The Traveling Woman

by Jane Harvey-Berrick

  His mouth pressed together in a hard line.

  “You’re over-reacting. You got your period?”

  “You’re impossible!” I shouted, tears pricking my eyes. “The man who is supposed to care about me and look after me, made me feel cheap. You did that! YOU!”

  “You wouldn’t have been in that fucking meeting in the first place if I hadn’t stood up for you, because you sure as shit weren’t sticking up for yourself!” he shouted.

  I burst into angry tears.

  Kes tried to hold me, but I pushed him away.

  “Aimee . . .”

  “Fuck you!” I screamed at him.

  Zach rushed over, pulling me into his arms.

  “You’re such a douche, Kes,” he snapped.

  Kes stood there with his hands on his hips looking pissed and guilty, all at the same time.

  “It didn’t mean anything,” he muttered. “I was just playing with them.”

  I was angry and confused. It hadn’t helped that I wasn’t prepared for the meeting, that the executives were in their thousand dollar suits while Kes had insisted that I wear jeans. Just because Kes didn’t give a damn what anyone thought about him, didn’t mean I was the same. I wished I could be, I really did.

  And now I was angry at myself, too. Kes was just being Kes, I knew that. But I didn’t like being used either.

  He rubbed his thumb over his eyebrow, a sure sign that he was frustrated. Good—he should be.

  I dug a tissue out of my purse and wiped my eyes, staring at the smeared mascara.

  “Great,” I hiccupped.

  “Nah, you look gorgeous,” Zach said reassuringly.

  I gave him a weak smile as he helped me into the truck.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Kes slid in after me. I shrugged away from him when he tried to take my hand.

  “I don’t have to deal with this shit,” he growled.

  Yes, you do, I thought to myself, but I didn’t say anything. Anyway, I’d already said the things that needed saying.

  Zach shifted uneasily in his seat. “I don’t have to fly out today,” he offered.

  “It’s fine,” I said quietly. “There’s no reason why your plans should be disrupted.”

  He gave me a sympathetic look, and I knew that he’d stay with me if I asked him to. But this wasn’t his problem to solve.

  Kes stared out of the window, idly pulling at a loose thread in his jeans, making the rip wider.

  The drive to LAX took place in near silence except for the radio playing softly in the background. Luckily it wasn’t a long drive, and soon Zach was leaping out and tossing his backpack over his shoulder.

  He pulled me into a one-armed hug.

  “You know he didn’t mean to hurt you. He just has this carnie mentality sometimes; you know, that everyone else is out to screw him.”

  “I know, but I really want to beat him to within an inch of his life right now.”

  Zach smiled. “Just tell him you won’t sleep with him—it’ll be a worse punishment.”

  My cheeks turned pink but I laughed anyway. “Have fun with Luke. See you in a couple of weeks.”

  Zach kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear. “Let him make it up to you, Aimee.”

  “I will.”

  He smiled then walked over to Kes who was standing a few feet away on the other side of the truck, and thumped him on the back.

  I couldn’t hear what he said to him, but probably more Zach-style wisdom for keeping the peace. I was going to miss him.

  Kes jumped into the driver’s seat as I waved goodbye to Zach. This time it was me who stared out of the window while he drove in silence.

  It was only when Kes turned off Sunset Strip and took the road leading up into the Hollywood hills that I realized we weren’t going straight back to Pomona.

  “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I said snippily. “Or is it another surprise?”

  Kes shot me a guarded look.

  “Something I’ve been wanting to do,” he muttered.

  “Oh well, that’s alright then. As long as it’s something you want to do!”

  I was too angry to ask him again where we were going.

  Finally, he pulled into a small, dusty parking area at the end of a narrow road. Kes jumped out of the truck, then walked around, opened my door and waited expectantly.

  “Aimee,” he said, his voice sighing my name as I sat with my arms folded, “this is a good surprise.”

  He held out his hand, and after a short hesitation, I took it. He immediately pulled me into a tight hug, tucking my head under his chin.

  He was apologizing, I knew, but it would have been nice to hear the words, just once.

  “You hurt me,” I said quietly.

  He kissed the top of my head, I’m sorry.

  “You embarrassed me in front of those people.”

  Another kiss, I didn’t mean it.

  “We’re supposed to be a team: if you’ve got a plan, you should tell me about it.”

  And I felt his lips against my forehead. I know. I will, I promise.

  “Excuse my interruption, folks, but are you Mr. Hawkins?”

  Kes stood up straight but kept his arms looped around me.

  “Yeah, that’s me.”

  The man held out his hand and Kes shook it.

  “Name’s Red. Guess you’re the fella I spoke to on the phone.”

  The man in front of us looked like an old-time cowboy, with bushy eyebrows and a matching mustache, wearing a wide-brimmed hat that looked as if he’d been born with it. His eyes were deeply lined from years of staring into the desert sun, the bright blue faded with age. His fingers were like the stubby branches of an old tree, his skin tanned to the color of saddle leather.

  “I’ve got your horses over here. Y’all know how to ride?”

  This time I could tell that the man was staring at me in my high heels and white shirt.

  “Yeah, we’re good.”

  “Kes?”

  He turned and gave me a wary smile. “I thought since we’re in Hollywood, we should go see the Hollywood sign. We were going to ride there, but if you’d rather hike . . . ?”

  His words tailed off as I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “I’m not dressed for either,” I pointed out.

  This time I got a full wattage grin. “I packed you a bag—got your hiking boots and a ball cap to protect you from the sun.”

  I looked into the back of Zach’s truck and pulled out my boots.

  Kes was studying me intently. “You don’t have to, Aimee,” he said, his voice wavering. “I just thought it would be, ya know, fun. Just the two of us.”

  Who hasn’t dreamed of seeing the famous Hollywood sign? Of being part of that world of glamor? It was so sweet that he’d arranged this for me, even down to packing my boots and a hat.

  Damn, that man made my head spin.

  “I’d love to,” I said sincerely, kicking off my heels.

  Kes looked relieved, and the man with the busy eyebrows grinned at Kes, showing startlingly white teeth.

  “Follow the marked trail, although you might want to take a short side-trip to the Bronson Caves—that’s where Adam West filmed some of the Batman scenes, and they’re in the John Wayne movie The Searchers. That one’s a classic, if y’all haven’t seen it. Just watch out for rattlers in the caves—they like to take a nap there sometimes. The horses’ll tell you if you should be worried.”

  He didn’t even notice my shudder as he rambled on.

  “You’ll be able to see the sign from there. Then after that, it’s another easy four miles or so until you hit the dirt path that’s a continuation of Canyon Drive. There’s a bit of shade in these early parts of the trail, but it’s few and far between—so be prepared to sweat. Y’all got plenty of water?”

  Kes nodded.

  “Good. The horses’ll be fine, just don’t push them too fast. Now, I normally ride with folks but you’ve assured me you know what you’re do
ing.”

  Kes folded his arms across his chest and nodded.

  “Hmm, then it’s another mile to the summit of Mount Lee. The road wraps around the north side of the peak, so you’ll get a few views down to the valley before the road turns back to the south face. You’ll see that big ole Hollywood sign from behind.”

  Then he introduced us to the horses. Mine was the smaller of the two, a sad-faced roan with an untidy mane and scraggy tail.

  “This is Peggy, she’s slow and steady—just right for you, miss.”

  “Are you sure this horse will make it?” I whispered to Kes.

  “Aw, you’re hurting her feelings. You’ll make it, won’t you, Peggy?”

  The horse turned her head to look me in the eye, and I immediately felt sorry for what I’d said. Kes helped me into the saddle before turning to his own horse, a rangy looking paint.

  “And this is Oscar. He spooks at shadows, so don’t let him get skittish on you. Probably too hot for him to act up, but you never know.”

  Kes stroked the horse’s nose and scratched his ears.

  “We’ll be fine.”

  He looked so happy as he swung easily into the saddle. I smiled, too, remembering him as a boy when he’d raced around the arena with his pony Jacob Jones.

  The path was hot and dusty, but even in the simmering heat, we passed several people making the climb on foot. The horses plodded slowly, placing each hoof with a weary tread that made me feel guilty for riding.

  We stopped at the Batman Caves, seeing the famous Hollywood sign peeping through, framed by arches that I guessed had been made by quarrying.

  The tension between us had eased, and I had to admit that I was enjoying his surprise. It was so typical of him: swerving from thoughtlessness to sensitivity and sweetness. Life would never be dull with my Kes.

  When we ran out of trail, we were already behind the Hollywood sign, peering through a chain link fence at the scaffolding holding up the letters. It reminded me of being in the carnival, on the wrong side of the magic, seeing the magician pulling the puppet’s strings. The towering letters looked shabby, almost humiliated from this angle, not the glittering promise that you saw from the valley.

  Kes tied the horses loosely under a tree and grinned at me.

  “Wanna touch the sign?”

  “There’s a fence in the way,” I pointed out.

  Kes shrugged, and a horrible sense of déjà vu rippled through me—Kes was about to dare me to do something I didn’t want to do. I just knew it.

  “I’m not climbing the fence,” I said, laying my cards out so we both knew where I stood. “It has razor wire on the top! The fence is there for a reason.”

  Kes smiled. “You don’t always play by the rules. Since when did good girls run away to join the carnival?”

  “That’s not the point! And I didn’t run away.”

  Kes raised an eyebrow.

  “The sign says it’s a fire risk,” I pointed out, as Kes tossed his jacket to cover the spikes at the top, and started to climb the fence. “You could slip, you could fall! And there could be rattlesnakes! Or . . . or a mountain lion!” He was still climbing, almost to the top now. “And they have 24 hour surveillance, helicopters and motion detectors! You’ll be caught and thrown in prison! I’ll never see you again and die a lonely, childless spinster, and it will be all your fault!”

  He ignored me.

  “And it’s a misdemeanor!” I called after him.

  Kes landed safely on the other side. “Are you coming?”

  Oh, crap.

  I took a deep breath and started to climb.

  “This is a bad, bad idea,” I grumbled. “I’ll die. I’ll break my leg and die. I’ll die in prison of a broken leg that goes gangrenous. Then I’ll come back and haunt you. Except you’ll already be dead because you’ll have been shot by one of the guards or eaten by a mountain lion, or shot then eaten and it’ll serve you right.”

  I closed my eyes and muttered a short prayer as Kes just grinned at me. The man risks his life everyday at work—live a little, Aimee! I told myself.

  I swung a leg over the top, resting uncomfortably on Kes’s jacket, feeling the sharp spikes underneath.

  “Jump, I’ll catch you,” Kes said calmly.

  “Crap, oh crap, oh crap!”

  I jumped, squealing slightly as I plummeted to the earth, ready to be spread like strawberry jelly all over the hillside. The mountain lions would need a straw to eat what was left of me and . . .

  Kes caught me in his arms.

  “I knew you’d do it,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose.

  “I could have died,” I grumbled.

  “I’ll never let you fall.”

  It felt as though he was talking about more than climbing a fence, more than here and now.

  “Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand and towing me down the steep slope.

  Feeling guilty and excited, all at the same time, I stumbled after Kes. And then I was there, staring up at the letters 45 feet high, towering above me. I reached out and brushed my fingers, touching a little bit of history, a little bit of Hollywood magic.

  “Look, Aimee,” Kes said quietly. “Look at the view.”

  Spread out below was the whole of Los Angeles, the hills beyond softened by the haze.

  “It’s like being at the top of a Ferris wheel,” I breathed out. “I can see so far.” I turned to Kes. “Do you remember that first time, when we were ten?”

  He pushed a lock of hair behind my ear and stroked my cheek with his fingers.

  “Of course I remember. It was one of the best days of my life.”

  “Really?”

  Kes smiled, his eyes glowing.

  “Yeah. I was smart in those days. I had a pretty girl next to me . . . she was my best friend and I asked if I could kiss her.”

  My heart began to gallop.

  “I thought you’d say no,” he said quietly, his lips brushing against my ear.

  “Not a chance,” I breathed. “I was smart, too.”

  He leaned back and smiled, letting his fingers trail down my neck. Then he pressed his lips gently against my cheek, just like that first kiss.

  I laughed gently. “Best kiss ever.”

  Kes cocked an eyebrow. “The best?”

  I held him tightly, gazing up into those curious eyes, silver-gray, edged in blue.

  “When we were sitting on that Ferris wheel, it felt like I was seeing the whole world. If we knew then how far we’d have to travel, how many years we’d have to wait, I wonder if . . .”

  A sharp yell interrupted me.

  “Hey! What are you doing there?”

  I gulped, but Kes just grabbed my hand and ran. We skidded through the dirt, scratching our arms on the thorny bushes. Kes dragged me behind him as he sprinted along the steep side of the hill, rocks and tree roots making me stumble. On and on, until the sign was hidden by a curve in the rockface.

  I was gasping from shock and fear, and from having run and stumbled for half a mile. When Kes decided we’d run far enough, he whipped off his shirt and t-shirt, and held them in his teeth while he climbed the fence again, as easily as anyone else would climb the stairs. At the top, he draped them over the razor wire.

  “Your turn, Aimee.”

  “Oh shit,” I gasped, still breathless.

  “Come on, you can do it, baby.”

  I started climbing, my arms shaking with the strain, my thighs burning. But then I was at the top and Kes helped me over, before jumping to the ground.

  He held out his arms. “Jump, Aimee!”

  I half-jumped, half-fell, almost knocking Kes over as we sprawled in the dust.

  He was about to climb up and retrieve his shirt, when we heard the police approaching again and there was a helicopter hovering somewhere overhead.

  Kes hauled me up, and we jogged into the bushes. I should have been worried about being arrested, but I was mesmerized by the play of sun on Kes’s golden tan skin.

&nb
sp; We ran until I couldn’t go any further. Hot and sweaty, I ground to a halt.

  “Kes, I can’t!”

  He turned to look at me. “Okay, you wait here. I’ll go get the horses.” Then he winked at me. “You lead me astray, Aimee Andersen—I’ll always follow you.”

  My mouth was still hanging open as he ran lightly back up the trail, his feet almost soundless in the thick dust.

  When I finally managed to close my mouth, my lips were turned upward in a huge smile.

  Kes arrived back with the horses ten minutes later, but he’d had to abandon his jacket and shirt. I was so grateful to see Peggy, beat-up and world-weary as she was, that I gave her a big hug. She looked surprised, then snickered softly into my t-shirt.

  “Here,” Kes said, “I’ve got something for each of them,” and he passed me a large, red, juicy apple.

  Peggy munched it happily while Oscar seemed to enjoy rolling his in the dirt. Kes handed me a bottle of water and I drank it down thirstily.

  The sun was low in the sky now, painting the clouds with brilliant reds and oranges as the hills turned from dusty brown, to gray, the shadows lengthening slowly.

  It had been a rollercoaster day, and I’d felt so many emotions. I loved Kes, I hated him, I loved him. That was how our life together would be: the slow climb to happiness, and a breathless rush into anger and despair; highs and lows in a never-ending ride. But the important thing was that we’d ride together, a life-long journey.

  Kes wasn’t safe. He wasn’t a sensible choice. He made my heart race, and swoop, and die a little. When I was near him, I burned. When he was far away, my blood moved sluggishly, reluctantly, cooling without his heat. Maybe we’d burn together. But maybe, just maybe, we’d fly.

  I could feel the exact moment that Kes woke up.

  We were back in Arcata, staying in the tiny cabin. There was hardly any furniture and no curtains, but sunlight streamed in the window, and I could hear the soothing sound of the ocean just a couple of hundred yards away.

  I turned my head to look at Kes, his face relaxed and peaceful.

  He was always a light sleeper, unless he’d pulled an overnighter on a jump day, which was when the carnival did the takedown on a Sunday evening, traveled through the night to the next location, then worked all day to be up and running for the public. No sleep for anyone for 36 hours or longer.