She does not see her daughters or her husband in the shadows. It might be because she’s finally gotten some sleep. It might be because this is not a scene they would ever be part of. Although she remembers herself as a teenager, out late like this. Maybe Ginny will be here soon.
Eventually Marion does find the park, but she cannot go in. She cannot enter parks at night alone; her upbringing won’t let her. She sits on the concrete border. The tea is too spicy but smells nice, so she removes the lid and sets the cup next to her. She opens her bag of chips and enjoys a fistful. The real Coke afterward is so sugary it coats her teeth, but it rinses away the sour-cream chemicals. She scrapes at her lotto tickets with her thumbnail and looks for a win. She imagines winning.
Action
Jane is confused by the disruption of another morning with her mother not there. She must be reminded by her father that her mother is with Shelley. “She’ll be back soon,” he says with his back to her. She misses another school bus pickup, and so her sister must take her on the subway again. She doesn’t want to go to school, she wants to go back home, she wants her mother, but Ginny insists they get on the train when it arrives. Ginny pushes her onto the car and tells her to grow up.
“I don’t know when Mom is coming back, but it’s not soon. You better get used to it.”
Jane wants to cry so she pretends to cry, and Ginny squeezes the soft part of her arm. This makes Jane cry for real, and no pinching will stop her. She cries loud and hard, and several passengers watch. Ginny notices the looks and Jane does too, but she doesn’t care. It seems valid to have an audience. After all, her mother is gone and no one has said when she’s coming back. This is terrible, and when terrible things happen, other people should know. They should pity. They should grieve.
When a skinny woman leans over and asks the two girls if anything is wrong, Ginny says no. Jane says, “That is a lie.”
The skinny woman makes a face but takes out a copy of The New Yorker. Instead of reading the magazine, the woman watches the Palm girls like a babysitter.
Ginny is sick of being watched all the time and blames Jane. She grips Jane’s hand the whole walk to school, not in a protective way but because she needs her sister to walk faster. The Palm girls can’t be late again. Ginny says, “Retard, come on.” Jane twists herself out of Ginny’s grasp and walks in a huff ten paces in front of her sister, her arms swinging like mad. Ginny jogs a little to catch up with her, so Jane walks another ten paces in front. Jane is punishing her sister. She should not be treated this way by Ginny.
When it comes time to cross the street, Ginny runs to Jane, takes her by the arm with such a grip that Jane can’t escape it. Ginny pulls her across the street, Jane grunting in anger. When Ginny lets go, Jane takes off for the school. She runs in, is admonished by the hall master, but is undaunted. She is going to find her teacher. She’s going to tell.
“Ginny says that our mother has abandoned us.”
This gets the attention and concern of the third-grade teacher, even though she is busy helping the class deposit their lunchboxes in their cubbies. Jane is taken to the cloakroom for privacy.
“Don’t lie to me, Jane. Lying isn’t a nice thing to do.”
“I’m not lying. Mom is on a train, but she left us at CVS all alone. Daddy says that she is visiting her friend, but Ginny says she’s never coming back. Can I go home sick?”
The third-grade teacher has her hand over her mouth and looks beyond Jane at the coats for a solution. This is a correct reaction, Jane feels. Jane is led away from the cloakroom to an office with only grown-ups, and this pleases her. This is not a childish problem. This is important! she had wanted to tell Ginny. Do not tell me that I am not important!
Jane is told to sit on the rug, and she does, cross-legged. There are three adults on the rug with her, looming large. One wears a long pleated skirt and her glasses on a chain, and the glasses rest on her large breasts as if the breasts are a shelf. The way she sits on the rug seems uncomfortable, her legs swung to the left; she leans heavily on her right hand, and the flesh is getting pink around her wrist.
The second adult is Jane’s teacher and she sits cross-legged like Jane. She has one ear pierced and wears one long earring all the time. Jane likes to sit in her lap and wishes she could sit in her lap right now, but when she tried, she was settled elsewhere by the woman in the long skirt. For some reason, this is not the right time to sit in her teacher’s lap.
The other adult is a man in a suit who does not seem happy at all to be sitting on the floor. He has gray hair that does not cover his head. He does not remind her of her father, or of any of the adult men she knows. The adult men she knows like to perform for her, speak to her in funny voices, and usually encourage her to perform right back. These are the friends of her father and her mother, and she has received only encouragement from them. This man in front of her is distracted. She has not pleased him in any manner so far, and feels she needs to. She remembers him now: he’s her mother’s boss, the one who speaks at the winter celebrations and the raffles.
“So you said your mommy left?” the woman with the glasses and the breasts says.
Jane confirms.
“When did your mommy leave?”
“Not yesterday, but…”
“Two days ago. She took Jane out of class,” the teacher says to the man on the floor.
“Did your mommy say where she was going?”
Jane shakes her head again.
“Eugene, may I speak to you outside?” the teacher says to the man.
“One minute. Jane, pay attention. Did your mother say where she was going?”
Jane looks out the window. They are in the basement, but some sunshine beams through the grate, and she hears a pigeon making its noise. As an adult, she will associate this school with her mother’s embezzlement and with the throaty call of pigeons.
Jane understands that she is being interrogated. The man adjusts his tie and looks at her without kindness. She looks at her teacher and then back at the man. Her teacher is concerned for her; the man is just concerned. The man is not trying to return Jane’s mother to her. Jane thinks of the game she played in the backyard with her sister, and appreciates her sister’s instinct for secrecy. The Palm girls have something to hide.
“I’d like to see my sister, please.”
“Her sister is in the seventh grade.”
“She’s in class right now, honey,” the child therapist says, for that is what she is, the woman with the breasts. She is meant to give Jane a sense of security and has done precisely the opposite.
“I don’t care. I won’t say one word without her. I need Ginny.”
The man gets onto all fours, and Jane thinks he’s about to lunge at her, but he is just trying to find his way up off the rug. His back seems to be giving him some trouble, he cannot lift himself upright, and so Jane is in an excellent position to stare down her interrogator, finally eye to eye.
Recovery