Treasures

Little was said when they left for the airport that evening. That sense of urgency that had washed over Travis penetrated Janie and the Johnsons. It seemed they had no time to spare. When they arrived at the trailer park where Meaghan Chastain lived with her daughters, they were overwhelmed with gratitude mingled with concern. As dilapidated as the trailer looked from the outside, the soft glow from the lights inside and the sounds of laughter and song greeted the Callahans.

“It’s getting late. Tonight wouldn’t be a good time to meet her. I’m sure her children have school in the mornin’.” Janie said gently.

“I have her number.” Travis pulled out the envelope with Meaghan’s story and information in it.

“Maybe invite her to breakfast.”

“Yes.” Travis cleared his throat and dialed the number on his cell phone. His hand was shaking so much. Janie reached out and put her hand gently on his leg.

“Hello?” A child answered the phone.

“Hello, my name is Travis Callahan. May I speak with Meaghan Chastain please?” His voice was calm and collected, Janie always was able to give him strength where his own failed him.

“Yes, just a minute…Momma, someone on the phone for you!” Eight-year old Samantha called out. She was loud enough that the Callahan’s could hear her outside in their car. Travis looked down and took his wife’s hand in his. The paper thin walls gave away the enthusiasm of a child. It was bittersweet. He wondered if they were warm enough in there.

“Thank you, darlin’. Get ready for bed.”

“But Momma! I wanna finish my story.” Samantha was getting ready for a right royal tantrum, but the stern look on her mother’s face silenced her. “Fine, but I’m not gonna like it.”

“That’s the beauty of freedom, honey. We don’t have to like everything.” Meaghan kissed the top of her daughter’s head and turned her attention to the phone.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Chastain, this is Travis Callahan. I received a copy of your children’s story today, and I would like to meet with you tomorrow morning to discuss it.”

“Oh, yes of course,” Meaghan stammered. She could hardly hold a thought in her head. She had sent fifty copies of that story out only a month before. She didn’t expect any response until at least summer.

“I drop my daughters off at school at eight, I can meet with you after that,” Meaghan continued as calmly as she could. Samantha, hearing her mother’s tone change, whispered for her sister, Stephanie, to come to the living room. Both girls sat on the well-worn couch. Their momma was as white as a sheet.

“How’s 8:30 at the Bridge sound?”

“I’ll be there, sir. I look forward to meeting you.”

“Very good then. See you in the morning.” Travis hung up. He couldn’t wait for her reply. Tears that had been buried for too long were simmering, aching for release. He looked at his wife.

“If she looks like her, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself together,” he said quietly.

Janie hadn’t considered the possibility that Meaghan might look like their daughter, Rebecca. “She may resemble Rebecca in spirit, but she is Meaghan. You’ll know the difference when you meet her. Let’s get going. You’ll need a good night’s rest for tomorrow.” Janie kissed his cheek. Janie entertained the thought that had been on Travis’ mind since he first read Meaghan’s story. Maybe they would not only get Papaw’s story told, but they might also find out what happened to Rebecca. A fresh pair of eyes was likely all that was needed to point them in the right direction, or any direction at this point.