Wash Ashores

by Anne Fall

  Vivian began her flight toward the front entrance. Without thinking, Sylvia stood up and ran after her until she was able to grab Vivian by the arm, shaking it furiously like a child hanging onto their mother.

  "You'll never be able to stop him, wait, the men will come." As Sylvia spoke, Vivian twisted her arm out of Sylvia's grasp and ran headlong out the front door. A photographer, standing in the door, looked alarmed and began fidgeting with his camera.

  As she stood immobile, Catherine and Eric passed her hastening toward the front lawn. Following their lead, Sylvia hurried behind them to the scene that waited. Vivian was hitting Adam in the chest with her fists.

  "Damn you! Damn you! What have you done? What have you done?" The man was nowhere to be found.

  "What have I done? What did you do? Damn you, Viv!"

  "I never loved you. I've never loved you. You, you— monster!" The words flying out of her mouth appeared to be moving without her control. Her hair was wild in curls. "I never even slept with him!" Adam grabbed her wrists and held them furiously despite the possessed wriggling of her body to try and unleash them.

  "Shut up, Vivian! Just shut up!" Eric and Catherine had reached them by then, and Catherine put her arms around Vivian's waist, trying to pull her away while Adam continued to hold her wrists.

  "I will never shut up again. I am tired of shutting up. That baby was yours, Adam! You fool, you fool." Pained, Adam released her. The photographer stood on the porch, taking pictures of the whole scene. In what seemed like only two strides, Adam reached him, tore the camera out of his hands, and threw it to the porch floor where it shattered like a piece of glass. Catherine was holding Vivian in her arms while she wept. They all heard the sound of the sirens approaching the house.

  The guests milled out of the house and disappeared in their expensive cars back to their lives as if they had never been there. Ella, waving wildly to Sylvia, was being pulled away by her mother's iron grip on her willowy arm. Surprisingly, the police did very little other than question them. The photographer started to make a scene about the camera, but Adam opened his wallet and threw some money at him. Eventually, they shook hands with the police officers, and it was handled. It was called a misunderstanding.

  Sylvia could not shake the image of the bride crying in the doorway, her groom's arms around her. The poor girl, Sylvia thought. The poor thing. What a day this must have been for her. The cake wasn't even cut. Would she even get to dance?

  They left shortly after without Adam. He had stormed off after the police went. At home, Catherine spent the night in Vivian's bedroom, and Adam was absent for the remainder of the evening. Sylvia, for her part, locked the door to her bedroom and collapsed on her bed. No one thought of her that night.

  CHAPTER 17

  In the morning, Sylvia was scared to leave her bedroom. Who knew what was happening downstairs? For the brunch hour, she finally left the solitude of her bedroom driven by thirst and hunger. She heard voices coming from the dining room, and Sylvia could barely believe it, but there was laughter.

  "I know, and we've found the most beautiful frames downtown for the paintings. Wait until you see them framed, Vivian, they are magnificent."

  "I'm sure they are." When Sylvia appeared in the doorway, the four of them were seated at breakfast as if the night before had never happened. Adam looked robust and cleansed. He was freshly shaved and smelled of cologne. Vivian, while a little pale, was back to her usual brilliance in her silk morning robe. Catherine, her face lit by an inner pleasure, held Eric's hand in hers, stroking his fingertips.

  "It will be a grand day, a grand magical day for you, my darling." For his part, Eric looked the most changed by the night before. His face was drawn tightly, and Sylvia realized he had lost weight while she had been away.

  "Good morning, Sylvia." Vivian's voice sailed across the expanse of the room.

  "Good morning, Aunt Vivian." She took her seat in a quiet movement, meeting no eyes.

  "Sylvia, you will come to the art show, won't you? I think there's a painting or two there your aunt and uncle will like."

  "Of course." When Sylvia replied, she could feel Eric watching her face, searching for something. Her heart pounded.

  "I can't wait to see them. I love paintings of people we know, especially our Sylvia." Vivian smiled, happy.

  "Before we go any further, I think it's best that I apologize for my behavior last night." Adam's voice rang out in the room like a pastor at the pulpit. "I know I lost my temper, but I love you, Vivian. I could not live without you in my life." He raised his glass toward her. "To Vivian, the light of my life." They all raised their glasses after a hesitant moment. Standing, Adam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black box. He brought it to Vivian's side, and she opened it with a snap. She held it out for the rest of them to look at it—pear-shaped earrings that looked like a frozen fruit, heartless and lifeless. Vivian immediately began taking off her earrings and replacing them with the new.

  "I was going to save them for Christmas, but I thought I should show my appreciation now."

  "They're beautiful, Adam. Thank you. Oh, let me go find a mirror so I can see." Vivian rushed out of the room without letting them fully see her face. Sylvia saw her hands though. They were shaking.

  Sylvia sat silent throughout the rest of the meal. Who were these people, who took life and shook it in their hands, and then acted like no one had been harmed? They seemed so blameless.

  That afternoon, Ella met Sylvia on the beach in front of the Fannings’ home. She wore a fuchsia pink bathing suit with ruching on the bodice. Her broad straw hat made her look like a movie star, and she had a pair of oversized sunglasses to match.

  "It's a scandal, a huge scandal. I don't know how they'll live it down. Everyone is talking about it but not talking about it. I can't believe it. Aren't you a little scared to be here?" Reeking of excitement from last night’s scandal, Ella's presence did not comfort Sylvia.

  "No, I'm not scared." Her voice sounded wan and weak in her mind.

  "Is Adam home? I'm a little scared myself. I had to lie to my mother, tell her that I was going downtown to buy a hat. I have to leave early to find one to make sure I don't go home without one. Remember the one I liked, you know the one with the blue ribbon? It was outrageously expensive…"

  Sylvia listened to her prattle on about things that could not possibly mean anything compared to what had happened last night. Other than to join in the collective horror at what had happened, no one was touched by the events. They floated away from the surface of the mind like a piece of seaweed. What about the man from the greenhouse?

  "But, if you had seen the dress, Sylvia, it would just be a perfect match for the hat. You should come; it'd cheer you up. You look so old, Sylvia. You could be my mother."

  "I'm sorry, I don't mean to. I'm just tired."

  "I expect you didn't sleep much last night. I would've brought you home with me, but they practically dragged me out of here. God, did you see that photographer's face when Adam broke that camera? Oh, my God. I've never seen anyone so shocked." Ella threw back her head and laughed wickedly. "He must be very strong, you know. I bet he could break my neck with his bare hands." Ella shivered with something close to pleasure at the idea.

  "I'm sure he could." Sylvia’s voice sounded too deadpan, and she rolled over on her towel to face Ella. "You know, they're already happy and acting like nothing happened."

  "That doesn't surprise me." Ella nodded her head sagely. "When my parents fight, it's like they're trying to take the house down with them. The next morning, they're more in love than the day before. It doesn't really make sense, does it?"

  "No." Sylvia sifted her fingers through the sand, trying to find a seashell without thinking about what she was doing.

  "Who knows? I swear I'll never marry. They're all mad for getting married." Settling herself in a reclined position, Ella turned her face toward the sun. "I think I want to get tanned, dark and rich and tann
ed. If only I didn't have these freckles. Stephen Dunn told me my freckles were like stars at a party last week. I wish you could have seen how sweet he looked. I think he's going to ask to take me to the party next week. Maybe I'll have a summer romance like you, Sylvia."

  "Maybe." Sylvia released the sand from her fingers, and it fell away.

  The two of them left the beach behind them and dusted off the sand. Ella's driver had waited for her, and he quickly tossed away a cigarette and opened the car door for her.

  "I'll see you soon, Sylvia. Be careful. You don't know what that man is capable of." Ella's eyes glittered the warning, and it no longer surprised Sylvia to notice that Ella was pleased with the idea of her uncle being a maniac.

  "I will. See you soon!"

  Sylvia walked away from the car with a wave, and she disappeared upstairs into her bedroom. She began picking out clothes for her night with David. They had made plans to go see a small concert on the beach that night. She selected a summer halter dress with long ribbons that hung down the back. Looking through her drawers, she found a pair of silk pantyhose Vivian had bought her. She had no sense of disaster pending.

  There was a knock on her bedroom door, and Sylvia startled, folding the stockings and slipping them under the dress. When she opened the door, Vivian stood there with a brilliant smile on her face. She placed her hands on Sylvia's shoulders and sighed with some drama.

  "What is it, Aunt Vivian?"

  "I have some news, bittersweet news, but I think you'll be happy. Come downstairs. There's someone on the phone who wants to speak with you." She tucked Sylvia's arm under hers and pulled her down the staircase and into the library.

  "The phone is off the hook on the desk. It's your mother. I'll give you some privacy." After Vivian had closed the enormous library doors, Sylvia's breathing began to come rapidly. Walking toward the desk, her footsteps felt like they were dragging, as if she was walking in the sand on the beach. When she sat down, she held the phone in her hand for a minute before bringing it to her ear.

  "Hello?" Her voice was uncertain, frightened.

  "Sylvia, darling!" Her mother's voice trembled.

  "Mama, what's happened? Are you hurt?"

  "No, no, sweet girl. I'm happy, so happy I can barely breathe." The accented tones of her mother's voice brought her mixed emotions of pleasure, homesickness, and sadness.

  "What's happened? Tell me." Sylvia's hands were numbed, and she repeatedly squeezed the phone to make sure she had a firm grip on it.

  "Your father has come home. We're not divorcing. It's all over, Sylvia. You can come back home to me!" Exultation overflowed from her voice with triumph, and she did not hear Sylvia's silence. "We're already booking tickets for your plane home. We have it all planned out. It's going to be another week, but after that darling, you can come home! We'll be happy again. It will be just as it was, as if this whole thing had never happened. Sylvia? Are you there?"

  "Come home?" It was impossible to digest, the things her mother was saying.

  "Yes, yes! You poor girl, you're in shock. Yes, you can come home to me. Do you understand, sweetheart?"

  "Yes, I understand." The clock on the mantel in the library ticked louder and louder until she was forced to look closely at it, to make sure it was not moving closer to her. It remained in its usual place, watching.

  "Oh, I can't expect you to let this sink in immediately, but Sylvia, it's going to all be the same, back to just the way we were before this awful summer."

  "When, Mama? When am I coming home?" The sickness in her stomach rose to her throat, and she was choking on it.

  "In a week, Sylvia, Sunday, darling: just one week, and you'll be home. You'll have to do the flight alone again, but you can do it. You did it once. We'll pick you up at the airport, your father and I."

  "I am so happy, Mama." Tears poured down Sylvia's face, and she covered her mouth with her hand to try and repress the sounds that were forming. David's face flashed in front of her, along with Eric's and the ocean and the sea and all their desperation flailing like the arms of a drowning woman. Her mother did not see it. She did not see that it could never be the same.

  "I know you are. I am so sorry we put you through this. It will never happen again. You come home to me, darling. Start your packing. I love you, Sylvia. I have to go; your father needs help with his unpacking. Oh, I love you."

  "I love you, too, Mama."

  "Goodbye, Sylvia, goodbye!" Her mother's voice glided away. It was too much. It besieged her, and Sylvia rubbed her throat in long even strokes, trying to breathe normally.

  By the time Sylvia left the library, she had viciously wiped away her tears until the skin under her eyes was almost raw. She had calmed, because she had carefully formed a plan in her mind. Vivian stood across the hall, straightening a table that had been immaculately arranged before she touched it. She met Sylvia's eyes with a loving smile.

  "Oh, of course you are sad to leave us. We'll be sad to have you go, but it will be wonderful to have your mother and father together again, won't it?" Vivian approached her and lifted a slender delicate hand to smooth the hair away from Sylvia's face.

  "Of course, Aunt Vivian." She kept her eyes down, terrified Vivian would see the truth of her plan there.

  "Now, go wash your face. You'll feel better then. Shall we go out tonight? Would that make you feel better?"

  "Oh no, not tonight, Aunt Vivian. I'm going to spend the night with Ella. I'm going to miss her a lot." Her voice did not tremble, only her hands which were made frantic with the need to begin preparing for her plan.

  "All right, I suppose we have the art show. You'll be able to have that as your last event before your trip home. It's the night before you leave, Saturday."

  "I'd like that." Sylvia moved away from her aunt, unable to lean in for the hug she knew was coming.

  "Don't worry, Sylvia. There's always next summer. You're always welcome here." Vivian watched her run up the staircase with concerns that she could not explain to herself or pinpoint. The child should be happier, she thought to herself. The reflection drifted away, and she returned to the kitchen and began to help Hanna prepare lunch.

  Upstairs, Sylvia packed recklessly. Her hands shook. “Oh, what will I need and what will I leave?” The thoughts churned in her mind. “I'll take everything. I'll pack everything.” She pulled her suitcase out from under the bed and began stuffing her clothes inside it. She opened and closed the drawers to her bureau with loud crashing noises. The doll that her mother had packed for her appeared, forgotten and forlorn in the back of the bottom drawer. The sight of it reduced her to tears, and it took her a long time to recover. She packed the doll away later, and began to come to herself again. The suitcase was nearly impossible to close. She had so much more now than when she first came here. Finding the change purse where she carried the money her mother had sent with her, she found that she had a little more than fifty dollars left. Sylvia put her suitcase next to her bedroom door and lay down on the bed. She fell asleep for a while, and when she woke, the afternoon sun poured in through her window like liquid gold.

  Sylvia had a quick wash and changed her clothes. In her earlier frustration, she had packed the clothes she planned to wear that night. Opening the suitcase, she stripped off her morning clothes and folded them, placing them inside the suitcase. Slowly moving through the rumpled piles, Sylvia found the dress she wanted and sealed up the suitcase again. David was supposed to pick her up at the end of the driveway at five o'clock, and it was time to leave. She thought about bringing the suitcase with her, but she knew that David would have the motorcycle. She would have to come back for it with a cab that night. It would be easy.

  Walking away from the house and toward the road, Sylvia paused and turned around to look at its expanse. It looked the same as that first day she had seen it. The greenhouse at the back looked suffocating as if some of the plants had given up. She searched for some change in it, but there was nothing but the same stoic façade
and blankness. The sound of the seagulls on the beach called out a warning, and Sylvia watched them fly overhead in small circles, like vultures.

  David came shortly afterwards, and she climbed behind him with relief. She kissed the back of his neck and then held on. She tried to study him, the hair that curled just above the nape of his neck, the sharp angle of his jaw, and the sweet feminine curve of his earlobes. She held onto his arms above his elbows. She could feel the strain of the muscles underneath. He had such archer's arms.

  They drove toward the beach. People from all over town were walking to the concert. Traffic was backed up, but David steered the motorcycle to the side of the road and drove past the cars over the jostling gravel. He easily found a place to park the motorcycle between two cars, and when it stopped, they both got off the bike. Slowing him, Sylvia touched his arm.

  "Let's go somewhere else." Her voice pleaded. People walking past them noticed the pair this time, and men and women regarded them with eyes that slid over quickly.

  "Sure, anywhere. Where do you want to go?"

  "Back to the pond. Let's go back to the pond." Unable to stand the idea of spending their limited time at the concert, Sylvia wanted to get away, back to the place where there were no eyes.

  "Let's go." They rode closer to the pond in the deepening twilight. Again, the last of the families were packing up their cars when Sylvia and David arrived. She smiled shyly at a dancing little boy carrying a beach ball that was almost the same size as him. The little boy smiled back and watched Sylvia long after she had stopped.