by ML Gardner
“I guess it won’t do any harm. Well, you know I see things. Visions of things that come true.” I thought of David. “Well, most of the time they come true. Anyway, I have seen things regarding Elizabeth’s future and her coming to me.”
“You mean crossing over to you?”
“No, I don’t see her crossing. Or dying. I just see someone I’m supposed to bring to her.”
“Who?”
“I have no idea. I saw him in my visions a few times, and then I met this old sailor in Rockport who had died a few days earlier. I recognized his nephew as the man in the visions. I have to save him. I don’t know why or how, but I’m waiting to bring him to Elizabeth. And somehow, he will help her get back to me.”
She stared at me for a long moment.
“Gosh, you really are nuts, aren’t you?” she said. Then she broke into a big grin and I exhaled in relief. “You know I’m kidding. But what do you mean you have to bring him to Elizabeth? You don’t have a choice?”
“That’s what it feels like, anyway. It doesn’t make sense. It’s hard to think about, and it will be harder than hell to actually go out of my way to bring her someone who will take my place. I can’t explain it. It’s like I can’t refuse, you know?” I dropped my voice to a whisper out of habit, hearing someone coming up the stairs. “I have to do it. I feel very compelled to find this man and save him, so he can save Elizabeth.”
“And you don’t see any way out of it?”
“There was only one time I was able to change the outcome of my visions. And I think that one was more of a warning to protect David. So I was able to change it. But I don’t think I can change this.” She nodded, trying to understand. “I think that’s when I’ll cross. When I know he will take care of her.”
We listened for a few moments to Elizabeth as she drained her bathwater and readied for bed in the bathroom next door.
“I feel bad,” she said suddenly.
“For Nicole?”
She nodded.
“Then why don’t you do something about it. Go make it right.”
“It sounds real noble when you talk about leading someone else to Elizabeth to take care of her, but for some reason, I just don’t know if I can do it. You’re a lot stronger and kinder than me.” She squirmed uncomfortably.
“Nah. You’re just the jealous type,” I teased. “Just give it a thought, okay? You know she doesn’t belong there. Won’t you feel guilty if something happens?”
“I didn’t belong there either.” I couldn’t tell if it was guilt or retribution I heard in her voice.
Elizabeth walked in then, smelling of rosewater and soap. She took off her flannel robe and hung it by the door.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Anna said and slipped out of the door.
“Great!” Anna said as she practiced plucking grass near the lake’s edge where we sat a few days later. I figured they would end up here, as they did most days after the work was finished. “This isn’t going to be nearly as hard as you made it sound. What am I going to do when he leaves in a few days?” She looked serious, but her voice teased.
“I didn’t think it would be this easy. And he’s not gone yet.”
“He will be. I talked to him late into the night. I think he’s convinced that the law is onto him and he’d better leave soon.”
“I hope Elizabeth gets over him quickly. I hope it’s not too hard on her.” I stared out at the ripples started by a bird taking flight off the lake’s surface and watched as they rolled slow and steady toward the muddy edge.
If Anna said anything else, I didn’t hear it. I was pulled into a vision and I tried to relax, taking in every detail I could.
I saw the marble statue of a man fall and shatter into a hundred pieces, and as each piece shattered, it erupted into flames. I saw crying and desperate people running in and out of the fire, and I saw him again. The man I was going to save. He walked straight into the fire without fear or hesitation. I saw the chaotic scene in deep swirls from far away. Suddenly, a dozen people were running in every direction, screaming and crying. I didn’t see him come out.
I heard the loud ticking of a hundred pocket watches. They hung from the house, the trees and lay all over the ground. Each one of them read six-fourteen. I batted my eyes and refocused on the world around me.
“What did you see?”
“I have to save him from a fire,” I said and stood up. “I need to find the house I saw. Can you keep working on Daniel and keep an eye on Elizabeth? I have to go to this house. I saw six-fourteen, I don’t know if that’s morning or night, but once I get there I can check back in everyday.”
By concentrating on the house in my vision, I opened my eyes to find it in front of me. I saw a barn to my right and recognized it. Elizabeth and I had spent the night there when we ran from the hospital. I pushed aside painful memories and walked toward the house.
Inside the kitchen, a largely pregnant woman stood ironing shirts with a determined crease in her brow and an older woman at the stove stirred a massive steaming pot.
“Would you be a dear and call Hubert in for lunch, Ahna?”
The younger woman stopped her ironing and arched to stretch her back. She walked with a slight waddle as she left the kitchen. Hubert walked through the kitchen door a moment later. I recognized his face as the one etched into the marble statue that shattered, exploding into flames. I looked around, nodding, knowing I was in the right place.
A knock at the door made me jump, and Ethel opened it to an older woman with short, curly grey hair. She stepped in and hugged Ethel, said polite hellos to Hubert and Ahna, then invited Ethel to a get together at her house to play bridge. Ethel smiled, nodding excitedly and walked to the calendar on the wall and circled the date to remind herself. When she stepped away, I glanced at the calendar and froze. In thick red pen circled three times was the date June 14.
“Six-fourteen,” I whispered to myself. “It’s a date. Not a time.”
When I returned Anna was waiting for me in the yard, looking displeased.
“What’s wrong?”
“Elizabeth invited him to the cabin again.” I made a small grunting noise of disgust, rolled my eyes, and put my hands on my hips. “The sheriff came by again while you were gone. He said there was another break-in close by and he wanted to talk to whatever worker Charles had hired.”
“What did Daniel do?”
“He hid. When no one could find him the sheriff said he would be back this evening.”
“Where are they now?”
“At the cabin.”
“Alright. Let’s go. I have an idea. I think this might be the last push. He’s sure to leave now.”
I sent Anna inside and waited by the lake’s edge. I had spent so much time sitting here, staring out, thinking and trying not to think, I had memorized it in detail.
“They’re just talking,” she called from the porch after a moment. I lumbered up, still hesitant to see them in our cabin together.
When I got to the porch I touched Anna’s arm and said, “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to talk to Daniel while I talk to Elizabeth. If anything starts to happen I’m going to have to leave, but I want you to keep working on Daniel.” She nodded and we stepped inside. Elizabeth stood at the small makeshift kitchen, her forehead creased with worry, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
“Why don’t you start a fire?” she asked, glancing at the cold stone hearth. I pushed away thoughts of Elizabeth in the firelight; all of the beautiful features of her face softened and glowing when she had smiled at me shyly over dinner.
“It’s blazing hot.”
“It’s romantic.”
“I thought we were here to talk,” he said impatiently.
“We are. But that’s not all we have to do,” she said suggestively with a wry smile.
“Elizabeth,” he exhaled hard and ran his hand through his hair. “I have to be going. I have to leave here.”
“L
et him go, Elizabeth.”
“You should leave before the sheriff returns. He knows it’s you and he’s coming to arrest you.”
“Why does the sheriff keep asking to talk to you?” she asked suddenly and suspiciously.
“I don’t know. This has happened before, Elizabeth. A few months ago, I had the law on my tail thinking I did something I didn’t do.”
“He did do it, Elizabeth. He’s a thief and he’s been stealing from your neighbors. He’s a liar and he’s been lying to you.”
“They’re coming for you. Tonight.” Anna looked at me with exasperation. “This is boring. I can only tell him so many times that they know it’s him, and they’re going to arrest him.”
I nodded toward Elizabeth knowing Daniel had set his mind to leaving, I decided to have us concentrate on convincing Elizabeth to let him go. Anna smiled and walked over and stood next to Elizabeth, mimicking her posture and facial expression.
“Then take me with you.”
“I don’t think I can, Elizabeth.”
“He never had any intention of taking you anywhere. Or marrying you. He used you, Elizabeth. He used you in every way. He’s a tramp. Let him go. Push him out. Make him leave. You deserve better,” Anna hissed, and the effectiveness of her words showed on Elizabeth’s face.
“Don’t you love me?” she squeaked. “Don’t you want to marry me?”
“Look now, Elizabeth. You’re a great girl. I’ve really enjoyed my time with you. But I really don’t have a lifestyle that fits with marriage and a family. I’m a wanderer. That’s no life for a woman.” He turned to see her staring at him, mouth open with shock and hurt, tears welling up in her eyes.
“I ought to kill you for hurting her, you bastard,” I seethed, glancing at the iron fire poker with longing.
“I need to leave tonight,” Daniel said with finality.
“You said you wouldn’t leave me.”
“I never said that.”
“Yes, you did, Stewart. You said you’d always be with me. Always be a part of me.” Her voice cracked, wavering with emotion.
He shook his head and sighed with an extremely uncomfortable look on his face.
“My name’s not Stewart and I can’t stay, Elizabeth. I can’t take you with me,” he said softly. She walked slowly to the back of the sofa and put her hands lightly on his shoulders. I took a step back as if repelled. Her face had changed; no longer hurt and heartbroken, but resolved and accepting.
“Alright,” she said in a whisper. He turned his head to look at her, slightly disbelieving of her sudden understanding. “I guess I knew all along that this wouldn’t work out. Not for the long term anyway. Deep down, I knew you’d leave someday.”
He faced forward again, and I was disappointed to see some remorse and poignancy on his face.
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he breathed. She nodded and looked away.
“I’m sorry, too.” She hesitated and then faltered a little as she spoke. She slid her hands from his shoulders up his neck into his hair. I looked over at Anna.
“I have to go.” I turned to the door and then looked back quickly. Elizabeth had a handful of his hair, gently pulling his head back, leaning down to meet his lips. “Try to ruin it for him or something,” was all I could think to say before I hurried out the door.
Anna soon bolted from the cabin and ran to me at the lake’s edge. She was shaking all over, the whole image of her vibrated, and her mouth hung open, unable to speak for a moment.
“What’s wrong?”
“Simon, I have to leave,” she breathed and looked back at the cabin with an unexplainable look. “I can’t. Please, Simon, think about crossing. You need to leave here. Elizabeth isn’t right. She’s really messed up. She–”
“Is she okay?”
She stared at me with a straight face. “Physically.”
“Look, I don’t want to know what they’re doing.”
She straightened, her face blank and void suddenly of any emotion. “No. You don’t.”
“You didn’t have to watch it all, you know, just pop in at the last moment and ruin it!”
“They weren’t doing anything. Not like what you’re thinking.”
I turned to ask what it was that had spooked her, but she was already gone.
I stared at the scarf that had washed up on the lake’s edge, now buried half under the thick mud, feeling very alone. I glanced at the cabin. It was quiet, thankfully. I heard the chirping of birds overhead and went back to the house to wait.
I was on Elizabeth’s bed on my side. The pillow smelled like her. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, hoping she would return soon, wanting to see her. I was a fool to think I could ever leave.
The sheriff, making good on his promise to return, interrupted that night’s supper. I hadn’t left the house since leaving the cabin, only followed Elizabeth around when she was inside, refusing to pass the threshold when she stepped outside.
Sheriff Vincent removed his hat as he stepped in, making apologies for interrupting their meal.
“I’d still like to talk to your hired man if you don’t mind, Charles.”
“Well, I don’t mind at all, if you can find him. I looked for him to give me a hand earlier this afternoon and I couldn’t find him.”
“He left.” Elizabeth stared at her food as she spoke. “He told me earlier today that he had to go.” Her voice was solid and cold.
“He’s gone for good?” Her father asked, offended. Elizabeth nodded with a tear slipping down her nose. The sheriff looked at her oddly and then glanced to Charles.
“They were engaged,” Cecile said flatly.
“I take it he broke the engagement, Beth?” Elizabeth nodded again. Charles reached across and put a work-weathered hand over hers. “I’m so sorry, dear.”
“Do you mind if I have a look around where he was staying?”
“Sure.” Charles led the way out of the kitchen. “I’ll show you.”
Cecile and Elizabeth sat in silence for several moments.
“This is your fault,” Elizabeth said, raising cold eyes to her mother. A look of shock and fear rippled through her before she mustered enough courage to speak.
“I don’t see how this is my fault,” Cecile said, weakly defensive, focusing on her dinner.
“You didn’t like him. You didn’t like the idea of us getting married. He was uncomfortable around you because he knew you loathed him and that’s why he left me. That’s two now,” she growled, glaring at her mother, who exhaled in relief when Charles and the sheriff re-entered the kitchen.
“Well, I think we found our thief,” he said, holding up several gold chains and an armload of semi-valuable trinkets.
Elizabeth pushed away from the table violently and ran out of the room, stomping upstairs. I lay beside her while she cried, clutching the clay heart in her hand.
The days quickly settled into monotony as Elizabeth fell into a new routine. She dressed in overalls with her hair pinned under a hat and worked with her father in the barn and in the fields. Her mother spoke little, and I got the distinct impression that she was genuinely afraid to speak out of turn to either Elizabeth or her father. She went about her domestic chores in silence, rarely speaking without having been spoken to.
Elizabeth always wrote in her journal before changing out of her work clothes. I watched her as she wrote, her face hard and determined as she wrote with a heavy hand. She gripped the pen so hard her knuckles turned white as she poured out her feelings and frustrations to the red leather bound book. I had been tempted to read it on many occasions, but thought that would be a terrible invasion of privacy.
I longed to read it, though, praying I would see my name written and know that she remembered me. Or possibly read through some of our memories, if she were writing them out. If she hadn’t, I wondered how well she could hear me, and if I recounted our memories and our time together, whispered them to her, she might possibly feel compelled to
write them out. For some reason it seemed if I were able to read them, written by someone else’s hand, it would make them real again. I could live them and feel them again. And neither of us would lose them. We had already lost so much.
The heat of June bore down, and Elizabeth had stepped only a few feet from the porch before sweat sprang up on her forehead. The air was muggy and oppressive; she and her father complained as they worked. Elizabeth hadn’t spoken of Daniel in the months that had passed, and I had seen no witness of her pining for him after the first night. She simply slipped back into who she was before he ever came. She did start to take a lot of medicine again, dipping into her father’s readily available supply several times a day.
“Opiates,” her mother would grumble resentfully under her breath. Most of the time it was just us and I would talk to her while she worked. Sometimes she would answer, hearing me as her own thoughts and it would always make me smile. I had enjoyed our time together, but that particular morning was bittersweet.
It was the fourteenth of June.
When I arrived at the house in the late afternoon, all looked well.
An auburn-haired man with a sturdy build paced the floor with a bounce, a tiny baby on his shoulder. He whispered soothing words and then attempted a terribly off-key lullaby that just seemed to make the baby more upset. I smiled at his loving fluster over his disconcerted child. I sat down and watched them, nothing more to do than wait until I was needed.
“Maybe she doesn’t like her name? Ever since we gave it to her she’s done nothing but cry.”
“Don’t be silly. Try holding her the other way.”
“I’ve held her every way there is to hold a baby. Nothing helps.” He began pacing again, patting her back with a bouncing shuffle. A little boy with black hair and big brilliant blue eyes sat on the couch with a worried look and both fingers in his ears.
