Part 1
The dresser-drawer was carved-maple, as
pristine as the day it was made. She had kept all her furniture that way,
insisting on everyone in the house being at all times their utmost careful. The
children had to play outside when they were young, or in their rooms, but never
in a room with her beautiful wood. Now this piece was stained with her tears,
as she stood before it, almost as if it were an altar, and gazed upon the last
picture taken of her eldest son, wearing his cadet uniform. She picked up the
wood letter opener he had made for her when he was in high school. "Oh,
Todd, please give me strength," she uttered through wracking sobs.
Her husband entered the room, and as she turned
to him, he saw the letter opener in her hand, but seeing her paramount
abundance of grief, mistook it for a knife. "My Todd! It hasn't come to
that, dear!" he cried, and almost instantly realized his mistake. His
look, then, changed to confusion, which she interpreted as emotional pain, and
this was accentuated by his open-mouthed gape. "I miss him so much,"
she said, nearly vomiting the words along with her sobbing, and nearly
collapsing onto the bed. She placed her hands on the foot of it to steady herself,
but then began to lightly touch the smooth redwood finish, her crying quitting
almost immediately.
It had been only days since their son had
passed away. He had been a large young man, a strapping six foot, five inches
tall and as wide as an Oaktree. In his 20 years, he had made his family so
proud, staying clear of drugs and spirits, making straight A's in school,
keeping in peak physical form, and always showing kindness and thoughtfulness
to his peers and family members. He was a model to humanity.
*******
Benjamin Thick came out the Army Recruiting
office a happy man, his head full of pride of accomplishment, and much less
full of hair. He had been accepted a week before, and went in today to complete
the necessary paperwork. He was off to cadet boot camp. He had his uniforms,
and was ready to start a new phase of his life. Nothing could ruin this day. He
was “poised for greatness,” he thought, walking across the parking lot.
As he got into his car, he thanked God for his
blessed life, and turning the engine over, he picked up his phone to call his
best girl. He sped off quickly, barely making a red light, almost hitting a
pedestrian, and settling down to about 10 mph over the limit. Laurie answered,
petulant, talking to her friend even after connecting with her caller. Ben
listened in, brow furrowed, trying to be patient. He was a bit curious to see
how long it would be before she acknowledged him. "...and I was like,
'It's a big let's-make-of-Laurie-cuz-she-drives-a-family-car day!'" Her
tone suddenly changed to perky, "Hello, Baby, who's my big soldier?"
"It's me, darlin'," Ben said in
response to her question, emphasizing the word "me." He was about to
continue when Laurie broke in. "I know," she returned to a slight
petulance, "I saw you called," then realizing what he meant,
"oh...right...," she softened again considerably, "Oh, sweetie,
I'm sorry! I was just telling Cyndi what Brittany and Nicole said about my car.
They’re so mean.”
"Oh, that was ages ago!" Ben
exclaimed, turning right on Route 5 at the edge of town. He was about to hit
the dirt road that would lead to Laurie's house 10 miles out. "Yeah, God
only knows why I ever put up with them," she said, pouting, "So are
you coming over so we can celebrate?"
"I'll be there in 5 minutes! Ya
ready?" Ben was a bit annoyed that Laurie's friend was still there.
"Yeah, I've been ready for an hour, sweet thing - just waitin' on yer
call." Cyndi was Laurie's neighbor, from the next ranch over. Ben realized
that Laurie didn't have to attend to Cyndi, that Cyndi would just go home when
he arrived to pick Laurie up. "Are we going to Brett's party, Love, or
doin' something else?"
"I thought first we'd have dinner with my
folks at Braze, and then hit the party a bit later. 'Zat cool with you?"
Ben was in the habit of making the plans for them. Laurie never seemed to mind,
until tonight. "Uuugh!" came a frighteningly guttural sound from her,
"Do we really have to hang with your parents, baby? I want you all to
myself tonight." Ben's previous good mood was fading fast. He tried to
keep it together so they wouldn't have a big argument so close to his date of
departure, because after all, he wouldn't see her for at least six months.
"Laurie, my parents wanna celebrate this, too," Ben said, trying to
sound equally sympathetic to both sides. "Well, Mom, anyway. It'll just be
a couple of hours, then we can have a great time at the party." Laurie
sighed heavily, playing up the drama in the telephone receiver like it was a
microphone. "So we won't be alone at all tonight! Straight from dinner to
a party!"
"C'mon, Laurie...," Benjamin stumbled
over thinking of any counter-argument that would work, failing his manly duty.
This was unusual in their relationship, and he found himself wondering what the
deal was, even as he searched for something to say. She was right, as pissy and
petty as she was being. He was about to go away, and couldn't say for sure that
he'd ever be back, although he would never have thought that for a second. She,
however, had thought of it. "What if he has an accident on the way to boot
camp? What if he had some kind of congenital heart problem, and the rigors of
drill instruction and long runs in the rain lay him out for good?" Laurie
had these kinds of thoughts, and others, often, in her copious amounts of
downtime. She had no job, was not going to go to college, and spent most of her
days in her room, planning for her future with Ben. Contingency is a vital part
of any good plan.
As Ben arrived at Laurie's house, he saw Cyndi
coming out of the front door. She ran down the set of stone stairs from the
landing and off toward her house, not acknowledging Ben at all. She knew he
didn't like him, although he was always polite to her. He watched her go by,
then he paused for a moment, looking down, and then scoffed at her snub. He
thought about her for a minute, wondering what he did, or perhaps said, to make
her always mad at him. He snapped out of it in time to see Laurie exit the
house carrying a garment bag, a make-up case, and a suitcase. She was dressed
in sweats and had her blonde straight hair pinned up in a loose clump on the
top of her head.
"Hey beautiful! Let me help you with
that," Ben said, getting out of the car and running up to the landing.
Laurie smiled, her previously pissy mood not evident at all. "My gallant
gentleman," she said putting down her things to hug him. She kissed him as
they embraced, and for a minute they forgot the luggage, concentrating instead
on this passionate, unspoken form of mutual apology. They parted gently,
smiling lovingly at each other, Ben grabbed the bags, and Laurie took his arm
as they descended the stairs toward the car, whose open trunk had been
automatically activated by Ben as he had got out. Laurie thought about this:
"there is nothing automatic about love - it takes the hard work of
intentionality and focus to keep two people attached."
As they sat down next to each other in the car,
Laurie smiled at Ben again, and she looked into his eyes, leaning in, and said,
in a calm, serene voice, "I thank God every day that you're in my life,
baby." Ben smiled warmly, obviously touched by her sentiment.
"Thanks, sweetie," he managed through his emotions, "I feel the
same way about you." Their reciprocated stare finally broke off at the
sound of the car starting. As Ben looked away to begin driving, and Laurie
pondered the fleetingness of life. Something was changing in her, and it seemed
to her that things were about to become tangled, that her whole world view was
about to blow up.
Part 2
Vivian and Stanley Thick sat in their easy
chairs, watching an old, comfortable rerun on television. Vivian had just
cleaned the lunch dishes away, loading them into the dishwasher, and had earned
a restful respite. She knew Ben and Laurie would be home in an hour or so, but
they still would have plenty of time to get ready for their dinner out with
them. It was a very special occasion, indeed, the passing into adulthood of
their only son, as he navigated his way through his first serious relationship,
and was poised to leap into his career in the military. Vivian prayed to God
every night and day to see him safely through it all, so they could be all the
more proud of him.
Stanley was drowsily watching his show, feeling
satiated on the leftover turkey, asparagus, and mashed potatoes Vivian warmed
up for their lunch. He was an ex-military man himself, having served just after
the Vietnam War as a paratrooper. He came of age at the right time to avoid the
horrors of that police action, although he had wanted to go, to serve his
country during wartime. Now, after raising his fine young man, he was retired
from his post-military career in Finance, and spent much of his time with
television, magazines, and newspapers.
Vivian was Stanley's second wife, he having
been married before he went in to the military, but divorced before his return
to civilian life, and she had always been a housewife. She married Stanley when
she was 18, and never needed a job, so never held one. She committed herself to
the full time job of tending to her husband and their son. She was interested
in sewing, needlepoint, and knitting, as well as cooking, and also played cards
and board games enthusiastically. She was a churchgoing Christian, though
Stanley was not, and she sang in her church choir. Vivian had never doubted
God's path for her, nor that of her family.
*******
Ben and Laurie arrived, Ben parking his car
behind Stanley's in the driveway. "Ah, there they are, dear," Vivian
said, waking Stanley from his lazy tele-stare, "Why don't you turn that
thing off," she added, smiling concernedly, "you're almost asleep to
it." Stanley sat himself up a bit, coughed and cleared his throat.
"Mmmhh...ok," he mumbled sleepily, "What time is it?"
Vivian looked up at the wall clock. "We have three hours until our
reservation." As Ben and Laurie came in the front door, Stanley suddenly
said, gruffly, clearly exasperated, "I just asked you what time it was.
Could you please just answer my question?" Vivian's mouth dropped, and she
rose from her chair, walked past the kids, embarrassed, and down the hall to
her sewing room. "Dad, hey," Ben asked tentatively, "Is
everything ok?"
Stanley looked at his son standing near the
door, wearing a concerned, though confused, look on his face. "It's
fine," Stanley said simply, looking at the television that he had not
turned off. Ben stared at him for a few seconds more, then turned to Laurie,
who looked sympathetic, and who held out her hand to him. Ben gave her his
hand, and shrugged as they walked to the basement of his father's split-level
home, a basement that was, until recently, his abode. He had moved into his own
apartment just after high school, taking a job as a night guard for a
department store. His previous apartment, this basement, with its own bathroom
and kitchen, was still full of the furniture he had left, and now was storing
everything else he owned while he was going to be away.
"I'm sure it'll be ok with your parents,
sweetie," Laurie reassured Ben as they fell into the sofa downstairs. He
stared blankly at the television set, which was off, and for a moment thought
about what he should do. "Yeah, I'm sure you're right," he said,
smiling suddenly, snapping out of his blues, "I better go talk to my mom,
though." As Ben tried to rise from the couch, Laurie beat him to it,
nudging him back, saying, "I got this, babe." Ben looked up to her,
then said simply, "Thanks." Laurie smiled back as she walked out of
the room. "God, I'm a lucky man," Ben thought as he watched her
leave.
Laurie walked down the hallway, and as she
approached Ben's mom's sewing room, she wondered if she would encounter her
future in-law crying. All she heard from inside the room was the sound of a
sewing machine. She knocked faintly, not wanting to be mistaken for either Ben,
or Mr. Thick. "Come in, dear," Mrs. Thick said in a cheery voice.
Laurie entered the room smiling, looking Mrs. Thick in the eyes, and stepped
lightly across the hardwood floor. "I'm sorry for all that fuss when you
came in," Mrs. Thick said, "He was perfectly ok all day, and then just
went off!" Laurie finally made it to the sewing chair, saying,
"That's ok," as she bent down to hug Mrs. Thick. "Are you
alright?" Mrs. Thick shrugged, saying, "Of course, dearest. I can
stand a little rudeness from him after surviving this many years. It just got
me mad, that's all."
"Ben was worried," Laurie said, in a
tone that told Mrs. Thick that Laurie wasn't. "I know how it is. You're a
strong woman." Laurie paused briefly, then said, "All women are,
right? We have to be." Mrs. Thick took Laurie's hand, pulling her to sit
on the desk chair next to her sewing set-up. "So...tell me. Is my son
going to put a ring around this finger?" Mrs. Thick was still holding
Laurie's left hand, now with both of hers. "I think so," Laurie said
tentatively. "I have a feeling tonight might be the night." Mrs.
Thick's eyes popped wider, and she gasped slightly, saying in a measured
cadence, "He is not going to propose to you with us sitting with you at
dinner." She was clearly exasperated. "It's either that or in the car
on the way to a party," said Laurie, "or worse, at the party."
"Ohhh," Mrs. Thick groaned,
"Laurie, dear, men are so clueless." She threw up her hands. "I
had thought I had raised that boy to know better. Too much of his dad's
influence," she finished, grinning. "I pray to God he has told you a
lie to throw you off, and he's going to do you right," she added after a
pause. "It's ok, Mrs. Thick," Laurie offered consolingly, "I
love him enough to excuse his little failings. I know if he botches it, that he
still means well, and is probably just nervous about it. I'm pretty good at
forgiveness. God knows I'm not perfect." Mrs. Thick patted Laurie's hand
and considered what she said thoughtfully. "Sweetheart," she said,
"you are one in a million. We're so lucky you met our Ben." Laurie
smiled and hugged Mrs. Thick again. "I'm gonna go have a shower," she
said, rising from the bed. Mrs. Thick watched her leave the room, then went
back to her sewing.
Part 3
Their dinner was very nice. They were all
dressed up, the restaurant was beautiful, and everyone was in a great mood,
even Mr. Thick. There was no trace of his previous bad mood, and halfway
through dinner, after he had downed a couple of glasses of wine, he leaned over
to his wife and whispered something in her ear. She smiled endearingly at him,
and they exchanged a little kiss.
"Well, I'll be," Mrs. Thick said
suddenly to the entire group, "This evening has just flown by." Ben
stood up at this point, strong as an oak, and smiled as he slowly pulled
something from his jacket pocket. Mrs. Thick and Laurie exchanged glances, and
tried to hide mutual smirks. Mr. Thick seemed mesmerized by his son's act,
looking on as though he were an audience to a Shakespearean performance. Ben
had his dad eating out of his hand. The pressure was on, now.
"I have a question to ask someone I love
at this table," he said, "and her answer will help define a very special
announcement I have to two other people I love." Laurie felt a warmness
envelope her. She never dreamed she could be this moved by something she knew
was going to occur. And in this moment, she was not annoyed by the timing, and
company, of the proposal. She was, in fact, convinced that this was the best
way Ben could have popped the question. Ben looked at Laurie as he slowly bent
to one knee, and he softly held her left hand, and said, "Laurie, I love
you more than I could ever express. You are the world to me. I can think of no
other thing so important to me in my life as having your hand in marriage, so
that we can be together all the days of our lives." He paused here for
just a moment. "Will you marry me?"
"Of course, yes," Laurie said in
response to Ben's question, and her tone was warm and sincere, but not
hysterical or sickly-sweet, and she kissed and hugged him before looking
at Mrs. Thick, at whom she gave the same warm smile. She then glanced at Mr.
Thick, and her smile changed to a more blank look, matching his perfectly.
After meeting his eyes for a few seconds, she said to him, "Are you happy,
Mr. Thick?" Ben's father nodded and looked down at his plate momentarily,
at last saying, "I'm proud of you both." His look became somber, and
a weight seemed to fill his being. "Dad, you ok?" Ben asked him.
"I'm fine, son," he answered, looking up, "I'm just a little
caught up in this moment...and a bit surprised that you would ask Laurie in
front of us." Ben took this criticism with the same sadness as always,
bringing his special night down a notch. Mrs. Thick glared at her husband,
about to speak, but Laurie spoke, saving what could have turned the night down
more. "I am so glad to be entering this family, and I love that Ben
proposed with you both here. It shows how much he loves us all. There are
different kinds of love, you know, and each must be balanced with the others.
The branches of a family grow from common roots, and each branch is just as
important as the others." Laurie gazed at her beloved as she finished her
speech, and smiled warmly in support. "Tomorrow Ben embarks on his
military career, and it will console me greatly while he is gone to know that
you two will be here for me, my new family. You know, Mr. and Mrs. Thick, that
my own parents are too busy to bother with me. Oh, don't feel sorry! I assure
you I don't mean that as a call for pity. I've been raised to be independent,
and I am pleased that I've had time to do things my own way, to have the freedom
to develop my mind in my own way, uncorrupted." Laurie's listeners all had
puzzled looks on their faces at this point. She smiled once again, and Mrs.
Thick did, too, saying, "We're lucky to have you, Laurie. Aren't we,
dear?" Mr. Thick said, "Yes - we're all part of the same tree."
He smiled at Laurie, and the evening turned back around just that quickly.
Part 4
After saying goodbye to her new parents-in-law,
who had driven their own car to dinner, Laurie settled in to Ben's car a very
happy young woman. She felt a rare contentment throughout her whole being, one
which, in fact, she couldn't remember ever feeling. She felt a part of
something, although it wasn't a universalist feeling, but rather the opposite.
She was thrilled at coming from wealth, as she did, to now live a more moderate
existence, thrilled at finishing that feeling of being adrift in an ocean of
uncaring, at being delivered from the empty mansion, where the hired help
raised you with more consideration than did your own parents, delivered to a
small, tightly-knit family full of real love.
Ben was in an exceptionally good mood. His dad
had almost ruined their evening with his penchant for cynical criticism, but
Laurie saved the night, and had done so with such positiveness that it made Ben
swell with pride. They were silent for a long time on the way to the party, but
then Laurie broke the silence suddenly with an excited tone. "You know, I
didn't really want to go to this party," she said, smiling large,
"but I think nothing could possibly bring me down tonight." Ben
smiled back, simply replying, "That's my girl," with an emphasis on
the word "girl."
The party was at Ben's friend Brett's house. It
was a huge property, not unlike that of Laurie's parents. Brett's dad was a
corporate lawyer, and worked in the nearest big city, 50 miles away. Since
Brett had become old enough to take care of their family wool farm, complete
with horses, sheep, llamas, and all the necessary employees needed to run the
business, his parents had moved into the city, and only returned on vacations
and certain weekends. Brett took care of his 15 year old sister, Carrie, too,
as she didn't want to move away to the city, either. All her friends were here.
The farm ran itself, in a manner of speaking, so Brett was merely a family
figurehead. There was a manager among the staff who made all the deals and
decisions.
"There he is," Brett bellowed across
the front yard as Ben arrived, "The man of the hour! The man of
importance!" Ben waved, walking around the car, gentlemanlike, to help
Laurie. "Here we go," Laurie thought, even as she smiled up at her
man, giving a big "Wooo" as she emerged from the car, more for
Brett's sake than Ben's. Following Laurie's hoot of enthusiasm, other
party-goers could be heard chiming in with similar sounds. Brett came to the
car, still making strange non-verbal cries (this had been a feature of his
personality, a quirk, for some number of years). He came around to Ben and
embraced his buddy. Ben laughed and returned the embrace with pats on the back,
saying, "Thanks, man...you're too much, dude." Brett laughed harder,
and shouted, "I'm just enough!! Wooo!" Laurie and Ben both rolled
their eyes, separately, and not in sight of each other.
When they entered the house, to cheers,
well-wishes, and fist-bumps, Laurie immediately saw Nicole and Brittany, and
walked the other direction. Ben went willingly, perfectly happy to be guided
away from the certain stress of those phonies. There was a simpatico between
Laurie and Ben, some kind of psychic link. They intended to make this party a
great experience. They made for the den, from where the drinks were all
dispensed. The dining room was the center of snacks, and every other room was
populated by partygoers, in this case most of Ben and Laurie's high school
graduating class.
A short blond woman approached the couple once
they got settled. "Hey, you guys," she said in a hoarse, gravelly
voice, yet with a sweet, sugary tone. "Hi, Maryann," Laurie replied,
giving her friend a hug, "Wow, it's been so long! How are you?"
Maryann hugged Ben as she answered, "I know, I know. I went off to Phoenix
for a couple of years to live with my dad." Laurie smiled, asking,
"Are you back to live here again?" Maryann frowned slightly,
"No, I came up cuz I didn't know when I'd see you guys again." She
showed them her hand, on which was set an engagement ring. "Hey!
congratulations!" Ben and Laurie said almost simultaneously. "I mean,
best wishes," Laurie corrected. The couple exchanged a quick look,
wondering if the potency of their own news was being compromised. Laurie
continued, "That is so wonderful," hugging Maryann again, "What
does your fiancé do?" This was an uncharacteristic question for Laurie,
but "when in Rome," she thought to herself. "He's a tree trimmer,"
Maryann replied.
Laurie's eyes kind of grew bigger, eyebrows
raised, and she bit her lip slightly. "Oh...a tree trimmer in Phoenix? I
wouldn't have thought one could make a living at it." Laurie suddenly
looked uncomfortable at her attempt at a joke. "I'm sorry, Maryann,"
she offered, sheepishly, "That was crass." Maryann set her at ease,
saying, "Not at all. I thought the same thing, but he owns the company,
and they are the biggest one in town. They do lawns, too, especially desert
landscaping, but Roger specializes in trees."
Laurie and Ben chatted with Maryann for a
while, enjoying their beer and drinking in the music and atmosphere. It was
shaping up to be the good night they both so wanted it to be. Laurie kept her
thoughts from sinking into the reality of Ben's leaving. It was difficult,
since this party was being thrown in his honor, as a bon voyage gift, a chance
for his friends to see him before he departs for years, only to visit perhaps a
couple of times a year.
The star couple made the rounds with about a
dozen more friends, some of whom, like Maryann, they hadn't seen in a long
time, and others who they hadn't even known so well in school, but of whom they
were fond. They mingled with many acquaintances, met friends of friends, and it
seemed that they were going to avoid the bad element altogether. Then the bad
element found them.
Laurie had been, at one time, friends with
Nicole and Brittany in school, but she became increasingly at odds with their
world view. It seemed to Laurie that, in fact, many of her high school friends
were still living a life rooted in teenage values, that they could not let
those glory days go, they could not, or would not, grow, mature, and develop an
adult life. Laurie had come so far since her teen years, in terms of being able
to analyze and interpret her experiences, her relationships with her ever
widening world. She seemed to be trying to take life extra-serious, almost to
make up for others' lack of maturity. This manifested in her spending a lot of
time reading - independently studying.
"Hey, Laurie, you avoiding me?"
Nicole said, eyeing her former friend with an intense look of derision. Laurie
looked away for a moment, then turned back, fixing the other with an equal look
of disdain. Then she smiled, suddenly, and her whole tone changed. It wasn't a
phony or sarcastic move on Laurie's part, but a singularly graceful
display of kindness, the kind that usually only comes from wisdom in
maturity. "Hi, Nicole," she said with a calm that managed to transfix
not only her rival, but the entire room. "I've actually been meaning to
talk to you, so I'm extremely glad you're here tonight." Her tone was not
sarcastic, but confident and sincere.
Nicole wasn't expecting this, but didn't rattle
easily. She never had. She smiled with a predictable smugness that belied her
trivial nature. "Well, Of course I'm here," Nicole replied,
continuing with a snotty-ness, "My main squeeze kind of lives here,
right?" Laurie ignored the comment, and started walking, throwing an arm
around Nicole's neck. "Let's go talk this out, my friend. There's no
reason that we need to have animosity for one another given our history
together. We go back way too far to let things like petty high school fights
get between us." Laurie's rhetorical appeal, coupled with mannerisms like
touching Nicole’s arm in a particular way, worked magically, Nicole at first
taken aback, but then quickly changing her attitude. "Well...,"
Nicole started, her tone softening very slightly, "I guess you're
right." She wasn’t entirely convinced yet, but she obviously had been
wanting this.
They arrived at an empty bedroom, and quiet
pressed on them as Laurie closed the door. She fixed an intimate look into
Nicole's eyes, and took her hand. "Let's start again...yeah?"
Laurie's head went forward, looking at Nicole almost through her brows, a
psychologically effective presentation of the center of her mental processes,
which did subliminal work at placing the sphere of their conversation firmly in
the realm of mind. Laurie had thought many times before that all emotion begins
there, and she ran it across her consciousness again a few times, like a
mantra.
"I've always thought that we could put ugliness
behind us if we just clear the air." Nicole said this, surprisingly, and
Laurie knew her plan was, against all hope, working. "Anything that you
say with conviction will convince someone, somehow," she thought, "No
matter how absurd it might sound to you, it will fool them, anytime."
Laurie began phase two. "Nicole, let me tell you something about
myself," She said, seating herself on the bed. Nicole found a chair nearby
and gave Laurie rapt attention. "I do not bear any fools too lightly, and
what I have is mine, I will never fall." Nicole's eyebrows furrowed, but
she kept her attention on her friend. "I've been grateful for the people
in my life, so far, and I intend to go out someday having lived a full, decent,
satisfied, and thoroughly introspective existence." The frown was more
pronounced, yet Nicole was smiling through it, not exactly knowing what she
should think.
Laurie switched tact and tone on a dime.
"Have you ever read Aristotle?" She didn't wait for an answer.
"There is a maxim of which he wrote that talks about a Brachistochrone. I
don't expect you to know what that is, but...and I swear I'm going somewhere with
this. It's all having to do with the best path out of all possible ones, and
it's mathematical, but can be seen as a metaphor for other aspects of life,
most notably religious philosophy." Although Nicole was probably not
understanding much, if any, of this, Laurie kept to her plan, and meant to get
to her point, no matter how convoluted a path it was. "You see, God does
this to find the best world. There could be an infinite number of possible
worlds, with every...uh...possible mutation of...realities," Laurie
struggled with ways to explain this part, and plodded on, "that could
exist in what we can think of as a multiverse."
There was a pause, and Nicole sighed, unsure of
what to say, but then oddly touched that Laurie would want to share all of
this...stuff...with her. "Wow!" she said, "That is some heavy
shit!" Laurie really didn't expect this response from Nicole, and her eyes
went wide. Nicole giggled, and then it was infectious. When they stopped
laughing, Nicole continued, "Laurie, you're so smart! And I think I've
always been jealous of that. In high school, you just kinda went off at some
point, and I figured out after that that I couldn't go there, you know,"
There was another pause, after which Nicole finished, "I mean, Wow!
Aristotle! I could never really understand that." Laurie pushed a little
at Nicole in a friendly way. "Sure you could. You just have to want to. I
mean, maybe you'll never want to, but still, the capacity is there. Don't ever
think you can't do something...or...think something." She grinned at her
slight word play. Nicole looked at the floor. "Naw, I couldn't make that
stuff up, let alone wrap my mind around it." Laurie stared, and said
slowly, pointedly, "With either truth or dare, you will make it up. The
grapes on the vine forsake the defection of light." Amazingly, Laurie
later left the party with Nicole’s renewed friendship.
*******
Nicole was finishing the dishes at 5am,
thinking it is far more important to get all the cleaning done up front, and be
able to rest the next day. Brett had gone off to bed, insanely drunk, at 3am.
He did manage to ask Nicole what happened between her and Laurie, and whether
she had a good night. "Me and Laurie patched things up." Brett smiled
a “my-face-muscles-don't-want-to-cooperate-with-me” smile, and said, "That's
awesome, babe!" Nicole went on to say it was the best party ever, and that
it was all because of Laurie.
Part 5
The day came for Ben to leave. Laurie was
strong, giving off a casual confidence that set all around her at ease. Ben was
a nervous wreck, although he, too, kept it hidden, well below the surface. Laurie
braced herself on this, their last morning together for a while, to help him
get through their separation, and at this point she knew she could achieve this
best not with some grand gesture, but by silently reassuring him that all would
be well, that she would be there for their family, that she would nourish the
roots that tied them all together.
Ben knew all about military service, that it is
built upon the theory that the cadet must be torn down, then molded,
reimagined, refashioned. The seeds must be planted anew: seeds of strength,
courage, and conviction. These qualities would see the ensigns through the most
intense experiences they might ever face, but first the old structures had to
be stripped away, leaving only fresh soil to till. Ben was mentally ready for
this process, though he knew it would mentally and physically take all he had
to get through it.
It was a lovely morning, the sun shining in the
cloudless Eastern sky, birds singing and resting on the boughs, and a few of
the Thick's neighbors outside - walking dogs, mowing lawns, gardening. It was
the kind of day that made a fresh start feel right. There was nothing in the
air to suggest anything except the most positive of circumstances.
Ben and Laurie had been attended on for
breakfast by Ben's mother. She made a cozy spread of pancakes and eggs, with
bacon and sausage, toast and jelly, and orange juice and coffee. She figured
that this kind of meal was not to be in Ben's future for quite some time, and
she wanted to send her son off with a good, homecooked meal. Laurie had tried
to insist that she make breakfast, but Mrs. Thick wanted her to get as much
time at Ben's side as possible. Mr. Thick, as usual, was present only in body,
and quietly read the paper, not interacting with the others, as though he was
in another world altogether.
When the time came for goodbyes, Mr. Thick
hugged his son inside the house, gave him some encouraging words, which were
highly rehearsed, and then sat back down in his cozy chair with the paper. As
Ben, Laurie, and Mrs. Thick went out the door, the television clicked on. Ben
rolled his eyes, but neither Laurie nor Mrs. Thick saw it, because they were
behind Ben; they were, in fact, behind him all the way, and they were prepared
to be the only witnesses to his departure.
As they came out of the door, Ben stopped
suddenly, looking up at the sky, and held up both of his hands. After a few
moments, he slowly lowered them in an arc out to his sides. It was as if he
were stretching away tiredness, but Laurie couldn't see his face to tell if he
was yawning or showing any other sign to corroborate this hypothesis. To her,
he was boldly Christlike, and yet he was just a man, arms outstretched,
accepting the creation, not standing in judgement of anything at all.
Outside the Thick's home was a mighty, 100 foot
tall oak tree. It had started life as a sapling at about the time that Mr.
Thick's great-grandfather was born, and his great-great-grandfather had just
finished building the house. The oak grew up through successive generations of
Thick men being passed down the house, and had survived to this day, on the
(relative) eve of it being passed down to Ben. (Well, what is 20 or so years to
this old tree?)
The oak stood strong, almost as if in salute
(Ben imagined), as the next Thick man walked under the outermost branches of it
toward his car, which would take him the 50 miles to the airport, where he
would be storing it in the capable hands of his high school friend Jeremiah
(who worked at the airport) while he was serving his time in the military.
Laurie and Mrs. Thick had given Ben hugs and kisses from the porch, and watched
as their young man walked down the walkway.
Laurie heard an odd sound, a snapping sound,
and pondered from where it had issued. In the second it took her to ponder it,
Mrs. Thick screamed, Ben began to turn, and then he was struck down by an 8
foot long branch of oak. The enormous length of wood was 9 inches in circumference
where it had been attached to the tree. It weighed, perhaps, 150 lbs, and it
was entirely bereft of leaves. Ben was struck on the head, and several branch
shoots pierced his body, including hands and feet. Laurie wailed in horror
along with Mrs. Thick, as they both sank to their knees. Inside the house, a
confused Mr. Thick made his way to the window, paused for a few seconds,
registering the scene, then walked to the telephone to call emergency services.
He calmly reported the accident, as if it had happened miles away, and to a
stranger.
Part 6
Laurie parked Ben's car in the driveway,
backwards, and began unloading her groceries into the house. She thought about
the meals she would prepare this week for Mr. and Mrs. Thick. Mrs. Thick had
not stepped into her kitchen in weeks. Laurie was fulfilling the promise she
made to herself, yet for the sake of Ben, to hold the family together. She
cooked and cleaned for her in-laws, though they had never officially become her
in-laws. There was no legal reason that bound Laurie to this couple, but she
was bound to them by a more powerful oath, one cemented by her sense of ethics,
her internal divining rod, which always pointed her to what was right, correct,
decent, respectful, and also by her oath to Ben.
Ben had been dead for exactly 33 days, and the
stress on the family was only getting worse, instead of better. Time was not
healing them at all. Laurie was falling deeper into a state of depression, Mrs.
Thick was crying habitually, and having violent night terrors, which
facilitated her needing to be strapped in to her bed to ensure her safety. Mr.
Thick's overall health was deteriorating, manifested by severe high blood
pressure and an increasing problem with not being able to walk. His doctor told
them there was no physical diagnosis for the latter, but Mr. Thick stayed in
his easy chair most of the time, usually even sleeping in it. On the few
occasions he came out of it, he walked with great difficulty.
Laurie put the last of the groceries away and
sat down in the living room, where Mr. Thick watched television and Mrs. Thick
was seemingly lost in thought. She spent much of her days just staring, not
really engaged with anything. Laurie would talk to her whether or not she got a
response.
"I got pork chops," Laurie said
softly, with a hand over Mrs. Thick's hand. "I'll make them with the gravy
and potatoes you like." Mrs. Thick did not respond except to look at
Laurie with a worried face, which made Laurie immediately mirror the look.
"It's ok to grieve, Mom," she said, beginning to tear up a bit.
"We have to start getting past this, as hard as that is." Mrs.
Thick's head slanted slightly, and a tear rolled down her cheek. Laurie steeled
herself, and paused a moment. "We have to just thank Todd we're here, here
to remember Ben. He was a wonderful man, so kind, so giving." Mrs. Thick
suddenly found her voice. "He was taken so young" Sobs began to wrack
her. "Why in Todd's name did he have to go like that?" Laurie's face
crumpled and she buried it in Mrs. Thick's shoulder. Mr. Thick chuckled a
little at an episode of All In The Family. There was, then, a pause in the
room, Mr. Thick having suddenly clicked off the television. It was as though
time froze for a few seconds.
"Todd is punishing us!" Mr. Thick
announced loudly, speaking to the others for the first time in a long time.
"Don't, Dad," Laurie said firmly, setting an angry look at him,
despite the fact that he was turned away from her, so couldn't see it.
"Why?" Mr. Thick argued. "Why not? Why can't I voice my
opinion?" He paused a moment. Mrs. Thick resumed her soft crying. "I
find it difficult to have faith in Todd anymore," she interjected.
"Well, He sure is steering us wrong," Mr. Thick said angrily, at last
turning to his wife and daughter-in-law. "We don't deserve this
pain," he said gruffly, his face flushed. "What did my boy do to
deserve dying like that?" Mrs. Thick looked at her husband with
admiration. She was relieved that he seemed to be finding his fire, his desire
to live. She was still a believer, but she shared her husband's doubts about
the efficacy of divine mercy. What could the author of all creation be doing?
What was his plan for them?
Laurie felt herself crumple inside, a feeling
she knew well was leading to an episode of depression. The world had become
such a hostile place, and she was unsure whether she truly belonged in it. She
went to her room. She thought about Ben, and lost in those thoughts, she at
some point forgot that he was no longer alive, and wondered when he would be
home. She snapped out of her reverie and instantly broke down. She cried
herself to sleep, forgetting to make dinner.
*******
Laurie woke, and was surprised that she had
slept the whole night. It had seemed to her that only a half hour or so had
passed, even though she had vivid dreams. After sitting up and pondering this,
she realized that the same dream was repeated multiple times while she slept.
More and more details came to her as she sat and thought, and in a sudden rush
of inspiration, she went to her table to get something with which to write. Within
a couple of hours, Laurie knew what she had to do.
*******
In the living room, Laurie came and sat with
Mrs. Thick, who was dour and silent. Mr. Thick was still in bed, claiming he
was not feeling well. Laurie put an arm around Mrs. Thick, asking, "Are
you ok?" Mrs. Thick sighed slightly, nodded slightly, and tried to smile.
Laurie contained her curiosity in deference to Mrs. Thick's privacy, although
she really wanted her mother-in-law to talk to her. "I'll make you
breakfast," she suggested, and Mrs. Thick nodded again, and went on
staring.
After breakfast, during which neither woman
spoke, Laurie could not contain herself anymore. "Mom, I need you to talk
to me. I know you're hurting, but if we can't communicate, we're never going to
get past this." Mrs. Thick cleared her throat, and thought about what she
wanted to say to Laurie. "I am," she began, finally, stressing the
second word clearly, "never going to get past this, dear." Laurie's
mind reeled with this announcement. She wanted to oppose that way of thinking,
but she could not bring herself to say anything. She knew, somewhere deep
within her, that Mrs. Thick was right. In that moment grew a seed of epiphany.
A line of thoughts spread through her being, and things slowly began to make
sense, a picture of the future took shape. She understood her place in the
Universe better now than she ever had, and, she further thought, "better
than I ever will."
Mrs. Thick slumped over, head in hands, and
through her steady, quiet sobs, managed to bubble out a simple question.
"Why does love have to hurt so much?" Laurie fixed an intense stare
at Mrs. Thick, and paused before speaking. A very slightly pained, yet soft,
sincere smile graced her lips. "If it hurts, Mrs. T," she said, with
a sympathetic tone, "you're not doing it right."
Part 7
Laurie's comment that morning hadn't gone over
well with Mrs. Thick, although it was given to her in the greatest spirit of
love. Laurie was struggling through a psychological breakthrough, and
struggling with having no one else around her who could understand. She found
it difficult to explain, but dearly needed some feedback, someone to help her
work through things. Mrs. Thick had tried to fathom what Laurie had meant, but
ultimately she was frustrated by it, and she gave up halfway through Laurie's
attempt at clarification.
"I think, Mom," her daughter-in-law
had said, "that in our experience, in human experience, we try to cling to
things, and to people." Laurie knew this was Psych 101 stuff, nothing
revelatory, but she didn't want to sound preachy or arrogant about it. "It
comes naturally to us to do this, but my point is that this is just an
outcropping of psychic baggage leftover from eons ago when people first started
thinking more about their...relationships, their connections, their mental links
to others, and to their...world. We just can't let go...," Laurie could
see she was losing the battle for clarity, "...of...each other...but we
each are still just psychic islands, unable to penetrate another mind. We don't
know if what we are experiencing is even real," Mrs. Thick had checked
out, "or if anyone else is, or whether others "feel" the same
way we do." Mrs. Thick evidently was having the same problem just then.
"We need to evolve psychologically," Laurie continued, "but this
could take...such a long time." She trailed off just as Mrs. Thick perked
up a bit, as though she was about to say something.
"Laurie?" Mrs. Thick asked.
"Yes," Laurie replied expectantly. "Do you believe in
Todd?" This question put Laurie off a little, but she understood from where
it was coming. "I do, Mom." She paused a moment. "I'm really
just not sure what the nature of Todd is. I believe Todd created everything,
and that this creation is being overseen, or guided in some way, but I don’t believe that Todd interferes in our lives
much, if at all." Mrs. Thick looked thoughtful, and Laurie awaited her
reply. It never came. Laurie knew where Mrs. Thick's thoughts were going,
though.
"Laurie," Laurie thought, posing as
Mrs. Thick, "we may not know if Todd is listening, but belief is sometimes
all we have, and we must hold on to it in the hopes that...," Laurie, as
Mrs. Thick, paused for drama, "...that Todd knows all we do, and that if
we stay true, we'll be guided to the right." Laurie answered Mrs. Thick as
herself. "But, mom, I'm not convinced that what happens to us is affected
at all by Todd. We seem, lately, to be headed for more misery. Why should we,
when we've led good lives, and we've tried, in earnest, in sincerity, to do so.
Ben didn't deserve the kind of end to his life that he got," her thoughts
continued, then emphatically, "and we certainly didn't deserve to see that
end." Laurie imagined that both she and Mrs. Thick shed silent tears at
this.
Mrs. Thick had patted Laurie on her hand, then
got up and returned to her bedroom. Laurie ruminated all that day in her room,
in a similar way to how she had assumed the role of Mrs. Thick, figuratively
splitting her mind in two. This time, however, it was three minds she played:
her own, Ben's and Todd's. She poured out arguments and counter-arguments, used
her best rhetoric, and logic, and had stayed up well into the night, finally
giving in to sleep in the early hours of the next day. It was an argument about
creation, about the beginning of time, and all time since.
What Mrs. Thick was really thinking about,
after talking to Laurie, and hearing her out, was that Todd is most definitely
the active author of their lives. Laurie was right to think that Mrs. Thick
believed that, but what Laurie got wrong is that Mrs. Thick thought that Todd
was being unfair. She agreed with Laurie, and Mr. Thick, that they deserved a
better ending, that the story Todd was writing for them was cruel and hateful.
To imagine such misery for so good a family, for people who had led such
fruitful lives, was nothing short of irresponsible. Mrs. Thick wanted to tell
Laurie this, but somehow, for a reason unknown to her, she could not do so.
Mr. Thick became very ill after this, and he
died in their home within the month. Mrs. Thick, in the weeks following his
death, was almost catatonic, and her every function increasingly had to be
cared for by someone, and Laurie took on the task, honoring her oath to Ben.
Laurie never went out, becoming a recluse, but continued writing, despite the
huge amount of time and effort needed to care for an invalid.
Part 8
Our Love Will Never Fall by Laurie Thick
Chapter 7
Ben rose on the 97th day after his death. I
awaited this day patiently, alighting to his chamber once every morning and
once in the evening without fail. His tomb had been sealed by my own hand, with
assistance from my father and brother, and was situated on the south side of a
small hill, about 2 miles from the home of my birth. I chose this site for his
burial as I had become the heir of the Thick estate, which effectively had been
added to that of my own family. I acknowledge that his mother would have made a
different decision, opting for a family gravesite near town, but Ben was, and
is, ultimately mine, and his fate was in my hands.
I figured out about our daughter only about 7
days before Ben returned, having lost my period, and then increasingly waking up
to mornings feeling nauseated. I never saw a doctor - I needed no official
pronouncement. Ben was overjoyed, once he had a few days to get his bearings
again, that I would be bearing his only child. I nursed him back to health over
weeks, explaining over and over what had happened in his absence. His mind had
to be restarted, so to speak, and took some degree of development. He was
walking right away, and his body, quite ahead of his mind, bounced back quite
easily. He slowly, however, began to understand what had happened to him, the
memory of it being restored to his consciousness at some point. He processed it
all very well, having no difficulty with the psychological melancholy
associated with cognitive dissonance. He should not have been revived, yet here
he was.
One day, after Ben's convalescence, we were
walking in the garden near our house, and he very suddenly stopped, looking
thoughtful for a moment. "What happened to my parents?" He said this
calmly, as though it was just a small matter, yet I knew it weighed on him,
realizing in that instant that he didn't know. We had talked about so many
things while he recovered, but somehow this question had never arisen.
"They're with God, dear," I replied with equal quiet, and I knew that
this news would ultimately be acceptable to him, that he would be glad that
they were no longer in pain, especially about his death.
"Your father passed first. He had become
ill quite quickly after your accident. I think it would have happened anyway,
once you had gone off to the military." Ben nodded along with my
explanation. "Dad had been out of sorts for a while," he replied,
"I think he was living in a world that was alien to him. It seemed like he
could only connect with it through television, safe from the consequences of
choice, of decision." I was so proud of Ben's insight, his wisdom. We
talked more about his father, and then I explained about his mother's declining
health. Ben made it clear that, although it saddened him that he would never
again see his mother and father, that under the previous circumstances, it was
better for them that they passed on.
"Your mother asked me if I believed in
God...when she was...when we were...grieving for our loss of you." Ben
looked perplexed, and I added, "Yes, our loss of you, dear." He
quickly spoke up, replying, "Oh, no...I mean, yes, I understood
that." He smiled at me, and I felt, as I always did with Ben, that we were
so together, so in line, so perfectly matched, so psychically linked. "I
was a little confused," he continued, "that my mom would ask such a
question of you." He knew her better than I had, yet I was surprised to
hear him say this. "I was a bit taken aback, and we talked it out, but I
feel that she never quite understood my point of view." Ben smiled, and
replied, "There was a lot she didn't accept, but I loved her so much...and
I know you did, too. Thank you for being there for her...for both of
them." Ben hugged me.
In some unexplainable way, Ben was me, and I
him. The longer we were together, the more we grew alike, to the point where we
needed very little external communication. When Janie was born, and as she
sprouted up, she completed the perfect union. Just as Ben and I had a kind of
psychic link, so, too, did Janie with us both. We lived our lives, contented,
remembering, cherishing, respecting, in eternal, undying love.
All rights reserved ©2013, 2020 Todd Franklin
Osborn
