The Path Of Dreams

by Eugene Woodbury

  “Hai!” she answered, with an unequivocal nod of her head. “Finals,” she said in English. “I’ll see you at four,” and disappeared down the hall.

  Connor blinked. An immense and sublime stillness surrounded him. He could hear his heartbeat, the rush of blood in his ears.

  “Connor—” somebody said again.

  He sat down and swiveled back. This time Alicia, auditioning for the role of Cheshire cat, pointed to her left. Xiaojing was waiting with a quizzical expression on her face. “That was—” He focused his attention on her workbook. “Um,” he said, keeping his voice low, “that was my fiancée.”

  “Oh, when are you getting married?”

  Good question. And there was an even better one, the one Elly had posed so long ago: What happens next?

  A student wandered into the Center wearing a look of desperation Connor was familiar with at this time of year. When they were done and he checked the clock again, it was five after four.

  “Hey Larry,” Connor said to Larry Jackson. “Can you take the desk? I’ll be back in a sec.”

  Students streamed toward the stairwells. He didn’t see Elly until she was only two yards from him. She smiled and flung herself at him. He loved the way she did that. He caught her around the waist and lifted her up, her lissome body light as a feather. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

  “Tell me the waka.”

  “The waka? Oh, the waka.” He had it memorized by now: I run to you

  ceaselessly

  on the path of dreams Yet no night of dreams could ever compare to one waking glimpse of you

  He added, as he had on the card, “I do agree with the lady poet.” She kissed him again, a kiss that lingered longer than the rules governing public displays of affection at BYU generally allowed. As they parted, Elly teased, “I never suspected you were such a romantic.”

  “I worried maybe I wasn’t doing enough wooing.”

  “I should do more to encourage it then.”

  “More encouragement like that and I’ll have a nervous breakdown.”

  “I’m the one having the nervous breakdown. I decided to marry you last night. Okay, I didn’t decide—I knew I was going to marry you all along. I just freaked when everything switched into reality mode. Then Melanie told me about this song: ‘A man shall leave his mother—’”

  “The Wedding Song, by Paul Stookey.”

  “You know it too?”

  “Four older sisters, remember? Four wedding receptions.”

  “The leaving home part is harder than I thought.” She held onto him for a while longer. “Do you have work?”

  “Yeah, I probably should get back.”

  “Me too.” She laughed. “Bradley is waiting. My star pupil. Come and get me when your shift ends.”

  They kissed again. She smiled at him in a way that made walking away difficult.

  “Hey, Connor,” Larry said, when he walked into the Center, “could you take the computers?”

  “Sure.” Connor sat down at the computer sign-up desk at the back of the Center. Alicia walked over and gave him a bemused look.

  “What?”

  Alicia returned a minute later with a Kleenex. She leaned forward and daubed at his mouth.

  “Hey!” Connor jerked his head back.

  “Lipstick.” Alicia held up the Kleenex as proof. “And he blushes. That’s so cute.” She resumed making him presentable. “Now the only question is the date. Hmmm.” With a wink she walked away.

  Connor rested his forehead on the desk. Einstein said that time slowed down as one approached the speed of light, and Connor could believe it. He’d done a year’s worth of normal living in the past two hours. At this rate, he’d be hitting retirement by Fall semester.

  Larry took over the computers at five.

  Connor said, “Hey, Larry, see you in the Fall.”

  He went to the break room and cleaned out his locker. Alicia was at the front desk. He paused at the counter. “How are you spending the break, Alicia?”

  “At Lake Powell with Eddie’s folks. I figure it’s the last time I’ll look presentable in a swimsuit before I blow up like a beach ball. How will you two be spending the next three weeks, pray tell?”

  “Hard to say. I’d have to ask Elly.”

  “Remember, when it comes to the wedding, your job is to do whatever she says. See you, Connor.”

  “See you, Alicia.”

  The door to the Japanese TA office was propped open with a doorstop. The only sound inside was the squeak of a red felt tip against paper. He tread softly to Elly’s carrel, put a hand on her shoulder and kissed the crown of her head. She placed her hand on his and said, “Almost done.”

  He heard her counting deductions under her breath. She wrote a grade on the cover page. “Okay,” she said. She stuffed the remaining exams into her backpack and hefted it onto her shoulder.

  “So,” Elly said, as they walked back down the hall, “what made you decide on Komachi?”

  “I don’t know. For some reason I woke up this morning and couldn’t get it out of my head.”

  “The things going on in your head fascinate me. Oh, Melanie invited Chalmers Ch r over for pizza and a video. It’s our end-of-finals party.”

  “What’s the movie?”

  “ Shall We Dance.”

  “Good movie. Who’s Chalmers Ch r ?”

  “My old zone leader. Mel’s got her eye on him. And she should.” “So now you’re ready to play the go-between.”

  “I’m an expert about being in love with you, which I naturally extend

  to everybody I know.” As they exited the JKHB, Connor remarked, “Alicia figured it out already. Now she’s ruminating about the date. There are three weeks left until Fall semester.”

  “So, around the thirtieth?”

  “That’s awfully quick, even by BYU standards.”

  “I don’t want to wait. To be honest, I never thought I’d think that before.” Connor laughed and Elly said with feigned crossness, “I’m sure you, Mr. Stoic, could persevere for years.”

  “No, no, I agree. My will is but Jell-O in your hands.” And thus, Connor noted, does an indicative statement, when spoken by an Oh woman, become a fact. But he felt compelled to point out the obvious: “You know, this is going to cause some problems.”

  “Yes, quite a few.”

  She must have considered several, because worry and concern creased her brow. She leaned closer and tightened her hold on his hand.

  Chapter 25

  Figaro’s Overture

  Connor recognized Greg Chalmers from Japan. “We were both in Abeno ward when I was working for Nobuo.” “Only you had a beard then,” Greg recalled. He snapped his fingers. “Yeah, that’s right. It must have been Elly you were asking about that one time.”

  “Connor asked about me? What one time?”

  “When was it? That’s right—you saw a pair of sister missionaries in Nakamozu and were wondering who they were.”

  So? Elly’s expression said to Connor.

  “Your last name threw me. I was expecting a Japanese name.” Melanie interrupted, “Are you two officially engaged or what?” Elly grinned.

  “You’re engaged?” Melanie practically shrieked.

  “Set a date?” Greg asked more calmly.

  Elly looked at Connor and said, “The thirtieth.”

  Melanie choked on her Diet Coke. “Of August?” Melanie said to Greg,

  “They’re both pah.” She made the plosive motion with her fingers next to her right ear. “I’m definitely going to stick around and see what happens now.” She mouthed again to her roommate, the thirtieth? Elly nodded. Melanie said aloud: “What are you going to do, elope?”

  “There are a few strings I think I can pull.” “Ah,” said Melanie.

  The two men looked at each other and shrugged.

  Later that night, after the pizza and video, Connor and Elly wandered across the baseball diamond. They stopped at second base an
d exchanged kisses that tasted of tomato paste and popcorn. Music from a car stereo reverberated across the park.

  Elly asked, “Do you know how to dance?”

  “I took social dance,” Connor said. “My senior year, a girl in my family home evening group wanted to audit the class, and a girl can’t audit social dance unless she brings a guy along. So now I can foxtrot to anything.” He swung her around by the waist. “Slow-slow, quick-quick. That’s all you have to remember.”

  “Easier if you just pick me up and carry me.”

  So he did that, and set her down on the grass. They watched the moon rise over the mountains. Elly said, “I just realized something. Obon ends on the fifteenth too. Don’t they light the Y on the mountain for graduation? We can pretend it’s the okuribi bonfire.”

  “There do seem to be a few of our ancestors’ spirits wandering about. Perhaps it’s time to send them on their way.”

  “The right intentions but a questionable grasp of the means? It was a different world back when they were our age.”

  “Does that mean the ends do or do not justify the means?”

  “I haven’t any complaints about the ends.” Elly nestled into the crook of his arm.

  A playful shriek echoed across the park. Cold water pelted down. “The sprinklers!” They leapt to their feet and hurried to the safety of the parking lot. Jets of water arched across the dark lawn, throwing off a halo of rising mist that sparkled icy white in the glare of the distant streetlights.

  Elly asked, “Can I come over tomorrow?”

  “Not tonight?”

  “I’m too frazzled. And feeling a bit too randy for my own good. Not a healthy combination.”

  “Afraid I might take advantage?”

  She draped her arms around his neck and smiled coquettishly. “You’re too honorable a fiancé to try something like that. And I’d be disappointed if you didn’t. Our great-grands really knew what they were doing. Though I keep thinking there’s something else they were after.”

  “You mean getting married?”

  “Something more than getting married.”

  When she got back, Melanie and Greg were sitting on the couch talking. He didn’t have his arm around her yet. But seemed inclined in that direction. Elly knew better than to barge in, so she went upstairs to her room and lay on her bed.

  We haven’t gotten to the ends. She was chock full of cryptic wisdom these days. There was so much more they had to do. She closed her eyes and saw again the image of an old man and a young boy and a car. There was so much more she had to do. She was determined to marry Connor. She was convinced that they belonged together forever, and that absolutely no good would follow from their being apart. She was so desperately in love with him, yet she still could not say that she loved him.

  What is love? she asked herself. From a long-forgotten AP English class, the lines from Twelfth Night crept into her thoughts: ’tis not hereafter;

  Present mirth hath present laughter; What's to come is still unsure.

  In delay there lies no plenty;

  Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty; Youth’s a stuff will not endure.

  Tears welled up in her eyes. Patience, she recalled her mother lecturing her so many times. Elly smiled despite all her fears. The next morning Connor met her at the back door of the basement apartment with a drawer under his arm. Classical music was playing in the background. Elly recognized the music only as an opera.

  She looked at the drawer. “What’s that?”

  “It’s from the bureau. The bottom panel is split.”

  He led her through the doorway adjacent to the stairs, past a weight

  bench, the water heater and the furnace. Her attention was drawn to the kitchen alcove. A pair of naked hundred-watt bulbs glowed in the ceiling fixture. A microwave, a refrigerator, a set of cupboards over a counter and sink.

  “No stove?”

  “Never ran the wiring and Aunt Wanda thought a gas stove was too much of a risk with her previous tenants. Always use the kitchen upstairs. The washer and dryer are down at the other end by the stairs.” He indicated the spackled drywall. “I’m getting around to all this.” He set the drawer on top of the bureau. “A little beat up, but it’s in pretty good condition.”

  Elly nodded.

  “There’s a mirror that goes with it.” He rooted around in the closet beneath the staircase. “Here it is.” He held up the dusty, walnut-framed mirror.”

  Elly nodded again.

  “The question is where to put it. The bureau, I mean. I was thinking against the wall next to the window. But facing east or north?”

  She followed him into the bedroom. “This way,” she said, pointing toward herself.

  “Linens and towels are here.” He indicated the closet next to the bathroom door.

  Elly turned around and took a step. Her foot struck something hard and heavy. She glanced down at the corner of the bed and lifted the edge of the comforter. The frame was elevated on four cinderblocks, which in turn sat on a plywood pad. She couldn’t see what kept the whole thing from rocking over.

  Connor explained, “I put two-by-six blocks under the mattress frame, and dropped quarter-inch lag bolts through the angle irons into the cinderblocks.”

  Elly bit her lower lip and scrunched up her cheeks.

  What?” Connor asked.

  “Nothing.” But she was beginning to giggle.

  Connor looked hurt. “It’s a quite efficient design.”

  Elly burst out laughing. “It is, it is. I’m sorry.” She managed a moment of self-control. “It’s all very practical.”

  “Yes, it is.” He pouted.

  She kissed him to make up for her teasing. “What’s the opera?”

  “Mozart. The Marriage of Figaro.” He led her into the living room, hit stop and then play. “It has one of the greatest overtures of all time.” She noted how his right hand moved as if conducting the orchestra through the exuberant, opening bars. “During the overture, Figaro is measuring his apartment for a new bed.”

  “How appropriate.” Her eyes sparkled.

  “I thought so too.” He extracted a booklet from the CD case and turned to the libretto. “Here it is.”

  That was indeed how the opera started: Figaro marking out a space for the bed the Count had so generously provided.

  Elly nodded. “I think you should fix the drawer, Danna-san.”

  “That I will, Okusan.”

  Chapter 26

  Aunt Wanda’s Advice

  Elly didn’t hear Aunt Wanda coming down the stairs until the old woman knocked and said, “Hello there, Elly.” She swiveled around in the chair. “Hi, Aunt Wanda. Connor’s in the kitchen fixing the bureau.”

  “Yes, the third drawer in that old oak bureau has a split bottom.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. She turned down the hallway. Elly heard her say to her nephew, “I see you’re fixing that bureau.”

  “Just the drawer. Otherwise it’s in pretty good shape.”

  “So I see. And you’re about ready to start painting as well.”

  “Did you have any particular color scheme in mind?”

  “Oh, I think Elly’s tastes are preferable to mine in this case.”

  The washing machine started up, drowning out the rest of the conversation. Elly finished marking the exams, checked them again to verify her arithmetic, and then got out her grade sheets. She ducked into the kitchen and asked Connor how to get on the Internet.

  “The laptop’s on. Just hit the spacebar to wake it up and click on the browser icon.”

  The screen lit up when she tapped the spacebar. He had a mouse in addition to the touchpad. Maneuvering the mouse, she noticed a minimized Word file and opened it. It was Connor’s to-do list:

  1. Fix bureau

  2. Closet space

  3. Finish kitchen (next 2 wks)

  sand

  paint

  new light fixture

  4. Parents?

  Wanda, Lynne, Martin, Bishop F
erguson, Alicia (not here), Melanie, Oh Sensei 5. License

  6. Temple date

  It was a good list, she had to admit. And what about their parents? Oh, no, she thought. There was no way her parents could arrange to come on such short notice, especially during Obon. Eloping was cowardly, but she knew her mother would insist on putting the marriage off till Christmas. Even at the age of twenty-three, Elly had no confidence in being able to stand up to her mother in a match of wills.

  She smiled grimly to herself, minimized the window, and brought up Internet Explorer. She logged onto the humanities department server and entered the final exam scores. The computer calculated the grades. Bradley made an A. Good. He deserved it.

  Connor clamped the drawer together and daubed off the excess glue oozing from the split in the wood. “Computer work okay?” he asked.

  She nodded and said in a rush, “What about our parents? We can’t tell them, we can’t. Not beforehand.” She paused and said more tentatively, “Do you think your parents are going to mind?”

  Connor shook his head. “I honestly don’t think so. In your case—”

  “Yes, in my case, very much a big deal. A big enough deal without making it an even bigger deal, which is what it would become if my parents got involved. And no reception. That’s got to be a plus. I mean, I don’t feel a pressing need for a crystal punch bowl and a china gravy boat.”

  “Well—if you can do without a china gravy boat.”

  Elly took a deep breath. It was crazy, but she had a plan. Perhaps an impossible plan, but even a doomed plan was preferable to no plan at all. “Hungry?” Connor asked. “It must be after twelve by now.” They went upstairs to the kitchen. Connor poked around in the refrigerator and came up with bagels and deli meat.

  Aunt Wanda walked in carrying a pile of dish towels. Elly whispered to Connor, “Should we tell her?”

  “What’s that?” said Wanda.

  Connor said, “We’re getting married.”

  “Good for you. Have you set a date?”

  “The thirtieth,” they said together.

  “The thirtieth? Of this month, you mean?” She raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t leave yourselves much time.”