by Astor, Marie
As she began her jog, Maggie could not help noticing how gloomy the street looked. It was still dark outside; despite it being only the end of January, the temperature was unseasonably warm, without a patch of snow in sight – typical weather for New York. While the lush greenery of the suburbs looked beautiful in the summer as well as in the fall when the colors began to change into a rainbow of yellow, orange and red, the neighborhood looked depressing now with bare tree branches staring into the gray sky, and brown, shriveled up grass from last year covering the lawns of the nearby houses. The meager sight made Maggie long for the majestic snow of Eagleville along with its soaring mountains and its wide-open sky. Somehow, the sky seemed bigger there: perhaps it was because of the mountains that towered endlessly into the limitless blue. She had never felt such affection for any other place before, and she knew the reason why: while Eagleville was indeed a picturesque town, the main reason why she grew to love it so was because of Taylor - the place would forever be dear to her because that was where they met and where she was going to start her life with him.
Maggie glanced at her watch, wishing that she had the means to speed up time. She had only been jogging for ten minutes, but already it felt like an eternity. She was neither tired nor out of breath, and yet, she found it difficult to continue her run. Her agitation did not subside in the least, but while her mind churned with worry, her body felt listless and numb and she had to force her limbs into submission, bracing herself for each lap.
Finally, after another thirty minutes of struggle, she decided to turn back home, hoping that she would be able to get through to Taylor.
It was six a.m. when Maggie got back to the house. By the faint light seeping through the door of her father’s study, she knew that he was already up. Dr. Robin had always been an early riser. Even though the door was closed, Maggie could clearly picture her father perusing his research papers in preparation for his mission trip. She thought of knocking on her father’s door, but then decided against it, since she did not want to distract him from his work. She was about to go back to her room, when the door to Dr. Robin’s study opened.
“Maggie, what are you doing up so early?” Dr. Robin eyed his daughter with a concerned look as he took off his reading glasses.
“Oh, I just went for a jog.”
“At six a.m.?” he looked at her dubiously. “Do you have something big planned for the rest of the day?”
“No.” Maggie shook her head. “I just couldn’t sleep.”
“Do you want to talk about it? Let’s go into the kitchen for some coffee.” Before Maggie could answer, her father started walking downstairs, and she followed him.
“So what’s keeping you up at night?” Dr. Robin asked, looking at his daughter keenly once they were seated with coffee mugs at the kitchen counter.
“Oh, I don’t know if I should even mention it. You’ll probably think it’s foolish...”
“If it’s keeping you up at night, I won’t think it’s foolish.” Her father’s voice sounded reassuringly comforting. “Does it have to do with Taylor?”
Maggie nodded.
“Did you have an argument about something?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.” Maggie shook her head, thinking of how she and Taylor agreed on almost everything. “It’s just that I am really worried about him.” Maggie paused, hesitant to continue. “All night, I’ve been having these really weird dreams, nightmares really and they are all about him…”
“So now you are worried that something might have happened to him?” her father finished the sentence for her.
“Yes. Do you think I’m crazy? I tried calling him all day yesterday, but I could not get through to him. We spoke the day before, and he promised to call the next day, but he never did. He always keeps his promises, and I can’t help thinking that something has gone wrong. I tried calling his grandparents and his friends, but I can’t get a hold of anyone.”
“No, I don’t think you are crazy at all…” Dr. Robin answered at length. “It could indeed be possible,” he murmured to himself.
“What could be possible?” asked Maggie, fearing the worst.
“Well,” her father continued reluctantly, taking a sip of coffee, “there have been documented incidents of people having telepathic connection, especially between those who are close to each other.”
“I’ve heard about that too, but do you really believe those stories they show on the Discovery channel?”
“No,” her father answered quickly, and then continued slowly, “but I have once witnessed it myself, and I believe what I saw.”
“Tell me about it,” Maggie asked, her stomach tightening into a knot.
“Do you remember when I went to Indonesia to help with the earthquake relief?”
Maggie nodded.
“It happened then,” Dr. Robin paused. “It was a devastating sight to behold: seeing it on the news is one thing, but when you are there, seeing the wreckage with your own eyes, it truly tests your mettle. The number of injured was staggering; hundreds were dead and many more were missing. The rescue force had been working round the clock to find as many as they could… There was this woman: she kept crying for her husband, insisting that he was alive. The search team explained to her that they had looked everywhere in her home town, but could not find her husband or any other survivors. They told her that her husband was dead, his body lost somewhere beneath the rubble, and that no one else besides her had survived from her town: the woman had gone to visit her sister in the nearby city that sustained less damage, which was how she herself had managed to stay alive. And yet, she kept pleading for the search to be extended, insisting that she knew exactly where her husband was. They kept ignoring her, but her cries only grew louder, and finally, we managed to convince the team captain to take one more look. If it had been up to the local authorities, they would have probably sent the poor woman to an insane asylum…”
“Did they find him?” Maggie asked, impatient to hear the end of the heart-wrenching story.
Her father nodded. “Her husband was trapped beneath the rubble of what used to be the town’s market - exactly where his wife said he would be. He was the only one who had made it out alive in the entire town.”
“Incredible,” Maggie murmured. “How did she know where he was?”
“She claimed that she could hear her husband calling for help, telling her where he was. Now, of course skeptics would argue that this was merely a coincidence, but having witnessed it with my own eyes, I have to say differently.”
“So what should I do then? Should I fly over there?” asked Maggie, her stomach tied in knots. Up until now, she had never believed in psychics or telepathy and had even joked about the ‘telepathic’ connection she and Taylor seemed to share. And yet, she had to admit that, on many occasions, she had felt a powerful connection with Taylor that was akin to an inner link that allowed them to understand each other’s thoughts without a need for words.
“That’s something that you will have to decide on your own,” Dr. Robin said at length. “I wouldn’t jump to any conclusions just yet, though. It’s only been a day, so it could be just a simple delay. Hopefully, you’ll hear from Taylor today, and we’ll all be able to laugh about this later. But then again, you have to listen to your gut feeling, and if it’s telling you that something is wrong, then I would heed it.”
In late afternoon, Maggie tried calling Taylor again. She was certain that he would be back from filming by then and could scarcely wait for the call to connect: the connection was always slower for long distance calls and she waited impatiently for the dial tone in the receiver. One ring, two, three – her heart raced and her fingers grew ice-cold with agitation. “Pick up, please pick up,” she murmured, but all she heard was Taylor’s greeting on the answering machine. Where could he be? she wondered. The apprehension that had been haunting her all day became even more intense.
She hung up the phone and dialed Millie’s and Phil’s number: i
f anything had gone wrong, Taylor’s grandparents would be bound to know. Yet again, the endless rings in the receiver only yielded an answering machine. Her anxiety mounting, Maggie tried Hannah and Shawn, but got the same response. Perhaps they are all out, she thought, trying to calm herself, but somehow the explanation did not seem plausible.
The sound of her ringing cell phone made Maggie jump.
“Hello?” Maggie feverishly groped for the phone.
“Maggie, it’s Jeffrey.”
Maggie’s heart stopped cold. She was terrified of what she was to hear next. “What is it, Jeffrey?”
“Maggie, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this… Taylor was killed in an avalanche.”
“Killed?”
“An avalanche tide swept him into a crevasse,” Jeffrey’s empathetic voice boomed in the receiver. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“When did it happen?” Maggie asked, feeling as though she were trapped in some terrible nightmare.
“Yesterday morning.”
“Yesterday morning,” stammered Maggie. “When is the funeral?” she mouthed weakly. Funeral, Taylor’s funeral – the words paralyzed her lips with icy cold.
“Maggie, Taylor’s family does not want you here, and they’ve said as much. They all feel that it was your fault that Taylor got into an accident. Of course, it could not be further from the truth, but that’s what they chose to believe.” Jeffrey halted. “As someone who cares about you, I don’t want you to be hurt any more than you already are. There’s no reason for you to come where you’re not wanted, Maggie. Maggie? Do you hear me? I want you to know that I’m here for you if you need me…”
Her body shaking, Maggie slumped to the floor.
Taylor was gone – dead. The words did not make sense. It was too horrible to have happened.
Maggie’s lips trembled as the devastating reality seared through her - one day Taylor was alive, and the next he was gone, his bright light extinguished, and she did not even get a chance to say good-bye.
Three hours later, Maggie was seated on a plane to Vancouver. The past few hours had been a surreal haze: she barely remembered stumbling through the security check and wading through the airport maze like a zombie. Despite her eyes being red and puffy from all the crying, Maggie did her best to appear composed: she was dressed tidily into a pair of jeans and a black turtleneck with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. She huddled into her seat, with her hands pressed firmly on her lap to prevent them from shaking. In the overhead compartment above her stood a neatly packed carry-on bag stacked with only the barest of necessities that her mother had helped her pack.
While going through the motions of her departure, Maggie had been able to keep the tears in check, focusing her mind on the singular purpose of boarding the plane on time. But now that she was alone with her thoughts, her composure was on the verge of disintegration, and she sensed the treacherous prickle in her eyes. She lifted a crumpled tissue and furiously dabbed her eyes: she hated the idea of crying in public; hated the thought of people eyeing her with curious glances. She wished she could retreat to the privacy of her room so that she could cry until she did not have any tears left.
Taylor had come into her life like a ray of sunshine, bringing unbelievable joy and happiness, illuminating her colorless existence with his love. Because of him, she began to believe in herself, learning to understand the true values of life, and now, he was gone. No, she thought, Taylor will never be lost to me. I will forever cherish his memory. Each precious moment they had spent together was forever etched in her mind - the vivid memories seemed more real to her than the devastating present.
Maggie stroked the emerald ring on her finger, thinking of the joy on Taylor’s face when she had said yes – the joy that mirrored her own feelings. If anyone had told her a month ago that she would agree to cardinally change her life to be with a man she had only known for a handful of weeks, Maggie would have laughed at the idea: love like that only happened in fairy tales. But a month ago, Maggie did not know Taylor Denton.
During the two weeks that she had been with Taylor, Maggie had felt as though she had known him her whole life. There was something primal about the connection they shared, as though they were meant to be together. Even now, Maggie could still sense her connection to Taylor, and she refused to let it go.
It was one o’clock in the afternoon when Maggie arrived in Vancouver the following day. After going through customs, Maggie quickly headed for the counter of a rental car agency. She had reserved a car online when booking her airfare because she did not want to be dependent on cabs in Eagleville.
Twenty minutes later, she was seated behind the wheel of a rental sedan, looking over the map to make sure of the directions. She had a long drive ahead of her, with the difficult task of facing Taylor’s family and friends looming over her – the people she had grown to love, but who no longer wanted her in their lives. Well, they were free to think what they wanted, but she would not let them rob her of her right to say her last goodbye to the man she loved.
Maggie had been driving for almost two hours when she finally saw Eagleville come into view. She steered the car onto the road that led to Millie’s and Phil’s house. Taylor’s house was about ten miles prior to that of his grandparents, and Maggie’s heart gave a jolt when she passed it on the way. Maggie slowed down the car as she hopefully eyed Taylor’s house, but the windows were dark, the door was shut, and his car was in the driveway. Suddenly, she felt foolish and angry at herself. What did she expect? That Taylor would come out and greet her, telling her that it all had been a terrible mistake?
Maggie pressed on. She had to see Millie and Phil, even if, as Jeffrey had warned her, they did not want to see her. There was something that Millie and Phil did not know: Maggie and Taylor had agreed that they would not break the news of their engagement until Maggie’s return to Eagleville. Well, there would be no happy announcement now, and Maggie had an altogether different task before her. She had to return the engagement ring Taylor had given her to Millie and Phil. As much as she would have liked to keep the ring as a memory of Taylor, the ring had belonged to his mother, and Maggie understood that now that Taylor was gone, the right thing to do was to return the ring to Taylor’s family.
Maggie parked her car in the driveway and walked quietly to the front door.
The house looked still, and despite it being light outside, the curtains were drawn on the windows. Maggie rang the bell and heard the chiming sound travel into the back of the house. She waited for an answer, but no one came to the door.
She tried again, but still, no answer. Finally, she decided to go to the hotel and crash for the night. She would try again tomorrow.
In an almost catatonic state Maggie brought the car to a halt in front of the Ritz entrance where it was mercifully taken off her hands by the attendant. She stumbled inside, anxious to finally get to her room.
When she got to the reception desk, she saw that the check in line stretched all the way down the lobby. It was Thursday and lots of people had flown in to get an early start on their yearly ski vacation. Maggie quietly took her place at the end of the line. Her dejected appearance was a stark contrast to the joyful mood of the people around her who were cheerfully swapping last years’ ski stories, boasting about their new ski equipment, and anticipating the enjoyment of their vacation. She shrank from the mirth around her, feeling like an alien onlooker, a visitor from another dimension. The boisterous crowd around her belonged to another world, a world she could not imagine herself ever rejoining again. She stared at the floor in order to avoid intercepting the bystanders’ cheerful looks, fearing that if she did, she would burst into tears right then and there.
Despite three clerks at the check-in counter frantically punching in the reservations, the line seemed to come to a standstill as each arriving party took its time to enquire about upgrades to a better view or a larger room. The clerks seemed positively overwhelmed as they exchanged frantic
glances with one another, bright smiles frozen permanently on their faces. The crowd grew louder, its impatience mounting. As if on cue, a man dressed in an impeccably tailored suit rushed to the counter with two more clerks following him. He was not fazed by the commotion in the least; in fact, he seemed to enjoy it as he greeted the guests, finding flattering things to say to appease their impatience, instilling order among the clerks, akin to a conductor willing a discordant orchestra into harmony. Immediately, the scene began to change, as if transformed with a wave of a magic wand.
Finally, it was Maggie’s turn.
“Good afternoon. Welcome to the Ritz.”
Hearing the crisp enunciation, Maggie looked up and recognized the hotel manager who had greeted her, what felt like ages ago, when she had first arrived to Eagleville with Jeffrey.
“I’d like to check in please,” she murmured, placing her credit card on the desk.
“Certainly, Miss Robin,” said the manager, glancing at the card, his eyes darting quickly at Maggie and back at the computer screen. If he had recognized her, he did not show it, as an unwavering expression of cordiality remained on his face. “Let me see me if we have any upgrades available…” The manager punched in several keyboard strokes.
“No need,” said Maggie quietly. “I would like to get to my room as soon as possible. I will only be staying here for one night.”
“Certainly, Miss Robin. Here is your room key. Enjoy your stay,” added the manager, his bright expression turning uneasy when he met the look in Maggie’s eyes. “Do you have any luggage we could help you with?” asked the manager, regaining his composure.
“No, thank you. I can manage.” Maggie motioned at her duffel bag on the floor.
“Our porters can help you with that,” the manager assured her, clearly determined to provide first-grade service, regardless of the patron’s wishes. Before Maggie could stop him, he was signaling for help.
A porter instantly appeared by the desk, having materialized out of nowhere: this was, after all, the Ritz. “Shawn, please help Miss Robin with her bags – it’s room 415,” said the manager, already directing his attention to the next guest.
