Part 3: 9 - This Crazy Idea
Lisa embarks on a new mission
Things That Can’t Be Broken is a novel presented as a live draft, one chapter every week.
Last week: Part 3: 8 Angels and Elvis • 2008, Take a ride on Lisa’s theta waves
Part 3 | A Storm Blowing from Paradise
9 - This Crazy Idea
Lisa Cartwright
August 18-21, 2008
Las Vegas, Nevada
When Lisa called Tim, he answered before the first ring finished. He had so many questions. Even after she told him everything the questions kept coming:
Where are you? Las Vegas.
Why? Because my mom might have been here.
When? A little over twenty years ago. He wanted details so she told him everything she knew, everything Miss Clara had told her.
What were you thinking? I wanted to know what happened to my mom.
Does anyone else know where you are? No.
How are you going to get home? I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about it.
Can I book you a flight? No. That’s kind of you, but I’ll take care of it.
The call was exhausting. Her head felt like a giant helium balloon bobbing around against the ceiling tiles. After answering every question he asked, she had only one for him to answer in return. What was the name of the song stuck in her head since she woke up from the accident?
He didn’t understand the urgency, but when she told him the words she had written down on the yellow legal pad, he did know the song. She knew he would. How he kept these things in his head was a mystery. She wrote it down: The Dream Before by Laurie Anderson, from her Strange Angels album. She wasn’t sure why it was so important to her either, but at least now she could look it up. After a nap.
Lisa closed her eyes. Tim had sounded so concerned, “Let me know if I can help in any way.” Lisa clung gratefully to that statement. The days in the hospital were hard to distinguish from each other but when she did find herself on the phone with Tim again some time later, maybe a day or two, she started to laugh. It hurt. Tears welled and dropped down her cheeks.
He said, “Lisa? Are you laughing? What’s funny?”
Lisa found her voice. “I didn’t get to tell you last time we talked. I saw Dani as an angel. We flew together.”
When Tim said, “You’re lucky,” something fell and landed painfully in his voice like it was a solemn confession. “That’s beautiful. I never see her in my dreams.”
She said, “People keep telling me that. That I’m lucky. I must be. Maybe I should gamble while I’m here.” She took as deep a breath as she could manage through the pain of her bruised ribs. “I want to ask you something. I have this crazy idea, something I want to do for Dani. . .”
“A new kite design?” Tim suggested, his voice rising with hope.
Lisa paused and considered changing the entire swing of the conversation, but the memory of Dani’s hopeful angel face from her dream won out. Out it came, ready or not, “The horsemanship program Dani wanted to attend, I want to bring it back, get it going again. You asked if you could help in any way. Well, I could use your help if you’re willing.”
It was a long moment before Tim responded. “Lisa,” he said gingerly, “I know this feels important to you right now. I just don’t. . . ” He stopped to weigh his words, “You know nothing about horses and I know little more than you do.”
Lisa gave a small nervous laugh. “We won’t run it, just get it going. I saw Barb working at The Morning Cup. I bet she would help. I heard the Allens went to Scotland. Maybe we can find them, too,” said Lisa.
“Do you know how many people liv—It isn’t our place, Lisa. Think this through. There are surely other ways to honor Dani’s memory.”
“This is what Dani is asking for. I thought if anyone would understand. . .” Lisa steeled her jaw. “It’s what she wants. From us. And it’s going to do a lot of people good, a lot of young people, and even people like Barb, who. . . She looks miserable.”
Tim let out a laugh. “I know you hit your head. . .”
“It does sound crazy.” Lisa interrupted. “I know it does. But if you had seen Dani. . .”
“Lisa, I know you want to fix everything broken in the world. But I’m concerned for you, for your health. Dani is gone—it’s not what anyone wanted but she’s gone. She doesn’t need anything from us. None of us can go back to what life was like before. We can only go forward. I’m glad you’re going to be okay and I hope you do find out what happened to your mother, but we need to let Dani go. I think that’s what she would want.”
The bounce was back in his voice. She had crossed the boundary of his concern and had given him more than he wanted to deal with again. Next would come his excuse to get off the phone.
“She would want to bring back the horses,” said Lisa, almost to herself. Why couldn’t he see that? He encouraged that passion in their daughter more than anyone else.
Concerned for my health. She knew it was a crazy idea, but she thought that of most of her other ideas and Tim had supported them. What if he was right?
She did the only thing she could do. She pulled the yellow legal pad to herself and began to write. She let the words carry her. She wrote until her hand shook and then she kept on writing. She filled both sides of the legal pad, front to back and back to front, before she put the pen down and slept. When she awoke, two fresh yellow pads and a new ball point pen were piled atop the first. Darlene.
Thursday afternoon Darlene pushed a wheelchair into Lisa’s room. “You ready for the free roller coaster ride to the front door?”
“I am. I’ll miss you, Darlene, but not this place,” said Lisa.
“No, no one likes to stay at my place for long.” Darlene gave a hearty laugh. “Why is that? I’m getting a complex.” She helped Lisa lower herself into the chair and handed her a plastic bag of her legal pads, a crutch, and her small shoulder purse. “Where do you go from here, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I’ve booked a room at the Tropicana for a few nights. My friend Mary is going to meet me tomorrow. She’ll drive us back to San Diego on Sunday.”
“Glad to hear you have a ride home,” Darlene said as they passed the nurses’ station.
“Well, since I don’t have a car and. . .” Lisa lifted her left arm and left leg in their casts, “Now that I’m all right, what else can I do?” Lisa smiled into her neck brace.
Darlene laughed bright as the sun as she turned the corner and pushed the button for the elevator. “See a show, maybe?”
Lisa put a hand to her chin. “Well, my mom was a huge Elvis fan. Both of my parents actually, but especially my mom.”
“Was she? Well, you are a lucky girl! My church choir is putting on its annual fundraiser concert this Saturday. It’s all gospel songs Elvis sang. It’s tasteful. No jumpsuits, just good gospel.” The elevator dinged. Darlene said, “The money goes to the women’s shelter. It’s pretty popular, but I could save you a ticket if you’re interested.”
Lisa considered this as Darlene wheeled her into the elevator. “The gospel songs were my favorites as a child.” It was the closest to church she ever went with her parents.
“Tickets are just ten dollars each.” Darlene sounded genuinely excited and it was catchy.
“Why not?” said Lisa. “Can you save me two? One for my friend Mary?”
“I believe so!” Darlene gave a bright smile that was worth every cent of the ticket price. “It’s at the Triumph Baptist Church on Flamingo Road, east of the strip. You can get the tickets at the thrift store across the street. It starts at seven, but be there by six if you can. There’ll be treats for sale. You gotta try a piece of Miss Sherrie’s almond cake.”
“We’ll be there at six. Will we see you?”
“Fourth from the left, back row!” Darlene said as she pushed the chair through the sliding doors and into the blinding furnace that was Las Vegas in August.
Lisa put a hand up to shield her eyes. “You’ll be singing?! I can’t wait!”
The cab was already waiting at the curb. Darlene opened the door and helped Lisa inside with a wink, “See you Saturday!”
She and her crutch climbed out of the taxi and hobbled through the doors of the Tropicana with all the grace of a land-bound pteratactyl. For that she was rewarded with a cool waft of stale cigarette smoke masked by a pineapple-coconut scent. At least she had no luggage to haul. She was wearing the only clothing she had, a large t-shirt that said, “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada”, and a pair of over-sized shorts she purchased at the hospital gift shop because they would fit over her casts. It might have made more sense to take Tim up on his offer to get her a flight home, but she wanted to do some investigating.
It was unlikely anything would come of it, but if her mother had been at the Tropicana, someone must have run into her at some point. When she called her father and told him where she was and what she wanted to do, he gave her even less encouragement than Tim had. “Go on with your life, Lisa. That’s what both your mother and Dani would have wanted.”
He and Tim were on the same page, somehow knowing what her daughter and her mother wanted. No matter. She didn’t blame either of them. Tim might fall in line if she could convince him it was really important to Dani. And if not, she would continue to try to make things happen on her own. As for Dad, she would tell him whatever she found out, but she would find out for herself, not for him, and that was okay.
Not unexpectedly, the Tropicana did not provide any information about Alessia Maria De Luca, or Lisa Marie Arai. She hadn’t worked there, or probably been there with any frequency. Even the employees who had been there the longest didn’t recognize the picture Lisa pulled from her wallet. It was always a long shot.
She limped into the library Friday morning to search for newspaper articles, any news with one of her mother’s names. No surprises. The librarian pointed out that if her mother didn’t want to be found, it was possible, even likely she was going by a different name, especially since she had changed her name before. It seemed Las Vegas was not going to easily produce an answer to the mystery of her mother. She might have to accept that she would never know.
Mary was a welcome sight, especially after the disappointing library visit. Lisa hardly felt she deserved such a friend who would go to her house, gather a small suitcase of things, and drive five hours to Las Vegas for her. But Mary was Mary and she lived to be helpful. Lisa was lucky, as Darlene had said, as Tim had said. Lucky Lisa, what an ironic pairing of words.
The choir concert seemed like a paltry gift in return for Mary’s help, but Mary was excited about it, so as soon as Lisa changed clothes, the two of them headed straight to the thrift shop.
When they pulled up to the hot parking lot, an elderly woman was struggling to lift a heavy cardboard box from the trunk of her car. Mary stepped up to help and brought it it inside. While the clerk helped the woman with her donations, Lisa and Mary browsed the shop.
It was a cute little shop, with the usual thrift shop items, charming glass vases, beads, bright racks of clothing. There were carved wooden masks, a mirror edged with shells, and then she saw it. The entire back wall was devoted to Elvis. The white-painted pegboard was crowded with photos. There were shelves of trinkets and dolls, a basket of pins, an armload of jewelry, and a rack of Elvis fan garb, complete with costumes and a wig.
Lisa had the odd feeling she was back in her childhood home when she looked at the Elvis knick-knacks and kitchenware. Her eyes moved to a collection of tiny statues, then stopped at the bobblehead she remembered from the back window of her mother’s car. There had to be numerous copies. That wasn’t so strange. But there was the same bejeweled-white-jumpsuited Elvis that hung from her mother’s rearview mirror, the one she had seen bouncing across the lanes of the freeway after the accident.
Eerie.
Her eyes moved up to the wall and lit on a photo in a tiny gold frame. There was no mistaking. It was a smaller version of the photo that used to be on Mom’s bed stand in her parents’ home and now hung on her own living room wall. In it, Mom was a young bleached-blonde smiling from ear to ear with Elvis sitting beside her, pen in hand.
Lisa stood transfixed. When Mary came up to her and squeezed her arm, she jumped. Mary said, “What is it?”
“That’s my mother,” said Lisa.
“In the picture?”
“Yes, that’s her.” Lisa picked up the frame and brought it to the clerk. “Excuse me. Where did you get this photo?”
Next
Part 3 | A Storm Blowing from Paradise
10 - Expanding
Behind-the-Scenes Extra
Befitting of this chapter, my husband and I actually passed through Las Vegas twice this week on our way to and from a little getaway to the St. George area of Southern Utah. Thankfully, we didn’t have a traumatic road meeting like Lisa did.
I started the chapter before we left and was able to carve out a few hours to complete it while we had some down time between hiking days. We got home in plenty of time for another round or two of edits before its release. It’s not how I prefer to write, but it is fantastic to know that I can and I will get my designated chapter done, even while on a mini-vacation.
The outline is my lifeline. It waves at me while I’m floating in space. “You’ll be okay. I’ve got ya!” And somehow I always manage to put on my gravity boots and what needs to get down gets down, even if it isn’t exactly what I first imagined it would be. I like to think I’ve made it even better.
And as I’ve found often happens, the next chapter had to shuffle. So it looks like you’ll get “Gifts” next week, instead of “Traveler’s Halo” —don’t worry, all the goodies I have planned, and possibly more, will come to you before it’s done.
Here’s some Utah beauty to tide you over:
