The library vibrated with the anxious silence
of finals week, and in the confined late-spring air there was a faint but
pungent odour of too many people and too little showering.
Beth tried to block her nose from the inside,
to little avail. She wanted to find an open desk, but her luck did not seem to
be in, and she resigned herself to a spot on the floor, books spread around,
back growing stiffer by the hour.
She turned to scan the study room one last
time, and saw him, just a few feet away. Leaning back in one of the few and
prized cozy circular carrels, ballcap tilted forward, blond hair tousled over
his shoulders…asleep, as usual.
Just like every day in o-chem, in the back
row, chair propped back against the wall, skateboard leaning next to him. The
chair had slipped, once, and she remembered the clatter of that day.
The Dude, for that was what she thought of
him, could at least have had the decency to doze somewhere else, and leave a
seat open for…
Not asleep. One eye opened, and seeing Beth,
he smiled. “Pssst!”
Beth shifted her bookbag from her right
shoulder to her left, and returned the smile, faintly.
“You look like you need a place to sit.”
Beth shook her head. “Just stretching my
legs. It’ll be a long night.”
The Dude closed the single book on the small
built-in desk, took an illicit can of
soda from under the seat, and stood. “Then this one’s up for grabs.” He looked
at Beth more closely. “I know you.”
“O-chem.”
“Riiiight.
Front row. Got it. But you…something’s different. Your hair?”
Feeling her face warm, Beth shook her head,
still unaccustomed to the lack of her long auburn hair. “I had it cut. For
summer.”
The Dude nodded. “Looks OK.”
“Thanks.”
“Looks better short.”
Beth felt the warmth in her face increase.
“Well, I guess I’ll take the seat, if you’re going.”
“Sure.” The Dude moved out of the way, soda
in one hand, book forgotten on the desk.
“Uh, your book…” Beth pointed.
“Oh, yeah. Don’t want to leave that.” He
picked it up. “It’s a good read.”
Beth tilted her head to read the title…Two Years Before The Mast, by Richard
Henry Dana. “You’re not studying? Just reading?”
The Dude raised his eyebrows,”One more night
of organics won’t help me pass.”
Sliding her bookbag onto the carrel’s floor,
Beth said, Well…good luck.” Then she put out her hand. “I’m Beth. Beth
Collins.”
“OK, Beth Collins.”
“What’s your name?” Beth already knew; it was
a small class in a small school. She wanted to hear him say it.
“Make it TJ.”
“Just TJ?” She tried to keep from smiling.
The Dude sighed. “Tiberias Jeremiah Johnson.
TJ’s better.”
Now Beth released the smile. “Tiberias?”
“My parents were teachers here, classics.”
“And Biblical Studies?”
TJ shook his head. “No, they were hippies,
too. Jeremiah’s from the song, you know? ‘Jeremiah was a bullfrog…’ Three Dog
Night?”
“Oh, my!” Beth tried to keep from laughing.
“Yeah. I guess they liked the movie, too,
with Robert Redford? Jeremiah Johnson?”
Beth shook her head. “I’ve never seen it.”
“You should. It’s a classic.”
He wasn’t smiling now, and Beth caught
something in his face. “Wait…I don’t mean to pry, but you said they liked…”
TJ nodded. “Past tense. They’re dead.”
“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean…” She bit her
lip. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey. It’s OK. Well, sometimes it’s OK.” He
moved to leave. “Well, it was good to meet you, Beth Collins. Finally.”
Finally?
What did he mean by that?And the way he said my name, as if he liked it..?
“So why’d you choose chemistry?” The question
was out before Beth realized it.
TJ had turned away, then turned back. “I have
no idea. I just do what I do, I guess, until I figure it out.”
Beth frowned. “Don’t you know what you want
to do with your life?”
“When I grow up? No. Not really.” He
hesitated. “I like to sail.”
“Sail?”
“I have a boat. I live on it, actually.”
“Wow.” Beth had never met anyone who lived on
a boat, and she was still very young.
“My parents died at sea. They wanted to sail
to Hawaii. They didn’t make it.”
“So how can you…”
“Still go out? Call of the sea, or
something.” He waved Richard Henry Dana’s timeless book. “Romance,
whatever. I try not to think about it
much.”
“Wow,” Beth said again, and winced. She knew
how young she sounded.
“You could come along, sometime. If you
want.”
“I can’t. My boyfriend…”
“He can come too. It’s a big enough boat.”
“He gets seasick.” Beth tried not to giggle,
and failed completely.
TJ gave a small smile, and nodded. “Well, I
guess not…”
“I guess…” said Beth, but he had turned and
was gone.
When Beth returned to her dorm room, her mind
was elsewhere, and at first she didn’t notice the note taped to her door, in
her roomate’s familiar handwriting telling her to phone an unfamiliar College
number.
When
you get this note, call. Em was not one to waste words.
Beth opened the door, and from the darkness
of the room came Emily’s sleepy voice. “Beth? I’ll be right there…”
The floor phone was on a desk at the end of
the hallway. Emily appeared as Beth picked up the receiver and dialed.
It was nearly midnight, and the voice on the
other end of the line sounded tired. “Laughlin.”
“Hi, this is Beth Collins…I had a note to
call this number…”
“Beth, yes…this is Gerry Laughlin…I’m the
Dean of Students...”
What
have I done? Am I in trouble?
“I need to speak to you, right now…can you
meet me outside the front lobby of your…uh, Hagen Hall? Your dorm?” It was a
womens’ residence.
“Sure. Yes. OK. I’ll go right down. We’ll go
right down.” Beth tried to keep the nervousness out of her voice, and her hands
still shook.
She looked to her taller friend, with a
question in her eyes.
Emily said, “He wouldn’t tell me.”
Five minutes later a large red-faced man in a
hastily-thrown-on suit coat, accompanied by a petite woman she took to be his
wife, approached the girls from the warm night. “Beth? Gerry Laughlin…my wife,
Bea…look, I’m very sorry, but there’s been an accident. Your father…well...
accident at his factory? Bad accident.”
The Collins family business was a small
machine shop. Yes. An accident. Beth winced. “Is he all right?”
Bea Laughlin took Beth’s hands. “No, dear.
He’s not going to be all right. You need to go home now.”
Emily gasped.
The unspoken words hung in the air, If you want to say goodbye.
Beth didn’t hear them. “My exams…”
Gerry Laughlin shook his head. “That’s taken
care of. You have a fine record, and you’re getting your final grades on that
basis. Straight A’s.” He hesitated, and said awkwardly. “Well done, young
lady.”
“I’ll go pack, and then..?” The reality was
sinking in, and Beth felt her mouth dry. Something was happening. Her world had
changed.
“No, dear.” Bea moved to put an arm around
the girl’s shoulders. “The College charterd a plane; it’s waiting. I’ll be
flying home with you. We’ll have your things packed and sent along.”
“I’ll do it,” came Emily’s voice, as if from
far, far away.
Beth closed her eyes, and had a sudden
incongruous feeling of being on a boat, salt spray in her face, the deck moving
beneath her feet.
And then the deck came up to hit her in the
face, for she had fainted.
The next morning, TJ Johnson walked into the
small bright classroom in which the organic chemistry final would be held, and
noticed who was not in the front row.
Strange.
She’s usually ahead of time.
The exam started, and the seat TJ watched
remained vacant.
It was vacant at the end, and when TJ walked
bemusedly from the room, a tall redheaded girl approached him, and tentatively
asked, “Are you TJ?”
“Yeah. Do I..?”
“I’m Emily, Beth’s roommate? Beth Collins?”
“She wasn’t here for…is she OK?”
Emily shook her head. “She had to fly home
last night. Some…family problems.” She looked as if she was about to say more,
and then did not.
“Oh. I’m sorry. I don’t know her, not
really…but…well, if there’s anything…”
The girl frowned, and blinked. “No. Well,
yes. Before she left, she asked me to give you something.”
Then she stepped close, kissed TJ lightly on
the cheek, and walked quickly away.
Thirty
Years On
Once
she had seen the house, perched a bit precariously on a ridge overlooking the
broad sun-splashed bay, Bethany Collins Yang knew it was the place she had to
live, for the rest of her days. It called to her.
“Mom,
wow…” Ronnie Yang’s passenger-side window hissed down, and he moved to get a
better view. “The pictures didn’t do it justice.”
He
turned to her, and in his eyes she saw his father’s impish spirit, and keen
business sense. “Well done.” They shook
hands in mock seriousness, and then he hugged her.
Beth
felt a surge of joy, and a bit of pride. “That means a lot. Thanks.”
She
pulled the Mercedes into the driveway, next to the realtor’s crew taking down
the ‘For Sale’ sign. One of the men walked over. “Are you the happy new owner?”
“I
am.”
He
held out the ‘Sold!” sign, smiling. “Souvenir.”
Beth
took it, and said, “I can really have this?”
A
part of her was still very young.
A
car horn sounded behind them. “Mom!”
While
Ronnie was the image of his father, with straight black hair and ark eyes,
Clarissa took after Beth, with auburn lights in her hair, and paler skin than
her brother.
She
came running up the drive, followed more slowly by her husband Dave. Dave was
not moving as fast because he carried baby Rex, Beth’s first grandchild.
“It’s
just, oh, fabulous, just…right, Dave? Fabulous?”
Dave
brushed his hair out of his eyes, an habitual gesture. “Fabulous. Good choice,
Mom.”
Ronnie
asked, “Where’s Dad’s study going to be? Ocean view?”
Beth
nodded, and pointed to the left-hand corner of the second story. “There, I
think. The bay’s visible from both windows, and there’s some north light.”
Her
children’s eyes followed her direction, and Ronnie moved onto the lawn for a
better look.
“Yeah,”
said Clarissa. “He’ll like that.”
The
kids went home, the movers came and went, and the house was bright and airy,
and it was then that Beth saw The Eye.
She
was walking in the landscaped yard (the previous owners’ gardeners stayed on
the job, for continuity) and was enjoying the low buzz of the bees among the
small stand of lemon trees when she looked north, to the privacy fence.
And
there, peering through a knothole, was an eye.
It
quickly vanished, when it caught her return gaze.
Probably a child.
She’d
asked about the neighbours, but the estate agent had given her a rueful shrug.
“We can’t talk about neighbours or neighbourhoods any more. You know how it
is.”
“Actually,”
Beth said, “I didn’t know that.”
The
agent looked around (which wasn’t necessary, but the theatrics were
appreciated) and said in a low tone, “Nice people around here. Quiet. You’ll
like them.”
She
might have mentioned the peeping child.
The
next day, she saw The Eye again. It was blue, and bright.
This
time, Beth strode to the fence, and with a leap levered herself up to peer over
the top, straight into the upturned laughing face of an Australian Shepherd.
“Woof!”
“And
hello to you, too,” Beth said. She hung on the fence for a moment, enjoying the
guilty pleasure of looking into a neighbour’s yard for the first time.
It
was neat but unostentatious, save for some examples of amateur topiary. She saw
a bush that looked like to could be either a lion rampant, or a ballerina. She
couldn’t tell which.
There
was a basketball backboard, with a bare hoop.
Under
the Aussie’s gaze she dropped back to her own side, and brushed her hands
against her jeans.
Smiling,
she looked up to Chia-Ming’s study window, and waved.
The
wave carried across the years, and across the miles.
And
if only he were alive to wave back.
She
saw the neighbours to the south often; a large and cheerful family, with cars
and motorcycles and young people and grandparents coming and going, and occasionally
stopping to chat at the mailbox.
But
to the north, there was a bit of mystery. The house was well-kept, and the dog
was friendly, but whoever lived there was rarely seen, driving out from the
garage, and coming back the same way, with the automatic closer keeping the
secret.
The
only thing Beth could say for sure was that the resident was female, from the
silhouette she sometimes saw in the modest silver sedan.
There
was an occasional delivery of medical gasses, and sometimes an unmarked van.
Mysteries
are beguiling, and sometimes the key is right before one’s eye.
And
so Beth bought a large box of dog biscuits, and when she saw The Eye, she would
throw one or two over the fence. and listened to the delighted munching from
the unseen side. She never climbed up for another look; that would have been
crass, but the quiet human presence to the north would one day take notice, and
she might well find Beth’s indirect overture a subject of interest.
But
in many ways, Beth was still very young.
One
day, The Eye became a Voice.
“You’re
making my dog fat.” The words reproved, but there was high bright laughter in
them.
“Sorry,”
said Beth. “He watches me every day.”
“Oh,
that’s all right. I think you’re the highlight of his day. He’s Rufus, by the way.”
“I’m
Bethany.” It was strange talking to someone she couldn’t see, but whose voice
she liked.
“Hi,
Bethany, I’m Aubrey. You’re pretty.”
The
Blue Eye had been replaced by a brown one, and there was a laugh.
Beth
blushed, and said, “Well, thanks.” She cast for something else to say. “I just
moved in. Have you lived here long?”
“I
don’t really live here. I’m a hospice nurse; I’m here all the time, now.”
“Oh…”
“Do
you play Scrabble?”
Strange
question. “Sure. Why?”
My
charge, she really likes to play, and I’m not all that good. Maybe someday, if
you have time…” There was emotion and appeal in Aubrey’s voice.
“I’d
love to. Can you let me know when?
“How
about now?”
“I’ll
meet you at the front door?”
Aubrey
laughed again. “Unless you want to climb the fence.”
Never
one to resist a challenge, Beth climbed, and was met by Rufus’ rough paws and
lolling tongue, and by Aubrey’s smile, bright in a dark mahogany face.
“So…Bethany?”
Aubrey put out her hand. “Thank you for this. Really.”
“It’s
no trouble. I like Scrabble.”
“So
do I, but we’ve played so much…she knows most of my vocabulary. She’s good at
blocking me.”
Beth
smiled. “We’ll see how it goes. I’m not all that great at it, but I’ve always
enjoyed the game.”
“Aubrey!”
It was something between a cackle and a shout, from the house.
“Coming!”
“Who
is that person standing in my yard?”
Aubrey
answered, soothingly, “It’s your new neighbor, ma’am. She’s come to play
Scrabble with you.”
“Does
she not know how to ring a doorbell?”
Aubrey
looked at Beth, and giggled. “She likes to climb fences.”
“Huh!”
They
walked across the back lawn, and through a set of French doors, standing open
to admit the light breeze.
A
woman stood by a polished table, one hand on the back of a chair, the other
holding a cane for support.
The
breath choked in Beth’s throat. “Emily.”
Emily’s
hair was more grey than red, and her eyes held no recognition. “Yes.”
Aubrey
toughed Beth’s shoulder, very softly.
Beth
cleared her throat. “I’m Bethany. I just moved in next door.”
Emily
took a step forward, steadying herself on another chair. She extended a hand
with skin like old rice paper. “How do you do.”
“I’m
fine, thanks. Uh, how are you?” Beth felt like an idiot when the question came
out.
She
also felt a touch of abashment, for she never known that Emily was regal.
“Oh,
child, I’m dying. But for all that…Aubrey, would you set up the game?”
They
played for over an hour, and Emily’s spirit was bright and active. She won.
Beth
feigned frustration, and as Aubrey walked behind her chair the nurse patted her
shoulder.
“Bethany,
thank you for this.” Emily rose shakily to her feet. “Would you give me the
honour of helping me to my settee?”
“Uh,
sure.” What’s a settee?
Aubrey
pointed to a sofa in the next room, and Beth helped her old, old friend. Rufus
curled up at Emily’s feet.
“Thank
you, child. Will you come back tomorrow, to play again?”
Beth
swallowed a huge lump in her throat. “Yes. I’d love to.”
“Ah,
good.” Emily closed her eyes. “Then she opened them again, and looked at Beth.
“Please thank your husband for letting me take you away or the afternoon.”
“Actually,
I’m a widow.”
“My
child, I am so sorry. Come here.” Emily held out a regal arm, and Beth obeyed.
“Bend
down to me, child…yes.” Then she put her dry and formidable hand on Beth’s
forehead, and it felt like a blessing.
Aubrey
ushered Beth to the front door. No climbing fences, now. “I owe you an apology,”
the nurse said.
“Apology?
What? Why?”
“Look.
I just found out this morning that she was your roommate, in college, OK? I
should have told you. I couldn’t find the words.”
Beth
froze her face to contain the shock. “It’s OK.”
“No,
it’s NOT. I should have prepared you!” Aubrey was in tears.
“OK,
yeah, maybe.” Beth was back in control. “What’s done is done. I’m just glad to
help.”
“They
told me this morning. They said I should handle it.”
“You
did good.” Beth hugged the girl. “You did good.”
“You’ll
come back?”
“Yeah.”
“Child,
have you walked upon the water?”
Emily’s
question came out so naturally that Beth wasn’t sure that she had heard it
right. “Come again?”
“Have
you walked upon the water?” Emily was looing rom the Scrabble board to her
tiles.
“Well,
no. Not really. No.”
Emily
placed three tiles precisely, for a triple-word-score and another win. “Ah.
Pity.”
As
she was leaving, Beth said to Aubrey, in a low voice, “Emily had kind of a
strange question for me today.”
Aubrey
stifled a giggle. “’Have you walked upon the water?’”
Beth
nodded, somehow relieved that the query was just a tic in a dying mind.
“I
thought it was a weird thing to say.”
Smiling,
Beth nodded.
“Until
she showed me how.”
“Showed
you…um, what?”
“Well,
not walk, exactly.” Aubrey looked down, and smoothed her blouse. “But I did
stand an water in a bathtub.”
They
were at the door, and Beth bolted through it.
“You’ll
be back tomorrow?”
It
wasn’t easy to return to the House of Voodoo (as Beth nicknamed it in her
mind), but the bonds of old companionship are strong, and it seemed it just
couldn’t be an evil place, with its bright airy rooms and cheerful Australian
shepherd.
And
besides, Beth loved puzzles, for she was still very young.
As
Emily laid down another set of winning tiles, she asked, “Child, would you like
to walk upon the water?”
Beth
had been expecting some reference to the previous day’s conversation, but she
still started, and knocked over her glass of diet soda, ice cascading across
the Scrabble board. “No.”
“Why
on earth not?” Emily looked straight at her.
Beth
felt like she had just committed the worst of faux pas before the Queen of
England. “I just don’t…I’m not religious…I mean, I was, but…I know Jesus, and
the guy in the boat…”
“Peter.”
“Peter.
Right.”
“Are
you afraid you can’t, or are you afraid you can?”
Beth
had no answer to exactly the right question.
Emily
rose to her feet, with a steadiness that had not been there before. “Aubrey!
Run the bath, please.”
“Yes,
ma’am!”, from somewhere back in the house.
Beth
shook her head, almost violently. “No, I really have to go. I…”
Emily’s
face, which had been royally stern, softened. “We won’t hurt you, Bethany.”
“Of
course not,” Beth said. “I just really have to go.” In fact, Beth had a quick
vision of being hit over the head and drowned in the tub. Anything could
happen.
“Aubrey!”
Emily called again.
“Ma’am?”
“Dispense
with the bath. Fill two pails, please, and bring them to the front porch. “Will
you try this, Bethany, in public view?”
“I’m
not religious. I told you that.”
“Religion
has nothing to do with faith.”
“I’d
rather…well, all right.” Beth changed her mind because she had to believe in something,
and chose now to believe in friendship.
Beth
followed Emily to the door and onto the porch. From around the corner of the
garage Beth heard the bright sound of water being hosed into a pail.
Aubrey
appeared, lugging the water and grimacing as the wire bails pinched her hands.
She spilled a bit from one. Placing them on the porch, she said, “I’ll even
them up. Better footing for you.”
Beth
fought back an urge to laugh, and a stronger urge to run.
It
was such a normal day! The sun shone from a clear sky, the bay sparkled in the
distance, and among distant trees Beth could see the red-tile roofs of the
college where they had met.
Birds
sang.
“Step
in, child.” Emily’s voice was kind.
Beth
placed one foot in one bucket, and the other in the second one. Her feet, of
course, went all the way to the bottom, and the buckets’ sloping sides cramped
her toes. “I guess it didn’t work,” she said.
“Think
of Peter.”
Beth’s
mind went back, to a different Peter.
He
was still alive when Beth got there, and Bea Laughlin supported her at the
shoulder as they walked to the ICU.
A
doctor stopped them. “Bethany Collins? Peter’s daughter?”
Beth
nodded. Bea stepped away, to lean against a wall.
“What
happened?” Beth asked.
The
doctor shook his head, almost angrily. “A piece of steel in a lathe came apart.
The cutting tool hit a ‘granular inclusion’, they said…well, it was like
shrapnel.”
“Shrapnel?”
“Like
metal fragments from a bomb. Anyway, his aorta was lacerated, and there’s just
not enough to put back together. We…I tried. I really did. But he’s bleeding to
death, and we can’t stop it.”
“Transfusio..?”
“Everything
we put in comes back out. We’re transfusing him now, keep him alive until you
got here. But…no. I’m sorry. You better go in. He may know you’re there.” He
hesitated, and then opened his arms.
Beth
hugged him, hard. He smelled of sweat and aftershave and the coppery musk of
blood.
Beth’s
mother and sister were sitting in drawn-up chairs outside a curtained alcove.
Something was beeping. Their eyes were red and dry and exhausted. “Hurry,”
Beth’s mother said.
Bea
released her. “I’ll be right here.”
“Come
with me?” Beth had never seen death before, and she was scared. The older woman
ws a sudden intimate comfort.
Bea
looked to Beth’s mother for permission. “All right, Beth.” Her arm went around
the girl’s shoulders again.
Peter
Collins was a large tall man, but he was hidden beneath tented blankets and
bandages and tubes, and only his face was clear to see. He was wearing an
oxygen mask, and his eyes were closed. One hand lay on the edge of the bed.
“Daddy?”
“Take
his hand,” whispered Bea. “I’m right here.”
Beth
awkwardly went to one knee on the cool tiled floor, and took her father’s hand.
It was cool to her touch, and she knew what she did not want to know.
Tap.
His
finger moved slightly, a single light touch.
“Oh,
Daddy!”
The
tapping continued, alternating with slightly longer pressure.
Peter
Collins had been in the Navy, and he had taught his daughters More, and the
special Navy-speak abbreviations.
Their
secret language.
B.
Z.
Bravo
zulu. “Well done.”
Beth
put her free hand to her eyes.
The
tapping paused, then continued.
L.
O.
V.
And
then the finger relaxed, and a machine which had been beeping let go with a sad
flat final tone.
Beth
closed her eyes, and wept.
Bea
gasped, and pressed Beth’s shoulder, hard. “Look!”
A
light was moving, under the tent of blankets, under the bandages, toward Peter
Collins’ head.
And
there it paused, illuminating his dead features in the warm embrace of life…and
the light rose to the ceiling and vanished, leaving a small bright fading halo.
Beth
had closed her eyes, remembering.
And
now the water in which she stood organized itself, like warm ice forming
beneath her feet.
And
presently, she stood on its living surface.
And
then, the greater miracle.
“Beth?”
Emily
was back.
The
queen was gone, and the sparkling eyes of the college girl looked out from a
face that was lined, and circled in grey, but the eyes were happy.
For
how long? Even a minute was glorious. “Em!”
Frail
and familiar, Emily put her hand out to touch Beth’s cheek. “Oh, Beth.”
And
then she closed her eyes, and collapsed like house of cards, a happy smiling
falling flutter.
“I
think she just overdid it,” said Aubrey, after they had carried Emily to her
bed and tucked her in. “She’s fainted before. But I’ll get the doc to come
out.”
“Has
she…has this...?”
Aubrey
shook her head. “Not while I’ve been with her. She’s lucid and she does well
day-to-day, but she doesn’t remember her past. I know some of it, so I can help
if something comes back, but it’s never happened.”
“What
happened to her? Her life? We lost touch.”
“I
can’t tell you. HIPAA, privacy stuff, you know? I would if I could.”
Beth
sighed, hoping that her friend would wake, and could tell her.
Aubrey
touched her on the arm. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said softly.
“I
feel bad about this…the water thing…” Beth couldn’t bring herself to say
‘walking on water’; besides, she’d only stood on it. “It took too much out of
her.”
“What
do you mean?”
“She
used up, you now, the force, inside her…”
“Beth,
uh…no. It wasn’t her, that did it.”
Next
morning, Beth walked up to the door with trepidation as her companion.
Would
she meet Roomie Em, or Queen Emily?
Would
Emily even be awake?
As
Beth was about to knock, he heard a voice, behind the door, a male voice,
obviously talking on a phone.
“…yes.
The minute she wakes. I’ll let you know, Dad. And we’ll go from there…yeah, I
agree, God is great, OK?”
Beth
rapped on the door. It was opened by a bearded blond man in a ratty t-short and
a rattier ballcap.
“Well,
it’s good to see you, Beth Collins. Finally. Again.”
“TJ?
You remember…how?” Beth did not consider that her remembering TJ also meant
that he might remember her. “And what are you…here?” She felt queasy, and short
of breath.
TJ
smiled, and the years fell away. “Well, first, I’m here because I’m Em’s
husband.” He held up his left hand. “And second, Beth…how could I forget?”
“I
didn’t forget, either.”
“No.”
There
was an awkward silence, then TJ moved aside, saying, “Em’s not awake yet, but
come on in. If you’d like to.”
“Sure.”
Beth moved as if she were pushing her way through cobwebs. both hating the
feeling and savouring it, and she didn’t know why. “It’s Yang, now. Beth Yang.”
“I
know. I’m sorry, if my using your maiden name offended…and I’m so sorry for
your loss.” TJ looked over his shoulder as he led her to the dining room table,
on which the Scrabble board still rested. “Truly sorry.”
“I
wasn’t offended.” Dizzied, yes, by going
back in time to those words I’d held in my heart.
“Was
he the only who got seasick? The boyfriend?”
Beth
smiled. “He was. He…well, he really
stood by me when Daddy…my father…died. Stood by my family.”
“I’m
glad. Good men aren’t easy to find, or so they say.”
“My
family, my mom and sister, well, they were a bit worried at first.”
“Worried?
Why?”
“Well,
until they met him. They thought, maybe they’d have a hard time understanding
him, maybe he’d have a taste for weird food…”
“I
thought everyone loved Chinese!”
“Chia-Ming
didn’t. He was a burger-and-fries guy. And he spoke English better than they
did. He saved the shop, really. Turned us into a specialty place, making parts
for off-road bikes. We sold it after he died.”
“Do
you ride?” TJ sounded intrigued.
“I
tried a few times. Ronnie, my son, he’s really good.” She hesitated, and then
shyly went on. “We had, uh, have two kids, Ronnie and Clarissa. Clarissa just
had a baby. I’m a mimi.”
“A
what?”
“Grandmother.”
“Oh,
right…duh! Well, congratulations.” TJ pulled out a chair, and then moved to sit
opposite her. “Can I get you something? Coffee, soda, juice? Beer?”
“Beer
for breakfast?”
“Just
kidding, on that one.”
“Diet
anything would be great.”
TJ
got up, and went to the refrigerator. “Ice?”
“Please.
How about you? Do you have kids?”
TJ’s
back was to her, and he grew very still. “We had.”
The
word had was operative. “I’m sorry.”
“It
was a long time ago.”
He brought
back a drink for each of them, slid hers across the table, and sat down again.
He was still wearing the ballcap, and suddenly said, “Sorry, rude of me,” and
swept it from his head.
Beth
was prepared to wince; she knew that some men affected headwear to cover up
their balding, and she didn’t want to see The Dude of her memory looking middle-aged.
She closed her eyes, not intending to.
“Beth?
You can open your eyes.”
Relief.
He wasn’t bald, and only showed a bit of grey. Unlike me, but he’s not the type to colour it away. “Sorry.”
“Glad
you’re not going bald, either.”
Beth
felt her face grow warm. “The cap looks familiar.”
TJ
turned it over in his hands. “I saved it. For the memory.”
“The
time we talked? The library?”
He
nodded. “The one and only.”
Men do that? She changed the subject,
intentionally. “Why didn’t I see you here before? Em never mentioned a husband,
and Aubrey didn’t say anything.”
TJ
hesitated. “Beth, Em doesn’t know me. She gets…got..agitated when I was here,
so I pretty much stayed away. And Aubrey, well, she’s here because she’s good
at keeping things private. And a good nurse. Both.”
“So
you’re here now, because maybe, if she remembered me, she’ll remember you?”
“Bingo.”
“I
hope it works out.” She paused, not knowing how to go on. “There’s something I
need to tell you, about…”
“Walking
on water. Yeah. Well, standing on buckets. I know.”
Of course he’d know. “It was all so weird,”
Beth said helplessly.
“I’ll
bet.”
“Have
you ever..?”
TJ
laughed, but there was something besides humour there. “No.”
Beth
willed herself not to ask, and then asked anyway. “How..?”
“Does
she do it? She doesn’t.”
Not enlightening. “That’s what Aubrey
said.”
“Yes.”
Beth
felt a chill, and not from the ice in her soda. She reached to take a sip, and
sent the drink and ice splashing across the Scrabble board. Again. “Sorry.”
“It’s
OK.”
Beth
got up, and took a towel from its rack. “Let me…”
TJ
had been looking down at the cap he still held, then raised his head and leaned
forward, elbows on the table. “Beth, just what do you know?”
“Know?”
She concentrated on drying the board, to avoid thinking.
“About
Em.”
Wasn’t it obvious? “Nothing, except that
she’s got some kind of dementia, that she’s really good at Scrabble, and now,
that you’re married to her. Well, and she can make people walk on water.”
TJ
sighed. “There’s a story there.”
Beth
didn’t know if she wanted to hear it.
“Do
you want to hear it?”
“Yes.”
Then
came Aubrey’s voice, with quiet smiling urgency, from the hallway. “TJ? She’s
awake.”
TJ’s
glass tipped as he quickly stood, and more ice flooded the Scrabble board.
“And?”
Aubrey’s
face shone. “She asked for Beth.”
“Ah.
That’s good, very good.” TJ’s face was impassive, bracing against what he might
yet learn.
“And
then she asked for you.”
“You
go,” said Beth, stepping back.
“She
asked for you. And maybe…” TJ bit his lip.
“Maybe
what?”
“Maybe
seeing you will help her remember me better.”
“Of
course. But you go in first…” Beth’s
voice trailed off.
TJ
shook his head. “We’ll go together.”
Emily
was sitting up in bed, wearing a pale-green nightgown, with a matching ribbon
in her freshly-comber hair. “I wanted to be my best or you.” She looked from TJ
to Beth. “Or something.”
“Em.”
TJ was standing rigidly, and conflicting emotions, delight and fear, crossed
and recrossed his face. “Em.”
Emily
held out her arms to him. “Yes, dear heart. Come here.”
TJ
walked stiffly over, and sat on the edge of the bed, and Beth thought he looked
like he was scared that if he touched his wife, she’d shatter, or disappear in
a puff of smoke.
‘You
can hug me. I won’t break.”
Opening
his mouth to speak, TJ only let out a low choking moan, and gently hugged
Emily.
“I’m
sorry I’ve been away, dear heart. But I’ll be staying now,” Emily said into
TJ’s chest.
Do
you know how long…” TJ stopped, knowing the question was pointless.
“Five
years and some change. I remember everything. It’s all right now. I’m all right
now. Well, except that I’m dying. But we’re OK.” She squeezed her husband.
“It’s really all right.”
“I
don’t want to lose you, Em. Not now.” TJ’s words came out thickly.
“Oh,
silly man, you won’t lose me…I’ll die, that’s all.” She put her hand under his
chin, and raised his head, to look into his eyes. “I once was lost, but now am
found…” she sang.
Beth
caught Aubrey’s eye, and started sidling her way to the door.
“Oh,
no you don’t.” Emily was looked over TJ’s shoulder, which was shaking.
“You
guys should really…”
“God
gave me two arms so I could hug the both of you, Beth.”
Beth
sat next to TJ, and Emily shifted so she could hug them both. Then she started
to laugh.
“What’s
funny?” TJ said in a voice that still shook with emotion.
“Do
you realise, you two who have been so important to me…this is the first time
we’ve ever been together, in the same place?”
She
looked at Beth, eyes dancing with mirth. “And do you remember the message you
told me to give TJ?”
Beth’s
face flushed. “I remember.”
“Well,
then…now I have a message for TJ to give you.”
TJ
was confused. “Huh?”
“Go
on, TJ, a kiss on the cheek, for this dear heart who brought us together.” And
as the message was delivered, Emily clapped her hands in delight.
Emily
tired quickly, and Aubrey ushered Beth and TJ from the room, extracting from
Beth a promise to return the next morning.
Beth
looked to TJ. “Absolutely,” he said. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
They
went out the front door, and TJ asked, “You still want to hear the story?”
“Hmm?”
In the emotion of the past few minutes, Beth had forgotten that she had walked,
well, stood on water, and that there was a story behind it all.
“The
water thing.”
“Oh.”
Beth felt like an idiot. “Yes. Of
course.”
“Tomorrow,
then…if Em’s up for it, she should say her part…” His words slowed. “Her
perspective.”
“I
don’t want to overstrain her, I mean, it’s like she just woke up.”
“Well,
we’ll see. I have a feeling, she’ll want you to know.”
They
had reached Beth’s driveway, and as TJ stopped, a car arrived.
“Ronnie!
TJ, this is my son…Ronnie, this is…”
The
young man slowly got out of his car, staring past his mother, at TJ. “I think I
know you…”
TJ
was silent.
“Yeah,
five years ago, at church…you and the other guys were going to talk, and then
the cops showed up.”
“Ronnie,
what? “ Beth was perplexed.
“It
was a memorable night” TJ said drily
“What
happened?” Ronnie’s youth informed his directness. “You guys were arrested,
right?”
“Well,
sort of.”
“Love
to hear it, man.”
“Someday.”
TJ put out his hand, and Ronnie shook it. “Promise.”
“Cool!”
Ronnie turned to his mother. “I was just gonna drop these papers off, the ones
you gotta sign, the mutuals?” He handed Beth a large envelope.
“Thanks.”
Beth kissed him on the cheek. “Saved me a trip to the brokers’.”
“No
prob. Hey, I gotta split.” He turned back to TJ. “Hold you to that promise,
man.” Then again to Beth. “See what you missed, not going to church with me and
Clar?” And then he was gone.
“It
wasn’t actually the police,” said TJ.
