Lyrics of a Small Town by Abbi Glines

Seventeen

Rio was gone and the blanket I had thrown over him last night was neatly folded on the end of the sofa. I was glad he wasn’t here. I needed time to process first. I put my purse on the counter and went down the hallway toward the pull-down attic near the back bedroom. Stopping underneath it, I stared up at it. The fear of the ladder wasn’t what made me pause. It was what else I may find up there.

When I went to work this morning, I hadn’t known that I would find out that the answers to my father had been right under my nose for weeks. “You could have just told me, Gran,” I said aloud. If she hadn’t been preparing to die, would she have ever told me? I had spent so many summers here and not once had she taken me to meet my other grandmother, or mentioned I had a brother. Why couldn’t she just have left me a letter telling me all this? The list she left lay in her bedroom on the dresser. I wondered if it held more secrets and just how deep this was going to get.

I brought a chair from the kitchen and stood on it to reach the pull string on the attic entrance. Once I had it down, I didn’t think too long about it or the ladder would start to freak me out. Instead, I just went for it. At the top of the ladder, another string hung down and hit the side of my face. Reaching for it, I pulled and the light came on, illuminating the attic.

There were boxes stacked against the far-right wall, and Christmas decorations covered the entire left side of the space. My throat got a lump in it when I saw Gran’s Santa in the back corner. It was life-size and when you pressed its hand, it would sing Jingle Bells. It was always beside Gran’s tree in the living room.

I stepped up and stood on the floor and did a full circle. There was an old green trunk behind me and beside it was a coat rack with hats that I recognized as my granddad’s hanging on it. What looked like prom dresses were hanging on hooks on the wall behind them, covered in clear bags to protect the fabric. They had to have been mom’s.

There was a lifetime of memories up here. Were all attics this way? My fear of ladders may have caused me to miss out on a lot. I went to the boxes on the right and began searching through them. Some were labeled with Gran’s handwriting and a permanent marker. Most were not.

It took only a few minutes and some searching to find the first box of things that had been Mom’s when she was younger. Concert tickets to Hootie and the Blowfish, Boys 2 Men, and Garth Brooks, photos of Mom with friends, her first temporary driver’s license, and a blue-ribbon award for a Science Project.

The box under it had mostly photos, so I sat it aside to take downstairs with me. It was the last box I came to that held letters. Folded-up lined paper that looked like something that was passed around in class in an old movie from like the eighties. I put it with the photo box and made sure there were no other boxes that might hold answers.

Once I was sure I had everything, I went back to the ladder and took a deep breath to calm myself, before having to climb back down it while holding two boxes. Turning off the light on my way down, I managed to make it to the ground without an issue.

In the living room, I placed both boxes on the coffee table then sat down on the sofa. Opening the one with the photos first, I went through them slowly. There was a photo of my mom at her Sweet Sixteen birthday party in Gran’s back yard, standing with a younger Wanda Sellers smiling at the camera. I sat that aside. I would take it to Mrs. Wanda when I went to visit her.

Taking my time, I studied each photo for some clue or possibly a guy. It wasn’t until I got to the last four pictures that I saw him. He was tall, had dark hair, and Mom was looking up at him with love. Was this Rebel? Or was it someone else? I looked at the next photo and this one was in someone else’s house. Mom was sitting on the boy’s lap and they were kissing. I couldn’t see his face clearly, but it was the same boy.

Then there was a strip of images from a photo booth. They kissed again, they smiled at the camera, they looked at each other, and the last one, the guy made a funny face while Mom was laughing. She seemed happy. I wasn’t sure I had ever seen my mom this happy. She was typically uptight and difficult to deal with. The girl in the photos didn’t appear that way at all.

The last picture was just of the boy. He was on a motorcycle, no helmet, looking at the camera but not smiling. Mom had said he died in a motorcycle accident. Rio’s mom said he overdosed. Emily had said he died in a car accident or motorcycle accident. Was “he” the same guy in these photos?

I set them all to the side and put the rest of the pictures back in Mom’s box. The letters would hopefully tell me more. Just as I reached for the box of letters, there was a knock on my door. Looking up, I saw Rio and suddenly felt guilty for going to the attic without him.

I put the letter box back down and went to let him inside.

“I went to the attic,” I said and waved a hand toward the boxes.

He nodded. “Good. Find anything?” he asked, but he seemed distracted.

“Yeah, I think so,” I replied, not sure how to explain Hillya’s son and if I should tell him until I had spoken to Hillya. I wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was.

“Okay, uh, you can fill me in later. I don’t have much time. Pop is expecting me to unload the strawberry truck that is coming in. The Strawberry Festival is this weekend and he’s gearing up.”

“Oh, alright. I didn’t know there was a Strawberry Festival here,” I said, surprised by the fact he didn’t seem interested in what I had found out.

“This will be its fifth year. It’s new. But have you seen Saul?”

I shook my head confused as to why he would come ask me if he couldn’t find Saul.

Rio sighed and ran his hand over the top of his head. “Shit,” he muttered.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s his mom. She’s,” he paused and looked torn about saying any more.

“Is Lily on another binge?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, he woke up late last night at her place and she was gone. He texted both me and Drake around one in the morning, but we were both asleep and missed it. Now we can’t get him on the phone and he’s not been back all day. She gets into some dark shit and I’m worried he’s in trouble.”

“As in drugs?” I asked, fear slowly crawling up my spine.

He nodded. “Yeah. Last time he had to pull her out of a drug house. We went with him. That shit ain’t pretty.”

“Drug house?” I repeated horrified. I thought she took pills and drank too much. Saul had said nothing about drug houses. I wasn’t sure what drug houses were exactly. My sheltered life had made sure of it.

Rio nodded. “I’ve got to go unload the strawberries. If you hear from him, let me know. If no one hears from him by the time I’m off work, I’ll have to call his dad.”

“Dad?” I asked. I hadn’t realized he had a dad around here. Not that I knew much about Saul. I didn’t even know his last name.

“Yeah. Saul will be pissed. He was last time I had to call his dad, but dammit he needs to respond to my text or answer my calls.” Rio sounded frustrated with the entire situation.

“I take it he and his dad aren’t on good terms,” I said.

Rio grunted. “You could say that.”

“Does his dad live here?” I asked.

Rio laughed then shook his head. “No.” He reached for the door knob. “I gotta go. I’ll let you know if I hear from him.”

I wanted to ask why he laughed when I asked if Saul’s dad lived in town, but he was in a hurry. “Okay, bye,” I said instead.

Rio left and I looked at the letters again. My mind was now on Saul and Lily. I wasn’t sure I could focus on the letters right now. How could I help? How had Gran helped them?

“You could have left me a journal or something, Gran. If you were planning on bringing these people into my life, then a little direction would have helped.”