Part 2: 12 - Tethered
1989 - Lisa and Dani find themselves tied
Things That Can’t Be Broken is a novel presented as a live draft, one chapter every week.
Last week: Part 2: 11 - Now Here, Nowhere • Maeve and Todd, between going away and going home
Part 2 | History is a Pile of Debris
12 - Tethered
Lisa Cartwright
August 17, 1989
La Mesa, California
When Lisa finally willed herself to call Tim, he didn’t answer. He had told her he would be in meetings all day, but it was Dani’s birthday. She would have been eleven today. Maybe they couldn’t be together, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t acknowledge the day with a phone call. Tim had wanted her to go to San Francisco with him. He had playfully pleaded and gracefully cajoled for weeks. She just couldn’t see herself going. While she knew it was her own decision that led her to being alone on this day, she hadn’t realized it would be so hard. It didn’t seem to be the same for him.
“Why not come to San Francisco just for a few days?” Tim had said over the phone last week. “Why can’t you be here—for me? Just this one time, not forever, just a few days?” He had begged in words, but the words fell passionless, like the idea was actually less than a pleasant one for him, a pretended wish. Either way, he knew what her answer would be as well as she did. She wasn’t going to San Francisco.
Tim had work to do and Lisa being there would only weigh him down. Even when she tried to consider it, she couldn’t. It was too far. And who would put flowers on Dani’s grave? “Dani is everywhere, not in the ground,” Tim would say. But what if Dani is everywhere? She would know if her mother didn’t care enough to be there to tend her gravestone on her birthday.
“You’re not even religious,” were Tim’s words. Which somehow made her think of Elvis. And Mom. Mom had no gravestone to visit, though she had been gone for twelve years. She wasn’t coming back either. Yet the same childish thought flashed by Lisa’s mind, a subconscious habit, both potent and unseen. What if Mom comes back and I’m not here to bring her in, to give her some warm food and a bed?
The phone rang. Lisa looked up at the clock. Eight-fifteen.
“Hello?” It was Tim calling her back.
She brightened as best she could. “How did it go today?”
“It went incredibly well!” Said Tim. “I just picked up a job in New York for an architecture firm.”
“You’re an architect now?” Lisa forced a chuckle.
“No,” said Tim, “But a guy I met with today has a client who needs all kinds of high-end materials designed, I’ve already got ideas. He wants to give his firm a solid brand while allowing the individual architects their own flavors. So, I’m going to be working on the sauce that brings everything together.”
“Architects. Sounds like a hearty ego soup to me. If anyone can handle it though, you certainly can.”
“Ego soup.” Tim laughed. “I like that. You’re more naturally creative than you let yourself believe. Anyway, yeah, all good stuff today. How about you?”
Tim sounded so happy. Lisa didn’t want to bring him down. She searched her mind for some positive news to give him. “I went to the park today,” she lied. “I saw some kites—I think I’m going to do some kite building soon, maybe as a fundraiser.”
“Oh, that’s a really great idea, Lisa! Maybe I can help. What charity?”
Lisa blurted out the first non-profit that popped into her mind, “The Compassionate Friends.”
“Oh,” Tim paused on the phone, possibly remembering it was their daughter’s birthday? “The grief groups, right? You’re going to meetings with them?”
“No. I mean. . . I have a business card. . . ” Lisa felt caught. “I guess I should do that.”
If Tim knew she was faking having a plan, he didn’t let on. He said, “That could be a good place to start.”
“Yeah. We’ll see what happens,” said Lisa, certain that Tim knew as well as she did she would be putting this off, or might never get to it.
“I heard from Mitch they’re starting work on Dani’s bridge soon. After the upgrades are finished there will be a dedication ceremony.”
“Oh?” Lisa heard voices on his end. Co-workers this late?
“Hey, I’ve gotta go. I have a new collaboration to celebrate,” said Tim, “Let’s talk more tomorrow.”
“Okay. . . Tim? It’s her birthday. . . Tim?” But he was already gone. How was this so easy for him?
Lisa looked around, assessing her little house. That’s exactly how she felt about it, that it was her house alone now. Tim was a guest, rarely there for more than a weekend and usually not consecutive weekends. He spent most of his time at his apartment outside of San Francisco. She wondered if his next home would be in New York.
He always sounded so positive. Maybe she really should do something with kites. She was good at it. People knew her as the kite lady. It was always at the back of her mind, calling to her, until she looked at the sewing machine in the closet and imagined the sounds and smells of that day. So far, she had frozen up every time. But maybe. Maybe today.
Instead of going straight to the closet, Lisa turned the corner from the living room and opened the linen cabinet, wondering if she had any good leftover silk stowed there. Behind the hand towels was a small cardboard box. She pulled out the towels and slid the box forward, peering inside. String. Spools and spools of kite string, too short to use for kites, too long to throw away.
Seeing the door open, Dani’s gray cat, George, jumped into the cabinet. “Oh, George,” she said. “It’s the same old shelves, nothing new.”
He turned and looked up at her from atop a pile of bath towels, slowly squinting his yellow eyes. Since last December, when Tim’s old Corgi, Jelly, passed, it had mostly been just her and George at the house, unless Tim was visiting. She never imagined she would find comfort in a cat. But George was her constant companion these days and she had grown, if not fond, at least grateful for his presence, even if she was not thrilled by the tufts of gray fur all over the house, or the daily cleaning of his litter box. He followed her to the kitchen table, where she sat down and unwound a few feet from a spool of string, swinging it in front of the cat until he pounced on it.
She had an idea, one she knew Dani would like.
Dani Marie Cartwright
Outside of Time
Often Near the Pepper Tree Outside of Allen Haven Ranch
I am doing my best to tell you my story in a timeline that makes sense to you as a living person. Just remember that it doesn’t happen this way for me now that I am dead. For me, all is happening and has happened all the time. I do try to sort the present and the past in the right order for you, but please forgive me if I get the timeline confused.
Did you know that if you’re angry enough, people can see or hear you after you’re dead? Some people can see you even when you’re not angry, but I’ve found that being really angry is the best way to get attention.
I was so incredibly angry when I died, I made a big mistake. I got the man who killed me to bring me to Allen Haven Ranch. . . Well, almost. He buried my body in front of the gate under this tree. It caused a lot of problems for the Allens. The police thought Mr. Allen killed me. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m trying really hard to fix that.
I made friends with a nice man named Kiko who walks by my tree most days. He’s easy to be around, especially when he sits with his rattle. He does see me sometimes, and he talks to me all the time, the way I used to talk to George and Jelly, though he doesn’t often hear me. I guess I don’t get angry enough for him to hear me most of the time, but I was able to reach him when I needed him most. I gave him clues when I saw what happened to the man killed me. But I’m not sure it helped. The Allens still left, and there are no horses here, maybe forever.
It was good to be near the horses for a while, but it also made me sad and angry, because I had to watch them from a distance. When I come too close they just snort and shy away. Joker, the big broad-chested part draft, was just starting to get used to me when the Allens packed up and left. I watched all the horses go away in the horse trailer, a few at a time. Before I knew it, there was no one at Allen Haven at all. It makes me angry; it happened because of me, because I was angry, because I’m dead. That’s not my fault. Even Grammy says it’s not my fault, but it doesn’t matter, because I’m dead now and the horses are gone.
I might be a ghost. Grammy says it’s not good to be a ghost. She’s afraid I’ll get stuck. It doesn’t seem so bad. Sometimes people can see me. That’s the best!
If I get really angry, and concentrate really hard, I can get almost anyone to see me. It’s tiring though. I get so tired. When I’m tired I can feel myself drifting backward and when the drifting picks up speed, I start to panic. Everything goes so fast! There is no way to hold on to anything except for this pepper tree, and the more I get people to see me, the harder it gets to be in more places and times. I am always with Grammy, but she’s a lot more foggy when I’m tired.
I’m kind of famous now. Everyone seems to know I’m here. It was fun at first, even though everyone was sad. Two of my teachers, a few classmates and their parents, and a lot of people I never even met, brought me presents for a while. It was silly, because what am I going to do with a teddy bear besides watch it get overrun with ants and pepper tree leaves? But it was nice. It’s the thought that counts, right? I try to show myself when people visit.
Mom and Daddy don’t ever come here. I could be with them anywhere anytime for a while, but now I miss them. It’s harder to find them, because I can’t go very far. I see a lot of teens after dark who always come in groups with flashlights. I even see Barb sometimes. She comes here alone and looks different every time. She never sees me though. I don’t want her to think I’m angry, so I don’t try too hard to make her see me. I was following her when I died, but she didn’t know.
I love it when people see me; it’s why I don’t mind being a ghost if that’s what I am. Most of the teens who come here only pretend to see me, except for a few, like Chanel. She’s not tall and has dark straight hair, like me, though her skin is more brown. I wonder sometimes, if I had had a chance to be a teen, if I would have been small like Chanel, or if I would have gotten a growth spurt and grown tall like Daddy said I might.
Chanel came here at dusk one day with her boyfriend. They parked right here under the tree with me. They sat under the tree on their jackets, pulled out lighters and smoked. It stunk, but they seemed to like it a lot.
“Hello!” I shouted. “Do you know Barb? Do you know what happened to the Allens?” But they didn’t seem to notice me at all. They were kissing.
“STOP IT!” I shouted, getting angry, really trying to be heard this time. “That’s gross! This is MY tree!”
“Joey, did you hear something?” said Chanel.
“No,” said Joey, and he tried to kiss her again.
She put her hand up. “I’m serious. There’s something really creepy here.” She looked all around, but she didn’t see me.
“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” said Joey.
I concentrated with everything I had. I jumped up and down and pounded the ground with all of my spirit. Some leaves swirled a few inches, as if the wind had picked them up, right between the two of them. I stood with my face in front of Chanel. “See me!” I shouted.
She breathed in a quick gasp. “Let’s go, Joey.”
She ran to the car and jumped in, slamming the door, but the window was still open.
“Are you kidding, Chanel? It was just the wind.” Joey looked around the tree.
He didn’t see me at all. I shouted. I jumped. I pounded the ground some more. Nothing. But Chanel saw me!
“Chanel!” I cried with all my will, “Come back!”
Her eyes widened. She clutched her arms across her chest. “The tree was glowing just now. You didn’t see that?”
Joey walked slowly to the car, shaking his head, holding his palms up, and looking bewildered. “Why are you doing this? There’s nothing here! But that’s fine. Let’s go.”He got into the car, started it up, and they left. Just like that. But she saw me!
Chanel came back a few times after that with small groups of teens. She acted like she knew me. She told stories about me that were mostly wrong. I didn’t mind—it was entertaining. But now I think it has been too long. I don’t think she will be back.
I’m almost always alone. There are no horses here. I barely see anyone, and Grammy seems so far away. I watch for Kiko. Anyone. I am lonely, tied to this tree. Stuck. I miss George and Jelly. Whenever I was sad, George would curl up with me and purr. I just want to stroke his fur and let him purr. I can almost imagine I’m with him.
“George?”
For a flash, I think I am home in our hallway. “Mom?”
Next
Part 3 | A Storm Blowing from Paradise
1 - Tuesday’s Child
Behind-the-Scenes Extra
To you who have been reading along, we’re now at the halfway point for this novel. Can I get a, Woo Hoo!?
A quick recap of Part 2 | History is a Pile of Debris
[SPOILER ALERT]
In the first chapter of Part 2, you had a glimpse of the afterlife from Dani and her Grammy. You witnessed Barb’s world fall apart in just about every way possible. Maeve and Todd’s dreams disintegrated in a rumor-driven slide and they fled back to Scotland. Kiko became haunted and tormented after delivering too little information to Ocampo, and too late. And Lisa and Tim descended into a nightmare and a lifetime heartbreak, driving them each to cope in their own way, and causing them to drift further and further away from each other. Lastly, this twelfth chapter introduced you to Dani’s tethering to the pepper tree as a ghost.
[SPOILER OVER]
Gosh, I just told you the entire Part 2 in one short paragraph. Why did I have to write so many words over the last three months to get you here? 😉
More thoughts
I was a little unnerved at how much this chapter changed from what I had written earlier. However, it gives Dani more power over her situation, and it hits all the points I needed to make while lighting the way for what is to come, so I’m happy with it. And George is feeling good about having this small, but important role.
My 100-year-old grandmother recently had to say goodbye to a very important little dog we adopted for her shortly after my grandfather passed away. We never would have guessed that Grandma would outlive Mr. Bailey. But this bit part for George is in his honor. Sweet Bailey. Grandma will tell you he was hardly a dog at all; he was “almost human”.
We’re off to begin Part 3 | A Storm Blowing from Paradise, next week. In Part 2, time was mostly condensed into a few days and then began to stretch into months. The next season, you’ll see it stretched much wider. Eventually, this story will take you to the very near past.
Just fantastic as always! Love the ghost viewpoint and how she sees her world, but I've been loving that all the way through!