The Forging

by Jeffrey Hancock

  “Oh, I don’t think it’s a prudent idea yet,” Charlene said all the while taking quick looks into her house.

  “I’m sure it is not a prudent idea. However, I believe it’s the right thing to do,” I said with a little firmness in my voice.

  “If the boy wants to come in, by all means, let him in.” His voice didn’t sound any less grumpy than before on the phone.

  Char let me by and under her breath said. “Oh, great.”

  Her father is at the dining room table doing some task I couldn’t quite make out. As I approached, it became evident he is cleaning an impressive old double-barrel shotgun. He is telling me something. My stomach started doing summersaults as though someone had let loose a kaleidoscope of butterflies in it. I stretched out my hand. “Hello, sir. My name is Nathan Embers.” He looked at my hand and then looked up at me. He left me hanging there. Well, I am in his home if he wants to play it that way, he has the right. “Impressive shotgun. It’s a Greener, right?”

  He kept looking at me as he cocked an eyebrow in the same fashion Char had when we had coffee that first day. “Yes, it is. It’s been in my family for a long time. So, tell me what is it you want?”

  “I wanted to assure you there is no need for concern. I have nothing but honorable intentions for your daughter.” I stuck my hand out a second time and was unanswered again. “Please take this as gospel, for I am a man of my word. I will treat Charlene with nothing, but respect, and I will protect her while she is with me.”

  I heard an “Oh, brother,” come from Char’s direction. I ignored it as if she had never said it.

  He chimed up with a “This one has a right pretty tongue in his mouth. I’ve seen your likes before. Your kind say the right words and act the noble gentleman. Your kind don’t fool me none. You are after only one thing.”

  “Father! Don’t say that,” Charlene pleaded.

  “He’s right. I am after one thing.” Charlene’s father stood up from the table and snapped shut the barrels on the shotgun. “I want to win your daughter’s heart!” I let it sink in a moment. “I know we haven’t spent much time together, and normally I wouldn’t admit this so soon.” I paused and swallowed hard. I turned to look at her. “Every moment with her, I feel closer to her. I can only hope in time I can prove to Charlene I am a man worthy of her.” I turned back to her father. “I hope one day I can earn your respect.”

  “Well, she’s past the age she needs my permission. She can do as she likes.”

  “Yes, she can; however, it doesn’t change that I am here showing you the respect you deserve as her father.”

  “You don’t rattle easy do you, boy?” He put the shotgun down and held out his hand. I shook it as I was taught firm and proper. His grip has strength and it is on the edge of being painful.

  “Are you two done or are you gentlemen going to start thumping your chests now?” Charlene scolded as she put her hands on her hips and looked at both of us in turn.

  I looked at Char’s father and spoke first. “Yes, I think we are done.”

  “Boy, I have to give it to you. You have spunk.” There was a bit of a pause. “I don’t like spunk, but if my daughter sees fit to be in your company. Well, I’ll trust my daughter.” There was a longer pause, and then he said, staring me straight in the eyes with a steady, steely glare. “You, I’ll watch.”

  “Daddy!”

  Her father started with, “Do you have money on you?” Charlene replied she did. “Don’t stay out too late. You know how I worry.” She gave him a peck on the cheek, and we were off.

  As we walked to the car, Charlene said, “Well, that could have gone better.”

  “Yes, it could have, but at least he never loaded the shotgun.” We drove in silence for a few minutes before I turned onto the I-15. I said, “I have some surprises in store for you tonight.” I quickly turned my head toward her and smiled.

  “What kind of surprises?”

  “You’ll see. We are going to do one of my favorite activities. The other one is, I want to share something with you, which is important to me.” We started chatting about the mundane things in our lives; school, work, and overprotective parents. The time flew by. Even though I drive like an old woman and could have cut about fifteen minutes off our drive time, the ride was over too quickly. We finally arrived at our destination: The Moonlight Amphitheater. We are going to sit on a grassy knoll under the stars, have a picnic dinner, and watch some fine theater. We walked to our spot, spread out the blanket, and we ate my home-made tuna salad sandwiches.

  “Wow, this tuna is great,” Charlene said, holding her hand over her mouth and talking with her mouth full. When she finished her sandwich, she said, “I never liked tuna salad, but yours is amazing. You have to give me the recipe.”

  “If I did, you wouldn’t need me anymore. Besides, I promised my mother I wouldn’t tell anyone how to make it except my children and only if they made the same promise.”

  “So, you want children?” She said, looking at the stage because the show is about to begin. But I could see her looking at me out of the corner of her eyes.

  “Yes, I want one of each.” The show is beginning, “The Wizard of Oz.” We sat there watching until the end of the show. “How did you like it?”

  “I enjoyed the show, and they did a great job for an amateur production.” We headed back to the car. I checked the time. By my quick calculations, the timing of the second surprise would be perfect. While we drove, we talked more. All the while, I feared this would be our final date. True to her word, we have been out three times, but I still don’t know if there will be a fourth and more. Oh, how I hope there would be more.

  We pulled into the parking lot for Belmont Park. Walking to the front gate is like swimming upstream. The crowd is leaving the park. It is about closing time. “Nathan, this is a sweet idea, but the park closes in five minutes.” I urged her to keep walking. She stopped about ten feet in front of the turnstiles. I didn’t let her reluctance sway me. I am on a mission. I approached the gate attendant and exchanged a few words out of her earshot. I motioned for her to follow. “Nathan, the park is closed.”

  “Trust me,” is all I said. The attendant let us through, and we walked with purpose to the surprise. We entered the line for the Ferris wheel. We snaked our way to the front of the line. I shook hands with the man waiting there. He pressed a button on the control panel, and the wheel began to spin for a few seconds until a special car was in the loading ramp. In the car are a thermos, an igloo cooler, and a folded blanket. I quickly walked up the ramp to the car. I turned aside to let Charlene enter first, but she hadn’t followed me.

  “Nathan, I can’t get inside it. I have a dreadful fear of heights.”

  I held out my hand towards her and said, “I will look after you. I will not let you fall.” The expression on her face changed from fear to serenity. I must have said the right words. Without any further hesitation, she walked up to me, took my hand, and let me guide her into the waiting car. I placed the blanket over our laps. The operator put the restraining bar in place and sent us on our way. We rode to the top when the Ferris wheel came to a stop. As our car rocked for a couple of moments, Charlene gasped a bit and held on to the restraining bar. The car settled down, and Char relaxed. We had a beautiful view of the Pacific Ocean. It is a beautiful night, and the stars are out in force twinkling at us as if they are waving hello. It is perfect. I could not have asked for a better setting to share with Char.

  “Oh Nathan, the view. It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

  “It’s not over. Wait for it.” About five seconds later, all the lights on all the rides shutoff. We sat in the dark a moment. All is quiet. You could barely make out the sound of the waves. It is more a white noise which masked all the other sounds. The moment is right. I said, “Charlene, while all this is beautiful, it’s not exactly what I wanted to share. I want to share a story. A memory. I have never told this to anyone before.” My voice cracked.

  “Nathan,
I hear the pain in your voice. Please, I don’t want you to be in pain. It can wait for another time.”

  “While there is a little pain with this memory, it is not why I have never told anyone before.” We sat in the dark, smelling the ocean and feeling the breeze for a moment more. “When I was a young boy, I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but it was before I started remembering everything. I told my mother I wanted to travel the stars and be an astronaut. I was serious. This was not the fancy of a young child. I felt it in my soul. She dismissed it without giving it a second thought. She told me it would be too difficult to become an astronaut. Too many people tried, and only a handful ever became one. I know she was only trying to spare me the pain of a hopeless pursuit. But her words cut me to the core. To think my mother would squelch my dream. It broke my heart. I was a broken boy. As I walked away to my room to console my pain, I turned back to her and said, “You should never take a man’s dreams from him,” I turned back around and continued my walk.”

  “Oh Nathan, it is one of the saddest stories I think I have ever heard.” The emotion in her voice told me she is sincere.

  “When my mother saw how her words affected me, she told me we were going somewhere special. We took a picnic basket with dinner in it. We went to Balboa Park to a special place with a small stand of young trees. We laid out a blanket on the grass and looked up at the stars. She handed me some hot chocolate.” I poured Char some hot chocolate out of the thermos and handed her the cup. “My mother pointed up at a star.” I reached out and pointed to the same star. “That one right there. She told me in the days of the old wooden ships men would steer their ships by a star. If they followed the right star, they would always know their path is true. She told me it is my star. If I followed my star, I would always know my way is true.”

  I opened the cooler and pulled out a Diet Pepsi, opened it with the usual pop and slight hiss, and took a long swig. We sat there for a few minutes in the dark and silence. I reached over to take her hand. My heart raced with anticipation. Our fingers touched, and she held my hand without hesitation. She began to rub my hand with her thumb. I returned the gesture. I am in heaven. The height of the Ferris wheel is minuscule compared to the height my heart reached.

  After another few minutes, the ride started to move again and spun until we reached the ramp once more. We walked back to my car, holding hands. “Nathan, how did you arrange this? Entering the park after hours and getting to ride the Ferris wheel. Having them to turn off all the lights on queue was amazing. It must have cost a fortune.”

  “No, its only costs were the hot chocolate and the Diet Pepsi. I know a guy. He owed me a favor. He just paid me back.”

  “Still, it was wonderful.” It is getting late, so we headed to the freeway and back to her house. The freeway is quiet.

  A car raced passed us as we cruised down the road. When the car was about a quarter-mile ahead of us, I saw one of his tires shoot off to the side. Sparks flew as the car cut across all the lanes. It didn’t slow at all as it careened off the freeway and down an embankment. I pulled my car over. I handed Charlene my cell phone and told her to call 911 and to stay in the car. She started to get out anyway, “No, stay in the car. Wait here for the Fire Department and direct them to the accident.” I said it rather forcefully. There is no mistaking my tone. She needed to do as I say.

  “But I can help.”

  “You are helping.” I softened my voice quite a bit, “Besides, I don’t want you to see this. Please, Char.” She listened to me and didn’t follow. I took off for the accident.

  Ten days later, I am in my recliner in my apartment. “Star Trek, The Next Generation,” is in my VCR and playing back on my television. The same episode has repeatedly been playing for days. I put it on once I returned home. I have been doing nothing but watching it since that night.

  A knock came to my door. I ignored it. I had ignored everything since that night. I hadn’t eaten, washed, or even brushed my teeth. All I am doing was drinking my Diet Pepsis, but they ran out a long time ago. The knock came to my door again.

  “Nathan, it’s Charlene, are you home? I have been worried.” I heard a key being put in the door. My door opened slowly. I saw Charlene’s beautiful face when she stepped in. “Why haven’t you called or picked up your car?”

  “How did you find my apartment?”

  “It wasn’t hard. Your address is on your registration.” She turned on my lights and got a real look at me. “Oh, my God, Nathan! You look terrible. Are you sick?”

  “You look as beautiful as always, but yes, I guess you can say I’m a little sick.” I turned back to continue watching “Star Trek.”

  “I have brought your car back.”

  “You’re a fine woman, Char. You can put the keys on the table. Thank you. You shouldn’t have bothered, though. I won’t be using it anymore.”

  She walked over to the table and placed the keys there. She turned around and looked at me. “Nathan, what is wrong? Look at me.”

  I turned and looked up at her. “I don’t want to live anymore, but I am too cowardly to do the deed straight out. So, I have sat here. I am waiting to die.”

  “No wonder you look so haggard. What is this nonsense about wanting to die?” She walked over to the curtains and pulled them open. The sunlight is so blinding I had to close my eyes before my retinas burned away. She opened a window. “Let’s get some fresh air in here. This place, and you have an odor.” She walked over to me and brushed a few strands of hair away from my forehead. “Have you eaten lately?”

  “Nothing other than a few Diet Pepsis.”

  “What do you have here to eat?” She said this while walking back to the kitchen. I heard several cabinets open and finally, the refrigerator. “No… No... No… Well, this is still growing.” I heard the lid on my trash can open and something thump. “Well, this is going to have to do until you go shopping.” I heard the noises of Char busily preparing something.

  “Charlene, it’s kind of you, but you don’t have to trouble yourself.”

  “I don’t want to hear any nonsense. My boyfriend is not going to starve himself to death.” I heard more movement in the kitchen and some muttering under her breath.

  I must have misheard, but I thought she said, boyfriend. My heart feels lighter at the prospect. It sank again because I knew it couldn’t have been what she said. After a few more minutes she came walking over to me carrying a plate and a glass of water. All she said was, “Eat.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I ate like a starving man, which I guess I am. Eggs and toast are the only things on the plate. While I ate, I realized I needed fresher eggs. When I was done, Char went back to the kitchen and brought out my frying pan. It had more eggs in it. I ate them without question.

  As she walked back to the kitchen with the frying pan, she spoke to no one in particular, but I am sure it is aimed at me. “Not a green vegetable in the house. The only thing which came out of the ground in here is a potato, and it is still growing.” She started muttering some more, but I couldn’t hear exactly what she said. She came back out and stood above me. “Get moving. Brush those teeth and shave your stubble off. Wait. Now that I look at you, a beard kept close and trim, would look handsome on you, but for right now clean-shaven is the order of the day, mister.” I did as commanded. I am a robot, neither motivated nor thinking. I only did as I was told.

  When I was finished, I made my way back to my recliner and sat there. Charlene is doing some task in the kitchen. The dishes, I think. I wasn’t paying attention to it. I am in my world of the memory of the night of our final date and the crash. What I saw changed me terribly. I tried not to dwell, but it is no use. I am in an endless loop of despair.

  Charlene finished what she was doing and came in and stood above me again. “I thought you would shower too, but I smell you didn’t. You need to get in there and scrub, Boyfriend Mine.”

  “Charlene, what you are trying to do here is very kind. Have a seat.” She sat down o
n the couch. “You don’t understand. I don’t see the point to all of this. All you are doing is delaying the inevitable. I want to die. The pain is too great.”

  Charlene had a softness in her eyes, but her voice is firm. “What a bunch of self-serving crap. If you, in fact, wanted to kill yourself, we wouldn’t be talking. You would be dead. Some part of you wants to live even if you can’t see it.”

  “No. You don’t understand. That night on our way home, the man driving the car was injured. He was dying. His leg was mostly severed. I tried to put a tourniquet on it. I slowed the bleeding some, but I couldn’t stop it. He was wedged in the car, and I couldn’t pull him out. I was going to run back to my car to get the jack. I thought I could use it as a lever and free him enough to apply the tourniquet better. He reached out and grabbed my hand. He begged me not to go. He said he didn’t want to die alone. He begged me to stay. He begged me. He asked me to be his friend. The firefighters were taking so long, and he was scared. He told me he was afraid to die alone. He told me he had spent his whole life alone. In the fleeting moments, while his life was pouring out of his leg, we talked. I mostly listened. He told me he always believed there would be time for friends and family later. His realization of what is most important was too late. It came to him there in the car with his life flowing away. I saw it in his eyes. He knew he was fading. I told him the rescue team would be there soon. I told him to hang on.”

  I took the glass of water Char had brought me with my eggs and downed it. I handed the glass back to Charlene. “Can I have some more, please?” Charlene took the glass, filled it with water, and returned it to me. I downed it too. I paused a moment. “He died, holding my hand in the ambulance. I can still see the blood, his blood, on my hands. My God, I can’t wash it off. I wash and wash my hands, but I still see it.”

  Char looked at my hands, “Nathan; there is no blood on these hands. You did the right thing. You were strong. I don’t believe I would have been able to stay with him.”