The Many and the One

by Donald Wells

  * * *

  Jason and the limousine crash into the picnic table a split second apart. Jason skims over the tabletop and feels a tremor from the impact of the car at the same instant he smashes into Lindsay.

  The momentum of his leap shoves her off the other side of the bench, just as the car’s bumper slaps hard against the heel of his right shoe, sending him and Lindsay into a sideways spiral.

  They crash brutally onto the ground, rolling amid the cacophony of destruction, as jagged shards of the table fly all about them. The massive car turns the table into little more than kindling, as the limousine continues its path toward the cliff.

  An edge of its front fender strikes the granite bench, throwing off sparks as it gouges out a jagged groove in its side, then, after smashing through the wooden safety railing, it disappears over the precipice, hurtling toward Tyler and the children below. Seconds later, there comes an explosion, followed by the sounds of panicked and frightened children.

  Jason and Lindsay lie motionless on the ground in a tangled pile. Jason slowly lifts his head and looks down at Lindsay beneath him. She lies with eyes closed, limp, unmoving.

  “Lindsay?” Jason shakes her, terror rising up his spine. “Lindsay!”

  She opens her eyes.

  “Jason I saw my entire life in a flash, everything.”

  “But baby are you all right? I hit you pretty hard.”

  Lindsay stares at him, awed. “You saved my life.”

  In the next instant, they speak the same thought. “Simona?”

  They rise on unsteady legs and search for her with their eyes.

  Paul and Chief Rollins make it to their side as they spot her. Simona lies in the grass, still, so very still. Sunshine licks at her face while whining frantically, lying nearby is a large fragment of the demolished table.

  The four of them reach her at the same moment. Lindsay bends down and tenderly lifts Simona off the grass and onto her lap, as Jason kneels beside her.

  Chief Rollins takes her tiny wrist and feels for a pulse. After a few moments his face turns ashen, and he lays her small hand down.

  It is not the lack of a pulse that disheartens him against revival. He sees the fatal wound.

  Simona’s golden bangs had fallen aside as Lindsay caressed her fragile body. The top of her forehead is crushed, concaved, where the piece of shattered table must have struck her as she played with her puppy, killing her instantly.

  Paul gasps, as he also realizes the truth, and watches helplessly as comprehension and horror dawn on his friends’ faces.

  Jason and Lindsay collapse on the grass while holding the precious body of their beloved daughter between them, and cry out in pure emotional agony.

  From below, come the shrieks and screams of the children on the beach. Paul, still reeling in a sick anguish of his own at this loss, picks himself up off the grass to follow his mentor, Chief Rollins, toward the sounds of even more possible horrors below.

  As Simone arrives on the scene, he gazes at her with a grief-stricken and contorted face. Paul then turns and makes his way to the stone steps that lead to the beach, knowing that behind him, he leaves two people broken beyond all measure, and wonders how they will ever carry on.

  30

  Obscenely, all three funerals occurred on the same day.

  While Charlotte was being placed into a mausoleum, little Simona was laid to rest on the other side of the cemetery, amid family and friends shaken to their cores by the sudden tragedy.

  At the top of her headstone was carved the image of a sunrise, a sunball. It sat above the words: Simona Lynn Reynolds: Beloved and Precious Daughter of Jason and Lindsay Reynolds.

  To Paul, it seemed as if his friends had gone away inside themselves somehow. Instead of looking out at the world, they both seemed to be giving it but a sideways glance from somewhere inside a patina of pain he prayed never to wear. Jason and Lindsay cried and held each other’s hand throughout the ceremony.

  At its conclusion, little Rosemary, Simona’s friend, went over and gave Lindsay a commiserative hug that seemed to last forever. Everyone understood. Rosemary’s small body must have felt to Lindsay, as if she were once more holding her own precious Simona.

  Only the police, hoping to find a clue to his accomplice, attended Harry’s interment.

  Derek stood solemnly as Charlotte was laid to rest. Joining him at graveside were McGee, Marta and Emily. No tears were cried here.

  Charlotte’s death was ruled a homicide committed during an attempted act of robbery by one Harrison Johnson and person or persons unknown.

  Simona was the only casualty at the Reynolds’ cabin, as the plummeting automobile miraculously missed killing or seriously injuring Tyler or the children on the beach.

  The car landed directly on top of the tent that was thankfully empty at the time. The nylon tent actually absorbed part of the explosive blast.

  Chief Rollins said the investigation would remain open until all guilty parties were apprehended.

  * * *

  Derek sits behind his desk in his office at his estate and looks across—at his McGee.

  “You work for me now.”

  “Yes Sir Senator.” McGee says.

  “You surprise me McGee; I thought you were going to say, ‘Sure kid.”

  “Those days are over.”

  “Yes they are.” Derek says. He leans back in his chair and sets his feet up on a corner of the desk, while crossing his legs at the ankles. “Mother spent her time running a real estate empire. I have neither the desire nor intention of doing the same thing.”

  “I don’t blame you; there are people who can do those things for you. I know of one company with a great reputation, they’ll free you from all that shitty paperwork and keep the money rolling in.”

  “Arrange it McGee, the sooner the better.”

  “Yes Sir Senator.”

  “What’s the company’s name, this real estate management company?”

  “Anin Management.”

  “Fine, let them handle the properties, my political career comes first.”

  Across the desk, McGee offers silent prayers of gratitude to the Gods of patience.

  * * *

  Jason and Lindsay return to the cabin following the funeral and rigidly move about it as they have since the tragedy occurred.

  After bathing and changing clothes, they sit atop the hope chest at the foot of their bed. Both stare through the doorway into Simona’s room, where Boomer the Bear stands like a stout sentry guarding Simona’s beloved toys.

  They share a look and then Jason retrieves a key from atop his dresser, after closing the door to Simona’s room, he locks it. He then takes Lindsay by the hand and they head downstairs to the living room.

  They lie back together sideways on the sofa and Jason holds Lindsay in his arms and stares into the empty fireplace.

  This is their life now. Do those things that must be done and then hold each other and cry. Sometimes only one would be weeping, oftentimes both, but grief must have an outlet and the tears come of their own.

  They lie in the dark with no lights on and no sounds but their own grief. The memories too, come of their own.

  “Baby,” He had said.

  “Yes daddy?” She had answered.

  “Honey, you know how sometimes you wake early to see the sunball come up?”

  “Un huh,”

  “Well, what happens when it’s a really rainy morning with a lot of dark clouds?”

  “Then I can’t see it.”

  “That’s right, you can’t see it, but baby, isn’t the sunball still there, shining away behind the clouds?”

  “I… I guess so daddy.”

  “Well honey, there are times when life is like the sunball on a cloudy day. It’s still bright and shiny; it’s just that sometimes you can’t see it.”

  Yes, but now Jason also realizes that even the Sun itself can grow dark.

  Oh so dark and monstrously massive, that it collapses
in upon itself,

  Becoming an inescapable void, a Black Hole of limitless despair.

  A great dark sphere emitting neither radiance nor warmth,

  A darkness, encompassing everything about it,

  Until at last, nothing else remains.

  An immense ball of blackness,

  Which inevitably,

  Devours you,

  Whole

  THE

  MANY

  AND

  THE

  ONE

  PART THREE

  31

  Fifteen months later, Saturday October 6th, 1990

  The cabin in the sky lies dark and cold and abandoned.

  At its entrance, a strong chain anchored between posts lends physical reverberation to the attached sign: Private Property—No Trespassing

  Beyond a field of overgrown grass are faint signs that this had once been a place of life and light.

  A rusting grill sits open, its surfaces exposed to the elements. Farther on, a doghouse sits beside the various pieces of a child’s swing set, while among the weeds, a bicycle lies on its side with training wheels attached, wheels that need never be removed.

  The house itself reveals windows coated with a solid film of dust. And although the wind is chilled on this October day, no smoke pours fourth from the cabin’s three great chimneystacks and no light emanates from within its walls.

  Its silence gives voice to emptiness, its emptiness, speaks of loss. If this had indeed once been a place of life and light, then the life has left it, and the light, faded to nothingness.

  * * *

  Paris, France

  Jason stands with his arms folded across his chest, and looks out the second floor window of his Sister Angie’s apartment, on Boulevard Carnot, from behind comes the sound of cooing from Angie and David’s son, Cole Ryan, he is three-weeks-old.

  Jason turns and watches Lindsay snuggle the tiny child in her arms and gaze into his beautiful face, she is beaming.

  Lindsay turns to Angie, who’s sitting on a love seat behind her.

  “He’s the cutest thing in the world. I could just eat him up.”

  “I’m so glad you guys came for a visit. I haven’t seen you since the funer—in so long, and David and I were so worried about you, after what happened.”

  “I know sis.” Jason says.

  “Mom and dad are also worried about you Jas, and they miss you two something awful.”

  Angie’s husband David enters the nursery.

  “Hey, how’s my little champ?” David kisses his son in Lindsay’s arms, he then sits beside Angie. “We thought we could show you guys some more of the French countryside this weekend, maybe take a trip to the Bourgogne wine country.”

  Jason and Lindsay share a look.

  “David, Angie, we appreciate all the hospitality you’ve shown us, but we talked about it last night and we’re going to be moving on.”

  “Where are you guys traveling to next Jason?” David asks.

  “Home, we’re going home.”

  “Oh Jas, mom will be so thrilled. The last time we talked she was starting to fear you two would never come home again.”

  “We left, fled actually,” Lindsay says, “to get away from the memories that were in every corner of that house. It took a while, but we finally realized that except for at the end, they were all good, loving memories. Simona died, and nothing will ever change that. But our little angel wouldn’t want us to be sad, not sad forever. Jason and I both love that cabin and we made an excellent life there. We’re going to go back and do it again.”

  “Have you thought of having more children?” Angie asks.

  Lindsay smiles at Jason. “Someday, someday soon,” She then looks into the baby’s eyes and feels a bit more light enter her heart.

  “So when are you guys going back home?” David asks.

  “Tomorrow,” Jason says. “We’re going home tomorrow.”

  * * *

  They had closed up the cabin and headed to Hawaii.

  Just an overdue honeymoon they told everyone. We’ll be back soon.

  They sat on the beach and looked out at the beautiful Pacific.

  They did that for three months.

  They did not want to return, not yet, too soon.

  From Honolulu, they went to Japan. There, they sat around their Tokyo hotel suite for over a month. At night they would hold each other but had not made love since Simona died.

  It wasn’t until Australia that they admitted something was wrong.

  Both realized that they still grieved, but this level of depression seemed unnatural. So they planned to make love that night.

  Why not? They thought. We love each other deeply. The desire’s there, under the surface, and we’ve made love thousands of times before.

  It was a disaster. Jason couldn’t maintain an erection and Lindsay was as frigid as the Alaskan wilderness they had planned to run to next.

  We need help.

  An Australian therapist, an old woman who specializes in grief counseling, made them see that their inability at physical intimacy was actually a fear of procreation.

  “After the unbelievable trauma you’ve suffered, a lack of sexual desire seems quite normal. What I find surprising is that you two are still together.” Dr. Calger told them, while cleaning her eyeglasses with a tissue.

  “But doctor, why would we break up over this mutual loss, if anything wouldn’t it bond us closer together?” Lindsay asked.

  The doctor put her glasses back on and gazed at them with slightly magnified, yet sympathetic eyes. “Yes my dear, it could, but the guilt, the guilt from not being able to protect your child must be overwhelming.”

  And that, was the nail being hit on the head.

  They looked at each other and cried. Neither one had ever mentioned this for fear the other would think they were being blamed.

  We couldn’t protect her. Our Baby died. What if it happens again? We could not bear that agony twice.

  Yet, once the wound was attended to, it began to heal.

  Her death was not our fault.

  No, it wasn’t, in actuality Lindsay was lucky to have been saved herself, as well as Jason, who bravely and literally threw himself into the path of danger to save her.

  Our love is strong.

  In truth, there was none stronger. They love each other with their souls.

  We can heal.

  Simona, child that she was, would not want them to shrivel up and die.

  No, she would not have.

  And again they were lovers, as well as beloved.

  We can go on. We can rebuild our lives.

  Still, the Island seemed too painful a place to be. Six more months of traveling the world and healing the pain led them to the home of Jason’s sister, being with family brought out the happiness that had been waiting to be released. They found themselves laughing freely and the sight of little Cole brought only joy and no bitter remorse.

  We are healed. Let’s go home.

  Mothers and fathers, family and friends, familiar surroundings, these things are now all craved. Simona would always be a part of them, but it was time they became part of the future.

  Number One, Hills Road, Ocean Beach Island, New Jersey, was their next destination.

  Jason and Lindsay are going home to their cabin in the sky.

  32

  They gaze at the overgrown grass and dust-covered windows of the home they both so love, as Jason reaches down and unleashes the chain, letting it drop to the ground.

  The cabin as they enter it, smells as damp and unused as a basement. They place the debris of their travels by the front door and wander about, as if they had never lived here at all. After ascending the stairs they enter their bedroom and their eyes drift to the locked room that was Simona’s. Pain and tears well-up and it’s agreed then and there that one of the unconnected bedrooms down the hall will now serve as the master bedroom.

  They cannot look at that door every day. />
  They leave the cabin and reacquaint with family and friends. Seeing Paul and Simone make coming home a homecoming, and Paul Jr. has grown so much bigger that he looks like a different child, while Sunshine the puppy has become Sunshine the dog, and wags his tail in remembrance of his old masters.

  The following days at the cabin are a burst of activity and workman.

  Determined to restore their home to its former beauty they buy new furniture and clean until they collapse into bed at night, but the most startling change is outside the house.

  After paving the graveled driveway, they have a pair of black, wrought iron gates installed at the front of the property. They are twelve-feet high and nothing short of a tank can penetrate them. They open by hand-held remote or by entering the correct four-digit combination.

  Lightning may not strike twice in the same place, but Jason and Lindsay think, better safe than sorry; sorry hurts too much.

  They’d been away for over a year and already the old routines were returning. Jason would rise and put on coffee, as Lindsay slept a little later. Afterward, as he went about the house doing seasonal chores, such as fetching firewood in winter, or watering the garden in summer, the brightening illumination of a new morn would rouse Lindsay to start the day.

  On such a trip outdoors, to bring in firewood, he sees her, and it stops his heart cold.

  Seated at the granite bench and looking out over the sea is the silhouette of a child, a girl.

  Simona his heart screams, as his mind whispers, No, it cannot be her.

  Jason approaches the bench in a hesitant, sideways gait.