“You might need one to get out of this.”

The door to the interview room opened, and a man I’d never seen before walked in. His tightly knit black suit told me he was a federal agent. This had gotten bigger than just the county. I began to feel uneasy in my chair as he walked over to the table with a fresh Coke in his hand.

“Mrs. Harrisburg, I’m Special Agent Davidson, and I’ve been assigned to your case. I apologize for keeping you waiting. I asked the good detective here not to say or do anything until I could address you first. Are you thirsty?”

“No. I’m upset and annoyed that I’ve been dragged away from my family like a criminal and not told why. I have rights, just like every other citizen in this country.”

Agent Davidson acknowledged my pleas and assured me that if it was a mix-up, I would be home with my kids soon enough. He slid over the folder Arthur had in front of him and opened it up. After waiting all this time, when I saw what it contained, my stomach began to churn.

He unclipped one picture from the stack and slid it in front of me very slowly. I could feel his eyes watching me as it came to my side of the table.

“Is this about Daniel?! I haven’t seen him in years. I have nothing to do with that scumbag. If this is what all this is about, I couldn’t tell you anything more than that he left without a word when our son was five.” Holding my composure, I looked stone-faced at both of them.

The anger I held for him was genuine, and I could feel my blood boiling just looking at his face after so many years. The picture was of him in his younger years. That smirk on his face made me sick to see again. Of all my children’s fathers, I hated him the most.

I was about thirteen the first time my parents took me to the fair. It was the most marvelous thing I’d ever seen. My father and I went on every ride while my mother looked on with disapproval. She always hated me, and I never understood why. My father, though, gave me all the love I could ever ask for. Papa was my best friend and guardian from my mother’s cruel ways.

The memory almost seems like it was yesterday, even though it happened over twenty years ago. I could still feel the shiny penny in my hand that my father gave me to go into the gypsy’s tent.

As I walked up, it seemed as if the eye designed on the top of her cart looked through my soul. It creeped me out, but I couldn’t stop myself from walking toward it. My knees felt weak the closer I got to the tent, and my heart pounded as if it would come out of my chest. Looking back at my dad, his face gave me the courage to go on.

Entering the tent, the smell of incense hit my nose. It pulled me in toward this strange woman sitting behind a crystal ball. Her smile made my stomach churn, and I wanted to turn around.

“Come, child, don’t be afraid. I know what you want to know. No one will hurt you in here. Sit, child,” she said as she smoked from a chrome cigarette holder.

I did as she asked and sat down. The chair was much higher than me, and it took a hop to get seated. She held her hand out for mine, and I cautiously obliged. Her fingers were soft yet calloused. I could feel the sharpness of her nails as she ran them over my palm.

“Hmmmm, I see a very prosperous and misfortunate future for you. A blessing of a multitude of children will befall you, but death will come to some. Your love life will be filled with variety, passion, and heartbreak. Many lovers will fill your bed over the years to come. Sadly, though, I see you will end up in a prison or mental institution. Your future looks as promising as it does dark. Hold on to your morals and kind nature. The path you will walk is going to be tainted by the unfortunate but necessary decisions you will have to make.”