Another tile was in memory of a loved-one, passed on. She touched it, held it. She hadn't had a close family member loss, yet, but she'd suffered other loss and grieved for the person whose heart obviously ached.
Another tile made reference to a loving couple and then to John Gillespie Magee, Jr.'s sonnet, "High Flight," beloved of aviators and astronauts, or of anyone free spirited. The poem, itself, wasn't reprinted on the tile, but Lourdes knew it by heart, remembering her own life in flight as she touched the tile and closed her eyes, playing the words over in her mind, cherishing something in her life that was perfect:
Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth,
Lourdes remembered countless times the wheels of her plane slowly lifted, held aloft by thin, molecules of air, to play with the birds, beneath the sun, high above the earth.
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Her mind soared through the skies in harmony with his magical words, seeing clouds beneath her yet far above the city as the sun sparkled across them, a full circle of rainbow across their tops.
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds-and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of-
Most people have no idea! she knew. The beauty of soaring free, climbing and banking, exploring new places, experiencing life in new ways, seeing things no one on the ground can ever see, without- The sonnet continued in her mind.
- wheeled and soared and swung,
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air?
She felt she could frolic in the sky as if a disembodied spirit, circling a cloud at thirteen thousand, and lifting a wing to dive toward a mountain top, sliding over it unscathed at twelve thousand-then spying another cloud to round-
She was lost in his words; her heart ached for his purity.
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark nor even eagle flew-
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
Yet another tear fell down her cheek. So often, of late, the need was strong.
She slowly rubbed her hand over the tile of reference and knew Magee's poem was true. No one else can know, she was certain, unless they'd experienced it. She knew Magee's heart for real, and knew he would have known hers, or that part of it.
But, to have a heart that needs to soar, in and of itself, is not enough.
It was sad, she felt: she couldn't truly share her feelings with others-only, it seemed, with people who already knew.
CHAPTER 11
It was dark, just after dusk.
Lourdes had bought a couple of things at the Barn Store and was making her way past Camp Scholler toward her own campsight when she noticed Mike and Millie's camp by the road. There were perhaps forty people standing around on the grass between a group of motorhomes, around a charbroiler-and she wondered what to do about it.
Joining groups was never her strong point. She could make it look like she was joining. She could make it look on the surface as if she'd joined. But she always knew she didn't fit in, that she was different in a way that mattered to most people. They'd act like they liked her, that she was a member or a friend, then they'd drift away, and she'd feel like that fifth wheel again. The one who was different.
She looked at them from a distance and waited.
People talked with each other and ate corn on the cob by holding the husk. One man picked up an ear of corn off the edge of the charbroiler and peeled it back. Someone else poured some butter over it.
She saw Mike, behind a group, with Millie who was making sure people were getting all they wanted, serving someone a canned soda pop out of a cooler.
There was someone else on the far side, hand-churning an ice cream maker.
Their conversation sounded friendly, relaxed.
Lourdes noticed Jim sitting among a group on the south side, talking lively about something. She couldn't tell what.
So was she going to join or not?
She weighed her options. It may only hurt. Worst case? It'd hurt. Best case? She has a nice evening of pretend acceptance.
She'd already had a good enough day; she didn't need more. Or she did need more, but she'd learned to live without it.
Live like what? she wondered. Her life was such a failure, she felt.
She studied her shoes-meant to cover her feet and protect them, but also meant to explore.
She slowly began to make her way in.
"Lourdes!" Millie called. "I'm so glad you came!"
Jim noticed Lourdes' arrival and grinned ear to ear, but held back.
Mike looked like he'd like to go greet Lourdes, but at Jim's urging, he stayed back with him.
Millie gave Lourdes the biggest hug Lourdes had in years, and held on.
"What?" Lourdes exclaimed.
"Oh," Millie let go the hug but held onto Lourdes' shoulders. "Love, I don't know what you did to Jim, but I'm so thankful."
"What?" Lourdes said. "I didn't do anything."
"Oh, yes you did. I swear he's been a zombie since Connie passed away-missing a light inside that we knew hurt. And then, since yesterday morning, he's come back alive. Come over here and get some corn!"
Millie took Lourdes over to the Barbie and got her an ear of corn.
The husk was barely warm to Lourdes' hand, but the corn was hot. Millie poured some buter on it.
"Sample it," Millie said.
Lourdes did. "This is delicious," she said.
Millie's smile was genuine. "Kinda nice," she said.
Lourdes ate her corn while she chatted with Millie and watched people mill about, or sit on chairs in the pleasant evening.
After a time, "campfire" stories began, even though they didn't have a campfire. Jokes were told, and people relaxed into the calm of the evening. A lady, near Jim, strummed a soft tune on an acoustic guitar that made the evening whole.
Jim and Mike stayed where they were.
Jim glanced at Lourdes now and then, a flirt in his eye and a smile on his face.
Lourdes glanced at Jim, now and then, wondering if she should approach. She put her finished cob into a trash bin and wiped her hands on a napkin.
Jim smiled at her, with a slight nod, as if he felt the time was right. He borrowed the guitar from his neighbor and began to pick a gentle, aimless melody as he talked. Chatter faded. People listened, as it seemed Jim wanted to share. There was something magical about the way he played.
"I'm reminded," Jim said, another quick glance at Lourdes, "of a problem we all have from time to time, in how we look at our lives."
"There he goes again," Mike said. "Preaching again-"
A few people whispered, "Shhhh," to Mike, so he settled in his chair to listen.
Jim smiled at Mike and continued. "Of how our view of life can change so."
He strummed gently as he talked, lilting a few notes above the rest, then settling back into a soft, easy, dreamy tune.
"Everything else being the same, Life can seem so beautiful, with everything you need-and then something happens, and everything in it hurts. The sky is still blue, people are still friends," he smiled at everyone, who smiled back as well, "but there's pain all around. Ugliness. Darkness.
"Then something else happens, maybe years later, and those same painful days become life again. Glowing in glory, and you know everything's alright.
"And it's the same life. The same things around you. The same crops, people, days. But now it all matters again when you find something right."
He continued strumming.
"Like sharing this evening with you folks."
The people seemed to appreciate him.
&
nbsp; "Look at us, here. We're doing something we love. Nice evening. Good people. I'm thankful to be alive."
People were quiet, listening, mesmerized by his music and his message.
"And it doesn't take long to happen. The first time I went to Paris, I knew in an instant the Louvre had to be one of my places in the world, that it would always be, and it was there I developed an appreciation for Leonardo de Vinci and Monet.
"The first time I went to Scotland, I felt the same thing. Standing on Stirling Castle, looking out through the battlements over the Highlands, I knew I'd always keep it with me. Because it was part of me."
He strummed.
"And the first time my uncle took me up in a plane, I knew I'd have to have that the rest of my life. Because it was also a part of me. It'd been absent before I got to it, and I didn't know how much its absence hurt, until I saw it.
"And so I'm thinking, that when life gets you down, you remember this: that it's the connections that make us whole. Our connections to life in general, and to each other. Without them, a painting is just paint, a place is just a region, and a plane is just a machine.
A smile grew on his lips as he talked, and the melody he strummed on his guitar took on a more directed tune, the beginnings of a song.
"So I'm moved by this little song I heard Garrett Hedlund and Leighton Meester sing together in the movie 'Country Strong.' The movie was about people finding themselves, and I don't think you really know who they are until the end. Kind of like a lot of us. So if I may."
Looking at Lourdes standing by Millie, he began to sing, softly, in a soothing voice, that carried through the evening, the quiet song
"I'm gonna wear you down
I'm gonna make you see
I'm gonna get to you
You're gonna give into me?"
Millie looked over at Lourdes as if in love.
Lourdes realized Jim was singing to her and blushed, embarrassed- She looked around quickly and noticed everyone was staring at her, to see where Jim was looking!
There were smiles and giggles, and people leaning over to whisper in someone else's ear.
She felt humiliated. She didn't know whether she should run for safety or stand still, to pretend she didn't mind.
Stand, she decided. Don't make it worse by running.
She stood by Millie while he sang the slow, peaceful song. She was in shock as much as anything else, for reasons her mind scrambled to understand and that didn't make sense to her.
He almost sounded like Garrett, though Jim's voice was not quite as deep.
Why had she decided to stay? she wondered. Normally, she'd have run.
Millie put her arm around Lourdes. "See what I mean?" she said.
Lourdes looked at her and then back to Jim, sitting, playing the guitar.
His song continued, about falling in love and its bliss of submission.
Finally, his song ended, and he left his audience with a few lilting notes that drifted away into the evening.
When he finished, big grin on his face, the crowd cheered and clapped.
Jim thanked them-big grin on his face-sat the guitar down on a cooler, and went straight over to Lourdes, took her by the hand and led her away through the motorhomes amid good-natured cat calls.
Three motorhomes away, with no one else around, by the base of a huge oak tree, Jim suddenly turned Lourdes around and kissed her long and warm on the lips, his arms embracing her strong around her back and shoulders.
Lourdes melted. Her mind blew. She couldn't think. She needed him. She felt it in her soul, in her being, but she couldn't form the thought. She became his kiss, his lips. She moved into his whiskers, his teeth, and his tongue, lying close against him, losing her balance, letting him support her weight with his embrace.
His kiss never ended but changed into a caress with his lips on hers, moving back and forth to feel them, then nibbling her lower lip with his teeth.
Lourdes could feel nothing else, as if she ceased to exist. She leaned her head to the side and absorbed him for what seemed like forever.
Jim gently leaned her back against the oak.
Lourdes could feel its strength on her back, and his strength on her front, feeling warm inside like she hadn't felt in years.
She couldn't move, and she didn't want to.
He asked her something. She didn't notice.
He kissed her cheeks, her eyes, the tip of her nose, then wet on her lips again, forever, it seemed, never ending.
In time, somehow, she noticed she was looking at him smiling at her.
She melted into him again.
His hands found their way through her. She couldn't-didn't want to stop him. She gave in to him and came into his heart, more than she knew she could, more union with eternity.
CHAPTER 12
Early the next morning, an angry Lourdes stomped through the trees by Theatre in the Woods, muttering to herself.
"Greenhills, Missouri!"
People noticed. She was walking with a purpose.
She looked for traffic before walking on the road, then headed straight west to Camp Scholler.
"He doesn't look like Matt Damon! He's not nearly as good looking!"
People stared as she stomped by talking to herself.
"'I have a grass stip. Come land on it!' Sure!"
She crossed another road, walked behind the Exhibit Hangar B, then behind Exhibit Hangar D-huge, steel buildings open only to exhibitors getting their shops organized.
It was Sunday.
"The fence has to be open!" and it was. She went through a gate to the south then turned right again to Millie's.
She knocked on the door to Millie's motor home and waited as patiently as she could.
Millie came around the corner, her Maltese, Li'l Missie, in tow. "Hi-" A smile spread across her face on seeing Lourdes, then vanished seeing Lourdes' mood. "What's the matter?" she asked.
Lourdes steamed a while before answering. "Can we sit?" she asked.
"Yes. Actually, I was going up to the Barn Store for some supplies. Wanna come?"
"Where's Mike?" Lourdes didn't notice she was being curt.
"He's parking planes over in Vintage. They're expecting a couple hundred Cubs from a group to come in."
Lourdes nodded her thanks. "Good."
"Lourdes, honey. What's wrong?"
Lourdes didn't wait for a chair, didn't wait to begin walking to the Barn Store.
"I- What am I supposed to see here?" she asked. "I'm in L.A., fed up with everything from concrete to groups that misrepresent me, and I come out here to Oshkosh to get away-and what do I get but every little detail telling me to go to Greenhills, Missouri? You know, I'm from L.A.! My whole life. We don't know from small towns. Chicago is a small town to me. Small groups I do know, and they're a pain, so why would I move to a real small town? I meet this smooth-talking slick-o who helps me with my tent and then kisses me, and I'm gonna have this nice little progressive relationship build and then move off there to be with him? I don't know this guy! Who is he? I know him two days and whamo-everybody thinks we're a couple. Like you said, that you were so glad to have me here because he's happy again."
Millie stood there, taking it all in, not even bending over to pick up Missie.
"So what does that make me? Not 'Lourdes,' but Jim's girl. I'm seeing problems, here, waiting to happen."
Millie waited.
"Like, what if you all get to know me," Lourdes continued, "and you don't like me. Or what if I try to become part of the group, and you do like me, but then I get into some fight with someone because of some quirk-like it turns out you're weird and need to try to control me, or people have expectations of me that don't fit, or it turns out there's a problem with bigotry or something among the group that I am not gonna tolerate-"
Millie laughed and reached over to pat Lourdes' hand. "He kissed you?" she asked.
"Yes he did!"
Millie giggled.
"And now I'm sup
posed to have this story-book romance and move to Green-small-town-hills, Missouri? Where the hell is Missouri!" Lourdes turned to peek under the motorhome. "Okay, come out of there!" she yelled, then she turned to peek under a neighboring motorhome. "Where's Rob Reiner? Steven Spieeeeelberg?" she called out. "Sandra Bullock! I know you're hiding in there with this cute little script I'm supposed to follow, because this is so ruddy fake!"
Millie laughed at Lourdes. "Wow! If you find one of them, can I have them? I'm not even gay, and I'd take Sondra. Because all I have right now is Mike, and-" Millie laughed at herself.
"What are you so happy about?" Lourdes demanded.
"Sorry," Millie said. "I'm just kidding."
"Well, I'm not!" Lourdes said sternly. "This is all just a little too fake-perfect, and I can think of a hundred ways jumping into a new group could go bad. But that's what people seem to have in mind for me. So how can I do that?"
Lourdes began to wind down a little.
"Fantastic, Lourdes! It's good to meet you. I'm Millie!" Millie reached over and shook Lourdes' hand as if they'd just been introduced.
Lourdes was confused.
"I don't know if you will ever want to move there or not, but I think it'd be great if you did, because I can tell about people, and you're good people."
Lourdes started to object, mad again.
Millie clarified, "For you being there, not to be with Jim per se."
Lourdes cooled.
"Come on," Millie said. She put Missie in the motorhome, took Lourdes by the hand and started walking toward the Barn Store.
Lourdes' phone rang. She pulled it out of a pocket, pressed "Ignore" and shoved it back in her pocket. "It's Jim."
"Ok," Millie said. "So you are thinking all about leaving L.A., meeting Jim, and what that could mean as far as the idea of making a commitment to a group of people you don't know in a small town like you have no experience with-and how that could easily be a problem?"
"Close enough."
"Okay. I'll give you my take on it?" Millie asked.
"Good. That's what I wanted."
"Well, first of all, you got your small towns, and then you got your small towns."