The Field (27 page)

“See? I just finished it today. My mother's garden in France.” She steps aside so I can have a look.

It's a riot of color and form and at first I can't make sense of it, but then it composes itself into clumps of fruit and vegetables and flowers all jumbled together. I can see why the style is called Impressionism, because I get the impression of the overall picture rather than distinct individual subjects.

“I really like it. Your mother will love it.” I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her to me. It feels so good to be in sync with her again. She gives my waist a little squeeze and kisses me lightly on the cheek.

“Just give me a minute to clean up, and I'll be ready.” I wander around the room looking at the other paintings while she washes her brushes and puts her paints away. None of the other paintings seem as good as Renee's, but I don't have a clue about what's considered good and I'm probably biased. I jingle the car keys in my pocket.

We drive with the windows down, enjoying the Indian summer weather. Most of the leaves have already fallen, but there are
still a few maples covered in brilliant red or gold leaves, and kids are out everywhere, playing ball, jumping in the leaves and riding bikes. When we get to Will's house, his mom answers the door and takes us back to the family room. She looks a little tired, but not haggard like she did at first after Will's dad left. Even so, Will's accident couldn't have helped with her stress level.

Will is reclining on the sofa with the remote in one hand, surrounded by glasses and plates of half-eaten food.

“Hey, how're you doing?” Renee and I sit down on the love seat opposite the sofa.

“Not bad, considering. The pain is manageable—I'm down to one pill every six hours and I think I might be able to switch to ibuprofen tomorrow or the next day. The doctor said I can go back to school when I'm off the pain meds.”

“You don't look as bad as you did Saturday. Your bruises are yellow and green, not black and blue. Your face isn't all puffy, but you still look like hell. No more pretty boy for a while,” I say. “Why do you want to get back to school so bad, anyway? I would've thought you'd want to take it easy.”

“I don't know how much time you've spent at home on a weekday, but daytime TV pretty much sucks. It's all soap operas, cooking shows and home improvement. It's not like we have the soccer channel, either. I figure by the end of the week I'll be bored out of my mind.”

“How will you get around school?” Renee asks. “Can you use crutches with your arm?”

“That's the other thing. I'm going to have to use a wheel chair for a while, so I'll need some help.”

“I'm sure people will be lining up to push your wheelchair,” Renee says, smiling. “You're the talk of the school.” Will has the grace to look sheepish.

“Yeah, but not in a good way,” he says. “Anyway, did you bring me my homework?” He looks at me and I hand him the folder of papers I brought. “I've got a lot of catching up to do. I was really slacking off before.” In a serious tone he says, “This whole thing really scared the shit out of me, you know? Waking up in the hospital, covered in bandages and realizing that I almost died—man talk about a reality check. I don't want to be that guy. The guy that royally screws up and loses everything.” Renee nods.
He almost was that guy
.

“I've got some other news,” I say. “Ogle announced in class today who was selected for the internship. Neither of us got it. Dr. Auberge picked Randy Chin.”

“You're kidding? I never really thought I would get it, but I was pretty sure you would. That sucks. Do you know why?”

“Yeah, it's actually okay.” I glance at Renee and she reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I guess being the boyfriend didn't work in my favor after all.” I shrug.

“Oh, yeah, like it sucks to be you,” Will says.

“I'll take this over the internship anytime.” I look at Renee.

Will's phone rings and he checks the caller ID. “It's my dad.” He answers the call. “Hey,” he says.

“So you did a check? … Really? It could have exploded…?” He takes a sharp intake of breath and turns away from me and Renee. “Yeah, I'm really glad, Dad. Glad you're okay.” His voice is muffled now. “I'll tell him.” And then even more quietly. “I love you too.” He puts down the phone, and I see his shoulders rise and fall a few moments before he turns to us.

“You won't believe what happened.” He leans back against the couch. “My dad decided to have a plant-wide safety check because of what I told him about your dream. They were right in the middle of the check when they noticed some high readings
from the furnace. The thing is, the meter wasn't reading properly, or they would already have found it. If they hadn't been doing the safety check, it would have gotten to critical levels. They shut the operation down to check it out. You know what they found? Almost complete blockage of the exhaust stack. If they hadn't found it when they did, the heat and pressure would have built up and caused an explosion. A lot of people could have been injured or killed. Maybe even my dad.” Will's hands are tightly gripping the legs of his Monroe Varsity soccer warm-ups. “He said to tell you thanks for the heads-up. However you knew about it.”

I have mixed feelings hearing this. On the one hand, I'm glad I was able to prevent something because of my dream, but I also feel the weight of responsibility. How am I supposed to tell what's important and what isn't? I didn't know what the first dreams were about. If I had, could I have prevented Will's accident somehow? What if I miss something and someone gets hurt?

Will is still talking. “What's really incredible is that I don't think my dad believed me when I told him about your dream. I think the only reason he even did the safety check was because he was so glad we were talking again and he wanted to keep it going.” He pauses for a moment, considering. “If I hadn't had the accident and gotten a total reality check … I wouldn't have been able to tell him about your dream. I wouldn't even have been talking to him.”

“It got the two of you talking again,” Renee says. “Your dad did the safety check even though he didn't realize there was anything wrong.”

“Yeah.” Will nods. “It's all related somehow—but it's beyond me to figure out.”

“Things work out exactly the way they're supposed to,” Renee continues. “I don't think we have to know the how or the why. We just have to know it's all somehow good in the end.” It occurs to me that Renee is almost answering my unasked question. I feel the burden of responsibility lift as I realize she's right. I don't have to understand, I just have to be open to the experience and see where it takes me. That's a relief. I put my arm around her shoulder, pull her close and kiss her in the soft spot right below her ear. The smell of her perfume fills the air around her.

“What's that for?” she asks, laughing.

“For being you.”

We don't stay too much longer because Will is getting tired. I doubt he'll be able to go back to school sooner than next week, boring TV or not. I promise to keep bringing his assignments over. Renee has to get home to work with some other kids on a group project, so I drive to her house.

When I pull up at the curb, I stop and turn off the car. “I want you to know that what you said at Will's, about not having to understand how it all works? And how we can be confident knowing that everything is happening the way it should? That really helped me.” I brush my hand against her cheek. “I was starting to feel like I had this huge responsibility. Now I think just accepting it is enough.”

“I'm glad. There will always be more of what we don't understand than what we do understand.” I lean forward and gently touch my lips to hers and she responds by kissing me harder. I put my hand on the back of her neck and pull her closer, kissing her fiercely.
I really love this girl
, I think and it fills me with happiness. She pulls away after a few moments and says a little breathlessly, “I'd really love to continue this, but I have to meet up
with my project group. Do you want to come over after dinner to study?”

“Yes … to be continued?”

“We'll see,” she says with a wink. I watch her walk across the lawn to the front door. Ostensibly to be sure she can get inside, but really because I just love watching her.

On the way home, I decide to go for a run. The weather is fantastic and I don't want to get out of shape now that soccer is over. Nobody's home when I get there except the dogs, who greet me like I've been away for years. I take the stairs two at a time up to my room and change into shorts and a t-shirt and my running shoes. Ralph and Speck get excited when they see my shoes, thinking perhaps a walk might be in store for them. They run in circles around my legs, almost tripping me in their excitement.

“Sorry guys, maybe later.” They look so disappointed when I leave them inside that I decide to take them out after my run as a cool down.

After stretching and some warm ups, I start a slow jog on the road that leads out of town. Even though it's warm, the air has a bit of an edge, like the cold is just waiting to return. The earthy smell of fallen leaves and cut grass fills the air as people get home from work and take advantage of the nice weather to mow the lawn one last time. I'm feeling strong and loose, so I pick up the pace and decide to make this a long run. When I get to the outskirts of town, I turn onto the road that goes past the lagoons. The sun is dropping low on the horizon, turning the sky orange and gold. I look over at the field and the tree where Will crashed his car and see that it has a big gash in its side. But also, what I didn't notice that night in the dark, I see that it's covered in blazing red leaves. The light from the setting sun makes it
seem like the tree is on fire, glowing gold around the crimson leaves. And I also see, or maybe just imagine, another light. Through the mostly bare trees it seems like there's a soft glow coming from where the star-gazing rock sits on the shore of the lagoon. A feeling of incredible well-being washes over me. I don't stop to look, I just keep running. I don't need to see it to believe it's real.

I hear honking overhead and look up to see a flock of geese pass over me. They're flying in a V and for a few moments, the lead goose flies directly above me, in sync with my pace. Then I reach the end of the road and turn left. The geese keep flying, heading south, and I run on, towards home.

Tracy Richardson wasn't always a writer, but she was always a reader. Her favorite book growing up was
A Wrinkle in Time
by Madeleine L'Engle. In a weird way that book has even shaped her life through odd synchronicities. She has a degree in biology like Mrs. Murry and without realizing it she named her children Alex and Katie after Meg's parents.

Tracy uses her science background in her writing through her emphasis on environmental issues and metaphysics. When she's not writing, you'll find her doing any number of creative activities—painting furniture, knitting sweaters, or cooking something in the kitchen for her vegetarian, carnivore, and no-carb family. She lives outside of Indianapolis with her husband and two children and their Jack Russell terrier, Ernie.