Come Home

there were no policemen following the van now. they had been. because Nick had tried to get a prescription he had written, being a doctor and all, 'filled' in Goodyear, Kansas. because he had long hair and wore jeans and cowboy boots and had a mustache, they wouldn't fill the prescription. tho it was for her birth control pills. which she really wanted to have. but, even tho they called and found out that he was a doctor: they still wouldn't fill it. because they said he didn't look like his picture: so maybe he was a fraud. but he did look like his picture. so they were just being mean. prejudiced because he didn't look like any doctor from Goodyear, Kansas. not at all. then too, her kids and her...they didn't look like Goodyear, Kansas, either. she was wearing a granny dress which she had sewed herself. the kids were in second-hand shorts and teeshirts and flip-flops. hopefully they wouldn't have to prove that they were married. because they were not. he was just her boyfriend. they were thinking of getting married when they got out to California. maybe. it wasn't a given. maybe not. the trip out from Chicago had had its ups and downs. she had even writen a song about it. as if that would help matters any...

Nick was a good guy. and he was a good doctor. a really good doctor. he had done some special research at John Hopkins out east and had some of the results of it named after him or something like that. he just wasn't the faithful type tho. he was all into the hippie thinking about free love. on the other hand, he sort-of wanted to get married too. he talked about it more than she did, actually. he was fond of the three kids too. although they were all under ten. which made them quite a handful. still, they were such lovable pups. really sweet kids. just full of life: busy, busy, the whole day. she was a nurse. she and Nick had delivered babies and worked at the Free Health Clinic together. they felt very modern and with-it. being a voluntary family together. with important work. in the forefront so to speak. except not here in the middle of these corn fields. here it was the town's way or the highway. they were being shown the door. or the road, to be accurate. and the turn-away was none too gentle.

the kids were thirsty and hungry. she asked the cop following them to please let them get the kids bottles of water and food from the grocery store. he said OK, only he was going to accompany her in. not with the kids or with Nick. they agreed. this is fascist, Nick growled. but not so loud the cop could hear. the grocery store was a local one. nobody in it looked like they were part of the 70s at all. they were all dressed like 1959. retro-tops. beehives on their heads. polyester pant suits. lots of make-up. the whole trip. men in the store glowered at her. women at the store actually growled at her like Nick had growled. hostile. Hostile was definitely building up on the scene. but they had to have the food and water. she was starting to feel like she was in some bad movie. where really bad things could happen. because people felt too different than her and Nick and even than the kids.

The man in one of the aisles asked her if she needed any help. his accent was familiar. for a few sentences she answered him in the same dialect or accent or whatever it was she heard and responded into...then she realized what it was: her dad's Louisiana dialect. she had heard it and responded to it all of her life. that had just happened again. it wasn't a dialect she could just mimic or pretend with. she always had to hear it first. then she could speak it fine. that's what had happened. the man looked surprised. then pleased. he talked with her some more. then he asked her why she was in Goodyear anyway. she told him they were just passing through. on the way out to California. he laughed. that explains the dress. he wasn't being rude. he was being pretty friendly. she suddenly felt a bit less paranoid. happier even. they're not being very nice to us, she told him. well, y'all look like hippies, you know, he kidded her. yeah. I know. but we're harmless, she told him. we're really OK. I can see that, he answered her. seriously. and I've got it. got what, she asked. you're from Marshall Parrish, right? she laughed. how do you know? it's my hobby. pickin' up folk's dialects. well, you're right, she told him: Monroe. Monroe, he repeated. I've been through Monroe.

it didn't take long for the word to get out that she wasn't a hippie. just a nice southern woman with nice kids. the guy was a friend, a doctor from the clinic they were going to work in out west. just driving her and the kids out to California. just friends. that's what she had told him. Nick was furious. I want to stand on my own honesty, he told her. I've got my own reasons for living I don't need the approval of a bunch of Kansas red-necks. yes you do, she told him. the kids and I are exhausted. we want to stay in a motel here overnight. then leave in the morning.
Shit, Nick said. cold. just, Shit. we were doing better when we were getting escorted right out of town...I don't want to leave like that, she told him. besides, I want my birth control pills. I've already told the lady in the pharmacy back at the store that I need them to regulate myself. she was very sympathetic. damn, Nick added. so now they'll take me in because I'm the doctor for you? if you're nice, she reminded him. if not, one of the docs in town will order them for me. damn. damn. Nick was down. defeated. it had happpened so fast. one minute they had all been pariahs. now only he was. unless he behaved himself. which he didn't want to do. he just wanted to get out of town. now. and for good.

the guy in the store was Ronnie. he was actually very nice. he taught fly fishing at the lake. he was a fireman for the town otherwise. and a football coach for the high school. he was all about the out-doors. the kids liked him. around their mom talking all lightly southern, they had acquired the accent or dialect or whatever it was. they were natural as rain. he asked if they all wanted to get up early the next day and go fishing with him. She and the kids said yes, of course... they were all in their own room at the motel. Nick's was next door. since he was just the friend taking them to California and all. she felt a bit free, being just with the kids. her pack. it felt freeing. from all of Nick's expectations and ambivalence and impatience... she hadn't been fishing in years, either. it would be fun. before they left and everything. Nick didn't want to go. this was crazy, he said. I want to get going right away in the morning. it won't hurt to go fishing for a bit, she told him. the kids need a break from all this travel. this will be a chance for them to see and do something different than just messing around in the back of the van. see a bit of America. this is a bit of it, alright, Nick growled again. he was starting to sound a little mean a lot of the time. she decided to ignore him.

the sun was barely up when Ronnie came by in his van. they piled the kids in with water and suits and towels and food to make sandwiches and all. he had all the poles and bait and stuff for them. as usual, she had to wait first to hear him speak and then she could swing into the dialect. he had come up from the south to marry a woman who was from Goodyear, Kansas. she had died in a car accident. he showed them the intersection where she had died: one of those ones where long, long roads cross suddenly with no stop signs. you can see the other car coming for miles and miles. it doesn't seem possible people would risk crossing at the same time. but that's what had happened. he had stayed in the town. because he had this job managing the grocery store. and he liked it there. it's a great place to raise kids, he told her... he baited all their lines. and taught the kids how to cast a bit. retaught her. it came back soon. the swing from the wrist. always a skill worth all of them knowing...then the waiting. the little slack on the line at the end. so that the fish will rest. then you can net it safely. how to release safely for you and for the fish: so it will live another day. the kids and she were way impressed.

they ate their sandwiches. drank the water. played a little touch football: which the kids also liked a lot. Then suddenly, to their surprise, Nick came by the lake in his VW van. he got out. looking very irritated. I got your pills, he told her. she flushed. thanks, Nick... it's time to go: he spoke firmly. we're on a schedule here. the clinic is waiting for us, you know. we got to make up for this lost time... it wasn't lost, she told him. we've had some fun: it's been good... and cut the weird accent, Nick spoke suddenly. she flushed again: it's my dad's accent, she told him. it's from Lousiana. she stood up straight. it's natural to me, she spoke proudly. under certain conditions. Nick stared her down best he could. I'm not sure I know you as well as I thought I did... maybe you don't, she answered simply. the kids and Ronnie just stood staring at the two of them. are you coming? Nick pointed to his van. I packed up your stuff and the kid's stuff too. I'm ready to roll.

she knew then. there are times you just stop and take stock. you look at a man like Nick and a man like Ronnie and you think about how you're a single mom and about how your kids probably need a daddy. they really do. and you need some security. Goodyear, Kanas is a conservative town and Ronnie is truly a nice man. he's not a brilliant doctor and he isn't taking her to California. granny dress or no, she may or may not be the right person for California. she may not be the right person for Kansas either. the kids might be happier here. or they may be happier by the ocean. actually, they are pretty happy anywhere. it's her trip. where does she want to be? what's the risk here? nobody knows her here. nobody knows her in California either, except Nick. this is just a couple of states away from all of her family. instead of across the whold darn nation. her family would be happier. her being closer and all.

she looked at Ronnie. do you have a local hospital?...why, of course we do....do they need nurses? yep. any shift. hard to get nurses out here...a pause. I know a lady who does after-school day care, he offered...there are three houses for rent in town in nice areas, he continued quietly. all reasonable...good schools....a long pause.....
she turned to her kids. do you guys like it here so far? they all looked at her really serious: yep. yep. yep.

now what? Nick was fuming. are you getting into this van or what?... OK, then: or what. she spoke firmly...come on kids, let's get our stuff out... she looked up at Ronnie. my name is Suzanne Miller, she spoke calmly. I think we want to check out your town as a place to live for awhile. maybe to settle down...he nodded: that sounds OK....she turned to Nick. It's the 70s, Nick. new times. new ways to deal with things...I'm not going with you to California any more. it's not good, Nick. we're not good. you know that, deep in you. right? right?....he looked at the kids. bye, kids, he said. he climbed into the van. you know where the clinic is. send me your phone and address when you know it. then I'll send you mine...he drove certainly away....

you'll like it here, Ronnie offered. it's a good place, Suzanne...I think it may be, she answered softly...they walked to his van and piled the kid's stuff and her stuff inside. they all very seriously climbed into the van. let's find you a place to come home to, Ronnie smiled. started up the van...

yes, Suzanne ventured. that's what we need...

a place...

to come home....