She's Gone: A Novel (37 page)

48

Fly On, Little Wing

Charlie stopped by the house Saturday morning, and he and Jolie walked to the temple. The monk led them in meditation. “Bring the mind home. Relax, ground to the earth, reflect and breathe,” he said in a quiet voice. “Find your ever-present source of inner peace and wisdom to draw strength, courage, clarity, and compassion.”

After meditation, Jolie and Charlie sat in the spring sunlight on the bench beside the pond. Pink and white cherry blossoms hung in the trees overhead. Petals floated like snowflakes to the ground and into the pond.

“I’m getting it. I can let go of my thoughts,” Charlie said. “I enter a peaceful world.”

Large orange koi swam in slow circles under green lotus pads.

“Charlie?”

He turned toward her. His blue eyes were bright and shone with serenity.

“I want to come to California with you.”

“What? You do?”

She sat straight and strong, self-assured and at peace. “I want to go home.”

“Sure,” he said. “I can drop you off for a few days and swing by and get you after my reunion.”

They held each other’s gaze. “I’m not coming back.” She paused and looked into his eyes. Her throat closed, and her heart pounded. “I’m leaving Will.”

Charlie stared back at her speechless. His eyes clouded with questions. Finally he asked, “Does he know?”

She shook her head. “He will never let me go.”

“This will crush him. You know that don’t you?”

“He’s strong,” she said, staring at a koi circling endlessly around the pond. But she knew that wasn’t true.

“I think you’re making the right decision but you need to be sure.”

“I’m sure.”

They sat in silence for a long while.

“I leave on Friday morning after my last final,” he said.

“I’ll be ready.” She smiled at him, a brilliant smile of joy and release. They lingered by the pond, mesmerized by the blossoms floating down around them and swirling in the current.

“Have you ever been to Yellowstone?” she asked.

He smiled at her, dimples creasing his face. “No, but I have a feeling it’s going to be one of our stops.”

Each day that week felt like a year. Alone with Will, Jolie was quiet. He sensed something after she had returned late from the diner. He was more attentive and left the office when she got home. Thursday night, Will sat at the kitchen table with his guitar, strumming hypnotic grooves while Jolie made cookies. He talked about their upcoming trip on Saturday to D.C.

“Our new world will replace the old world of privilege, imperialism, and capitalism,” he said.

“Play me a song,” she said.

He paused and played the Beatles’ “Blackbird”. As he sang, his voice hit her with a force right through the heart. She leaned against the counter and closed her eyes. She would not cry.

Sleep would not come that night. She lay still next to Will and followed his breathing. What if her plan was foiled somehow? He would never let her leave on her own. Morning finally came. Jolie kept to her routine, making tea and straightening the house, her body tight with nerves. She packed cookies for Will to take to the office. He seemed to be dallying, or was she jumpy? She had to relax and not give herself away. She put on a jacket and took a cup of tea out to the back porch. It was chilly, and the air was fresh in the early spring morning.

“Here you are,” Will said, coming out to the porch. Startled, her body jerked, and tea spilled onto her leg. He bent down to kiss her. “I’m off to the office.”

She rose and gave him a hug. Looking into his eyes, she stroked the outline of his face. “Don’t forget the cookies for your comrades.”

She waited a moment and went inside. From the living room window, she watched him get into Old Blue and chug down the street. Her heart raced. In the bedroom, she pulled out her duffle bag and packed her camera and a portfolio of negatives and photos. In her drawer was a small stack of clothes that she placed in the bag. Underneath the clothes was her doeskin wallet that bulged with cash from her closed bank account. She slipped it into her purse.

Opening Will’s leather journal, she wrote in a shaking hand:

Will,

I will always love you. I have reflected on my life, and you need to let me go. I realize now that without my family, my life will be hopelessly empty. The pain I have caused them is unforgivable. I have to go home and try and make amends.

I won’t let anyone know where you are. Think of yourself and the future. Do not come after me.

Peace and love,

Jolie

Closing the journal, she set it on the bed. She looked at his photo
on the wall from the day at the concert. She
had been in love with him
.
Or had she been in love with the idea of him? But now she was disillusioned with the real man.

She picked up her bag and walked out the door, bounding down the steps to the sidewalk. Her heart pounded as she walked to the T. Time seemed to stand still. Was the subway always so slow? Emerging in Harvard Square, she walked to the big clock and waited for Charlie. She was early. Melting with anxiety, she leaned against the clock base. What if Charlie decided not to take her? He was coming back to Cambridge and would have to face Will at some point. But if they pulled it off, Will wouldn’t know how she left the city.

She looked at every passing car. If Charlie didn’t show up, she could always take a Greyhound. Or a plane, she certainly had enough money.

Relax, relax, relax, she chanted silently.

Then Charlie was there, double-parked in La Bamba, his white station wagon. He waved to her. The car behind him honked. She picked up her bag and floated to the car. He opened the door for her from the inside, and she slid onto the bench seat. He dropped her duffle onto the back seat and drove off.

They didn’t speak. Charlie drove out of Cambridge and onto the interstate. Jolie sat cross-legged with her eyes closed, trying to relax and calm her racing heart. Her throat was parched.

After a few miles, Charlie cleared his throat. “You can open your eyes now and breathe.” She looked over at him. His eyes were intent on the road, but he was smiling. She let out a long sigh.

“By the way, you’re in charge of the radio,” he said.

Jolie flipped it on, and music filled the car. She looked out the window at the passing green landscape. She was flooded with joy, and it was no ordinary joy. She was going home. The feeling blossomed as they drove.

Late that night Charlie pulled into a campground in Ohio on the banks of Lake Erie. He folded the back seat down and set up their beds on a foam mattress. They crawled into the sleeping bags he’d brought.

“It’s going to get cold here tonight,” he said, and pulled a quilt over them.

They lay awake in the darkness.

“You’re brave, really brave,” Charlie said.

“I don’t feel brave.”

She lay still under the weight of the quilt.

An owl hooted nearby.

“Owls are good luck,” he said. “They’re protectors.”

“Hmm.” She curled up into a ball to stay warm and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning they set off early. Charlie turned the car heater on high to warm their shivering bodies. They stopped for tea and drove on. Jolie studied the map as they inched west. They talked and then fell silent for long periods.

“I bet your folks are excited about seeing you,” he said.

She looked over at him. “They don’t know yet.”

He glanced at her and then back to the road. “Well, don’t you think you should call them? Or are you going to just show up and say you were in the neighborhood?”

She laughed. “I’ll call. I just need another day.” She looked out the window. “It’s complicated.”

She looked down at the map and traced their progress. She’d call them when they were more than halfway. That felt right. As they drove through the heartland of America, she turned to him. “Charlie, there are some things I need to tell you before we get to California.”

“I’m your captive.”

Jolie proceeded to tell him her story in a calm and dreamlike voice. He pulled off the highway, turned off the engine and listened with a look of disbelief. When she finished, tears shone in her eyes.

“Jesus, Jolie, I had no idea.” He sat there shaking his head. “What Will did is not right. You’re just a kid.”

“I hope my family will forgive me.”

He reached over and took her hand. “They’ll forgive you, but nobody should ever forgive him.”

They sat in silence and watched a farmer in a green John Deere tractor, plowing his field. He inched toward them in a straight line.

“Let’s keep moving,” she said.

49

She’s Gone

Somewhere in the middle of South Dakota, Charlie pulled into a gas station to fill up La Bamba. It was late afternoon. Jolie got out to stretch. She eyed the dusty red and white phone booth alongside the station. She walked into the gas station store and picked out two orange juices, a pack of Beemans gum, and the Sunday paper. The old man behind the cash register eyed her between looks at Charlie out by the gas pump talking with the younger gas attendant.

The man stared at her outfit, blue jeans with paisley bell bottoms, a tie-dyed T-shirt, moccasins, and a scarf tied around her forehead.

“I need change for the phone, please.”

He rang up her items. “Where’re you two from?”

“It’s not where we’re from that’s important, it’s where we’re going.” She smiled at him and walked out the door.

Charlie was still talking to the gas attendant. She put her purchases on the front seat, walked over to the phone booth, and shut the folding door behind her. She stacked the coins on the small ledge. What kind of calls had been made from this middle-of-nowhere phone booth? She took a deep breath and dialed the operator. She deposited the first set of coins, and the phone rang twice. On the third ring, a deep male voice answered. He sounded tired.

“Dad?” Her heart beat loudly in her ears.

“
Jolie?
”

“Hi, Dad, it’s me.”

“Where are you? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I’m coming home.” She was smiling as she spoke.

“Jolie?” Her mom’s voice came on from another line.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Where are you now?” he said.

“I’m somewhere in South Dakota. We just crossed the Missouri River.”

“I’ll come and get you,” he said.

“No, Dad, I’m on my way.” She looked out the phone booth window. Charlie was leaning against La Bamba, watching her. “I should be there in about two days. I’ll call you when we’re closer. We’re making good time.”

“Who are you with?” he said.

“A good friend. He’s giving me a ride. I’m safe.”

“Please come home,” he said.

“I’m on my way. I love you.”

She hung up the receiver, leaned back against the glass and closed her eyes. She was going home. She was really going home. A pickup truck blaring country music drove into the station from the frontage road and jarred her from her thoughts.

She opened the glass door and walked over to Charlie who was still leaning against the car watching her. “Everything okay?” he asked.

“Who says you can’t go home again?” She smiled a brilliant smile, and they got into the car and drove west.

Charlie drove all night. Jolie talked to him, making sure he stayed awake. At dawn the next morning, they arrived at Yellowstone National Park and pulled into a campsite. The majestic, snow-capped Grand Teton Mountains towered in the distance. A patchwork of snow quilted the landscape. They stood close together and shivered. Exhausted by the drive, they crawled into the back of the car and slept. Jolie woke a few hours later. Charlie sat bundled by a campfire. He had boiled water and made a pot of tea. She poured a cup and sat down next to him on a log stump. She looked up at the mountains.

“I feel so free. Like a weight has been lifted,” Jolie said, fingering her moonstone pouch.

“You’ve been harboring a lot. I admire you.”

“You admire me?”

“Yeah, you always stand up for what you feel is right. Don’t ever change that.”

They stared at the flames.

A pang of sadness shot through her. “What do you think Will is doing right about now?” she said.

“I imagine he’s working on the anti-racism, anti-materialism, and anti-capitalism manifesto.”

They both laughed.

“He’ll survive,” he said.

She swirled the tea leaves in the bottom of her cup and sat strong and grounded and clear-headed with her decision.

Charlie got up and put out the fire. “Time to hit the road. But first, I want to see one of the wonders of the world, Old Faithful.”

In the middle of the night Charlie pulled into a rest stop near Reno. He fixed up their beds and they slept for a few hours. They woke at dawn with the sound of big rigs starting their engines, vibrating past them. They got up and meditated on the tailgate. Fifteen minutes later, Jolie opened her eyes and went to get her camera.

“I want to remember this,” she said. She took a photo of Charlie sitting cross-legged, hair tousled with a three-day beard, smiling back at her on their last leg to California.

Charlie stopped at a roadside café for breakfast. Jolie, bursting with energy, could not stop grinning. She would be home that night. They ordered tea and homemade cinnamon rolls.

“How are you holding up?” Charlie said.

“My mind is wild. I’m joyous and scared and blissful and worried all at the same time.”

“Worried about what?”

“I’m worried about Will trying to find me.”

“He’s not your problem anymore.”

“I have a bad feeling. Can you call Adam and just check-in?”

“Sure.”

Charlie paid the bill, and they walked outside to the phone booth. The phone book was missing, and the cord that once held it hung limp. She squeezed in next to him. Charlie dialed the operator, inserted coins, and was connected to the office. He asked for Adam. A moment later, Adam was on the line.

“I thought I’d find you there,” Charlie said.

“Charlie?”

“Yep. How’s it going?”

“How’s it going? It is all fucked up here Charlie. That’s how it’s going. She’s gone. Jolie girl is gone. She left Will and no one knows where she is.”

Adam’s animated voice spilled out of the phone receiver.

“I don’t blame her.” Charlie fixed his gaze on Jolie.

“Man, the guy had a meltdown. He looked everywhere for her. He even thought she might be with you. He was going to come after you. Then we got him calmed down and assured him you’d never steal his woman. He was frantic. Manic. I tried to give him a sedative to calm him down, but he wouldn’t have anything to do with it.”

“How is he now?”

“He’s in jail, that’s how he fucking is. He was all wound up and called in a missing person report last night. The cops came to get more information, and they took one look at this wigged out cat and got suspicious. They took him in to the station. Turns out there was a warrant for his arrest because she’s underage.”

“Jesus,” Charlie said.

“That poor kid. We all cherished her. Where did she go?”

Charlie’s eyes were still fixed on Jolie. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “She’s with me. I’m giving her a ride home. She’ll be home tonight.” Charlie deposited more coins and handed the receiver to Jolie.

“Adam?”

“Jolie girl, everyone’s been worried about you. Will for one, and Nick and Sarah, and Leah and Daniel, Sam and Ginger. And me....”

She listened, staring into the barren Nevada landscape as he reeled off the chain of events again. A giant tumbleweed rolled by in the distance. “Are you there, Jolie girl?” Adam asked.

“I’m here.”

“Will, our pillar of strength, just imploded before our eyes.”

She handed the phone back to Charlie and leaned her face into his chest. He reached out his right arm and held her tight as a great wave of sadness filled her. Why hadn’t Will taken her note to heart and let her go? Why, why, why had he done this to himself?