Heartsong

  "I'm not afraid to make a big promise," he said, smiling. He lay beside me and put his arm under my head so I could lie in the softness. He stroked my hair and we were both silent for a long while. The movement of the boat became softer, undulating, hypnotizing. I felt as if I were in a big cradle being rocked.

  "Love me half as much as I love you and we'll be all right," I heard Cary say.

  It was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep.

  We were lucky it was Sunday, for neither Cary nor I woke with the light of morning until the sunshine blazed through the window and wiped over our faces to wash away dreams and sleep. If it had been a weekday, Uncle Jacob would have come through the door before our eyelids had opened and he would have discovered us wrapped in each other's arms, asleep, me still half naked, with only a towel and Cary's shirt to cover me.

  I stirred first and then Cary blinked, closed his eyes, ground the sleep from them, and sat up, a look of confusion on his face. We gazed at each other.

  "It's morning," he said as if he had made a most wondrous discovery. The look of fear on my face wiped the stunned expression from his. He shot up, gazed around a moment, and then scooped up my dress. "It's not completely dry."

  "It's all right. I have to put something on," I said.

  He handed it to me and I began to wrap it around my body quickly while he put on his shirt and straightened up the cabin. I put on my shoes and he put his on, too. When he opened the door, the glitter of the morning light on the sand made us both squint.

  "What are we going to tell them, Cary?" I asked.

  "The truth. We got trapped by the storm and slept in the boat," he replied. "And if he says one nasty thing about it, I swear I will leave for good," he vowed.

  My heart thumped like the slow drumbeat of a military funeral march as we made our way over the dunes to the house. I just hoped Uncle Jacob wasn't waiting by the door. When we arrived, we paused, looked at each other, and then Cary turned the knob. To our surprise, it was locked.

  "Why did he do that?" I asked.

  "He just wanted us to ring the bell so he would know exactly when we came back," Cary said. "That way Ma would wake up too." He shook his head and then smiled. "Follow me," he said and we walked around the house, where there was a ladder lying beside the wall. Cary lifted it carefully and gently laid it against the house just under my bedroom window.

  "What if he locked the windows, too, Cary?"

  "The window in Laura's room doesn't lock," he said. "It broke a long time ago and we never fixed it. I'll go up first and get it open," he added and started up the ladder. When he reached the window, he opened it gently, smiled down at me, and then came back down the ladder.

  "Why didn't you go in?"

  "You go first. I want to be sure you climb up all right," he said, stepping back.

  I gazed around. It was very early, so there were no other people or cars about. Surely, they might suspect burglars if they saw us, I thought. I looked up the ladder at the open window and shook my head in amazement.

  "I can't believe we have to do this," I said, but I started up the ladder slowly. I trembled a few times, but I made it up to the window sill and climbed in, Cary right behind me. He closed the window softly, indicating we should be quiet. Then he went to the door and peered out.

  "They're still asleep," he whispered. Then he leaned forward to kiss me and slipped out of my room.

  After I got out of the damp sari and into a nightgown, I crawled into bed and fell asleep again, not waking until I heard Uncle Jacob shouting in the hall, complaining about our getting into the house through a window. Obviously he had gone out and seen the ladder still leaning against the house.

  "Like common thieves, Sara. They used the ladder and broke into the house. Like thieves in the night!"

  "Shh, Jacob. Let them sleep," I heard her say.

  "Let them sleep? Where were they? How dare they climb up a ladder to get into the house?"

  "You locked them out, Jacob," she reminded him. "Now hush up," she said sharply.

  I heard him mumble loudly and then stomp noisily down the stairs. Not ten minutes later, there was a gentle knock on my door and Aunt Sara entered.

  "Melody?" she said. "Are you asleep?"

  I turned to face her.

  "No, Aunt Sara. I'm sorry about climbing up a ladder and through a window, but we couldn't get into the house without waking everyone otherwise," I said.

  She nodded, but looked dreadfully sad.

  "Where were you?"

  "We got caught in the storm and spent the night in the lobster boat," I said. It was the truth, albeit not all of it.

  "What were you doing last night when we came back from the Wilson's?" she asked.

  I explained meditation the best I could and apologized if I had caused any trouble. I emphasized that it wasn't Cary's fault.

  "Laura never did anything like that," she said, shaking her head woefully.

  "She might have if she had lived to learn more about it," I said and Aunt Sara nodded, pleased with that thought.

  "Yes, that's true. She might have," she said. "She might even have worn that dress, just for fun once. Yes," she said. Her face brightened. "Well, do you think you'll be up and about soon? We do have the brunch at Olivia's today."

  "I don't feel up to it this morning, Aunt Sara. Please give Grandma Olivia my apologies," I said.

  "Oh dear. I just hate when we have to do that. Olivia gets so upset. What will I tell Jacob? He'll just get even more riled," she moaned.

  "If he has to know, tell him I'm having cramps," I said.

  "Cramps?"

  "Time of the month," I said but shifted my eyes quickly so she couldn't see I was lying.

  "Oh." She brought her hand to her mouth. "I see. Well, will you be all right by yourself?"

  "I'll be fine as long as I can rest a while, Aunt Sara."

  "Yes, yes. It can be debilitating," she said. "I'll tell him. I'll look in on you before we go," she added and left.

  I just hated lying, especially to Aunt Sara, but I could see that this time it was the better thing to do. It got her off the hook as well.

  I was still in bed when Cary came by, knocked softly, and peeked through the opened door.

  "Hi," he said smiling.

  "Hi. What's happening?"

  "Nothing. I told Dad we got caught in the storm. I guess you had already told Ma. He didn't say anything about it, but he was fit to be tied. I've never seen his face so red or his eyes bulge with so much frustration. Glad you missed it," he added. "You're not going to the brunch?"

  I shook my head.

  "I heard Ma tell Dad it was woman trouble. First time I ever wished I was a girl too," he said and I laughed. "I'll see you later. If I'm still alive," he added and pretended he was in a noose and being hanged.

  "Stop it!" I said laughing. He threw me a kiss and backed out.

  Aunt Sara stopped by as she had promised and I pretended to be asleep. She stood by the bed a long moment. I felt her hand on my forehead and then I heard her sigh before she turned to leave.

  When the house was deadly quiet, I rose, showered and dressed, and went down to make myself some hot chocolate. A little before eleven, I heard the muffled beep of Holly Brooks's car horn. The beep that funny little car made sounded more like a groan.

  Holly was wearing a pink, blue, green, and white tie-dyed one piece with a matching headband, and she was driving barefoot. She wore a rope of crystals around her neck. I was wearing the Moldavite, but I couldn't put on the sari because it was still a little damp and needed a good washing. I was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt with a pair of light pink sneakers and no socks.

  "How did it go this morning?" she asked as I got in. "It worked," I said and she laughed.

  "It always does," she said, driving away. "You should have worn the sari this morning."

  I explained how I had gotten caught in a storm and it was still wet and full of sand and grime. I didn't want to tell her why I
was out in the storm, but she asked and I had to describe the events that led up to Cary's flight and my searching for him.

  "Pagan? Devil? Is that what your uncle thinks? I thought I was in Provincetown, not Salem," she added. "You have a rough road to travel here. How did you come to live with these relatives?" she asked. Apparently, Kenneth hadn't told her much about my past, which I found curious.

  I described it as quickly as I could and when I finished, she shook her head.

  "I'm almost afraid to do your horoscope," she said and then laughed. "I'm sure it's all going to change for you now. You'll see."

  When we arrived at Kenneth's, I saw his car was gone. Ulysses came running at the sound of the engine. I couldn't imagine Kenneth leaving him. He never did unless I was there, I thought.

  "Where is he?"

  "He had to go to Boston," she said, "so it's just the two of us. Do you mind?"

  "No," I said, even though I was a little disappointed. I hadn't spent much time just relaxing with Kenneth and I wondered how different he would be away from his studio and his work.

  "Besides, it's good to just be around feminine energy from time to time. Masculine energy throws us off. Too much of the other sort of static. Let me lend you something more comfortable to wear on the beach."

  I followed her into the house and the bedroom where she had her things unpacked and hanging in Kenneth's closet. She pulled out a frilly, one-piece tiedyed dress similar to her own.

  "Why don't you just throw this on for now? I've almost got our picnic all packed, just need to throw in a few last-minute things," she said. She went out to finishing packing while I changed.

  I noticed that the bed was still unmade, the blanket twisted, the pillows practically on top of each other. Holly's bowl for incense was on the nightstand, full of ashes. Like Kenneth, Holly was obviously not much of a housekeeper, I thought.

  "Now that's much better," she said when I came out wearing her dress. I was barefoot, too. "Wait," she said and ran into the bedroom. When she returned, she had a pink, blue, and white headband. "Here, wear this."

  I put it on and she clapped.

  "Now you're a true guru."

  She gave me one of the baskets to carry and we headed out to the beach.

  "I have a favorite spot," she said and pointed to a place not far from where I had found the discarded doll. Once there, we spread out a blanket. Holly turned on her tape recorder to play her music and then she assumed the lotus position, instructing me to do the same.

  "It takes practice to get good at meditation," she explained. "Someday, you'll be at the point where turmoil can be raging around you, and you'll just close your eyes and tune it all out. Everyone will be amazed and then jealous of your power,' she promised. "People who bother you and get under your skin will become meaningless."

  After what had occurred the night before, what she was promising sounded wonderful. I listened to her instructions and did what she said. The two of us sitting in the lotus position on the beach and facing the ocean must have made quite a sight. We were so far away from the tourists however, there was little chance of anyone discovering us. I understood why she cherished coming here.

  "There are places in the world that have more spiritual energy than others," she said, "and Kenneth's beach is one of them."

  After we practiced our meditation, Holly took out her charts and books and asked me questions, beginning with all I knew about my date of birth. It happened that I had been told the actual time of day I was born, which meant she could give me an even more detailed reading. She plotted out the location, the sun and the moon at the time, and began to work on my horoscope.

  "Gemini is in the constellation of the planet Mercury which absorbs an energy that appears to be a compound of all other planets. It's why he is known as the messenger of the Gods," she said. She reached into her basket. "Now that I've gotten to know you better, I want you to have this."

  She handed me a ring with an emerald set in silver. "What is it?"

  "Emerald, the mystical gem of Gemini, which is the talisman stone."

  "Oh, I can't take another thing from you."

  "Of course you can. It's good karma for me to give something spiritual to you. The emerald," she continued, "is a variety of beryl. It strengthens the heart, liver, kidneys, immune system, and nervous system. It's a tonic for the body, mind, and spirit. It enhances dreams and deeper spiritual insight as well as meditative powers."

  "It does all that?" I asked staring at the ring on my finger.

  "It does," she said firmly. She returned to her charts and then looked up at me and began my horoscope.

  "You have a sensitive, active mind.

  Emotionally you are quite affectionate, generous, and impulsive. You have great powers of observation and are able to grasp facts quicker than the average individual.

  "You are somewhat of a dreamer and when those dreams are shattered you are deeply

  disillusioned and hurt. You can be too romantic. You are sensitive and affectionate as a lover. Your imagination plays an important role in your love life." She paused and looked up. "Does that sound accurate?"

  I shrugged.

  "I suppose," I said. I guess I was something of a dreamer. She looked at her chart again.

  "You have a mind of your own and want independence, so be careful whom you choose as a lover and especially whom you choose to marry."

  "What if I choose another Gemini?" I asked. She smiled and nodded.

  "I thought you would ask that." She studied her charts, made some notes, and looked up. I held my breath. "You'd be compatible because you would understand each other. The sexual demands and needs would be mutual. I have to know his date of birth, time, and so on, because the one exception to all this would occur if one or the other has Scorpio rising at the time of birth. You didn't."

  "What would happen?" I asked, breathless.

  "The demands of Scorpio would prove to be too much for the mercurial Gemini nature. Your approach to sex is more spiritual. The Scorpio influence is more physical. Just wouldn't work," she concluded.

  "I don't think that's true for us then," I said quickly, too quickly. Her eyes widened.

  "Oh?"

  I blushed and turned away.

  "Somehow, I have the feeling you already know you could be compatible, is that it?"

  I nodded.

  "The first time you made love?" she asked and I nodded again.

  "I remember my first time, although it seems like one of my previous lives by now," she added with a laugh. I looked up with interest. "It's all so new and surprising, you expect it will be that way all the time, but often it's not," she warned. "Even with the same man."

  "How many men have you--"

  She laughed.

  "Let's not talk about me. You think you're head over heels in love, is that it?"

  "Yes."

  "Maybe you are; maybe you're just discovering love itself," she said. "Compassion for each other is so important," she continued. "That's why I made the point about Scorpio. When one lover is more selfcentered than the other, when all he or she wants is to satisfy himself or herself, it becomes something different and soon leads to unhappiness. Find a man who cares for you more than he cares for himself and you've found love.

  "But, alas," she said, gazing at the ocean again, "that can be as hard to find as a drop of water after it's been spilled in the ocean."

  "You never did?" I asked.

  "Once, but unfortunately he died young. That was how Kenneth and I met. He and Brad, my lover, were roommates in college."

  "Oh. Kenneth never told me. Actually, he hasn't told me all that much about his past."

  She smiled.

  "Don't be put off by that. Kenneth lives in the moment, in his art. I've done his horoscope. He'll never change, Melody. Events in his past mirrored the movement of the sun and the moon and produced the dramatic disappointments. They're sewn forever into his being and into his future.

  "That's why he
and I get along so well. He knows I won't make any demands, won't stay long. I come and go like . . . a cloud," she said, looking at the sky.

  "Can't he live like a normal person ever?" I asked, still unable to let go of the dream that Kenneth just might have feelings for me. Though in my heart of hearts, I knew whatever feelings he had would never be able to compare to Cary's love for me.

  "Kenneth? Kenneth Childs is one man who is terrified of becoming withal in the sense you mean. Responsibilities, obligations, and the guilt that follows on their heels is very frightening to a true, pure artist. God forbid he had to do something for the house or family just when he was about to begin his work. In the end he would only hate his own wife and children. He doesn't want to be involved in anything or with anyone that will lead to something permanent, something demanding his time and energy. His only commitment is to his art, because it's safe. If he fails, he only fails himself," she concluded.

  Then maybe Kenneth is my father after all, I thought, and what Holly was telling me about him was the reason why he would lie or avoid the truth. Would I ever really know the truth?

  "What did you mean by Kenneth's dramatic disappointments?" I asked.

  "I really don't have a right to talk about it, Melody," Holly said. "Kenneth's memories of happiness and sadness are his possessions. He has to be the one to share them with others."

  "It has to do with my mother," I said. "I know it does."

  She just held her soft smile.

  "Sometimes, I gaze into the stars and I see things I know I must not touch, must not disturb, must not reveal. Sometimes, Melody, it takes more strength to leave a discovery where you found it."

  "Is that what Kenneth did?" I shot back at her. Her smile faded a bit.

  "It's something we all do, Melody, sometime, at some place in our lives. Hungry?" she asked, changing the topic.

  "Yes," I said. After all, I had skipped breakfast.

  As we ate, Holly told me more about her own past, about Kenneth's college roommate, Brad, and how much they had been in love. She read me some of her favorite poetry and she talked more about the power of her crystals. We took a walk on the beach, searching for sea shells, and then sunbathed in the afternoon sun. For one day, at least, I felt as if I had an older sister who would listen to my deeper thoughts and fears and who wasn't afraid to tell me about some of her own.