Old Times

Kate’s best, most reasonable, attainable dream home, was an aging castle of her own, in the quickly gentrifying neighborhood just east of downtown Kansas City, MO. There is even a national TV reality show about this area, called “Bargain Mansions”! In which a young blonde woman and her dad buy run down old Victorians, rehab it themselves and turn them into upscale Millennial Mansions.

Kate wasn’t especially young or blonde, and her father had passed away years ago. Nevertheless, she saw herself, and her future in this TV show. Having grown up in a downward spiral of rental houses, apartments and finally, just before she left home, a monthly motel. Kate had always envisioned that castle…where she would be Queen.

So, when she spotted the 3 story, 4-bedroom, elderly Victorian grand dame, at auction for the price of back taxes, she knew it was meant to be! Even though it would cost every cent she had in the bank and several cash advances from credit cards. Carpe Diem and WTF!! This was her destiny!

But now, 2 months later, she realized she had underestimated the repair costs, and over-estimated her own remodeling skills. It would take more than “painting parties” to fix this place up. She was still thousands of dollars away from making this aging monument a home. Kate realized she was going to have to put her back and hands into this project, as well as her heart and soul. If only she could hook up with a big, strong general contractor, with an equally big, strong dick…she could solve both of her major problems!

Nevertheless, numerous YouTube videos later, Kate felt confident enough to put sledgehammer to wall and start craving out her open kitchen. But as the 1940s tiles fell, so did a small black notebook. It had been wrapped in heavy vintage cellophane, so when it slid out of the wall, it was clean, almost like new. She paused, hammer in mid swing, and reached down to pick up this intriguing artifact.

The black leather notebook, about 5×8inches, had a fleur-de-lis embossed on the cover. It was a bound journal, of high quality. The sort of item its owner might have received as a gift and would want to save. And saved it was, in a hollow space just behind where the old wood burning stove had been. In a place the owner thought no one would ever find it. But here she stood, with someone’s very private memories in her hands.

Overtaken with curiosity, and more than ready to put that hammer down, Kate sank crossed legged to the floor…and opened the cover.

The first thing she saw was, oddly, a woman’s driver’s license! Attached to the first page with yellowed scotch tape. The old, shiny kind you don’t see much anymore. And just below that, a slender lock of sandy blonde hair…affixed with the same antiquated tape.

The facing page was blank, but when she turned it, there was a handwritten note.

My Dearest Love Catherine,

I’m So Sorry!! All I ever wanted to do was love you, now it seems I have ruined your life, and perhaps mine. Please forgive me, my darling. I never meant to hurt you, but I just could not bear to be without you. My passion for you is so great, I couldn’t control myself. And now I have done the thing that will separate us forever.

At least until the time when we will be gloriously reunited, on the swing under the big oak tree in the backyard. I am living my lonely life waiting for that day! I love you Catherine. Tim

WOW. Kate held the notebook and read it over several times. What must it feel like to be loved that much? She herself had never felt that kind of intense passion directed at her. All her exes had salved their souls with some beers at the bar and a new piece of ass. But once upon a time, apparently back in 1982 (the date on the license), true love really did exist! And Tim had saved her drivers license and a lock of her hair, tangible proof of his lady love. But she also realized, this love letter had never been sent. It was still bound in the nearly blank pages of the notebook. She understood that Tim had kept this journal just for his Catherine. There was nothing else important enough to write in it.

And this Katherine decided, just at that moment, that she would locate Catherine and give her the book. Let her know how intensely she was loved by this man! If they had broken up then, never married, never had a life together…Cate deserved to know how he felt about her!

Kate would be like “Amelie”, in that French movie she always loved when she was young. One who brought forgotten joy to lonely people. People like herself.

So, she posted the ID picture and name on Facebook, with the caption, “Do you know this person?” Within a couple of days, she got a response, but it confused her. A middle-aged woman from a nearby town wrote “I’m her sister!! Do you know where she is?!!”

Sensing this was a NSFW conversation, Kate PM’d the woman and told her about the notebook, and the ID, and the lock of hair. The woman, Elizabeth, told Kate that her 2 years older sister had disappeared in 1982, at the age of 26. She was unmarried and had no children. Although the police searched for her as a missing person, and her employer, IBM, put up a $5000 reward for information…none came. Hers became another of thousands of cases of adults who had seemingly just walked away from their lives. And that wasn’t news…likely it wasn’t even a crime. That’s what the local police had been telling Elizabeth for 40+ years and she had come to believe it. “I’m glad you found her old drivers license, but I know that Catherine is long gone from this earth. It’s taken me so many years to put her to rest in my mind. I would prefer to let her stay there.”

Kate understood a sister’s heartbreak and loss. She had a sister once herself, years ago. When their family was evicted from the apartment with the big trees on Stateline, and they had to move into the motel in Raytown. At first the swimming pool seemed like a fabulous upgrade in their lives. Their parents had sent Kate and Cassie to swimming lessons at the YWCA when they were just little tadpoles. Now diving off the board and swimming the length of the pool underwater, all without having to take a breath, was an easy exhibition for them. Dad was so proud of his girls, swimming so confidently like that. It meant a lot to him, cause there wasn’t too much to be proud of in those days. That’s why no one, least of all Kate and her Dad, could make any sense of the scene they looked down on, just before sunset. Cassie was floating face down in the pool, wearing only the top of her lime green bikini. Kate knew the moment she saw her little sister that Cassie was dead. Naturally, the police were called, witnesses were interviewed, and statements were taken. But the cops declined to do a rape kit. Said the chlorine water had already washed the evidence away if there was any. The coroner ruled Cassie’s death an “accidental drowning” and the case was effectively closed.

Three weeks later, Kate got a minimum wage job and moved into a little studio off Main St in KCMO. That was a long time ago, and she’s been in charge of her own life ever since.

After reading Elizabeth’s response, Kate took another look at the note with fresh eyes. What if she had been interpreting Tim’s words as the passionate, unsent missive from the heart that She longed to see? Her own personal affirmation of true love. But in the light of Catherine’s disappearance, what if this was actually a poetic confession? This time she read the note for what it really was! This was Not a love letter…it was an apology. An apology from the person who caused Catherine’s disappearance 39 years ago…Tim!

The fact that this notebook was secreted in a space behind the tiles, in a house whose long-time owner had lost possession due to unpaid taxes, begged two questions…was the owner named Tim? And did he know what happened to Catherine? Kate knew she had to find the man, to get the answers.

A brief search of property records turned up Timothy Reynolds. But his current whereabouts were harder to discern. With the help of a paid website, Kate got his personal info and current address. At a VA nursing home.

Kate felt a little hesitant to confront a veteran who had served his and her country. The kind of man who is usually deemed a hero. But now she might show him to be a kidnapper and a killer. She almost wished she were wrong about Tim. But if not him, who?

The nurses aid led her down a long corridor of patient rooms to the common area, where 20 or so elderly people, mostly men, most in wheelchairs, watched TV, played cards and chuckled amongst themselves. She led Kate to a particular old man, in a wheelchair, staring blankly at a TV.

She approached the seemingly comatose man and simply held out the open notebook, showing him first the driver’s license then the note. His rummy eyes suddenly came to life, a scratchy shout came out of his throat, and he lunged for the notebook!! Kate snatched it away before he could grab it and ran out of the building. Then sat in her car trembling with fear, excitement and delight. She had found her man!!

What happened next was almost a blur of activity. She contacted the cold case police squad, they reviewed the evidence, nothing particularly Tim's reference to the “big oak tree" in the backyard. With Kate’s enthusiastic agreement, they dug up an aged stump…and found human bones. They arrested Tim Reynolds at the VA home. They handcuffed him to his wheelchair, just in case.

Catherine’s sister was contacted and gave a DNA sample to identify the skeleton. But Elizabeth knew as soon as she saw the little gold cross pendant that was found in the grave, this was her long-lost sister. And she gave all the credit to Kate, for taking a genuine interest in someone else’s life and death.

Then Elizabeth reminded the police about the $5000 reward Catherine’s employer had put into an escrow account, many years hence, for the person who located the missing woman and/or her abductor. Kate had done both, single handedly!

With 40+ years interest, the reward money now came to $20,573…tax free!! Enough to bring her old castle, with the lovely bones, back to a semblance of its previous glory. And since there was now a Big hole in her backyard, Kate decided to indulge in a little luxury, by installing a sunken spa tub, with a teak deck and gas fire pit. Her own little oasis fit for the Queen she was becoming.

She was still hoping to meet that hunky contractor of her dreams. “I need to get some pipe laid immediately!” Kate joked to herself. But nevertheless, she felt more content in this space than she ever had, anywhere before. This must be that feeling of “Home" that everyone talks about and writes about, but she had never felt…until now.

And although Kate lived alone, she was never lonely. There was always a warm, comforting presence in her house. Especially in the backyard. Where she sat in the spa, letting the swirling water take her body away and sharing her deepest personal thoughts…silently…with Catherine.