“Listen, I’d love to continue our conversation.” Peter put his hands in his pockets, fighting the urge to touch her. “Is there any way we can meet again this afternoon? I can pick you up and take you to dinner. I want to thank you for giving up your time today to talk to me.”
“I’m afraid I have plans—”
“I understand—” He looked away.
“No, it’s with my parents. I could meet you for coffee after school if that works? There’s a coffee shop down the block. I can give you about an hour.”
He paused, trying to control the excitement in his voice. “That would be fantastic. I can’t tell you how happy that would make me.”
“I’ll see you around three then. Great meeting you.”
“It’s been great meeting you too, Maddy.”
She stopped in her steps. “What did you call me?”
“Forgive me. Madeline.”
She bowed her head for a moment, and he saw the line of her cheek he knew so well. She looked up and smiled quickly. “I haven’t been called that in a long time. I used to love being called that.” She waved and walked on, cane tapping, back down the brick path to the Yates Building, as her students gathered around her and the girls reached to hold her hands.
Peter turned toward his car, and his steps became longer and faster until he could hardly contain himself. He slid behind the steering wheel and hunched forward, his face buried in his hands. His shoulders shook as he leaned into the hard curve of the wheel, his hands filling with tears. He jumped when Henry knocked on the window.
“I didn’t mean to bother you, Mr. Michaels. I just don’t want you leaving without your ID.”
“Thank you. I was a bit overwhelmed.” Peter wiped his face.
“That place will do it to you. They’re wonderful kids. The funny thing is they seem just fine. I get a little jealous myself. They appear happier for some reason, less anxious than normal kids. Only God knows why, right? You go and have a good day.”
“Thank you for your help.” Peter looked up gratefully.
“Anytime, Mr. Michaels.”
Henry walked back to the gatehouse, as Peter started the car and put his ID in his wallet. It wasn’t until he’d pulled away from the curb that he realized Henry had called him by his real name.
Chapter 12
Humbled
1965
The beach was deserted except for Madeline and Peter naked and intertwined, wrapped in towels, asleep by the water’s edge. As the sun began to set and the tide rolled out, he awoke to find her on his chest.
Her eyes opened, and she looked up at him. “Hey, you. Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I didn’t want to bother you. You looked so peaceful,” he said softly.
She turned to glance at the ocean and realized she was naked. He laughed as she wrestled with the towel and dug for her clothing beneath it.
“Stop laughing.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Help me find my bottom.”
He pulled it out from behind his back. She gave him a sinister look and reached for it, and when he pulled his hand back she exposed a breast. She smacked his arm, and he released the bikini over her face.
She laughed and threw sand on his chest. “I’m not afraid of you.”
He laughed out loud as she put her bathing suit on under the towel, and after she was dressed he pulled her to him again, the two sitting quietly to watch the moon rise. He didn’t want to break the silence. It might have been a mistake to think she had been ready to surrender her innocence to him that afternoon. He was almost overwhelmed at the thought, his breathing quick.
She turned and took his face in her hands. “Peter.” She kissed his neck. “I know now I belong to you. Every part of me, inside and out, responds to your voice, to your touch. It’s as though we’re two halves of the same soul. I can’t put it into words.”
He could hardly control his body. His blood pulsated every time she touched him. “I was just about to leave the sailboat that day when I first saw you, Maddy. If I hadn’t stopped to watch the sunset, you and I might have never met. It’s as though you were supposed to drop all your things at that very moment. Those seconds were meant to happen so this could. I never thought I believed in fate or destiny until I met you.”
“I don’t know how much is planned and written.” She rested her head with its soft brown hair on his shoulder. “All I know is when I’m with you I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”
Their hands stroked one another’s until the stillness overcame him. “Are you okay? I mean, was it okay for you? I didn’t hurt you, did I? Please tell me if I did. I’m so worried that I might have and you aren’t telling me.”
“Don’t worry about me, Peter. You know what it meant to me.”
“I don’t want to ruin this. I’ve never felt like this in my life, and if I thought that I might lose this, lose you—I don’t know what I would do.”
He stood then and extended his hands to her, and she took them and pulled herself up. He held her close and kissed her again. The sky was dark with twinkling stars, and the moon shone bright against the purple canvas, directly above where they stood on the sand.
He pointed. “See the moon, Maddy?”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Without it, the sky would be nothing but an endless mass. Without the moon, the sky couldn’t show its constellations, midnight would lose its mystique and beauty.”
“I never thought—”
He put his fingers to her lips. “I love you like midnight loves the moon, Maddy.”
She put her hands to his face and kissed him, her lips salty from the water, cold on his, and she rubbed her hands on his arms, feeling every muscle. “I love you so much it hurts.”
“I’m never going to be without you, Maddy.”
“Never,” she promised. “Ever again.”
1985
Late afternoon sunshine slanted through the trees as Peter stepped out of his car and walked around the school gate toward the street corner. There was no sign of Henry at the gatehouse. Peter crossed the street to the coffee shop, and as he came around the parked cars he saw Maddy already standing with a grey and black German shepherd by her side. He called out to her.
“Bill?”
Peter whirled quickly and then remembered. “Oh. Yes. Madeline, it’s me.”
“I smelled you coming.”
“Is that bad?” He laughed.
“I like it.” She smiled, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses. “I decided to wait outside for you. My dog was getting a bit restless.”
“What’s his name?” Peter bent to put out his hand.
“This is Boxer. Boxer, this is Bill.” She patted Boxer’s head. “Funny story how he’s lived up to his name—a man tried to take my purse one day, and Boxer leaped onto his hind legs and knocked him to the ground.”
“Oh, God!” Peter gasped. “Were you all right? Did anything happen?”
“I was fine, thanks to him. These dogs are crucial to us. They work as our eyes and protection. They put their lives on the line for us.”
“Secret Service?”
She laughed. “Even better.”
“I’ll have to get on his good side. May I pet him?”
“Sure. Boxer.” She spoke to the dog. “It’s okay, boy. He’s a friend.”
As soon as she said ‘friend,’ Boxer stood and allowed Peter to rub his head. Peter smiled when he straightened and Boxer led Maddy toward the sidewalk tables outside the coffee shop, threading between them to an empty seat near a flowerbox spilling the last of the season’s alyssum.
“Do you mind going in for me?” Maddy sat and reached to sling her school bag over the back of her chair. “Boxer’s a bit intimidating in close quarters.”
“Of course not. What would you li
ke?”
“I’d love a decaf with half-and-half, please.”
“Decaf, eh? Anything else—a cookie or pastry?”
“Just the coffee, please. Wait. Let me give you money.”
“Absolutely not. This is on me. Anything for him?” Peter made a gesture toward Boxer.
“Boston’s youngest living gentleman.” Maddy smiled.
“What?” Peter caught his breath.
“Nothing. A very old joke I had once with my—with a very dear friend. I have something for Boxer in my bag, thanks.” She was digging deep into her school bag and giving treats to Boxer as Peter stepped inside the coffee shop.
Peter waited in line, watching Maddy’s head through an angle of the window as she bent and spoke to the dog, then straightened again. A woman by the bar turned, flashing a glance like Tara’s, and Peter realized it was the first moment since he’d left home that he’d even thought of her.
Five minutes later, he was walking out the door backward, coffee drinks in both hands, and he saw Maddy waiting with her head high, taking in the warm autumn breeze. Her sunglasses made her cheeks appear longer and even youthful, and strands of golden-brown hair made their way into her face in the shining light.
He crossed to her and set the coffee on the table. “Here we go.” He moved her cup cautiously toward her hand.
“Thank you so much. This is how I treat myself. I can live a day or two without chocolate—or without food, in fact—but don’t give me a day without my coffee, or things might get ugly.”
Peter sat down, careful not to disturb the little table. “I’m quite the coffee addict, myself. I read an article about a small chain in Seattle they predict is going to sweep the nation. I can see coffeehouses on every street corner in the near future. They’ll take the place of bars.”
“Heaven! We should invest. We’d make a good team.” Maddy laughed. She took a sip and quickly jumped in her seat, coffee spilling down her chin and onto her black jacket.
He was on his feet immediately, taking the cup as he lifted her gently by the arm. “Did you burn yourself?”
“You’d think I’d wait until the darn thing cools, right? Did I get it on myself?”
“Yes. Here, I picked up some napkins.”
She took them and sat down again, attempting to dry her jacket, but he shook his head as she wiped the wrong spot.
“May I?” Peter took a deep breath as he looked at Maddy sitting so quietly in front of him. He touched her arm to signal that he was close to her and knelt on one knee. He was inches from her face, her lips. He felt his breathing change. She nodded, so stoic and fragile, and it took every ounce of strength to restrain himself, to keep from whispering in her ear. He wiped her jacket lightly, removing the foam from her buttons. She still had a bit of coffee on her face, and when he wiped her chin she smiled.
“I hope this isn’t going in your story. It would be pretty embarrassing.”
“I would never do that to you. I spill my coffee all the time.”
She leaned forward for another drink of the hot coffee, and he laughed.
“Masochistic?” He watched her as though hypnotized.
“It’s always what weakens us that we find ourselves compelled to do, isn’t it?”
Peter smiled at the sight of her tongue delicately licking her lips. “Who said that?” He picked up his coffee and sipped.
“I just did.”
They laughed together, and Peter looked for the little crinkle he remembered above her nose, now covered by her sunglasses.
“What exactly do you want from me?”
“Excuse me?” Her question startled him.
“What do you need to know for your story?”
“I’d like to know everything.” He set down his coffee and ran his fingers nervously through his hair. “What motivates you? How do you motivate the children? How is it that you’re so strong?”
“Strong? Is that how you see me? Isn’t that funny, people’s perceptions of others. If only—” Maddy paused and turned her face toward the sunlight so that it reflected off her sunglasses. “If only you knew how it was before. How I didn’t even know if I’d ever get out of bed again.”
Peter became quiet. After a minute, he spoke gently. “What was it like?”
Maddy turned her head and smiled, briefly and achingly sweet. “Someone else asked me that once. My therapist. I told him the first day out of the hospital was the worst, because while you’re still there you feel safe. You’re under the delusion that somehow, before you leave; they’re going to get it right. Do you know that feeling? They’ll figure it all out. When I finally was released, I had no familiar home to go to. Everything was foreign. I didn’t know how to rely on my other senses or even how to begin. I couldn’t rely on my memory, either, because I had no memory of my parents’ new place. That first morning felt like I had died. Imagine not being able to see your home, parents, or sister. Even your—” She hesitated.
“Your boyfriend?”
Madeline’s smile faded, and she became rigid and upright. After a moment, she took another drink of coffee.
Peter sat back. “Someone like you had to have at least one, if not more. Didn’t you?”
“Someone like me?” Her tone was impatient. “I don’t see what that has to do with my interview.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Okay then.”
Peter looked down. “I would only assume a woman like you would have to fight them away. Boxer probably would have come in handy.” He reached out to touch her hand.
She smiled faintly as her shoulders dropped. “Maybe at one time, when I was whole. You can’t understand.” A lock of hair fell forward over her cheek.
“Maybe not.” Peter bit his lips to keep himself from brushing the lock back. “But I’m talking about today, the woman you are now.”
She lifted her chin. “You are very kind.”
“Just calling it as I see it. I may not have had something physically tragic happen to me, but I can tell you I have felt the pain of losing someone; the one I loved most in the world. It almost killed me. My life has never been the same.”
Maddy leaned in to him and touched him on the knee. “When you’re that low,” she said softly, “you can’t get any lower unless you want to end it all.” She nodded. “Which, as much as I thought I did, I was too scared to, too fearful about what might happen.”
Peter laid both hands tenderly on hers, and she sat perfectly still with her hands covered. The sun had sunk lower in the sky, and now it shone off a pearl earring in her small ear.
He knew every curve, every whorl. The white gem burned with a soft light.
Maddy released her hands and reached for her coffee. “From that point on,” she said soberly, “you can only move forward. It doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a constant battle. Your days are filled with anger. The little things you used to care about or fret over no longer have any significance for you. You’ve stripped life to the bare essentials. You don’t spend time on make-up or clothing. You don’t have a mirror to fuss into. It’s all about wondering if you’re ever going to be able to work again, or have the courage to cross a street and not get hit by a car, or even cook a meal by yourself.” Maddy had finished her coffee and was running a finger around the edge of her paper cup.
Peter held back his tears. “I don’t know what to say. I had no idea how much I was going to take from talking to you. Those kids are blessed to have you. I mean you know what they’re going through. You can empathize.”
“But it’s frustrating.” Maddy clenched her fists. “These children have never seen anything. I’ve seen all these things I try to describe to them, but they can’t comprehend what mountains look like or deserts, forests or the ocean. How do you explain color to them? How do you explain the way light falls on a beloved face? They tell me they can’t miss
something they’ve never seen. But me—I live in mourning.”
“I’m humbled by you,” he said quietly.
“Because I can’t see, and you can?” Her voice was pained.
“Because you can see deeper than I ever will.”
Peter closed his eyes. How ironic life could be. Here he was with the woman he had longed for so long, the woman with whom he had learned the only real intimacy he had ever known. All those years of separation, and yet being with her now, without touching her or holding her body, he felt more united with her than ever.
Maddy turned her head, the gold highlights in her brown hair glinting in the late afternoon sun. After a moment she turned back to him. “We’ve been sitting here all this time, and you haven’t told me anything about yourself. What do you write? Who do you write for? Why are you interested in the blind?”
Peter made an empty gesture. “My life seems meaningless after your story.”
Maddy shook her head. “Every life has meaning, and I hear something special in your voice. I know it sounds strange, but there’s something in you that’s so familiar to me. You’re going to laugh. It must be your aura. People give off heat; their bodies give off an aura of light. I can feel that. I can see that.”
“What do you feel?” Peter knew now. His moment was coming.
“May I?” She raised her hands to his face and touched it slowly and surely. “I feel strength and tenderness at the same time. You’re trustworthy and faithful, kind and gentle.”
Peter reached up to take her hand. “You can feel that?”
“Not really.” Maddy laughed. “But it sounded good, didn’t it?” Her sunglasses slid down, and the two little crinkles appeared at the top of her nose.
“I’m not fooled.” Peter laughed with her. “You’re protecting Boxer, not the other way around. Isn’t that true, Boxer?” He looked at the dog at her feet.
They couldn’t stop laughing.
“Madeline.” Peter took her hands in both of hers. “I have to tell you—”
She quieted down, still smiling. “What? That you’re a wizard?”
The Shoebox Page 9