Sometime in the late afternoon, the sun dipped down on the horizon and bathed my apartment in the last bit of weak light. We had spent several hours working our way through the last boxes, and I was taking a break while Jana went through the final file box. My phone rang at the same time that Jana said, “Pale. You need to see this.”
I gestured with my hand that I’d be one minute, and flipped open the phone.
“Hello?”
“Is this Pale Baumann?” a strange voice inquired.
“Yes. Who is this?” I asked, guarded.
Jana frantically waved some papers at me then walked over and thrust them under my nose.
“This is David Cliffstone. I’m calling from the Northern Californian Life Insurance Company. I want to express my condolences and make an appointment with you to discuss your father’s estate.”
I stared numbly at the papers in my hand. I felt slightly light-headed as I tried to read them. “What?” I said into the phone.
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“This is in regard to your father’s estate and will,” David said patiently.
“My father doesn’t have an estate. He has a house in Modesto that hasn’t seen good taste since 1976. I’m not aware of a will,” I said faintly.
Jana shook her head vigorously and pointed at the papers in my hand. I focused away from David’s legal talk, and saw the words “Last Will and Testament” across the top of a copy. I dropped the papers and the phone and sank down to the floor. Jana crossed the room quickly and scooped up the phone.
“I’m sorry. Pale’s not prepared to talk right now. We are still recovering from the last few weeks. I’m her best friend Jana, can I help you?” Jana scribbled a few notes hastily on the pizza box nearby while she watched me anxiously.
“Great. She’ll be there. And thank you.” She hung up and leaned down.
“Are you all right?”
“I don’t think I am. I can’t take any more of this, Jana. What’s next? Are you going to tell me I’m really a Black kid from Detroit, or that Darth Vader was my father?”
I buried my head in her arms and cried out my loneliness, frustration, grief and shock all at the same time. I felt the waves trying to pull me under, and I wanted so much to believe my life would go back to normal one day. All my earlier bravado had faded. I just wanted to crawl under a rock and die.
Jana helped me up, and got me into bed. She went into the bathroom and found some over-the-counter sleeping pills. Jana gave me two to knock me out. She sat with me, cuddling, murmuring kind words and reassurances until my head felt drowsy and heavy. I sensed her leave the bed and turn on the TV. She curled into the chair and watched me out of the corner of her eye. I drifted off dreamlessly.