The Season of Passage

by Unknown

  The next half-hour made him think his watch battery had leaked acid into the gears. But when she finally did reappear, he wished he'd had longer to psych himself up. She wore a white tennis-court skirt and a red top. Her hair was damp. The clothes he could handle, but the wet hair was too much, particularly because it was so dark to begin with. Black hair on a pale-skinned Caucasian was something that he didn't normally see in nature. It was little things like that in a woman that got him. He stood up and almost fell over. She giggled and apologized for the tenth time for keeping him waiting. He shrugged. He was cool. He told her he had plenty of time. Again.

  She explained she was not very good at interviews. He said he wasn't, either. She laughed, and he realized he had told a joke. Together they sat on a pile of gymnastic mats. He pulled out his recorder and pointed the mike in her direction. It was a sad testament to the emptiness of his life that he had to fight to keep his hands from trembling. She followed his movements with the sweetest brown eyes he had ever seen. Now it was her eyes he was in love with. Her hair had begun to dry. It was only dark brown, he told himself.

  He began to start the interview, but he couldn't think of a single question to ask an astronaut who was going to Mars. He just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

  'What's your phone number?' he asked.

  Lauren smiled and reached over and turned off his recorder. 'I'll write it down,' she said.

  But that's why I've stopped here, Terry thought, a couple of miles shy of the cabin. She can always write it down again for another guy. On Mars she could give it to an alien for all 1 would know.

  Yet Terry trusted Lauren. She was completely loyal. He just didn't trust the reasons why she was loyal to him. There didn't seem to be any. Oh, he was funny and nice and took a shower every morning, and stuff like that. But nowadays half the young girls in the country were dreaming about growing up like Dr Lauren Wagner, while he was nobody, with as much chance of having his cockroach story nominated for the Pulitzer as Ricky had of getting a date

  with the teenage girl of his dreams. Terry really was like his cockroach. He was constantly waiting to be stepped on. Years ago, someone had stepped on him when he had passed out drunk at the county fair. It had made a deep impression on him. He had woken up with a broken nose.

  Lauren went out with him just once and knew he was an alcoholic, even though he abstained from alcohol for twenty-four hours before their date. She was straightforward: she told him she liked him, but if he kept drinking, she wouldn't speak to him again. And she promised him that she would know if he drank, and the way she said it, he knew she would know. So he stopped. Simple as that. And Mars was the fourth planet from the sun, and they lived on the third planet from the sun, and his woman was going to fly to Mars in a spaceship, and be gone for two years. Yeah, it was very simple. Going sober had been hard. Her leaving was worse. He was proud of Lauren and all that, but he wished she had been the receptionist at Mission Control, and not the famous doctor jogging in the gym.

  Terry got back in his car and drove toward the cabin. It was getting dark; he flipped on the lights. Between the thick trees he caught a glimpse of the flat shadow that was the lake. He loved Wyoming. His parents had left him the cabin when they had died together in a plane crash shortly after his twenty-first birthday. That was one thing he had in common with Lauren. She had lost both her parents in a car crash, when she too was only twenty-one - in her first year of medical school. Jennifer was only two at the time. Terry was proud of Lauren for a lot of reasons. If he'd had to raise a little sister from scratch, he wouldn't have been able to hold a job at McDonald's. She amazed him, she really did. He wanted to write a book about her someday.

  Terry was reaching for the radio dial when he heard the gunshots. The first one made him jerk the car onto the shoulder of the road. The two did nothing to settle his nerves. He figured they must be from hunters, but he stepped on the gas. When he finally rounded the final mountain turn, and saw Jennifer in the front of his cabin playing with her friend, he was amazed at the intensity of the relief that washed through him. He hated guns. He even hated fireworks. He figured he must have been in dozens of battles in his past lives. Not that he believed in such things, but it kept him from thinking he was a natural neurotic. He parked and got out. Jennifer raced over and jumped in his arms, almost knocking him over.

  'Terry! We've been waiting for you all day. This is my friend. Do you know each other?'

  'Sure,' Terry said. 'Hi, Danny. It's been a long time.'

  Daniel shook his hand. 'Yes, sir. I'm surprised you remembered my name.'

  'I have a good memory for names,' Terry said. Jennifer continued to hug him, a bundle of yellow hair, and God, it was good to hold her. Jennifer had to be the brightest kid he had ever met. Sometimes when he looked at her, he found himself peeking over his shoulder to see who had turned on the spotlight. The kid had charisma, and it was a shame she hid it behind a reserved character. Terry didn't think even Lauren knew how much the expedition had Jennifer worried. Hell, just thinking about it made him sick to his stomach. He didn't trust technology, not when he couldn't pronounce the names of half the devices they had aboard their ship.

  'And I never forget a newspaper boy,' Terry added. 'I work for a newspaper myself.'

  "That's what Lauren was saying,' Daniel said.

  'He's a great writer,' Jennifer said. 'He writes books about time travel and cockroaches and stuff.'

  'I hate cockroaches,' Daniel said.

  'You just haven't met the ones in Terry's book,' Jennifer said.

  'Hey, Danny,' Terry said. 'Was that your gun I heard?'

  The boy hesitated. 'Yes, sir. I'm sorry if it bothered you. I was just shooting at cans.'

  'That type of shooting doesn't bother me. Jenny, where's Lauren?'

  'She went to put her clothes on,' Daniel said. He winced. 'I mean...

  Terry laughed. 'I know what you mean.'

  'I'm sure you do,' a soft voice chuckled behind him.

  He turned, and Lauren smiled warmly and walked toward him. She wore white shorts, a damp T-shirt. The last few days in the sun had given her a tan that he wished she could carry with her to Mars. Her figure was excellent. Although on the short side, she moved with the confidence of a person who didn't know what it was like to lose, which had intimidated him at first, but which now turned him on. She had Jennifer's great mouth, wide and full of white teeth. She came close to having the little girl's radiant smile, which was saying a lot. Yet, otherwise, the two did not look alike. Lauren was cute. Jennifer was beautiful. Terry had decided long ago he could handle the balance in his life.

  She's been swimming. Her hair's wet. God.

  Lauren's hair was straight, cut short, with bangs that reached to her eyebrows. She wiggled her nose at him as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

  'Nice of you to drop by,' she said, kissing him.

  Terry shrugged. 'I was in the neighborhood.'

  Lauren glanced at staring Daniel and Jennifer. 'What are you two looking at?'

  Jennifer giggled. Daniel said hastily, 'I better be on my way. I'll come by tomorrow before you leave, Jenny.'

  'Come early,' Terry said. 'We're leaving at six.'

  'I'll be here before then,' Daniel said firmly. He touched Jennifer's shoulder awkwardly.

  'Be sure to come,' Jennifer said.

  Twill,' Daniel said.

  'Promise?'

  'Yes.' He squeezed her hand and collected the rifle hidden in the shadowy trees. He waved as he rode off on his bike.

  'Seems like a nice young man,' Terry said.

  'No taste in women,' Lauren remarked. 'Where are we going to eat tonight? I'm starved.'

  'We'll let Jenny decide,' Terry said. Jennifer was staring in the direction of the road, where Daniel had disappeared. 'Jenny?'

  'I'm not hungry,' she mumbled. 'Would it be OK if I stayed here?'

  'Daniel must be coming back later,' Lauren said mischievously. But Jennifer's mood
had already shifted. Terry had seen it before. Yet her gloom was unlike that normally seen in depressed people. It appeared more of a withdrawal from her surroundings than an attack of unhappiness.

  'No,' Jennifer said softly, answering Lauren.

  Lauren sensed the change, Terry could see that. She had learned from experience not to challenge it. 'Sure, honey,' Lauren said. 'If you want to stay, that's fine. But at least eat something later, OK? I'll stick a baked potato in the oven. There's chicken wings in the fridge from yesterday. There's salad fixings, too. I could make you one before we leave.'

  'Don't bother,' Jennifer said. She stepped to the stump in front of the cabin and picked up a red-covered book.

  'Well, there's yogurt and fruit,' Lauren said. 'If you want some of that later.'

  'Maybe later,' Jennifer said, not interested. She opened her book and began to study the pages in the dark.

  'We don't have to go out,' Terry said to Lauren.

  Lauren hesitated a moment. 'Nonsense. Jenny's been babysitting Matthew's twins for two years. She can take care of herself. I have to go into isolation the day after tomorrow. This will be my last date for two years.'

  Terry smiled. 'Unless the Martians take a fancy to you. Get dressed. Casual. We'll eat at Russo's. He told me his son, Mike, is just dying to meet the famous woman astronaut.'

  Lauren went inside the cabin. Terry went to the stump where Jennifer sat reading. It was amazing she could make out a word in the dark. She didn't seem to notice that she had company. A minute passed. Finally, he said, 'A good book?'

  Jennifer closed the book and hugged the front cover to her chest. 'Terry? Where do stories come from?'

  'Huh?'

  'Where do the writers get them?'

  Terry knelt beside her, noticing the silence of the surrounding forest. Venus shone bright in the western sky. Lauren had pointed it out to him once. He used to think it was an airplane or a star or a balloon. Actually, he never used to think about the sky at all.

  'No one really knows for certain,' he said. 'But I would say stories come from inside us, from the accumulation of our experiences.'

  'From our memories?' Jennifer asked.

  'Yes. When I write, the people I create often resemble those I know, or used to know. But their thoughts, they are usually mine alone.'

  'But you write so many different characters.'

  'I must have many different people inside me.'

  Jennifer considered. 'But you don't believe in the books you write, do you? They're only stories. They don't mean anything.'

  'Sure, they're make-believe. But I like to think they have some truth in them. Usually I enjoy the world I'm writing in more than the world I live in.'

  A smile touched her lips. But the smile didn't last, slipping from her face as something cold blew across her thoughts. She looked up at the dark sky. 'Terry? Could a story come from outside?'

  'Yeah. Once I saw a kid stuck in a tree and a bunch of other kids below making fun of him, and it got me thinking about a book where ... Wait a second. What exactly do you mean by outside?'

  He never did get to find out what she meant. Lauren came out of the cabin then. But the reason he'd asked Jennifer to clarify her question was because of the way she'd said the word outside. It had been as if she had been talking about way outside, like on another planet. It spooked him for some reason, and he was not the superstitious type.

  'Let's go, boyfriend.' Lauren hurried toward them, all the while brushing her hair. She had put on brown slacks and a yellow blouse. Terry stood reluctantly. He would have liked to talk to Jennifer longer.

  T put two small potatoes in the oven,' Lauren continued. 'In case you change your mind. Remember the chicken in the icebox. Please try to eat something.'

  Jennifer nodded but remained seated. 'Maybe later.'

  Lauren leaned over and kissed her cheek. 'We'll probably be in before eleven, but if you get tired, don't wait up. We have a long drive ahead of us tomorrow.' They were driving, not flying back to Houston. Lauren said she wanted to look at the highways, because they wouldn't

  have them on Mars. Personally, Terry hated long drives. He had flown up just for the night. Lauren poked him in the side. 'I want to drive tonight,' she said.

  Terry handed her the keys. 'I'll be with you in a moment,' he said. Lauren left to start the car. Once again, he was alone with Jennifer. He fluffed up her beautiful hair. 'I'll wake you when I get up. You'll have time to spend with Danny.'

  Jennifer grasped his hand as he started to walk away. She stared at Lauren behind the wheel of the car. 'She shouldn't go there,' Jennifer whispered.

  Terry sighed. 'I wish she wasn't.' He kissed her on the cheek. 'Goodbye, Princess.'

  'Goodbye, Terry.'

  Terry walked towards the car and climbed inside. Lauren gunned the engine, and the serenity of the forest fled. He kept his eyes on Jennifer as they drove away. He thanked God they weren't both leaving.

  THREE

  Jennifer Wagner sat for a long time after Terry and Lauren left. It got darker. Presently the moon rose over the lake. A breeze stirred, and she watched the moonbeams dance on the water. They reminded her of something she had seen long ago. What it was, though, she couldn't say. She began to feel cold, decided to go inside and build a fire. On Mars, Lauren said, it was always cold, and fire could not burn in the open.

  Jennifer liked flames.

  Her book in hand, Jennifer went to the rear of the cabin, where Terry kept a woodpile. Her own tiny cabin was also in the back. It had been a storage shed a couple of years ago, but Terry had converted it for her, putting in a bathroom and a bed. She liked privacy, where she could read undisturbed. Plus she hated to be a nuisance when Lauren and Terry wanted to be alone. She knew about sex and stuff like that. She could hardly wait until they got married. She would be Lauren's bridesmaid. She wondered who would be Terry's best man. He didn't have many friends, not that she knew of. But the wedding wouldn't be for a couple of years. Not until Lauren returned from Mars. She had meant it when she had told Terry she wished Lauren wasn't going there.

  Jennifer was afraid something very bad was going to happen to Lauren on Mars.

  She picked up a log and walked into the cabin. She came back twice more; the logs were heavy - she could only carry one at a time. But she bet Daniel could have lifted all three at once, in one arm even. She wished Lauren hadn't been joking when she had said that he was sneaking back later on. They could have talked, and maybe have gone for a walk under the stars. It was a shame.

  Because now she had no excuse not to read the book.

  Why do I have to read it? It's only a story.

  Jennifer tossed the third and final log in the fireplace and took hold of two dry sticks from the basket of kindling by the hearth. She seldom needed a match or a lighter to start a fire. Terry and Lauren were always amazed at how easily she got the flames going. Lauren had said long ago that if Smokey the Bear knew of her skills, he would brain her with his shovel. But that had been when Jennifer was younger and believed in talking bears. Nowadays Lauren accused her of being a pyromaniac. Jennifer, however, was always careful with fire. She respected it deeply.

  Jennifer began to rub the sticks together, humming a melody she often repeated when she was alone. She did not know where she had learned the song, although she might have heard it on the radio. Quickly the sticks began to heat. In a few seconds she had smoke, and then a tiny orange flame, which she fed with scraps of bark from the sides of the logs. The bark was dry; the logs caught fast. The chill melted off her skin like mud disappeared from her feet in a running stream. Jennifer smiled.

  She really loved fires.

  Jennifer moved close to the logs and stared at the flames. The warmth that came from them always had a soothing effect on her. She blinked in the warm light and her mind began to drift. There was another funny thing about fire. The longer she stared into it, the more colors she saw. There were greens and blues and purples, pulsating on and off, deep wi
thin the yellow flames. Once Jennifer had asked Lauren about them and Lauren said she must be seeing the burn-off of residual chemicals on the logs. Jennifer wasn't sure Lauren was right. Sometimes the pulsating colors took on the faint shapes of faces. They were never people she knew, but they looked like people she thought she should know.

  Jennifer shifted still closer to the fire, wanting to touch it. Of course, she knew, the idea was childish and dangerous. Yet she occasionally wondered what it would be like to be immersed in flames, and not burn. She was not certain, even after all this time of growing up, whether fire had to burn every time, or everybody.

  Quickly, Jennifer waved her hand through the fire. If you were fast, it missed you. She slashed her hand above the logs again, and then again and again, slowing down a fraction of a second with each try. It was a game she often played. It was fun. The flames never hurt her. Nevertheless, Jennifer suspected there was a limit beyond which she shouldn't slew down. And it wasn't just because she might get burned. Something else might happen. She could feel the something else in the same way she could see the colored sparks and the faint faces - just between what she believed was real, and what might be imagination, in a slippery part of the mind she could never quite grasp. But this something else - she didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

  Jennifer sat back and looked at the red book waiting on the couch. That was exactly how she felt - it was waiting for her, like a story that had been written for her eyes alone.

  Some love story, she thought sarcastically. But she'd had to lie to Lauren. Had she told Lauren the truth, her sister might have told her not to read it. Lauren worried about what Jennifer put in her head because of her nightmares. But the book had to be read, Jennifer felt certain of that. There were things that had to be known, terrible things.

  But why? Jennifer thought. She did not know. The colored faces in the fire did not know either, or if they did, they were not telling her. The whole thing had her confused. She knew things she didn't really know; she sensed the knowledge. She felt things no one else seemed to feel.