Past Forward- A Serial Novel: Volume 2

by Chautona Havig

  Before they entered, he handed her a digital camera. “Use this. I’ll get your pictures printed for you, but this way you can take all you want without running out of film.”

  Bill led the way through the simulated bamboo gates and into the Asian portion of the zoo. The peafowl were one of the first things they saw. “They’re smaller than I always imagined. I thought they’d be bigger somehow. The tail is long, but look at that little body!”

  As they wandered through the zoo, Willow delighted Bill with her observations and the innumerable pictures she took. Tigers were favorites. Not too large or small, they satisfied her imagination and expectations perfectly. The pandas did not fare so well. The moment she reached the enclosure, Willow sank onto a bench; her arms drooped dejectedly.

  “They’re so big!”

  Bill couldn’t imagine what the problem was. “They’re smaller than all the other bears—”

  “But I always thought they were little—like koalas. They’re too big.” Her eyes grew wide. “Oh no! Are koalas big too?”

  As they went through the continents, Willow’s comments amused more than just Bill. She spent twenty minutes staring at the giraffes, awestruck by their height and apparent gentleness. “Wouldn’t it be amazing to be God and be able to create something so magnificent? Look at that! Everything defies nature. Evolution would never have a chance to develop a neck like that—the species would have died out first.”

  Bill’s indulgent smile annoyed her. He shook his head and tried to show that the choice of food may have come after the neck growth. “It doesn’t have to work the other way around.”

  “Why would the neck grow for food that it doesn’t know it wants? That’s just ridiculous.”

  A sense of wonder enshrouded her at the sight of the gorillas. “Look! There you can see where the idea of evolution could take hold.”

  Bill stared at her in shock. “Do what?”

  “I didn’t say I agreed, but when you look at them—the way they interact and their features—you can see where people got the idea anyway. I never understand the nothing to something to slime to slop to worm to man connection, but if you skip all of that and just look at him and you, you can actually see a connection.”

  “Gee thanks.”

  Laughing, she hooked her arm in his and moved to the aviary. The flamingos in all their showiness made her think of Chuck, and she made sure Bill took a picture of her with them. From one place to the next, her zoology lessons literally came alive. She commented on the animal noises and stood in amazement at the immense size of animals like elephants and hippopotami.

  “I think I could live here. Can you imagine taking care of these creatures? It’s like a small piece of Eden right in the middle of the city!”

  Nothing else that Willow could have said would have made the impact on him that her comfort in the zoo did. She talked with several of the zookeepers, asked intelligent questions, and in the course of the afternoon, learned more about the care of exotic animals than most people know about their household pets. Despite his desire for her to enjoy herself, Bill’s interest flagged in the mid to late afternoon. As the sun began to set, Willow finally tore away from the Artic wolves and followed Bill to the car.

  “Oh that was incredible. I have to go back. Do they let the animals out all winter? Maybe I can take the bus into the city. I have less work in winter.”

  As they pulled into Rockland traffic, Bill carefully broached the subject that had been whirling through his mind. “Have you considered that you’d enjoy being a zookeeper?”

  “Oh wouldn’t that be wonderful! Taking care of animals so far from where they originated? All the breeding programs and the—”

  She rhapsodized all the way to the farm. Bill asking questions and making suggestions for further study kept her excitement level high, but at the sight of home, she switched the focus of her delight to her farm. “I love this place. The trees, the fields, the animals. And, it’s so close to the zoo!”

  Bill felt like banging his head on the steering wheel. Every time he thought he had her thinking in a different direction and working hard to do it without coercion, she refocused on home. It was enough to make him want to drive home and never leave the city again. Almost.

  “Come in, I have a chicken in the crockpot.”

  Her kitchen felt as cold as the outdoors. Bill fought the temptation to let his teeth chatter while she built fires in the stoves. He felt useless. Chad would probably be in there loading everything for her, but all he could do was stand around, hands thrust in his jacket pockets, with his teeth trying to whittle each other down to a nub. Even Chuck probably knew how to stack a fireplace or a stove. Bill felt ridiculous. Even if the self-absorbed man did know something as practical as how to lay a fire, he wouldn’t ever think of doing it when someone else was there to do it for him.

  “S—sorry I’m no help.”

  “It’s just cold in here because I haven’t been cooking. Why don’t you go out to the barn and get the crockpot.”

  Bill almost choked on the idea that her food was cooking in the barn. “Why is it out there?”

  “Electricity. I don’t use it often, but I do have one so when I want to use it, I do it in the kitchen in the barn.”

  After his jaw connected to his knees and repositioned itself, Bill asked the question of the day. “Why not just turn on the electricity in the house then?”

  “We just don’t use the electricity in the house.”

  Bill stumbled down the steps and into the yard. Saige bounced around his ankles nearly tripping him. He’d never been so thankful for moonlight in his life. How did she see to get out there?

  He snapped on a light just inside the barn door and sighed in relief as a floodlight filled the yard. Another light brightened the barn and a third lit the way to the kitchen. With his jacket sleeves as potholders, Bill returned to the house, feeling much more comfortable in the lights from the barn than he’d ever felt at night at Willow’s home.

  “I found the floodlight.”

  “I noticed. Can you fill plates for us while I milk Willie?”

  Without waiting for an answer, Willow exited into the bright lights of the yard. Bill heard her shout to someone, but by the time he got to the door, he knew who was there. Chad had arrived. This wasn’t good. Seconds later, the lights that illuminated the house disappeared leaving the kitchen lit only by an oil lantern. Though soft and beautiful, Finley lamplight left too many shadows for his comfort level.

  Chad burst into the kitchen, rubbing his hands together and shivering. “Man it got cold fast! How are you?”

  “Supposed to be doing something with this chicken but—”

  Apparently oblivious to the fact that Bill answered a question he hadn’t asked, Chad shook off his jacket and peeked into the stove. He grabbed the stove poker, jabbed the wood inside a few times to stir up the fire, and then came to where Bill poked ineffectively at the chicken. Almost as if assessing the situation as a crime scene, he took in the room, the food, and the stove, and reached for the platter on the hutch, nudging Bill out of the way.

  “I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you sit down? You’ve been on your feet all day.”

  Bill sat and answered what seemed like insipid questions about the animals and Willow’s reactions to them, while Chad removed the chicken, carved it onto two plates, and dished up the vegetables. He poured milk, buttered bread, and set the table as Bill talked about lions, tigers, and bears—not to mention a few birds. Silverware appeared on the table followed by salt and pepper.

  It was evident, within seconds of Chad’s arrival, that he belonged there. The man’s comfort level in the house was completely different than Bill’s, and he felt it. He watched uncomfortably as Chad went into the living room, stirred up the wood stove, adjusted the window coverings, and pounded up the stairs and minutes later, hurried down again. When Willow came in the kitchen, Chad asked about the chickens and then pulled on his jacket, commenting that he though
t she hadn’t been gone long enough.

  “I’ll get them. You sit and eat. You must be starved.”

  Willow hadn’t touched the fire since she’d returned from the barn. Bill watched as she shrugged out of her jacket, stepped out of the boots she’d worn, and held her hands over the stove to warm them. They worked together like old friends. She knew exactly what he’d done in her absence; he knew exactly what to do. Bill was out of place.

  With an abrupt shove of his chair, Bill stood. “I need to go. Thanks for coming with me today.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  Bill shook his head awkwardly. “No, not really, it’s just—” he rubbed his chin, before reaching into his pocket and grabbing is keys. “I don’t fit out here. I—I’m sorry. Thanks again.”

  He paused as he passed her. While she stood with a pie in her hands, Bill placed his hands on her shoulders, and gave a half-hearted smile. “You’re good for me. I think—I think I’m just better as your financial advisor than I am as a friend.” He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “Bye, Willow.”

  Several minutes later, Chad brought a basket of eggs into the kitchen and found Willow sitting in her usual chair, a pie in her lap. “He left.”

  “Where’d he go?”

  “Home. For good.”

  Confused, Chad tried again. “Did something go wrong today?”

  She shrugged. “I had so much fun. We talked and dreamed all the way home and then I came in from the milking and he left.”

  “It’s probably my fault. I intruded on his date. I’m sorry. I just thought the lights—”

  “He loved those lights,” Willow began. “It wasn’t you. It was him. He hates it out here. I thought he’d gotten over that.” She looked at the plates of food. “Have you eaten?”

  With his jacket off and hanging over the chair, Chad sank into the chair and watched as Willow ate mechanically. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll teach me a new game, because I’m not in the mood for Chinese checkers.”

  “What do you have that you don’t know how to play?”

  “Nothing,” she admitted. “But surely you have something.”

  Chad pictured his closet with a box of papers that he hadn’t looked at since he’d set it there the day he moved into the apartment. His kitchen cupboards were empty. He had nothing but a television, some paintball gear… video games…

  “I’ll be back in a while,” he said, jumping up from his chair.

  “Eat first and then go. I’ll take a shower while you’re gone.”

  “Yahtzee again! How do you do that?”

  Willow’s grin spread as she passed the dice cup. “Your turn.”

  After three rolls, Chad marked a zero for his twos. In typical Willow style, they played the entire sheet as one game. She had said she didn’t see why they should only play one column when they could play six. The game migrated from the kitchen table, to the couch, and finally to the floor in front of the woodstove. Lying on their stomachs, they faced each other like gunslingers in the old west.

  “Small straight. Thirty points.”

  “My mom calls that a little straight,” Chad commented irrelevantly.

  “Tell me about her.”

  An involuntary smile grew on Chad’s face. He loved his mother and knew Willow could see it just watching him as he thought about her. “Mom is the greatest. She’s one of those women who seem a little ditzy at times and appears to be a pushover, but mom’s sharp as a tack. We didn’t get away with anything.”

  “Will she like me?”

  “I can’t wait for you to meet her. I think you’re going to hit it off great.”

  The uncertainty in her voice surprised him as she pressed. “She’s a city woman though, right? Are you sure she won’t be uncomfortable around someone like me? I mean—”

  Chad covered the dice cup with his hand stopping her roll. “Willow, not everyone is like Bill. Bill’s not a bad guy. I think he just feels so out of place here, and some people don’t adapt well. Most people adapt at least a little to whatever surroundings they’re in, but I think Bill just can’t. He’s very one-track. Focused. Do you know what I mean?”

  Nodding, Willow pulled the cup from under Chad’s hand and shook it. One full house later, she passed it back to Chad and said, “I don’t know. I think maybe Mother was right. Maybe friendships aren’t a good idea.”

  The lost tone in her voice found its way to a place in Chad’s heart that he’d guarded well. She’d lost her mother. Then, in taking a risk in areas her mother had avoided, she’d opened her heart to friends and had already lost one. How much loss would she suffer before she gave up on people entirely, or worse, grew bitter and changed the person at the core of who she was?

  He thought of Rockland, the police force, and his career. Memories of conversations with Luke, the chief, his father, and his mother flooded into Chad’s mind. Sheriff. He could become a sheriff. He could stay on the Fairbury force for the rest of his life. Brunswick was close. Was her friendship enough of a reason to potentially change the course of his life? Then again, how could he not? How could he leave her alone and vulnerable?

  “Willow, friends are worth it. Even when you lose them, they’re worth it. Some of us just have better sticking power than others. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Of course you are,” she protested as she recorded four sixes in her four of a kind. “You’re moving to Rockland in just under four years if you get half a chance.”

  “I already turned down Rockland. As far as I’ve planned, I’m staying right here in Fairbury. I might even start looking for a house in a couple of years. I can afford it better here.”

  She passed the dice cup to him thoughtfully. “You turned down a chance at Rockland? Why?”

  Squirming, he shook the cup much harder than necessary and managed four twos. At least he had one column of twos left. As he wrote the number down, he tried to formulate an answer. He had to word things carefully or she might misunderstand him. If he said she was the reason, Willow might feel guilty or worse, assume a romantic attachment that Chad didn’t have, didn’t want, and wanted to avoid at all costs. His aunt Libby was right, as usual, and he intended to benefit from her wise counsel.

  “I wasn’t ready for it, and the longer time passes, the more I realize that I wasn’t seeing the job I have right here, right now. I need to own and respect the job I have before I search for something ‘bigger,’ and I have a feeling that day isn’t going to come. This job gets bigger the longer I’m at it.”

  “Well, you might not leave yet,” she began, “But Bill’s gone, Lee’s going, I always feel awkward with Mrs. Varney, Lily is a dear friend, but I’ve heard something about them moving to be nearer her parents, and even Chuck doesn’t come around often.”

  The game continued without much talking for some time. As columns filled, they tallied scores, each of them fiercely competitive until the sheets were completely filled. In the end, Willow and her streak of Yahtzees won by a huge margin.

  “You win. This time. I’ll beat you next time,” Chad added as he went to add another log to the stove.

  Willow’s smile lit her face, and in the glow of the oil lantern, it was a lovely sight. “There will be a next game, won’t there?” she mused quietly to herself.

  Chad’s hand rested on her head for a moment before he turned to leave. “Even if I did move to Rockland tomorrow, there’d be a next game before the month was out. I don’t have many friends, Willow. I don’t make them easily. But when I have a friend, I am a friend. Period.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  “… so they want to come out and interview you. I didn’t give them your number without asking first, but it’d be such great publicity for the store.”

  Lee practically bounced as she talked to Willow after church the next morning. Willow’s mind, still on the sermon and wondering where the “one-anothering” that Pastor Allen spoke of fit into her world, nodded absen
tly and agreed. “Sure, that’s fine.”

  “Oh thank you! I wasn’t sure… I know you’re private and all that, but—” Lee hugged her quickly and skittered out the door phone in hand and dialing someone.

  Willow disappeared into the bathroom and changed her shoes in the stall. She’d learned that if anyone saw her changing shoes, they’d feel obligated to offer her a ride home. As thoughtful as their gestures were, most of the time she looked forward to the walk. She was used to an active life doing for herself. The speed in which others lived theirs, she found wearying.

  Her conversation with Chad still tumbled in her thoughts. Identifying the extremes was easy. If she avoided all people, that would be selfish and unhealthy. Her mother’s situation was unique, and while she’d made the best decision for her, it wasn’t the best decision for Willow. However, she led a busy life. Her responsibilities filled most of her time, and what was left was precious to her. She needed to invest in friendships that allowed her to be herself.

  She had no doubts. Chad was a friend. He’d be her friend regardless of where he went or what he did. There was a lot of comfort in knowing that someone else out there cared about her. She’d hoped, she’d even prayed, that somehow the contact with her family at the funeral might spark at least a cordial, even if infrequent, relationship with them, but she hadn’t heard from any of them since. It didn’t hurt—she wasn’t one to mourn the loss of that which she’d never had. However, in hindsight, Chad was more family-like than anyone she could have imagined.

  She rounded the corner and onto the highway deep in thought. Libby was a wonderful friend. She was the kind of woman that Willow knew would be there if she could, and if not, her prayers would include Willow regardless. But Lily—somehow Willow instinctively knew that if Lily did move near St. Louis to be closer to her parents, her friendship would slowly fade. Lily wasn’t an unfaithful friend as much as one who was so busy with the here and now that she found little time for the “back then.”

  Lost in her own world of sorting relationships, Willow didn’t notice a sedan creeping along the highway beside her. As she mentally worked out ways to reciprocate visits to Libby, send letters to Lily, and reminded herself to pray for Lee and Bill in Rockland, the driver watched her. Eventually, Willow glanced up into the laughing eyes of Chad.