Chapter Sixteen
“The landscape looked singularly clean and pure and dry,
the air like a pure glass…”
~Henry David Thoreau
Char
An unusually dry, cloudless day greeted Char and her fellow campers. Last night everyone retired to their tents and sleeping bags, tummies full, and heads buzzing on too much indulgence allowing her to avoid any late-night talks with Angel. Today, however, there would be no escaping the overdue, much-needed conversation, and it twisted Char’s stomach into knots. They’d already breakfasted on honey-drizzled hot cornbread, compliments of Granny M, crisped bacon cooked over the grill, and hot coffee.
“So, I thought Angel and I might hike down to the beach this morning. You know, a little girl-bonding time.” The smile on her face tightened like rigid plastic. No one seemed to notice.
“Sure, that’s a great idea,” Angel answered. “You guys can gather firewood for tonight’s fire, and join us on the beach a little later. There’s a great snack and ice cream shack near the beach. Maybe we’ll grab a creamy indulgence and a hot cup of soup before we return to camp.” Angel started to pack their food supplies into the storage container.
“Leave that, Angel, the men can handle clean-up for once.” Char anxiously shifted from foot to foot, pulled her sleek tresses into a long ponytail, and threaded it through a loop at the back of her 49ers cap.
They hiked in silence for almost five minutes. The stillness whistled louder than the chirping birds. Char cleared her throat several times but couldn’t find the words to start a conversation.
“You don’t have to say anything, Char, but it might make things easier if we did have that talk.” Angel kept her eyes ahead or averted toward the ocean now in view.
“Oh, Angel, there is so much I need to say, and so much I am sorry for not handling better. You’ve been the best friend, never harsh, well, almost never.” Char rubbed her hand across her forehead.
“This is harder than I anticipated. I guess I’ll start with Brian. He is a hunk, with those bulging muscles and that rolling burr. Even though I could see he sparked your interest, you didn’t say you wanted him.” She sounded stupid, not at all like herself. “I mean, if you had said hands off, you know I’d have stayed away, don’t you?”
Angel shrugged, “I don’t think I have a right to lay claim to him. He doesn’t understand our ways. He’s new to this time and…oops…I mean…”
Char spun to face her friend. “Oh my God! He’s not…no, he’s not!” She could feel her eyebrows lift almost to her hairline in shock. “But he is, isn’t he? Good Lord that explains everything.”
Angel couldn’t look her in the eye, and she inelegantly attempted to shuffle pass Char on the trail. “I misspoke.”
“Oh no, my friend, you didn’t misspeak. I’m not supposed to know. I really thought Daniel’s tall tale about your grandfather and Granny’s other stories were merely an attempt to spin a little magic. He must have told me the stories a dozen times. I never believed him, well, almost never. But it’s true, isn’t it? Her husband was a time-traveler, and so is Brian.” Charlotte felt dizzy, while Angel continued to shuffle her feet and found some fascinating point of interest somewhere in the undefined distant haze. “No, no, no, that’s not possible; it’s just family folklore to entertain the children.” She paced back and forth blocking Angel’s attempt to advance down the trail.
“But your grandfather always possessed an otherworldly air. And Granny M has uncanny abilities of her own, doesn’t she? I mean we could never get away with a lie or sneak out without her discovering us? How was that possible…every…single…time? Her uncanny ability to ferret out any mischief we pursued always gave me the willies.”
Angel’s nonchalant shrug hardly eased the zapping hummingbirds performing acrobatics in Char’s stomach. Angel finally looked at her. “I can’t believe Daniel told you that story. We’re forbidden on threat of death to ever talk about it.”
She smacked Angel’s shoulder and continued, “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, Daniel and I shared a lot, but you’re my best friend, and you never said a word. You know every dark confidence about my wretched life while you held this enormous secret from me. I’m devastated.”
Angel mumbled some inane response as Char continued to jerk back and forth across the path, her hands shaking with agitation. “I used to tease Daniel that he’d made that up to entice me into his bed. I thought he wanted me to think you guys all possessed some sort of magic.”
Char tried to get Angel to face her, but she turned to the side and wouldn’t make eye contact. “Like you. You’re just too damn good. I mean, who’s that good these days? It’s as if you constantly strive to live up to your nickname.”
Angel whipped on her, forehead scrunched, fists balled at her waist, “I’m not an angel, damn it. It’s just better if people get along. You know I don’t like confrontation. But you, why didn’t you tell me Daniel had shared that story?” Angel fired back.
“He made me promise never to discuss it with anyone, especially you. Later, he laughed it off as though he’d invented the whole story to tease me. Yet, I always suspected…I don’t know…some truth in the tale. I can’t explain why.”
“He didn’t really use that story to entice you into bed, did he? It’s odd he didn’t tell me that he’d told you. Granny M loved to tell the story of how she and granddad fell in love. How he washed up on the riverbank near her home, and she knew immediately that the fates had brought him to her.”
“We used to talk about it all the time as kids…make up stories about how we might someday go time traveling. We convinced ourselves the condition ran in families and eventually we would learn the trick of it. Mom and Dad did not approve us knowing. They put the fear of God in us under threat of losing every privilege for life, if we ever dared talk about it to anyone. Granddad, however, spun his story as a nighttime tale until eventually, we believed it absolutely. He also made us promise with a blood swear to never, ever discuss it with anyone else. I can still remember how he pricked our fingers and touched his pricked finger to ours. A blood oath, he’d said, is an inviolate oath. The fates and fairies would bring great evil to anyone who broke a blood oath.”
Angel looked at her feet, shaking her head, rolling her lips tightly over her teeth. “Maybe Daniel shouldn’t have told you. Maybe that’s why he’s had such terrible bad luck.”
Char shoved her friend hard, knocking her to the ground. “Don’t ever say that again. The fact that he told me stupid stories that I didn’t then and maybe still don’t fully believe had nothing to do with how that terrible war broke him. It’s not because of some stupid folklore.”
Angel leaned back in the dirt, resting on her elbows, seemingly unfazed by her friend’s violence. “But it’s not folklore, and it seems to have happened again.”
“Okay, okay, maybe it has happened. As fascinating as that is, I have other things I need to talk with you about before I lose my nerve. Can we shelve this time-travel discussion for later?” Char shook out her hands and rolled her head to relieve mounting tension. A diversion to the insane time-travel concept might provide an escape from what she needed to say, but then she wouldn’t resolve the tension between them.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to shove you so hard.” She extended a hand to help Angel to her feet.
“I’ve been seeing a therapist for the past two months.” Char blurted. She paused, wondering if Angel would react negatively. As usual, her friend simply brushed off her jeans and waited patiently for her to continue.
“I’ll never get over him, you know. I’ve tried. I’ve taken half a dozen lovers since our breakup. By the next day, I always hate them and myself.”
A great gulp of air did nothing to relieve the tightness in her chest. “No one is able to purge Daniel from my system. I know he’s your brother, and you might not want to hear these details, but I must tell you how I feel if we’re to remain friends. The therapist has helped me see that all these men and my trashy behavior is an attempt to punish both of us for not being able to overcome the damage of that stupid war.”
Angel’s mouth tightened into a tight line, but she held Char’s gaze and waited. “Yeah, I know it seems as though I shag every man I meet. It’s not true, though. I have some standards.”
Char kicked at a rock in their path and watched it bounce over the cliff. “I still love him. I will always love him, but I’m starting to believe his last words that love isn’t always enough. I want us to get back together, even though I don’t think he’ll ever let that happen. We’d have to seek counseling if we’re to mend all the damage we’ve done to each other and to ourselves. Unfortunately, I don’t think he’ll consider it.
“For months after he returned from Nam, I begged him to see a counselor…offered to pay for it too. He said he couldn’t burden anyone with the horrors he carried. We tried really hard to keep it together, to love each other. I can’t even explain how or when everything fell apart. We were both so hurtful, so angry. He from his war experience, me from the loss of my family and then the loss of Daniel, as I’d known him. Our mutually damaged souls proved too difficult to heal.”
In the distance, the ocean’s sparkly clean surface contrasted with the desolate disparity, the utter loss that blackened Char’s heart and cast its torn threads, like muddy foam, onto a pristine shore.
Angel hugged her wiping tears from her face that she hadn’t even realized she’d shed. “I’m so sorry, Char. I know Daniel still loves you too. I can’t tell you how many times I cry myself to sleep at night worrying about him…and you. I wish you’d been successful getting him into counseling. He’s too proud and stubborn for his own good. A family trait, I think.”
Char stepped away from Angel, her embrace both too comforting and too painful. “When he first disappeared, he’d send occasional postcards. He’d apologize for the way we’d ended things. It all went so badly. I think we both lost our minds a bit. He even said he loved me and that was why he had to let me go. Stupid man.”
“You never told me he sent cards to you, too.” A tinge of pain bracketed Angel’s statement.
“Yeah, well, I never discussed our trysts either, did I? It didn’t seem right, and I needed to keep something of our relationship private. As though those vague messages he sent could keep us connected, or offer hope that we might get through this mess. Then they stopped coming. Every time I came by the house, I’d nag Granny M to share the messages he’d sent to the family.”
They continued down the trail talking about old times, about Daniel, about how much everyone missed him. It wasn’t enough to mend the terrible ache in her chest.
When they reached the beach, Char took her friend’s hand. “Honestly, Angel, if Daniel comes back, and I pray he does, but if he rejects me again—” the hot sting of tears made her turn away. “I don’t think I can stay a part of the family, at least not without a long separation. It would cut too deeply to see him love another woman. I don’t think I’d ever be able to handle that. I know we’ve each taken a few partners to our beds, but that’s not the same as moving on with another person on a permanent basis.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m not sure.” Char clenched her hands, her nails biting into her palms. “I’m thinking of leasing my townhouse and moving away for a while. Maybe I’ll tear a page from Daniel’s scheme and trek into the wilderness for a complete escape.”
“Oh, Char, it would wound all of us if you disappeared too.”
“Perhaps if Daniel knows I’m gone, he’ll come home. Maybe it’s because I’m so close with the family that he stays away. I love all of you. I thank God every day that you have stuck by me while everything went so wrong. Yet, it might be best for everyone if I made a permanent break.”
Angel squeezed her hand. “We love you both without reservation. I understand the discomfort. No one blames either of you. No matter what happens, Char, you will always be a part of this family.”
That evening things around the campfire took on a somber tone. They each told jokes, taught Brian a few songs, and drank far too much wine. They retired to their respective tents before midnight.
Angel fidgeted on her side of their tent. “Char, just promise me one thing. Don’t leave without at least a note, okay?”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that. We’ll see what happens in the next few months.”
Char couldn’t help but pray she’d come through this ordeal of separation, become a whole person again, but with each passing day that hope faded and sank to fathomless depths like empty shells sucked out to sea from storm-ravished shores.