“I love you, too.”
“Then marry me,” he blurted.
Carol caught her breath, unsure if she had actually heard him propose. “What?”
He shook his head. “I know I’m doing this all wrong. I should have a ring and I should have called your father and asked his permission, and I probably should have told Mom, but I just…I just can’t help myself. Marry me, Carol.”
She pushed him away, suddenly unable to breathe. He let her get off the couch without protest, watching with confused eyes as she gathered her clothes and pulled them on.
“Carol?”
“I can’t marry you, Daniel. I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t marry me?” He jumped to his feet. “You love me.”
“Well, yes, I love you but I…” She struggled to find the right words, but had to settle for the truth. “I don’t want to marry anybody. We don’t have to get married to be together, Daniel.”
“I want to marry you and take you home and start a family,” he said slowly.
Carol held up her hands, sudden fear chasing away the last memories of their lovemaking. “Take me home? You mean to Mountain Grove? Daniel, I’m never going back there. That’s not my home. San Francisco is my home now.”
“But you just said you wanted us to be together,” he pointed out, pulling on his pants.
“I do. Here. We can have a whole new life together, right here. You’ll see…”
Daniel shook his head. “I can’t stay here, Carol. I have to get back to my mother, back to our land. I have a life there. I can’t just abandon it.”
“But you want me to abandon my life here?” she demanded, tears stinging her eyes. She had never imagined that things would happen this way. In her fantasies, Daniel was always happy to live her life, her way, as long as they were together. “My God, Daniel, I’ve worked so hard to pull this all together. I’m starting college in the fall. I’m going to Berkeley! And you want me to give that up?”
“I don’t want you to give anything up, Carol.”
She had been ready for a fight, willing to give it to him with everything she had, but his reasonable words and calm voice deflated her. “Then what do you want from me?”
He calmly buttoned his shirt. There didn’t seem to be enough air in the room for both of them. Carol was covered, but she felt naked. Wrapping her arms around herself, she asked again, “What do you want from me?”
“I just want to have a life with you, Carol. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I don’t want you to give up school. I don’t want to fight with you.” He adjusted his hat over his short-cropped hair, a shadow falling over his eyes.
“Are you leaving?”
“I’m catching the bus to Boise tomorrow morning.”
“Where will you sleep tonight?” she asked, desperate to keep him there. Maybe if he stayed the night, she could explain why she wanted to stay in San Francisco, why she needed him to stay with her.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve been through worse than this city can offer.” He picked up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder.
“Daniel, you don’t need to leave right now. Look, we can talk about this, can’t we?”
He shook his head.
“So it’s that easy to walk away from me? After what we just shared, you’re going to walk out the door?” she asked, certain she misunderstood the situation.
“Carol, I’ve been waiting a long time to see you. I’m sorry. I can’t stay here with you if you won’t marry me, and my mother—”
“Your mother is an adult!” she exploded, her temper finally reaching the surface. “She doesn’t need you to take care of her every single day. She survived just fine while you were in Korea.”
“I promised her when I shipped out that I wouldn’t leave her up there alone. It’s our home, and she needs my help.”
“Fine. I hope you’re very happy up there, isolated away from the world. What are you going to do? Hide up there for the rest of your life? There’s so much to see…so much to do…”
“I’ve seen enough, thank you.” He crossed the small room to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. “Our lives are going different directions right now. That’s all.”
“You’re just a coward.”
His shoulders stiffened. Carol straightened, certain she would get her fight now. What made him think he could just walk out of here, out of her life, without a battle?
“If you ever need anything, you know where to find me,” he said as he opened the door.
“I won’t need you,” she shouted at his back as he walked out of the apartment. “I won’t need you.”
Carol sank onto the couch, burying her face in her hands. She stared at the darkness behind her eyes, her heart and body aching.
“Who was that?” Rodney asked, his voice light.
Carol looked up, surprised to see him. “When did you get here? I thought I told you not to come back tonight.”
“I forgot. Look, there’s a meeting tonight at Beck’s.”
Carol didn’t look up. “I’m not interested.”
“Suit yourself, but I think you’ll really like it. I mean, it’s right up your alley. You’re always talking about changing…hey, what’s wrong with you?”
Carol looked up at her friend, wiping her eyes. “Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. Who was that? Was that Daniel?” he asked, sitting beside her on the couch.
“It was.”
“Did you guys have a fight?”
Carol liked Rodney. He was a good friend and a decent roommate. He didn’t work, but always had money. He always knew where the best parties were, where the best meetings were. He knew everybody in the city, but nobody seemed to see him. Like a ghost, he slipped through the streets and alleys, building his connections, making introductions and gathering favors, but never attracting attention. She liked him well enough, but she didn’t want to try to talk about Daniel.
“Did he want to marry you?” he asked.
Carol blinked. “How did you know?”
“I don’t know what else could cause such a big fight.” He looked around the room. “At least you slept together first.”
She hit his arm. “How did you know?”
“I just know these things. So I guess you’re not getting married?”
“He wants to live out in the middle of nowhere for the rest of his life, like we’re still a part of the nineteenth century or something. Can you imagine me, barefoot, pregnant, and living in a cabin? You know, he doesn’t even have running water or a bathroom! I don’t know what the hell he was thinking.” Carol brushed the hair from her eyes, acting more annoyed and shocked than she really felt.
“Maybe he was just thinking that he loved you,” Rodney suggested.
“If he loved me, he wouldn’t want to force me to live under a rock.”
“Well, I’m just thankful he didn’t knock you out and drag you back to Idaho by the hair,” Rodney said, standing up. “Look, maybe the meeting will take your mind off things.”
“Maybe,” she muttered, but didn’t believe it.
She wanted to chase down Daniel and beg him not to leave her there alone. But, she couldn’t do that. She had made her decision when she packed her bags and left Mountain Grove behind. She had made her decision when she cut herself off from her father and her family in order to make it on her own. She had made her decision when she enrolled in UC Berkeley.
“It’ll be better than sitting around here,” Carol added.
“You bet.”
“I’ll meet you downstairs. Just let me get cleaned up and changed.”
“Sure thing.”
Carol locked herself in the bathroom, resting her head against the door. She’d write Daniel and apologize. She hadn’t meant to call him a coward, or to shout at him. She’d write, he’d write back, and they’d be friends again. They needed to be friends again, because she could no long
er imagine her life without his presence.
She’d write him as soon as she returned from Rodney’s meeting that night. The letter would be in the mail by morning.
Chapter 3
Mountain Grove, Idaho
1955
Daniel snuck into the back of the church, shutting the door against a swirl of icy snow. Bradford Thorn stood at his podium, his face a bright shade of red, his voice booming. His mother Patricia sat in the front row, watching him with rapt eyes. Daniel settled on the edge of the last pew, smiling at old Mr. Brown, who deigned only to glare at him.
The wind howled outside, but Bradford’s voice rose above the gusts, echoing off the ceiling. The acoustics in the old church would have been perfect for a choir. Too bad it had been disbanded the year before in a fit of frustration and a surprisingly bloody fistfight.
“Brothers and Sisters, let us bow our heads and pray now…”
Daniel rested his chin against his chest, his numb fingers deep in his pockets. He didn’t hear the prayer, but he didn’t have to concentrate to know what Bradford asked of God. Of course, the one thing Bradford wanted was the one thing he would never pray for. At least, not in public, in front of the entire population of Mountain Grove.
Finally, a chorus of “amens” rose in the air as people pushed themselves to their feet. Daniel watched them sway, imagining their feet must have been asleep, their toes covered in pricks of pain. His mother began playing the piano as everybody moved toward the door, their words puffs of white air in front of their mouths.
“Daniel!” Bradford exclaimed, “I didn’t think you’d be home until tomorrow.”
“No, I heard I had a letter,” Daniel said, looking pointedly at Bradford’s jacket pocket. “I thought I’d try to beat the snow up the mountain.”
The wind picked up outside. “It sounds like you just made it.”
“The letter?”
The light piano music stopped as Patricia pulled on a second pair of gloves. Bradford frowned, patting his pockets. “I don’t believe I have it on me.”
Daniel took a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm. He didn’t want to betray his excitement, and even fear, to Bradford, but he wouldn’t be able to continue this charade either. He had no doubt that Bradford had the letter in his pocket, waiting to be opened, read, and read again.
“I think you might. Why don’t you check your other pockets,” Daniel suggested with a smile.
Instead of answering, Bradford turned to Mr. Brown, holding out his hand. “Brother Brown, I was so happy to see you could join us today.”
“My knees aren’t feeling too poorly today. There needs to be something done about the tardiness. If I can make it on time, these young kids should, too.” He shook his head with infinite sadness. “Kids these days have no respect.”
Despite Mr. Brown’s pointed words and eyes, Daniel barely noticed him. He stepped between the two men, the smile now frozen to his face. Patricia continued playing. A sharp wind whistled through the chapel as somebody pushed open the door.
“Bradford. Where’s my letter?”
“It was delivered to me,” he said, almost desperately.
“But it’s addressed to me, isn’t it?” Daniel knew that under normal circumstances, Bradford would never consider violating somebody’s trust by hiding and reading their mail, but this wasn’t a normal circumstance. The postmaster often left the entire sack of mail with the pastor, trusting him to pass out the letters to the appropriate recipients.
“She’s my little girl,” Bradford said, his voice low. “I have a right to know what she’s doing. Where she is.”
Daniel held out his hand. “I’ll tell you anything I can, but I need to read the letter, Bradford.”
His mother, noticing the growing tension between the two men, approached now. The church was oddly bereft without the music. “What’s going on here, Daniel? I thought you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.”
“Ken told me he dropped a letter off for me this afternoon. He told me he would have held onto it if he knew I was in the city.” Daniel paused before adding, “He said it was from San Francisco.”
Patricia’s eyes widened. “Is it from Carol?”
Bradford sighed, a beaten man. He pulled the battered envelope from inside his jacket, pushing it into Daniel’s hands without comment. Daniel tore into the paper, his fingers useless, his hands tingling. A single sheet fell out and Carol’s tightly scrawled handwriting took up only half the page.
Daniel,
I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. I’ve been trying to write this letter for the past three days, but I can’t put it off anymore. I’ve been arrested. The charges are serious, Daniel. I don’t want to talk about it here. Please come and help. Please. I don’t know what to do. I’m very scared. This could be my life.
Carol
Daniel reread the letter several times, the words dancing around the page in an elaborate ballet. Carol was in serious trouble? What could have happened? He imagined her in a disgusting cell, her face and hair filthy, her small frame overwhelmed by the thugs and monsters that surrounded her.
“Where is she?” Bradford asked.
Daniel didn’t know what to say. He looked helplessly to his mother. She read his face, her own face contorting with alarm. “Where is she?” his mother whispered.
Daniel stuffed the letter into his jacket. “She needs me. I’ve got to go to her.”
“Needs you? Is she in some sort of trouble? Daniel, talk to me. I’m her father, I have the right to know.” His eyes flashed, and a vein stood out on his temple.
“She’s…” Daniel stopped himself. If Carol wanted Bradford to know she was in jail, she would have sent the news to him herself. “She’s fine. She just wants me to…visit. Now.”
“Now? You’re leaving now?” Patricia asked, her voice rising. “You can’t leave in this storm.”
Daniel curled his fist around the letter, holding on to it like a lifeline. “If I leave tonight, I can catch the bus in the morning and be in California in less than two days.”
Patricia studied his face for several seconds before nodding. “Let’s go home, and I’ll help you get your bag together.”
Daniel opened his mouth to protest, preferring to just get on the road, but he recognized the wisdom in packing some clothes, food, and maybe even dipping into what little savings he had. Carol said she was in jail—he might need extra money to bail her out.
“Thanks, Mom.”
Bradford turned his back to them, not even acknowledging Patricia’s parting words. Daniel felt a tug of sympathy for the older man. Carol’s silence had been difficult to tolerate for Daniel, but he couldn’t imagine the pain Bradford experienced.
“She’s fine,” Daniel repeated, like it meant anything.
Patricia took his arm, guiding him out of the church. Once they reached the quiet warmth of their home, she cut right to the point. “What kind of trouble is that girl in?”
“You’re not going to tell anybody, right?”
“If you think that’s best.”
“Carol is in jail.” Daniel held up his hands as his mother’s eyes filled with questions. “I don’t know why. She only said the charges are serious. I’m the only one who can help, or that’s what she claims.”
“Her father could help.”
“If she wanted his help, she would have asked him. Now, are you going to help me get ready?”
“Of course I am. Go get a bag packed, I’ll get some food together for you. And Daniel?”
“Yeah?”
“There’s a jar in the smokehouse—”
“Mom, no.”
“Take it. You’re going to need that money, if she’s in trouble.”
Daniel cradled his mother’s hand in his palm. “Mom, I can’t take your money. I have some of my own.”
“Take it all. If you don’t need it, great. If you do, well, I guess you’ll pay it back.”
Daniel nodded, understanding that it
would be pointless to argue. In less than fifteen minutes, he stood by the front door, bundled in his thickest coat, with a small bag at his feet. Patricia handed him another large bag.
“You bring that girl home. She doesn’t belong in San Francisco, away from her father.”
“I’m going to help her, Mom. Anyway I can.”
“Don’t let her use you, Daniel. Don’t let yourself be hurt.”
He nodded. “I love her. I need to help her.”
“I know. But she’s always going to come running to you. You know that.”
Daniel smiled. “I hope she does.”
* * * *
Carol looked awful. Her full, blonde curls had been hacked off, leaving a crown of straw-colored knots on the top of her head. Her complexion, always light, looked yellow in the poor conditions, but her eyes, though sunken, still sparkled. Her clothes were ratty and filthy, caked with dirt. All in all, she looked more like a refugee than a prisoner in the San Francisco County Jail.
She stood when she saw Daniel, rushing to the bars. “Daniel. You came.” Her thin fingers snuck out, reaching for his.
“Of course. As soon as I got the letter. How long have you been here?”
“Three months.”
“On what charges?” he asked, alarmed.
She shrugged, her voice as pallid as her face. “I don’t know.”
“You haven’t been arraigned yet? They’ve just been holding you here? They can’t do that! Who’s in charge here?” Daniel turned to the guard who had escorted him to Carol’s cell. “Who do I need to talk to about this?”
The guard looked at him blankly. “About what?”
“About getting her out of here.” Her fingers were cold like thin icicles against his skin, but he didn’t pull away from her. “Who do I need to speak to?”
“Oh.” The guard smiled. He looked pleasant, but vacant. “I guess that’d be Sergeant Wilkes.”
“Well, take me to him.”
Engaging Carol Page 4