Adeline Chapter eight: jenny lee

Jack loved nothing more than watching his children parent their youngsters. He spent all his time chuckling and dreaming up things to do with you kids, for the sake of spoiling you all and annoying your parents to no end.

He always said they had it coming, and he never felt sorry one bit. That is, until that day, Beanie, until that horrible day.

You were such a beautiful child, Jellybean, with tiny wisps of reddish hair and golden skin. And I could tell from the first time I held you in my arms, when you looked straight into my eyes, that you and I would have a special connection, because you were just like me. If there is mischief to be seen in the twinkle of an infant’s eye, I saw it in you, and I had to laugh. We connected right then and there, Jenny Lee. Right then and there.

I’ve missed you so.

You know, when Itsy was pregnant with you, she ate jellybeans until we thought she’d turn into one. That girl had them stashed everywhere you can imagine—in her car, in her purse, even in the bathroom cabinet right next to the bathroom tissue, for goodness’ sake. It’s a wonder she didn’t weigh five hundred pounds, what with all the sugar she took in during her pregnancy with you.

I don’t really know exactly how it came to be, but somehow, right after you were born, Jenny Lee became Jellybean. Your daddy said you were as cute and sweet as a little jellybean, and since that was what you were made of, that was what you should be called. Then your daddy and your Grandpa Jack shortened it to Beanie, and before long, everyone was calling you that.

Your poor momma tried to get us to use your real name, but it was too much fun to say “Beanie.” It suited you just fine, and you never seemed to mind. In fact, I often wondered whether you even knew what your given name was.

But we all knew when you were in trouble, now didn’t we? That was the only time I ever heard your daddy holler, “Miss Jenny Lee!”

Whenever he called out for Miss Jenny Lee, we all thought, Run and hide, Beanie. We may not know what you did, but one thing we knew for sure was that you were in big trouble.

And oh, how you stole our hearts away, little girl. You especially knew just how to get to your grandpa’s heart. He would have done anything in the world for you, Beanie.

But what he did for you was end your life.

That’s not how anyone else saw it, that’s for sure, but that’s how Jack saw it. It breaks my heart into a million pieces when I think about that day. I put it out of my mind for a good long time, you know, so I don’t understand what happened or why, but that day on the bridge, it all came crashing down around me, and there it was.

I don’t know how long I sat there and cried, but I cried my heart out—for you, for Jack, for Itsy, for all of us.

Nothing was ever the same after that. No one wanted to be there any longer.

I did, though.

I knew you didn’t blame your grandpa or anyone else. It was an accident, but my Lord, what a terrible accident.

And wasn’t it such a silly thing? Jack was always looking for ways to entertain you grandkids, and you all loved to ride on anything we could pull behind the boat. He had been keeping his eye out for something all of you could ride on at once, all together, you know?

So when his pilot friend called to say he had an airplane fuel tank that he figured about six kids could fit on at one time, Jack was thrilled. It was nearly ten feet long and broad enough for half a dozen children to climb aboard. A valve stuck out about five inches from the underside. Empty of gasoline, the tank would float as long as that valve was kept shut tight.

All Jack could think about was hooking up that tank and pulling all the grandkids around the lake. It would be like a toboggan for the water instead of the snow. He was so excited to get it.

I have to say, though, it was the ugliest thing I’d ever seen floating in our beautiful lake. It was a hideous green and gray, and it was downright frightening to me.

But you kids could hardly wait.

How old were you then, Beanie? Nine, ten?

“I was eleven, Nanna.”

Eleven.

Well, no one could ever convince Jack that it wasn’t his fault.

Your mother said she should have insisted you take off the T-shirt you were wearing that day before getting into the water. It was wound so tightly around that horrible valve that your little body was pressed against the underside of the tank. We figured you must have fallen forward, and when the tank passed over you, the valve somehow caught your shirt.

There you were, our little mermaid, the best swimmer of the bunch, bound up tight to the underside of the beast. And we couldn’t get you loose from it, Beanie.

It wouldn’t let you go.

Poor Jack. He stopped living that day, you know. He packed up and left the cabin, our beautiful lake, and our moon, and he never returned. I tried so hard over the years to get him to come back with me, even if just for a day. But he couldn’t do it, Beanie.

If I pushed him a bit, his eyes filled with tears and his chin quivered when he tried to talk. It broke my heart, so I stopped asking.

Your momma and daddy promised him they didn’t blame him and that they loved him just as much as ever. They begged him to get help.

Itsy was carrying a grief no mother should ever have to bear, yet she still tried to save her father from his. I watched my daughter mourn her child while pleading with Jack to understand that she had not lost her love for him too. But guilt had closed his ears to all of us.

You know your grandfather. He was a stubborn man, that husband of mine was.

He lost so much weight, Beanie. There were times when I thought he might simply starve himself to death. I prayed every day for that man. I prayed he could find a way out of the darkness, out of the prison of guilt he held himself in.

This is awful to say, Beanie, but when he died, I felt a kind of relief. I knew that he would finally find peace and forgiveness. I knew The Lord was waiting for him, to mend his broken heart and ease his troubled soul.

I’m happy for Jack now.

So there you were, your little body limp in the water, and your long strawberry hair floating out from under that ugly tank. I don’t know what we would have done if the Robinsons hadn’t been out that day.

Mack Robinson was there, calling for an ambulance and moving Jack and your momma and daddy away from you so he could try to get you untangled. He was an angel sent from God that day, keeping his voice steady and quiet and strong.

He was so gentle with your little body when he finally cut you loose.

And it was Mack who pulled that horrible monster out around the cliffs a few nights later, late at night, and sank it. Sank it so none of us would ever have to lay eyes on it again. Sank it in the deepest part of the lake, down there with the rusted-out old cars and the bus.

Down there with the rest of the monsters that had claimed lives.

Oh, Beanie. Life took such a turn for the worse after that. It was several years before anyone but me ventured out to the cabin. It was so abandoned and neglected. You just can’t imagine what it was like to open the place up again.

I did it alone. It took days, and I had to ask for some help from the neighbors, but it all got done, and the place was as beautiful as ever.

And I felt you there. I felt your presence. I felt your smile and your laughter and your love for all of us and for our little piece of paradise.

I knew that if you could, you would have told everyone to celebrate your life and quit mourning your death.

Enough is enough.

But the others, they don’t see things our way, Beanie. I wish they did.

Now they’re all upset with me for taking a simple walk that day. Just to revisit my old bridge, just to reconnect with the birds and the willows and the forest—all that I’d been so desperately missing.

“Tell me more, Nanna. What happened after you cried over me?”

Adeline continues next week with Chapter Eight.