Missing Persons

Content note: this story contains themes of domestic violence.

“Hey, Nana?” Vivian called up the stairs. “I found a box labeled ‘Amber.’ Who is she?”

There was a long beat, then she heard her grandmother’s slippers shuffle across the floor. A hefty shadow wearing a housedress materialized in the doorway. “You’re gonna hafta come up here to talk about Amber,” she replied. She shuffled back to the kitchen, and Vivian glanced down at the weathered cardboard box in front of her. She had never heard the name “Amber” in her 25 years of life.

She had been searching Nana's dim, chilly basement for her mother’s high school clothes when she noticed the box on a rickety shelf. She wrestled it down and placed it on the floor, then knelt and opened the flaps. The box held 4 large accordion folders, the kind she used at her paralegal job, and a composition notebook, its marbled black and white cover smooth and bare. A lone cassette tape rested at the bottom, its plastic case cracked and scratched. She flipped through the book and saw that it was filled with neat handwriting in blue ink, each entry dated. A journal, she thought to herself. She then opened the folders and rifled through the papers inside: court documents. Her eyebrows furrowed. She sat cross-legged on the cold concrete floor and opened the notebook.

June 14, 2000

Well, I think I met the man of my dreams. His name’s Jerry, and he has just about swept me off my feet. I was sitting at the bar at Louie’s with my sister and we were talking about my horrible ex, and the ugly breakup we had, and Jerry must have overheard us, because he bought me a drink, and he said to me, “Amber, your ex must be the world’s biggest loser for leaving such a pretty girl.” He’s soooo sweet! He took me to that fancy French restaurant in town last night, and we had such a good time. He’s quite the gentleman, opening my car door for me, making sure I ordered anything I wanted, including dessert. He said he wants to take me to Las Vegas. I’ve never even been on a plane before – I can’t wait to see someplace other than boring old Oklahoma. With the daycare starting to take off and a new man, I think my luck is really turning around!

August 28, 2000

Things with Jerry just couldn’t be better! I basically moved into his house, which is great, because I know 23 is too old to still be living with your mama. He treats me like a princess: brings me flowers every week, buys me clothes and jewelry. At night, while we lie in bed, he holds me in his strong arms and strokes my face so tenderly, and he tells me that I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. I like that he’s a little older too. Guys in their 30s are real men, with real jobs, and real priorities. We’re flying first class to Vegas next month, and staying at some big resort. I can’t wait!

October 3, 2000

Well, I’m a married woman! Jerry and I eloped while in Vegas. I am over the moon happy!!! It’s a little sad that Mama and Sis couldn’t be there, but we are just so in love, Jerry insisted that we just do it. Maybe we’ll start thinking about kids soon, I don’t know. I’m just going to enjoy this honeymoon phase for now!

December 26, 2000

I have to say, married life is definitely harder than I expected it to be. I’ve been so busy keeping the house nice and clean for Jerry, and making his favorite meals, and running his errands. He said he needs me around, so I sold the daycare, which is too bad, because I really enjoyed taking care of the little ones, and helping their hard-working parents. I really felt that I was making a big difference in our small community.

We had a quiet Christmas – I didn’t spend it with Mama and Sis like usual. Jerry said he wanted to keep it just us – “our new family." Mama gave me a hard time about that – she told me my father used to do stuff like that too, then it turned out he wasn’t good for us, with the whippings and beatings and all. But Jerry’s the best, he would never hurt me.

He got me a cell phone for Christmas, one of those new portable things that you can carry around with you while you run your errands. He said he wants to hold onto it though, and give it to me only when I really need it, because he’s kinda worried about the radiation they give off. He wants to keep me healthy, for when we start to have babies. He’s always thinking of me – he’s such a sweetheart.

January 15, 2001

New year, new life! Jerry’s talking about moving us to Texas, where he can get a better job, make more money. He wants a big, sprawling ranch with lots of land. I told him I’m fine with that, but Mama and Sis seem a little worried, especially after I skipped Christmas to be alone with Jerry. Sis is expecting her little girl, and she was hoping I’d stay local, so that I could help her with the baby. She’s going to name her Vivian - she told me the other day when I ran into her at the grocery.

Vivian’s eyes widened: Amber was her aunt. Why had she been kept a secret? She flipped to the next page.

February 3, 2001

Our move to Texas couldn’t have gone smoother, but as we were unloading the van I accidentally dropped a box of dishes and two of them broke. I could tell it upset Jerry – he didn’t speak to me for two days. I apologized and everything, but it didn’t matter. We finally made up in the bedroom, even though I wasn’t really feeling romantic.

We moved into a big ranch in the middle of nowhere, just like Jerry wanted. Our house isn’t really near any neighbors, but it’s pretty out here, all rolling plains and stony gray mountains off in the distance. And Jerry showed me his shotgun, which will keep us safe from any predators or trespassers. I think we’ll be happy.

February 5, 2001

I’m not sure I can talk to anyone about this, but it’s been bothering me, so I’ll write it here.

The other night, I was cleaning the kitchen after dinner, and Jerry noticed a spot of spaghetti sauce that I had missed. Before I could grab the sponge and wipe it up, he smacked me right across the face. Stars sparked in my eyes for a moment, and it stung something terrible. I raised my hand to my cheek and felt the warmth, then Jerry was suddenly hulking over me. His chest was heaving and his face was beet red with anger. That’s when I started crying, and he just completely melted. He kept saying, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that, I love you so much.” He held me as I sobbed, and I eventually felt better. I know he didn’t do it on purpose – I just have to be a better wife.

February 9, 2001

Well, Jerry came home from the job search today in a foul mood and started drinking in the mid-afternoon. By dinnertime, he was pretty sloshed, and when I asked him for my cell phone, he laughed at me. “What, you think you could have that whenever you want?” he asked with an evil glint in his eye. “That phone is paid for with my money, so you get it when I decide.” He then pressed his meaty hand against my neck and said through gritted teeth, “If you ever dare ask my permission again, you’re gonna wish with your life that you hadn’t.” I was having trouble breathing, and started gasping, and that’s when he let go. I know my father used to do stuff like this to Mama, and I’ll never forget the whippings he gave me when I forgot to do my homework. Until he was gone, at least.

I'll be sure to wear a turtleneck for the next few days.

February 27, 2001

This month has been absolute hell. Jerry’s finally gotten a job, but for some reason he’s still taking out all his frustration on me. A black eye and a loose molar, because I burnt the potatoes. Gripping my wrists when I told him I wasn’t in the mood for bedroom stuff, and then he forced himself on me anyway. I think he gave me a concussion last week – I felt dizzy after he pushed me into the wall. I used the pay phone by the grocery to call the police, but I was put on hold for so long and ran out of quarters, so I had to hang up. I don’t know what to do. I feel really lost, and lonely.

March 4, 2001

I ransacked the house but couldn’t find my cell phone. I’m getting desperate – I need to call Mama or Sis for help, but we don’t have a landline yet, and Jerry’s taken away all the change, so I can’t use a payphone. This journal is all I have right now. I’m hiding it in the linen closet, a place he’ll never look – he expects me to do all the housework, and the cooking, and nothing else. I have no friends, and Mama and Sis are miles away in Oklahoma. I cry every day, and I’m getting really scared.

April 27, 2001

Jerry’s been better but I’m still getting beat to a pulp. Earlier this week, I missed my period, and a pregnancy test turned positive. But before I could tell him, he pushed me down the stairs, and I bled the next day. I’m certain the baby’s gone.

I'm not sure I can live like this.

Vivian closed the notebook with trembling hands and placed it back in the box. Her heart hammered in her chest and her breathing felt shallow. She exhaled and trudged up the stairs. Nana was sitting at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette and reading a Harlequin romance novel. Late afternoon sunlight spilled over the table, casting a vibrant warmth. Vivian sat down and looked at Nana, her hands resting in her lap.

“Tell me about Amber,” she said softly.

Nana’s eyes remained on her book, and she tapped her cigarette onto a paper plate. The remains of a ham sandwich lay adjacent to a small collection of ash. “Amber was your mama’s younger sister,” she started. “Is. She is your mama’s younger sister. Amber’s incarcerated at a women’s prison in Texas. She’s serving a life sentence without parole.”

Vivian blinked, startled. “What did she do?” she asked.

Nana closed her book and placed it on the table. She looked at Vivian, her crystal blue eyes heavy with sorrow. “She killed her husband with his own shotgun. You were just a baby. We thought it was best for you not to know that your aunt was branded a murderer.” She paused for a moment and looked out the window. Sparrows swarmed the birdfeeder in the backyard, their wings fluttering neatly in the golden glow. “I think we also felt a deep sense of shame that we couldn’t protect her. So we decided to let her go, for the good of the family.”

Vivian shook her head. “But I don’t understand. I read her journal. Her husband was abusing her. How did she get in trouble for protecting herself?”

Nana shrugged and looked back at her granddaughter. “The system does not favor women, Vivian. Even the ones who are just trying to keep themselves safe. We hear about standing your ground. Men can do that, why can’t women?” She pursed her lips and took a drag off her cigarette. Smoke billowed around her, but Vivian thought she saw faint tears in Nana’s eyes before she blinked them away. “Did you find what you came here for?”

Vivian thought for a moment. “Maybe,” she responded. “Hey, what’s on the tape?”

Nana cocked her head. “It’s a recording that couldn’t get submitted to evidence for some reason. Amber said it would have exonerated her, but the jurors never heard it. Don’t remember why.”

“Do you have a tape player?” Vivian asked.

Nana chuckled. “Girl, it’s somewhere down there. Good luck finding it.” She stubbed out her cigarette and opened her book.

Vivian stood and started heading towards the basement stairs, but stopped in the doorway. “Nana, what about you? How’d you escape my grandfather?”

Nana sighed and her shoulders sagged. She lit a fresh cigarette and took a long drag, talking as she exhaled. “He was a bad man. Just like Jerry. My neighbor was the town sheriff. One night he heard your grandfather hootin’ and hollerin’ and he came over with his pistol. He told your grandfather to leave town, and that if he ever showed his face again, he’d be shot dead.” She smiled sadly. “I thought I broke the cycle getting rid of that man. Guess I was wrong. Now go find that tape player for me, will ya?”

Vivian unearthed an old boombox from behind a stack of musty blankets. She plugged it in and pulled the cassette case out of the box. The label read “May 6, 2001” in faintly written pencil.

The tape held a single recorded conversation. When it was over, her arms were littered with goosebumps, and her stomach roiled. She took the entire box to her office and transcribed the recording there.

JERRY: You know why I do it, right?

AMBER: No, why do you do it, Jerry?

JERRY: It’s because you make me so goddamn mad. You do this to me. If only you could just listen for once in your goddamn life, I wouldn’t have to be so goddamn cruel. A woman needs to be hit in order to listen.

AMBER: What about my cell phone? My car keys? Why did you take those?

JERRY: Those are intended for women who behave. Those are luxuries. I don’t need you running around town, getting distracted. If only you did a better job here at home, then you’d be allowed to have those back. I’m keeping them for now.

AMBER: Okay, Jerry. You keep them. But what happens if I don’t get better?

JERRY: Amber, if you don’t get better, I’m not afraid to end your sorry, good for nothing life.

Jerry was found dead and Amber was arrested on May 9, 2001, according to the court documents.

Vivian lifted the box and carried it to her boss’s office. She shifted the box onto one hip and knocked on the door with her free hand. The door’s nameplate glinted in gold: “David Green, Esq.”

“Come in,” Mr. Green called. Vivian turned the doorknob and entered the office. A stack of folders sat precariously on one side of Mr. Green’s desk, and his desktop computer and family photos sat on the other side. A large picture window framing the back wall displayed a gray sky, sunlight struggling to break through heavy clouds. Mr. Green was typing furiously on his keyboard when he looked up and smiled. “Oh, hi, Vivian,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

Vivian placed the box on one empty chair and sat in the other. “I think I have a case that needs an appeal. It’s for family. Do you have a moment to review it?” She took a deep breath and handed him the notebook.