said Tully, putting her hands to her face.
‘Don’t be absurd,’ said Lynn. ‘Here, let me try. It’s probably just stuck, it sticks sometimes.’
The bathroom door was locked.
‘Jenny?’ said Lynn.
Tully bit down on her lip until she tasted salt and metal.
‘Jenny Lynn,’ said Mrs Mandolini, knocking on the door. ‘Jenny Lynn, honey, open the door, what’s the matter? Honey, please open the door, Jenny Lynn. Jenny Lynn? Jennifer! Open the door! Open the door, Jennifer! Open the goddamn door!’
Tully knelt with her eyes closed, her hands to her ears, mumbling incoherently to herself, ‘Our Father, which art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…’ all the while listening to Mrs Mandolini’s weeping voice, to her body thudding against the door, to her crying, ‘Jenny Lynn, Jenny Lynn! Honey, please! Open the door for Mommy! Open the door for your mommy, Jenny Lynn!’
Mrs Mandolini ran stumbling downstairs, got a screwdriver, ran back up, knelt down in front of the door handle, and started to frantically unscrew the lock, her right hand on the screwdriver, her left wiping her face, and all the while muttering, ‘Jenny Lynn, Jenny, it will be all right, honey, it will be all right.’
Behind her, Tully clasped her hands. ‘…Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven…’
Lynn got one screw out and before the other one was out she shoved the door open with her shoulder as Tully lowered her head and clenched her trembling hands. ‘…Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those…’
Tully’s eyes were shut tight, but she was not deaf, and only the deaf and the dead did not hear Lynn Mandolini scream and scream and scream when she pushed open the bathroom door and found her daughter.
Be still my soul; be still
A.E. Housman
SIX A House of Little Illusion
May 1979
Shortly before Tully’s high school graduation, a woman named Tracy Scott approached Tully at the Washburn Day Care Center where Tully continued to work on Thursday afternoons. Tracy Scott was a large-boned woman of about twenty-five whose skirts were short, exposing a good deal more of the fleshy white thigh than Tully cared to see.
Tracy’s three-year-old son Damien attended the Washburn nursery. Tully wasn’t sure how many credits the parents actually needed to take at Washburn University to enroll their kids in Washburn Day Care. Tully guessed by listening to Tracy that it couldn’t have been many.
Tracy Scott wanted to know if Tully would mind looking after her little Damien for the summer, five or six nights a week.
‘My new boyfriend’s a musician,’ Tracy Scott told Tully. ‘And me, I wanna be with him to support him, you know, while he plays. He’s real good. He sure is. You’d think so, too, if you saw him. Maybe you can come sometime.’
Tully was uncertain. Where did Tracy live?
‘Right across from White Lakes Mall. On Kansas. Well, really, it’s right behind Kansas. There may be one or two late nights. Dependin’ on where we gotta go for a gig. I used to take Damien with me, but I don’t think Billy likes that too much, Damien gets cranky. Besides, Dami needs a little…what d’ya call it? Peace. He’s just a little kid. Maybe staying out so late isn’t so good for Damien, don’t you agree?’
Tully couldn’t have agreed more.
‘I can’t pay a lot, Tully,’ said Tracy. ‘But Damien sure likes you, he talks about you at home. I’ll be able to make up what I can’t pay you with room and board, how’s that? I have a spare room you can use, you’re still livin’ at home, right? So what do you say? Will you think about it?’
Tully said she would.
A few days later, Hedda was walking home from work when she was accosted by a thin girl in cutoffs and a tank top. The girl walked behind Hedda for a little while, but finally got the courage to approach her.
‘Are you Hedda Makker?’ she asked.
Hedda looked the girl over and said, ‘Who are you?’
‘You don’t know me,’ the girl answered. ‘But I know your daughter.’
Hedda immediately sharpened up.
‘What’s your name?’ Hedda asked the girl.
‘Gail,’ the girl answered, trying to keep up with Hedda. ‘Gail Hoven.’
‘Gail, is there something you want to tell me?’
‘Hmm, yes, hmm, well.’ Gail seemed extremely nervous. ‘Did you get my letter?’
‘What letter? I’m really tired, Gail,’ said Hedda. ‘I’d like to go home now.’
That seemed to encourage the girl. ‘Mrs Makker,’ she said. ‘I think you should know that your daughter has been going out with my boyfriend since September.’
‘Ahh,’ said Hedda.
‘At Jennifer’s eighteenth birthday party she met him and they’ve been meeting, like, two or three days a week ever since!’
‘Three days a week, huh?’
‘Yes, ma’am, uh-huh,’ Gail said. ‘She’s been lying to you. I just thought you might like to know.’
‘Well, thank you, Gail,’ replied Hedda. ‘But I already knew that.’
Gail seemed baffled by this. ‘Oh, oh,’ she stammered.
‘She is a big girl now,’ said Hedda. ‘She can do as she pleases. Now let me go home, Gail.’
‘Yes, of course, Mrs Makker,’ said Gail, stopping in the middle of the street.
‘Oh, and Gail?’
‘Yes, Mrs Makker?’
‘Maybe you should try getting yourself another boyfriend, or doesn’t anyone else want you?’ said Hedda, walking away without turning around.
At home, Hedda waited for Tully. She did not make dinner. She did not talk to Lena. The TV was off. Hedda sat and waited. At seven-thirty, she asked Lena to go to her rooms.
Tully did not get home until after eight. She had gone to visit Tracy Scott’s home.
