Remember This

by Patricia Koerner

  “Ah, there you are,” Tony said. “I see Matty’s introduced you to the squawkers.” He offered Guillermo his hand. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Guillermo Rivas.”

  “Rivas, yes. Join me for a beer, won’t you? A soccer match is about to start if you’re interested.”

  “Thank you. I’d love to.” Guillermo took the beer Tony offered and followed him into the den. “So, who’s playing …?”

  I watched them, letting what I just saw sink in. Some of the old Tony was back – brash, show-offish. But some of the softer, more caring side of him that came out after his mother’s death was still there, too. I was amazed at how friendly Tony was to Guillermo. I was still wondering at this when I realized Deirdre was speaking to me.

  “I’m Deirdre Townsend. I’m glad that we’re finally getting to meet. Matty’s talked about you so much.” She was a petite woman with red hair cut in a pixie style. She seemed quiet and reserved, but I sensed an inner strength and I almost chuckled imagining her putting Tony in his place whenever he got out of line.

  While Matty and the men watched the match, Deirdre and I got acquainted. She was a real estate agent and told me how she met Tony while brokering Tony’s purchase of his house. They hit it off instantly and were married within a year. I was pleased to learn that she encouraged Matty to excel in school.

  The next day, Matty, Guillermo and I went to visit the Space Needle. Afterwards, the three of us returned to our hotel and went swimming and played an impromptu game of water polo with a ball we found. The next day, we left for Salt Lake City. The previous year, Matty made friends with a couple of kids his age in our neighborhood and I was glad to see him reconnect with them. I worried a little about him getting bored and lonely since this year I had a class to teach summer term and wouldn’t have as much time for him.

  I received a letter from Laurie that summer saying that she and James were seeing a counselor and were working on their relationship. She was optimistic that they would eventually get through this rough patch. They decided to leave open for the time being the question about whether to try to adopt children. Enclosed with her letter was another, from John.

  “Last week I met Michael Treese, a flamenco guitarist. He performed at a theatre in Burbank and it turns out that my cast mate Kari Shaffer knows Treese and she introduced us. I told him a little about you and your work in world music. If you are still planning to come to Los Angeles, I can arrange a meeting.”

  I thought of how excited my students would be to hear a flamenco artist and perhaps hear a talk or participate in a workshop. I replied to John right away that I was going to be in Los Angeles in two weeks and that I’d love to meet Treese. I enclosed that with a letter to Laurie sending her all the love and encouragement I could and best wishes to her and James.

  I took Matty to California with me so he could visit with Dad. Guillermo, as I expected, was not interested in going with us. While I visited with Laurie, Dad took Matty to the set with him where he was rehearsing his latest film role. As a souvenir, Dad gave Matty an old prop gun which no longer worked. I was a little unhappy that Dad chose that as a gift for Matty. I didn’t think a weapon, even a non-functional one, to be an appropriate gift for a child, but I trusted Matty to be responsible with it.

  Dad and Mabel, who now lived together, wanted to go sailing to Catalina Island, so we all went. Matty was excited at his first sailing trip and wanted to take plenty of photos to show Tony and Deirdre when he returned home.

  The day after our Catalina trip, I saw Matty off back to Seattle. I told Dad I had a meeting with a musician to discuss the possibility of his giving a concert in Salt Lake, immediately after which I was returning home. I did not mention that John was also going to be at this meeting nor that John and I were staying together that night.

  I met John and Michael Treese at a restaurant and over our meal, Treese told us a little of his background. His family had lived in Spain for several years when he was young and his mother had been a dancer. I asked him if he would be willing to perform in Salt Lake City and perhaps give a talk or a workshop for my students. I was happy to hear that he was interested. However, his schedule was full just then and he wouldn’t be able to do it until at least January.

  John and I thought it best not to let on to Treese that we were anything more than friends, but in his arms that night, it was as if I was home again after a long time away. I knew that come morning I would have to leave the shelter of his love, but I would stay and rest there until then. We both woke before dawn and finally got around to sharing what was going on in our lives. I asked him about little Robby.

  “He’s great. He loves to pound on things. I think he has the makings of a good drummer.” I could hear the love and pride in his voice.

  “He’s becoming more like you every day. Kylie, she takes after her mother, but Robby, to judge from the pictures you’ve sent me, is going to be another you.”

  “I thought Rachel would be happy. She’s the one who wanted kids. But lately, she’s become more and more dissatisfied. She complains constantly that we don’t go out enough, that we need a newer, bigger house, a new car. She insisted Kylie go to some chichi pre-school, which I hated. I went there once and saw how pretentious it was. I wanted to pull Kylie out right then, but Rachel refused. I let it go since it was Kylie’s last term there, but I made sure to have some input on her present school. Rachel wants the child to have dance lessons, music lessons, riding lessons.” John threw up his hands in frustration. “It isn’t the money. I’m happy to provide anything I can afford and that Kylie enjoys, but nothing is ever enough for Rachel. I swear Hannah, I’m coming to the end of my rope.”

  I chuckled. “You have the opposite problem of what I have. Guillermo never wants to do anything together anymore. With his colleagues, yes; me, no. He goes out with them and drinks, then comes home and falls into bed. Once, he went with a group of them to Wendover, a town about 120 miles west of Salt Lake City, just over the border in Nevada. He was gone the entire weekend and lost half a month’s salary in the casinos there. When I confronted him about it, he got angry, like I was being unreasonable. I think he has just lost interest in me, in our marriage.” I let out a sigh of resignation. “He still has his good moments and, to his credit, he treats Matty well, but in the long run, that will not be enough.”

  41

  When I pitched my plan to have Michael Treese give a performance and workshop to our department chair, she was all for it and even helped me secure the funding. John helped me again by putting me in touch with Treese’s agent and the agent and I took it from there.

  The program was held on January 13th and was a great success. My students and the members of Terpsichore all loved it and it even got a rave review in the college newspaper. The department chair was pleased and told me that when I came up for tenure it would count in my favor.

  I felt a measure of guilt at having been with John, though I continued to correspond with him. I turned my attention to trying to salvage my marriage. However, my efforts were futile. Guillermo continued to spend all his time either in front of the TV or out with his friends or colleagues. He went again to Wendover and this time, lost his entire month’s pay. I was furious. His response was, “Get off my back! So I lost a little money. Big deal! You have millions. You can cover the bills this once.”

  “Millions, Guillermo? Millions? I don’t have even a million. Even if I did, it still wouldn’t justify what you did.”

  He backed off and things calmed down after that and we lived fairly peaceably together, but no longer as husband and wife. Guillermo moved into the guest room, sleeping with me in our room only during Matty’s visits or when we had other guests.

  As always, work was my consolation; teaching and working with Terpsichore. We recorded an album and had a concert planned for August. I and the other musicians composed all the pieces and worked with the dancers to perfect them. I played keyboards for the most part, but on one number
, I played the doumbek. I enjoyed it so much that I had a doumbek custom made for myself as an incentive to practice and become more proficient. When Matty came for his next summer visit, he came with me to our rehearsals even learned from our sound expert how to operate the sound board.

  In late June, I got a letter from John. He and Rachel were separated. He had at last come to the end of his rope and moved out of their house. He was between projects and wanted me to go to Los Angeles, but with my summer term class to teach and the work with Terpsichore, I didn’t have time. “Why don’t you come here and see our concert?” I suggested in my return letter. “The performance is in Park City, a half hour’s drive from Salt Lake. I’ll stay there for the weekend. You can stay with me.”

  I was excited when he said he’d love to come and see us play. One evening at rehearsal, as I watched the dancers go through a routine, I wished I could dance as beautifully. Just for fun, I tried a few steps. “Not half bad,” commented one dancer, Charlene. “Seriously, you have natural grace. I could teach you a simple routine, if you like.”

  I gratefully took Charlene up on her offer and as I learned the steps, I gradually conceived the idea of performing a dance myself. We pre-recorded the piece I was going to dance to. What a surprise it would be for John, I thought.

  On Friday, the morning before the concert, Guillermo was already gone when I woke up. I picked John up at the airport. When I saw him, I couldn’t believe how he looked. He’d let his hair grow out in its natural curls, like he wore it when we were first together. But what really floored me was the beard he’d grown. It was bright red! I stroked it to see if it was real. “How can your beard be so red?” I asked, incredulous.

  “Have you forgotten, my love, that my Dad has red hair?” He smiled and his glorious jewel eyes shone with amusement.

  “I love it. It makes you look so … wild. I almost didn’t know you.”

  He took out a pair of sunglasses from his pocket and put them on. “That was the idea. If you didn’t know me, hopefully no one else will, either.”

  I rented a jeep and we drove up Parley’s Canyon to Park City so we could check in at the hotel before anyone else arrived. I then went to the theatre to help with the final preparations and to get a little last minute practice in.

  I peeked out from backstage just before the performance began. The sight of John in the audience made my heart beat faster. I had worked for weeks to perfect my dance and couldn’t wait to perform it for him.

  Everything went smoothly until one of the dancers had a slight wardrobe malfunction. Her bra came unfastened in the middle of the dance performance. Nonplussed, she popped backstage, refastened it and resumed her place onstage, barely missing a step. I was impressed with her pluck.

  My dance number was the final piece of the program. A slow, sensual bolero, it was an ideal piece for a beginner like me. After the performance ended, when we were packing up, Charlene drew me aside and said, “You were amazing. I noticed one man was so mesmerized by you …” She walked over to the curtain and looked out. “He was just here. He was sitting right there in the front row on the left. He had curly hair and a beard.” I knew then she meant John. Though I didn’t show it of course, I was thrilled that his reaction was such that others noticed. I looked out and John was nowhere in sight. He had hurried back to the hotel to wait for me as per our arrangement.

  “He must not have been too mesmerized, Charlene,” I said. He’s gone.” I laughed and gave her a squeeze.

  Usually after a performance, we all would go out to eat as we, especially the dancers, would be famished. This time though, I begged off and promised I would join them after our next performance the following week. John was waiting for me back at the hotel, with a snack and a cold drink ready for me.

  “Watching you dance tonight … it reminded me of why I love you so much,” he said. “You’re so passionate, so full of life.”

  “I came alive when I met you,” I told him. “And I do so again every time I’m with you.” I walked out onto the balcony for a breath of air. A half-moon floated high in the sky. A number of stars seemed to be dancing around it. I turned to John. “Let’s go star gazing,” I said.

  “What? Where?”

  I jumped up and pulled the blanket off the bed and grabbed my purse. “I saw a dirt road that turns off the main road not too far from here. I bet if we follow it, we’ll come to a good spot. We can sit on this blanket.”

  Intrigued, he followed me out to the jeep and we took off. It was so dark, I almost missed where the dirt road turned off. I followed the road for about fifteen minutes, the jeep bouncing and swaying along the rocky uneven road, the breeze ruffling our hair. Finally, we came to a spot near a lone tree where the ground was fairly flat. I pulled over to the side and, with no light but the headlights, found a spot to spread the blanket. When I turned the headlights off, the moon and stars stood out in stark contrast to the sky.

  “So, how many constellations do you think you can spot?” John asked, pulling me close to him as we lay down.

  I searched the sky. In a moment, I spotted Lyra, the lyre, almost directly overhead. “There’s Lyra,” I said, pointing. “When I was young, I read something about the ‘music of the spheres’ and thought perhaps that music was played on this lyre in the sky.”

  John laughed as he turned his attention back to the sky. “Ah, there, just to the left of the lyre is Cygnus, the swan. See how its wings are spread in flight.” I nestled closer to him to caress his hair and kiss him. He responded in kind and in moments we were making love with joyous abandon. Neither of us gave a thought to the possibility that we’d be seen, we felt so wild and free. Afterward, as we lay together, naked before God and the world, I listened for any sign of anyone about, but all I could hear was crickets and the distant hoot of an owl. I noticed the half-moon had sunk almost to the horizon. It would be getting light soon.

  After a long sleep back at the hotel, I took John on a tour of the historic part of Park City, making sure to include Historic Main Street and some of the venues where the Sundance Festival’s films were shown. The next day, Sunday, I took John to the airport and saw him off. We didn’t know where we were going from there. Neither of us had directly addressed the question. I suppose we both wanted time to think about our options and the repercussions if we were to leave our marriages to be together. Though I would have given up almost anything for John, I felt sad at the state of Guillermo’s and my relationship. When we married, I really had hoped it would succeed. I wondered if he would be hurt if I asked for a divorce – or just relieved. We seldom communicated anymore, so I couldn’t be sure. I decided to postpone any action for a while.

  42

  I was planning a trip to Belize in October to research a paper I was writing on Punta, the traditional music of the Garifuna people of Central America’s Caribbean coast. I was writing it for ‘Current Musicology’, a journal published by Columbia University’s music department. To my surprise, Guillermo suggested we go together as he had business in Belize City. If things were going to end between us, I thought, maybe this trip could be a sort of last hurrah.

  Guillermo had to transport a minivan from a Salt Lake City dealership to one in Houston, so we drove it to Houston and flew from there to Belize City. The route we took passed through a couple places John and I were on our trip west nearly twenty years before. Remembering that time only exacerbated the conflict in my heart. I soon put that to rest for the time being, determined to enjoy this trip and some time with Guillermo. I turned my attention to the beautiful autumn foliage outside my window.

  Since Belize was once a British colony, most of the people could speak some English, so it was easier to interview the musicians here. I went with a representative from UNESCO in Belize City who acted as a go-between. The people were delightful – cheerful, and eager to share their music with me. I recorded several groups of both traditional Punta and Punta rock, a fusion of Punta, reggae and rock, with a dash of calypso and soca. Whil
e Guillermo conducted company business in Belize City, I went with the UNESCO representative to Punta Gorda in southern Belize, where I attended and videotaped a Punta dance, a celebration that could last hours or all night.

  Before returning home, Guillermo and I visited Altun Ha, an ancient Mayan city about thirty miles from Belize City. It was not an easy place to get to. The roads were atrocious by our standards – full of potholes and sections where the paving disappears. We made it in one piece thankfully, and toured the ruins, some parts of which date back to the time of Christ. I wondered at how a pre-industrial society without any machinery could have built all that. I took plenty of photographs of the Masonry Altars Temple, the main structure, and of the jade figurines and other artifacts on display.

  I had a mountain of work waiting for me on my return. Thankfully, I had only one class that term to teach. I’d left a list of videos for the students to view and discuss in class and a list of recordings at the library for them to listen to on their own time and I wanted to see how these discussions went. I met with the graduate student who had taken over my class in my absence and got a debriefing. After our meeting, I gave him the souvenir I bought as a thank-you gift, a stone replica of one of the stelae at Altun Ha.

  I arrived home one evening after spending the entire afternoon going through a backlog of correspondence. The apartment was dark – I don’t remember where Guillermo was. I picked up a pile of mail on my way in and began sorting through it. My heart stopped when I saw the envelope with Laurie’s handwriting. I could tell from its thickness that a letter from John was enclosed.

  I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t “I have to tell you what has been happening. Rachel and I are living together again. After I returned from Utah, she confronted me. She found the airplane ticket stub in my jacket pocket, which I’d totally forgotten about, probably when I was visiting the kids and she took my jacket. Anyway, I had to …”