The Exile

by Gregory Erich Phillips

  “Yes.”

  “Come with me. I want to show you something.” He gathered his tools and folded them into a satchel. He tossed the remains of his yucca plant into the specimen bag.

  Leila hesitated, mistrusting. What is he up to? After a moment, she stood up. He seemed all right.

  Ashford led up the next hill, away from the house. The trail grew steep. She had wanted a walk this morning, so she didn’t mind.

  “We’ll be just in time,” he said.

  “In time for what?” She quickened her pace.

  “Sunrise on Cathedral Rock.”

  Just then, the sun cracked over the ridge behind them. Twenty yards farther, they reached the top of their own hill. Leila gasped.

  Nearly a mile away across the valley rose Cathedral Rock with its many spires, glowing orange and gold in the morning sun. Each ring of the sandstone formation stood out sharply in varying colors, splashed by the horizontal rays. A forest of deep-green pines, occasionally broken by the orange ground, covered the expanse between them and the monument. The valley was still in shadow. Cathedral Rock shone over everything like a beacon. It looked so strong and ancient, yet also fragile, like it could crumble to dust at any moment.

  “Isn’t it magnificent?” he asked.

  “It is.”

  She breathed the cool morning scents rising from the forested valley: pine, clay, dewy grass. As if rising with the scents and enveloping the beauty everywhere, a wonderful feeling of peace washed over her. Leila didn’t leave much time in her life for peace. She was grateful for the moment.

  They stood for a few more minutes in silence as the sunlight spread. It was a strange moment, almost romantic in its way, between two people who had just met—he with dirt all over his hands and she having just rolled out of bed. If it weren’t for the dirt, would he have tried to kiss her? That was usually what boys brought girls to places like this to do.

  What a scandal that would be if Samantha found out.

  She turned back to him, smiling broadly. She was glad she had decided to trust him.

  “Thank you. I bet this will be the highlight of my trip.”

  He smiled back at her with a look that she recognized all too well. He was probably calculating the odds of a kiss attempt or at least wondering what it would feel like.

  “I’d better get back.” She wanted to preserve the lovely moment and carve the peace in her memory before it changed.

  She hurried back down the hill and up the other side toward the mansion. Movement had begun on the other side of its many windows. The building with its pristine grounds didn’t look so impressive now compared to the glorious monument across the valley.

  5

  “Oh God, my head hurts.”

  “Why do you drink so much, Mom? It makes you miserable.”

  Samantha smirked. “College boy lectures mother about her drinking.”

  “I’m not lecturing you. Just saying.”

  The veranda had been cleaned from last night’s event, but vibrations from the party lingered in the air. The cold ashes from the dead fire still infused everything with a smoky scent.

  Ashford looked across the table at his mother. Despite her hangover, she looked impeccable as always, in a crisp white blouse and designer jeans, with her hair and makeup flawless. At least he had washed his hands after his morning in the desert.

  “If you really want to know,” she said, “bad as I may feel now, last night was so much fun, it was all worth it. Best night of my year.”

  “I’m glad you’re happy, Mom. I worry about you though.”

  “I know.”

  The waiter came back with a sandwich for Ashford and bacon and eggs for Samantha.

  “Can you bring me a pamplemosa?”

  The waiter looked at her with a blank stare.

  “That’s champagne and grapefruit juice.” She turned back toward Ashford. “I need a little hair of the dog. Can you drive us home, honey?”

  “Sure. I like the drive.”

  “You take good care of me. You always have.” She smiled. “I’m not surprised you wanted to study medicine. It suits you.”

  “You weren’t always so encouraging.”

  “I have high expectations for you. That’s why I want you to go to med school. I’d love to see you become a doctor.”

  “Mom, I’ve told you a million times—all I want is to be an RN.” School for another eight years so he could plant himself on the upper floor of a hospital for the next thirty? No thanks.

  “Just give it some thought. I’ll pay for everything.”

  Ashford nodded noncommittally. A high-desert breeze passed their table, refreshing his senses. For a moment, the smells of nature cut through the stale post-party air of the veranda. He looked out past the gate toward the rolling red-sand hills beyond. Birds chirped in the distant trees.

  “I’ve always been reckless with my money,” Samantha said. “I’d like to be reckless spending it on your future while I can. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be driving this gravy train.”

  “You seem to have it pretty well in hand.”

  “It can’t last forever. My business is diamonds in your pocket one day, debt collectors at your door the next.”

  They ate for a few minutes in silence.

  “I don’t know how you got such a steady temperament, coming from me and your father, but I’m glad.” She sipped her drink. “You’ll make a better career for yourself than either of us did. You might not make as much money as me, but it will be steadier, whether you choose to become a doctor or just an RN.” She paused. “I’ll be proud of you either way, but I want you to promise you’ll think about it.”

  “I will, Mom.” His eyes drifted off again. He didn’t blame her for wanting him to be as successful as possible. After she suffered so many disappointments and tragedies because of Stewart, Ashford was supposed to be the son who did everything right.

  It was hard to get away from the expectations even when his decision had been made. Now that he was so close, it didn’t feel like the time to overthink his career choice. He wanted so badly to get to work and stop relying on his mother’s support for everything. She said he had freedom now, but the freedom she thought she gave him was really a handicap. He had allowed that to be the case, though, for her sake as much as his own.

  She relied on him too. She had no one else now. The world saw Samantha as the strongest, most independent woman imaginable. Ashford alone had seen the darkest side of her. When he finally moved away, it would be harder for her than for him.

  An hour later, he drove his mother’s BMW SUV on the winding road down through the Sedona hills. His eyes took in all the landmarks he knew so well. He loved it up here: the beauty, the cool air, the spiritual energy that emanated from the rocks.

  He glanced over at his mother in the passenger seat. She would be asleep before they hit Highway 17.

  This morning, that girl had told him he was wrapped up in his mother’s world whether he wanted to admit it or not. She thought she had offended him, but he appreciated her frankness. If he went to med school, followed by years of a residency, he would remain dependent upon his mother and her world for the rest of his twenties, if not longer. His mother wanted to give him that gift—and he genuinely believed she felt it was the best thing she could do with her success. He yearned to make his own quieter way. Nursing wouldn’t make him a lot of money, but he expected that if he could make an impact with his work, he would be happy.

  He shouldn’t have come with her this weekend. He had been tempted because he loved Sedona, and it was a light weekend for studying, but it was weird to tag along at his age. Deep down, he always worried a little about his mother when he wasn’t close by. But he couldn’t stay by her side forever.

  The road straightened out, and, far ahead, he saw the interstate cutting across his path. Sure enough, his mother was asleep.

  It had been seven years since Stewart died. The fact that his older brother had lived that lon
g was remarkable. He’d had a weak heart that should have killed him as an infant. Still, Samantha blamed herself. If she and Stewart had not become estranged, she reasoned, he would have taken more care for his condition. Ashford wasn’t so sure. Stewart had been as stubborn as their mother. He had always lived in a way that almost challenged his weak heart to keep up. It was while working on a construction site that his heart finally gave out. If it hadn’t been there, it would have been somewhere else.

  Samantha had been unprepared for it. The estrangement probably made the news hurt even more. When Ashford got home from school, his mother had been locked in her room with a bottle of vodka. Ashford didn’t know what to think, what to do. He hadn’t been close with his brother, who was five years older and always treated him roughly. While he tried to grieve that night, he worried more for his mother. He heard fits of crying, followed by angry words. Ashford’s father later told him she had called him that night in a drunken rage. It was the first time his mother and father had spoken in years, and they had not spoken again since.

  Late that night, Ashford found her bedroom door open. He searched the house for her, finally finding her asleep in her running car as the garage filled with exhaust. He dragged her out to the front lawn and forced her to vomit. She woke up just as the EMTs arrived, and she refused to go to the hospital. He sat up awake with her the rest of the night. He came that close to losing his brother and his mother on the same day.

  The next morning, she was herself again. She claimed not to remember anything that had happened the night before—the phone call to her ex-husband, the smoke-filled garage, the arrival of the ambulance. Considering how much alcohol she’d drunk, Ashford considered it plausible that she had blacked out, but he also wondered if she just wanted to pretend she didn’t remember so she could keep her pride. He allowed her her dignity, never telling anyone about what happened, never even bringing it up with her. He never saw her sink to that kind of place again. She seldom mentioned Stewart again either. But Ashford worried about her. He had seen what was possible.

  Today, for the first time, the thought crossed his mind that she might be using what happened to keep him close. He wanted to be there for her, just like he always had, but he had his own life to live too. In a few months, he’d be done with nursing school. He would still have a nine-month internship to complete, but he decided to try to find a concurrent part-time job. He’d need to do better than selling dried desert weeds at tea shops and farmers’ markets if he wanted a place of his own.

  The highway slid through the middle desert with a forked cactus forest on both sides of the road. As he drove down the slope, the color of the sand lightened, the cacti disappeared, and the desert was bare. Even in the air-conditioned car, he could feel that the heat outside had increased significantly. Such sharp changes to the terrain was one of the things he loved about Arizona. Soon, the sprawl of Phoenix would come into view.

  6

  “HOLA, PAPÁ.”

  Leila bypassed the front door and walked around to the back of her dad’s house.

  “Hey, ¿Quibo?”

  Manny set down his tongs and bottle of beer as Leila wrapped him in a hug. A few black specks from his grill transferred from his T-shirt onto her white tank top, but she didn’t care.

  Glancing up, she saw his wife coming down the back steps.

  “Buenas, Carmen.” Leila kissed her stepmother on the cheek.

  “I just made some iced tea. Would you like some?”

  “Sure.”

  Carmen walked back up the two steps into the adobe house. Leila sat on a padded wire chair and crossed her legs in the sun. The feet of the chair scraped against the small stones of the patio. Two azalea bushes in full bloom climbed up the back fence. In one corner, opposite from the crackling grill, stood a two-foot-tall porcelain statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary. A neighbor’s palm tree leaned toward the small yard, but it was too early for it to give any shade.

  She watched her father as he turned his meats. Despite his sedentary lifestyle and his age, his frame remained strong. His dark hair only had a few wisps of gray. He always combed it straight back, accentuating his receding hairline, which he embraced without shame. His round belly spoke of his love for good meat and good beer.

  “How are your knees?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Never get old, that’s what I say.”

  “I’ll make a deal with the devil.” They both laughed.

  Leila inhaled deeply, welcoming the sun on her face. “March is so perfect.”

  “Soon, it will be much too hot.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  Carmen returned and handed her a glass of iced tea.

  “When will you convince this man to retire?” Leila asked her.

  “Oh, I try to tell him. He won’t listen. He loves to work too much.”

  Leila smiled, remembering her conversation with him only a week ago on this same patio. Maybe he did still love to work, but he kept it in perspective.

  “Work keeps me sharp.” Manny looked at them as he turned his chorizo and skirt steak. “I was idle as a young man, and it only got me in trouble. If I were idle now that I am old, I would get in trouble again.”

  Both women laughed.

  “I still have a lot to work for. I won’t become a burden to you.” He looked Leila straight in her eyes. “You kept up your end of the bargain. I have to keep up mine.”

  Their eyes held for a moment longer. Yes, she knew.

  Leila leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. The air was pungent with the smell of spring flowers and charred meat. She held her cool glass of tea on her leg, where it sweated refreshing droplets onto her skin.

  “Is that my Leila I hear?”

  Her eyes opened as she looked toward the voice. A dainty head with blond hair and sparkling brown eyes popped up over the wood fence.

  “Hey, Jen.”

  “Hey yourself. What the hell, not calling me?”

  “Sorry. Come on over. We’re about to have lunch.”

  “Yes, join us,” Manny encouraged.

  “You come over here first. I want to talk to you.”

  Leila took her glass of tea and scampered to the sidewalk and then to the other side of the fence into the neighbor’s yard. They should have put in a gate between the two yards years ago. Ever since Jen’s family bought this house before her junior year of high school, she and Leila had been friends. They were in the same grade even though Leila was older.

  As soon as Leila reached her, Jen ducked back inside and headed to the back of her house. Leila followed.

  “I wish you could have come to Lake Pleasant last weekend. We had so much fun.”

  “It probably would have been more fun than I had in Sedona.”

  “Oh, come on.” Jen shoved her arm. “Big-shot businesswoman. I bet you had more fun than you want to admit.”

  Leila sat down on Jen’s bed while her friend leaned against her desk, scattered with neglected schoolwork. She was a fifth-year senior at Arizona State.

  “Did you meet any new boys up there?”

  “Is that all you ever want to talk about? I was secluded in a mansion with a bunch of mortgage lenders and real estate agents. Not ideal for meeting boys.”

  “You can meet boys anywhere.”

  “Actually, I had kind of forgotten. I did meet a boy there.”

  “See? Do tell.” Jen’s eyes danced with intrigue.

  “There’s really nothing to tell.” Privately, she enjoyed remembering that morning on the hillside. But if she told Jen about it, she’d try to infuse it with meaning.

  Jen sighed. “I wish you’d try harder.”

  “Why do you care so much that I get a boyfriend? You don’t have one either.”

  “Because I want you to be happy, and I think you’re letting what happened in high school cloud your judgment.”

  “I’m just cautious. I don’t want my heart to be broken again . . . ever.”

  “You can’t li
ve like that though. Forget about how it was back then. You were in a tough spot from the start. It was a . . . an unusual situation. All those scrawny seventeen-year-olds and then . . . va-va-voom . . . here comes twenty-year-old you.”

  Leila laughed despite the unpleasantness of her memories from those days. Jen was right. The high school boys were all either intimidated by her or wanted to bed her just to brag.

  “Not much has changed.”

  “Have you even given a guy a chance since then?”

  “Don’t you remember Vince?”

  “Oh, I had forgotten about him.”

  Of course she had. Leila looked at the sharp slant of midday light coming in through her friend’s bedroom window. She wished she hadn’t brought up the memory, but here it was—how he had made her love him so he could get a few nights of sex. It was a year of her life, being pursued by him, gradually developing feelings for him, and then suffering the heartbreak and shame after it was over.

  “Not all boys are like Vince though,” Jen said.

  “Well, for whatever reason, I always find the boys who want to sleep with me, not the ones who want to love me.”

  Why did Jen always want to talk about this stuff? Funny, skinny, blond Jen. She had it so easy and didn’t even realize it. What made Jen think she needed to be her relationship counselor? Oh, maybe her friend did just want her to be happy.

  After a minute, Jen stood up and glanced out her bedroom window. “I’ll miss Manny and Carmen when I graduate and move out.”

  “You’ll visit your parents a lot, just like I do.”

  “I know.” She turned back toward Leila. “Do you ever regret holding yourself back so far in school?”

  “Hmm. Not really. It was tough, and I’m sure if you’d asked me that question at certain points along the way, I would have answered differently. I’m glad now that I took the extra years of school. Remember, when I came here from Colombia at twelve, I didn’t speak a word of English and I had barely even gone to school there. I knew nothing.”

  “Why didn’t Manny send you to school in Colombia? I mean, considering Intel sponsored your move, I imagine your dad’s well educated.”