Prairie Fire

by Djuna Shellam

  “Um, Em…” Prairie began somewhat hesitantly. She had no idea what was in the envelope, and had wondered from the moment she found it and the note telling how important its delivery was. She held the envelope out for Em. “Fiona wanted you to have this.”

  “What is it?” Em asked as she took the envelope.

  “I don’t know,” Prairie admitted. “There was a note attached to it from Fiona. She said I had to give it to you, so…”

  “Oh.”

  “You should read it,” Prairie urged. “Right now.” She didn’t know why, but Prairie felt strongly that Em should read the contents sooner than later.

  “Oh, okay.” Em looked at Eve for guidance or something… anything. She started to open the envelope.

  Eve put her hand on Em’s and stopped her from opening the envelope right there. She urged Em, “You should go read it in your library, babe. We’ll stay here and keep Liam company.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  Tick Tock

  23.1—The Envelope

  Em excused herself and headed for the library. Her father’s. Hers. It was where she wrote, where she worked out plot problems, researched, pondered—where she went when she needed time to just be quiet and think. It was also where she remembered her father best, where she was more often than not flooded with memories of him. The envelope she held in her hand reminded her of the envelope that contained the letter from her father—his last to her.

  She sat in the upholstered leather chair, the one with the “poultry tax,” as she called the upholstery tacks as a little girl. She closed her eyes. Em didn’t want to do this. Her life had been turned upside down already. She suspected a letter was in the envelope, and the very last thing she wanted was to read a letter from Fiona from the grave. Though technically, there was no grave, still, she didn’t want to read it. But Em knew she had to. It’s what Fiona wanted; and hopefully, it would help her make sense of everything.

  Carefully, Em tore open the envelope. She was hit with the faint scent of Fiona’s perfume, which immediately sent Em to another place in time. She closed her eyes, put her face to the opening of the envelope and drew in a deep breath. Em’s eyes began to well with tears. She wiped them away and reached into the envelope, pulling out a handwritten, multi-page letter, from her dear departed love, Fiona. Fiona Elizabeth McIntyre. Tears slid slowly down Em’s face. She would never again call Fiona by her full name, something she enjoyed doing to get Fiona’s goat. Em looked inside the envelope, feeling there was something else.

  “What’s this?”

  She turned the envelope upside down. A small, folded piece of paper fluttered out and onto the desk. Em opened it up to find what appeared to be a poem, written in Fiona’s hand. She read it carefully, each and every line breaking her heart.

  The ever ticking tock

  Upon the mantle mine

  Ticks its tock

  Reminds

  Remind

  Remind

  Seconds minutes

  Hours and days

  Weeks then months

  Years… Decades

  Long since

  Going

  Gone

  Gone

  Tick tock… tick tock… tick tock

  Every tick… Every tock

  Reminds

  Remind

  Remind

  Brings ever

  Closer

  Close

  Close

  The last…

  Ticking…

  Tock…

  Tock…

  Within this heart

  Mine.

  Em wept softly, and felt she was about to go mad with grief. It just kept getting worse. She could feel something was still in the envelope, stuck perhaps. She peered inside. Em then pulled out six eight-by-ten black and white photos from the envelope. Upon seeing what they were, her breath caught. Her heart cried as she stared at the photos, filled with awe. They were of her. They were photos Fiona had taken of Em at the beach so many years ago that Em had never seen before. “Oh my god, Fi…” Em was stunned. The way she looked at the camera, at Fiona—it was pure, unabashed… love. Em loved her.

  In a moment, Em was lost in the past, trying to remember, desperately, everything she could about Fiona. It occurred to her that in time, memories of Fiona that hadn’t already faded or disappeared completely, would continue to do so until they were gone forever. She couldn’t stand the thought of it. All she could think was that Fiona was no more. She was gone. Em began to cry again, quietly, as she folded her arms on the desk and laid her head down. She closed her eyes and tried to remember.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Em & Fiona Part 1

  24.1—1978

  “I’m here.” Fiona stood in Prairie’s living room with her bags at her feet and the phone receiver pressed to her ear.

  “Oh, good! Did you have any trouble finding it?” Prairie asked. “Did you rent a car?”

  “Yes. You give good directions,” Fiona replied, playing with the phone cord. “It was easy, except for the whole driving on the right side of the road. Haven’t done that in a while. Oh, and the traffic! Blimey…” Already the culture shock was significant. Fiona already missed the tranquil, easy-going pace of the English village where she had lived for nearly ten years.

  Prairie stood at the edge of her desk, looking out into the training room. “Did you meet Em? Is she there? Did you see her?” she asked nervously.

  “No, she isn’t here right now,” Fiona replied. “I don’t think. I knocked before I came in and waited, but… I really just walked in now, and looked for the phone straight away.”

  “Huh. Okay.” Prairie grimaced. “Well… the thing is, Fi… I haven’t been able to get in touch with her, so… she kinda doesn’t know you’re going to stay there for a while. I’ve been calling and calling, but she’s never home, and…”

  “What?” Fiona exclaimed, immediately distressed. “She doesn’t know I was coming? Bloody hell! Prairie…” Fiona was instantly uncomfortable with the arrangement. She knew Prairie and Em were a couple, albeit a long-distance couple, but a couple nonetheless, and felt there could be problems given that she and Prairie had been intimate in the past. “I don’t know if this is a good idea, Prair. I should just stay somepl—”

  “No,” Prairie interrupted. “Fi, it’s okay. Em will be fine with you being there. I promise.” She hoped. “I just need to find her and let her know, okay?”

  “Does she know about us? You know… England?” Fiona hated to mention England, knowing it was a source of great pain and disappointment for Prairie, even though it seemed that Prairie had worked through it during their years of estrangement.

  “Um…” Prairie hesitated long enough for Fiona to figure out that she hadn’t told Em.

  “You haven’t.”

  “No.” Prairie hung her head. She didn’t want to, knowing it would probably create friction between the two women she loved the most in the world.

  Fiona couldn’t decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing that Em didn’t know about her past relationship or whatever it was she had with Prairie. She never thought of it as a relationship, but clearly Prairie had. As far as Fiona was concerned, it was a fun time together between best mates and roommates. She learned through her very unhappy ending with Prairie that her view was not widely held or popular. “Well, I’m not going to tell her.”

  “Yeah, I think that’s probably a good idea. I mean, when and if she finds out, it should be from me.” One of the team players was looking in Prairie’s direction as if he needed her. “Look, Fi, I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll try to find Em and let her know. Just use the spare bedroom, and totally make yourself at home. Everything will be fine. Really.”

  “Right. Okay. Thanks again, Prairie. I really appreciate you letting me stay here until I figure out what I’m going to do.” Having just left the Air Force after ten years of service, the last eight of them spent in England, Fiona was feeling a strange mixture of elation and pan
ic. Making decisions for herself was a foreign concept to her, and even the U.S. had become foreign to her in certain respects. It was going to take a bit of an adjustment before she felt completely comfortable with her new circumstances. Staying at a friend’s house rather than a motel somewhere was supposed to alleviate some of her anxiety; but now, with Prairie’s lover not even knowing she was going to stay there, it just heightened her angst.

  “No problem, Fi.” Prairie waved at the needy player, indicating she’d be right with him. “Anything you need, just let me know, okay? Listen, I gotta go. I’ll call you later. ‘Bye.”

  “Tara.” Fiona hung up the phone and drew in a breath, shaking her head nervously. She was a bit undone about Em not yet knowing that she was moving in for a while. Fiona just hoped Prairie got to Em before Em came home.

  She pondered which she should do first, check out the house and get the lay of the land, or unpack. She didn’t know when Em would arrive and she wanted to do her discovery in private, before Em showed up.

  “Ugh!” she exclaimed out of frustration. It was decided. The unpacking could wait—Fiona needed to explore first to take her mind off of everything.

  24.2—Worse Than Being Alone

  “I think we should be finished in the next day or so, Barbie,” Em said as she carefully thumbed through a collection of receipts, placing them in their proper pile, determined by month.

  “God I hope so,” Barbie replied from across the long foldable table in her office. There was frustration in her voice as she pushed a strand of black wavy hair back away from her eyes. “Lovey’s been on my butt for months to get everything organized so she can file my tax return, but… it’s just not my thing. She’s pissed as hell at me that she had to file an extension for me—again. You know Lovey.”

  Em smiled.

  “I’m so glad you offered to help me with this mess,” Barbie looked across the table covered with piles of unsorted receipts and winked at Em. Her dark blue eyes sparkled. “You’re doing a great job.”

  Em blushed a little. “I’m glad I could help. I don’t have much to do anyway, so…”

  “It worked out perfectly.”

  Em nodded, “It did. I just wish you wouldn’t pay me…”

  “Stop. I’m not going to ask you to help me without paying you, silly rabbit. It’s nothing. It’s a business expense.” Barbie grinned. “We’ll just throw it on the pile with the rest.”

  “I’d do it for free. I don’t mind,” Em insisted.

  “No, you won’t, and that’s final.”

  Barbie watched Em studiously go through each and every receipt, making sure it was placed in the correct pile. She couldn’t help remembering back to when Prairie first brought Em to the house, nearly two years earlier, and thinking how much Em had changed since then. Then, she was a scared, wild animal, traumatized from her near molestation, and exhausted from the ordeal of her accident and its horrible and seemingly unending aftermath. Shy, quiet, distrustful, angry and feeling alone, Em seemed unreachable. Now, Barbie saw a woman on the mend, poised, polite, beautiful and kind.

  Though she tried her best to hide it from everyone, Em was obviously lonely since Prairie left for a job with the Bluejays. She was still a thousand percent better than she was before, but there was an unmistakable sadness about her. Barbie and Gwen had tried to include Em in whatever was going on at the house since Prairie left, but it was obvious to them that Em without Prairie was not working for her.

  “How are you doing all by yourself over there?” Barbie asked gently, already knowing the answer, but hoping to give Em an opportunity to talk about anything that might be bothering her.

  “Here?” Em asked, confused.

  “I’m sorry. Left field,” Barbie chuckled. “I meant, how are you doing over there at the house… without Prairie?”

  “Oh.” Em sighed. “Well… I miss her. The house is so… missing her, too. It’s so quiet and lonely. Sometimes, I think…”

  “You know you’re always welcome to come back to our house, but…” Barbie stopped herself. She didn’t want to intrude on Em and Prairie’s relationship. The question was, she wondered, was there still a relationship? If so, would there be for long? “Are you two… good? I mean, long-distance isn’t easy…”

  Em exhaled deeply. She dropped her hands into her lap, clutching a batch of receipts and let her shoulders sag. She wanted desperately to tell Barbie how miserable she was; how she wasn’t sure how much longer she could continue the charade of “being with Prairie.” The phone calls were becoming fewer and farther between. Each call was shorter and more impersonal, with the weather becoming the main focus of their conversations. The disconnect that was growing between them was almost more than Em could stand. She missed Prairie, her company, her love, her moral support. The honest answer was no, they weren’t good.

  “It’s…” Em began quietly. “It’s almost worse than being alone, Barbie. I mean, you know, than being single. At least if you’re single, in theory, if you get lonely, you can…” she shrugged. “But I’m not saying…” Em added quickly.

  Barbie pursed her lips. Just what she expected. “Say no more. I get you. That’s why long-distance relationships are hard, and…” never work she wanted to say, but didn’t. Barbie sighed, wishing she could do something for Em other than feel sorry for her. Out of habit, Barbie looked at her watch. Noticing the time, she immediately jumped out of her chair. “Oh, shit. Shit! We gotta go, Em,” Barbie said with urgency. “I’m supposed to meet Chipper at a client’s in less than an hour, and I need to run you home first. We’ll get back after this mess tomorrow—if you want to, that is.”

  “Of course I do, Barbie. I like helping,” Em placed the unsorted receipts on the table.

  “Okay, kiddo. Let’s hit the road.”

  Easing herself out of the chair, Em grabbed her cane off the back of the chair and slowly followed Barbie out of the office. She wasn’t ready to go home, knowing there was nothing there for her, but she was at the mercy of whoever had a car and was willing to drive her where she needed to go. Em made a mental note to herself that she needed to figure out how to get her own transportation sooner than later. She almost felt as if she was still trapped in a wheelchair, and that just would not do.

  24.3—Opium

  Unpacked, Fiona wanted to explore the area around where she would be living. She’d never been to Los Angeles, let alone the bedroom community of Highland Park. There was nothing to do in the house, so she took the key Prairie had left for her under the doormat, locked up the house and took off in her rental car. She hoped Em would have returned by the time she got back.

  Not two minutes later, Barbie pulled her late model white Chevy pickup truck up to the curb and stopped.

  “Okay, sweetie. Thanks again for the help. I’ll pick you up in the morning, okay? Seven-thirty sound good?” Barbie asked.

  “Sure, fine. I’ll be ready,” Em said as she opened the truck door. She let herself slide slowly off the seat down to the street. Barbie reached across the passenger seat and handed Em her cane.

  “Thanks, Barbie,” Em said, smiling. “Say hi to Chip for me.”

  Barbie grinned. “Will do. See you tomorrow, kiddo.” Em closed the door and Barbie immediately drove off.

  Em carefully stepped up onto the curb and then looked at the stairs before her. She always hated coming home knowing those stairs would be waiting for her. How many times had she wished Prairie had included her in the house hunting process? Too many, she concluded as she started the slow and cumbersome climb up thirty-two concrete stairs.

  ~/~/~/~/~

  The moment Em opened the front door she smelled it—Prairie’s unmistakable perfume. Opium. Immediately excited, Em called out, “Prairie?” and hurried as fast as was possible to their room. She flung open the door, expecting evidence of Prairie, but everything was exactly as she had left it that morning. Puzzled, Em looked around the room, shrugged her shoulders and went into the kitchen. “Prair? Honey, are you h
ere?” she called out, but to no avail.

  The living room was the same, Prairie wasn’t in the backyard… Of course! Em immediately headed to the bathroom, the only room other than the guest room she hadn’t checked. The second she opened the door, Em knew something was amiss. She could smell the Opium perfume, but there were also toiletries on the counter she didn’t recognize. She reeled back slightly, confused.

  “What on earth is going on here?” she wondered out loud. “I need to call her.”

  Em went to the telephone in the living room and immediately dialed Prairie’s number at work, but there was no answer. She let the phone ring over ten times before she hung up. Next she called Prairie’s apartment in Buffalo with the same result. Em then tried Gwen’s office, but she was in a meeting. Stumped, she began to get upset. “What is going on?” she asked out loud, frustrated.

  Her attention turned to the guest room. As quickly as she could, Em made her way across the living room and down the hall. The door was closed. She knocked. “This is stupid. This is my house!” Em proclaimed as she flung open the door. There were empty suitcases on the floor, and small piles of clothing folded and neatly arranged on the bed. Em entered the room and crossed to the bed. She took a quick, visual, inventory and didn’t recognize the clothes or the suitcases.

  Em began to feel emotions she couldn’t name. Did she feel betrayed? Invaded? Deceived? Was she so inconsequential that Prairie would make decisions without her input? It wouldn’t be the first time, or the second… or even the third. Em scowled. She was not happy. Who, exactly, was this person who had moved in without her knowledge or consent? And worst of all, the smell of Prairie’s perfume evoked feelings in Em—the uncontrollable fire she always felt around Prairie—that had all but disappeared in the many months since she left. It was jarring and unsettling to Em to feel so vulnerable, filled with longing so intense it was physically painful.