The Legend of Safehaven

by R. A. Comunale

  The senior Edison saw the confused look in the young man’s face. His son spoke up to fill the silence.

  “That’s great, Mom. You can stay for dinner, can’t you, Galen? I haven’t showed you that old radio I fixed up yet.”

  * * *

  Oh, yes, Edison, I do remember that old, cathedral-shaped radio. You still keep it squirreled away somewhere, more than sixty years later, don’t you?

  His forest audience kept watching, as if waiting for him to continue.

  “You know, after high school, I didn’t see Edison or his father for over forty years. That’s a long time, isn’t it?”

  The bear stretched and yawned again.

  “Well, it wasn’t too long after Edison and I got back together that I became a medical sounding board for him and his wife Nancy. It certainly gave my ego a boost to realize that two very bright people respected my medical opinion and advice.

  “But let me tell you something. There is always another edge to the sword of pride. The Greeks would call it ‘hubris.’”

  He stopped to catch his breath. The wolves were sitting down on all fours now. Had the owl fallen asleep?

  “Edison phoned me one evening shortly after my trip to Florida. I had gone there to give the eulogy at my friend Dave’s funeral.”

  “‘Galen, the World War II Memorial is having a special celebration for the surviving vets,’ he said, ‘and Mom and Dad have been invited. Mind if we stop by your place?’

  “It startled me to hear those words, ‘Mom and Dad.’ I hadn’t even asked Edison about them. I had assumed that they were long gone, just like my own parents. After all, Edison was almost sixty, but still younger than I.

  “I heard his old Subaru pull into my parking lot the next day. It was covered with mountain and highway dust. As I watched, an elderly couple got out, and in slow shuffling gait they followed their son and Nancy up the walk to my office entrance.

  “I was staring at them, noting the various infirmities each displayed. And yet … and yet … I could still see the bright, smiling faces shining behind the decay of time, overcoming the inevitability of physical entropy. Ron and Gloria Edison were still there.

  “The old man was no longer straight. His shoulders were stooped by the weight of years. The slightly wide stance and minor tremors of Parkinsonism had replaced the sailor-boy’s confidant walk. The facial creases magnified his grin of welcome remembrance, and his still-firm grip encompassed my hand in greeting.

  “Gloria, shorter than I had remembered her, stood by her partner of over sixty years, her once-linear features now softened by creased cheeks. She, too, was less steady in motion, but her effusive personality and easy way of speaking had not diminished.

  “It was one of those rare, quiet weekend afternoons for me. Soon the five of us were in the throes of reminiscence. It continued during a drive down the George Washington Memorial Parkway past the District of Columbia and into Old Town Alexandria to a restaurant I had recommended.

  “Over dinner, the W-W-Two vet and his wife told of how they first met, and how his young Gloria had braved the wartime travel restrictions to be with her sailor, before he left for distant shores.

  “Memories of my schooldays overwhelmed me…”

  Galen noticed he had begun to shake. Was it from the moist chill breeze of the early mountain morning?

  “It’s almost daylight, my friends. I’d better get back to the house pretty soon. Let me just end my story at this point. Maybe I’ll tell you more tomorrow.”

  He stood up from his rock chair and steadied himself with his walking stick. He hadn’t meant to ramble in front of the forest denizens like this, but they didn’t seem to mind.

  Who’d have thought it?

  As he turned to leave, they seemed to object with a cacophony of grunts, chirps, and moaning barks. Was it his imagination, or was Baloo the bear shaking his head no?

  Was the whimpering of the wolf pack and the sound of multiple tails striking the floor of the forest grotto a protest against his leaving?

  Even the owl added its cherhoots to the feral chorus.

  “Okay, okay, I must be crazy after all. I’d swear you want me to finish my story. Am I right?”

  Maybe he had finally lost touch with reality, but the animal contingent gave guttural approval.

  “Well, you might ask, why am I talking about these people? You never knew them, and I had only that one limited adult contact since the four decades after high school.

  “Do you remember my saying that my friends, the other two-legged ones, had come to rely on my advice when things weren’t right with their health?”

  He paused. The owl opened one eye and nodded its clock-shaped head.

  “See, that’s when I got involved, when I began to see how the Three Fates were going to deal with these two old people who had befriended me when I was young.

  “Each time Edison would tell me about something that went wrong with his parents’ health, I saw the pattern evolving, the inexorable slippery slope that ultimately takes all of us—even you, my friends.

  “That is where you are blessed. You live, you hunt and kill to survive, and then you die. But unlike us upright apes, you do not ruminate about that time when you no longer exist. For you, death is either the finding of food, or the end of the hunt. There is no such thing as a good death, if you are the participant. It is the end of the wonderful and amazing process we call Life. And, with the very little that our human conceit allows us to understand, we can follow the signs that tell us death is imminent and inescapable.

  “My friend called me one day to tell me that his father had been diagnosed with colon cancer. It appeared to have been found early, and his doctors had removed it promptly. But just as you will experience when you are older and cannot run, fly, or chase your prey, so Ron Edison’s body was no longer resilient. If you want to know what that is called … well … it’s encompassed by one word: homeostasis.

  “The man who had helped to defeat the great villains of Europe could not defeat death. When my friend told me how his father was doing, I had to tell him what the signs portended.”

  “Chk hoot?”

  “Yes, owl—or should I call you Baby, like Nancy does? There came a time when I had to tell my friend that his father’s death was imminent—probably that very day. Now maybe it helped Edison; I don’t know for sure. What I do know is that he made the right decision. He told his father’s doctors not to do anything further. It was time for a warrior—husband and father—to enter Valhalla.”

  The alpha wolf let out a low howl, and the other Moonsingers of the mountain joined in.

  Galen waited for the wolves to settle down.

  “So, you ask, why have you told us this story?”

  The bear let out a belch.

  “Yes, that’s it exactly, Baloo! It was years ago, but I still remember it as clearly as I see all of you now—because it happened on this day. My friend’s father died on my birthday.”

  This time Galen rose as quickly as his joints would allow from the cold rock.

  “Story time’s over. I’d best get back to my own den.”

  He turned and slowly made his way up the incline, a more difficult return trip. As he reached the fork in the path, he made a detour. It was only a small detour, he thought, but an appropriate one.

  His steps were steadier now, the fluids in his joints warmed by the climbing exercise. Carefully, walking stick now a pendulum keeping pace as he moved, he entered the Garden of Remembrance.

  It was a deliberately peaceful place. Nancy was first to propose it, when she saw how much Galen missed tending his Virginia garden. It became a way for him to remember and, maybe, communicate with the loves he had lost: Leni to a drunk driver, Cathy to pancreatic cancer, and June in the crossfire of a war.

  The three friends, younger then, had planned its shape and best location on the eastern slope of Agape Mountain. Edison had suggested the circle within a triangle, and Galen himself completed the moti
f with an outer circle. He only half-jokingly commented that it was a representation of life: Circles within circles, each chord, each dimension, yielding flowers from earliest spring to first day of frost. And outside the largest circle, its outline was completed by winter-blooming Christmas roses and snowbells.

  The old man approached the outer diameter. This time he ignored the rustlings from the forest edge and the early-morning luminescent eyes of its inhabitants. As he bowed his head and closed his eyes, he remembered the words of Ecclesiastes 3:

  For everything, there is a season .

  He remembered the old woman, too frail, too overcome at the loss of her life partner, sitting in the car as the remains of her husband were lowered into the earth, and as voices rose in harmony that day, singing the Navy Hymn:

  Eternal Father, strong to save,

  Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,

  Who biddest the mighty ocean deep

  Its own appointed limits keep;

  Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,

  For those in peril on the sea!

  Galen stood at attention and saluted. Then he turned and walked back to the house on the mountain crest. He passed the wooden sign proclaiming SAFEHAVEN and slowly walked up the steps. As he reached for the doorknob, the door swung open, and Nancy and Edison stood there.

  “Happy Birthday, Galen!”

  In Memoriam

  Aaron “Ron” K.

  09/28/1924–03/26/2005

  CHAPTER 12

  Transitions

  Mountain breezes herded clouds across a strawberry-jam sky.

  It was that kind of day. They felt it in their bones—rising tension and the excitement of anticipation. Each of the trio, in his or her own way, had awakened with a renewed sense of purpose and vitality.

  The kids were coming home again!

  “Now, listen, you two, you’re not to tell them anything about my pacemaker … understand?”

  Nancy had brought out a light breakfast of multigrain waffles and homemade fruit preserves. Edison and Galen could barely restrain themselves, but being gentlemen they waited until the lady of the house had taken her seat before stuffing their faces.

  “Why not?” Edison gurgled through a mouthful of waffle and Nancy’s special, “allberry” preserve.

  Galen watched the interplay and understood. He had felt enough difficulty making it through his birthday and could well appreciate Nancy’s desire to minimize that episode in her life. He just nodded.

  “Little brother…” and he hesitated a moment, to see if the moniker would upset Edison again—it didn’t. “How would you feel if you had undergone prostate surgery, and we hung a sign on your neck describing the event for all to see?”

  Nancy demurely took a bite of her waffle to stifle a laugh. Meanwhile Edison cleared his throat, took a sip of Bi Lo Chun tea, and tried to think of a suitable retort.

  “What’s so bad about having a pacemaker?”

  “Nothing. It’s not the pacemaker. It’s what it represents.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Mother Time.”

  Years of listening through headphones to various radio signals had begun to take its toll on Edison’s hearing. Only Galen and Nancy heard the sound of two cars pulling into the gravel driveway. But when the old engineer saw his wife’s face light up in anticipation, he knew the excitement was about to begin. He led the race to the foyer and pulled open the front door just in time to see his now-vintage Subaru roll to a stop, followed by a red and equally disreputable-looking Ford station wagon.

  Was it possible? Carmelita and Antonio, and Freddie, now escorting Lilly Daumier, looked taller and more mature than just a few months earlier.

  As the sta wag disgorged its passengers, a taller Faisal stepped out of the passenger side, opened the right rear door, and a muscular Akela bounded out and began rolling on the yellow-white pebbles. Then the driver’s door opened, and Jacob smiled and stretched. His face showed a confidence and movements that had not existed when the elder trio had intervened for him in New York.

  For all of them—five sighted, one not—the impressive magic and energy of young adulthood dominated the scene.

  Carmelita reached the door first, her cheeks in full flush, as she now had to bend down slightly to hug her tia and tios. Galen was first to notice the diamond-solitaire ring on her left hand, third finger. She turned even more crimson, as she noticed his notice and stuttered, “It’s a friendship ring. Michael gave it to me.”

  Freddie and Lilly, twins in mindset and height, arrived next and double-hugged each of the oldsters.

  “Our little brother has some big news for us, but he said he wouldn’t tell us until we were all together,” Freddie said. “As soon as I use the restroom, I want to hear what it is.”

  He turned and smirked, as Antonio brought up the rear. Lilly punched her beau on the shoulder—and then she kissed him full on the lips.

  Edison surveyed the six young people and noticed they all were wearing sneakers, khaki trousers and blue shirts—including Carmelita. Even Akela sported a blue-and-tan harness. Before he could ask, Faisal and Jacob bounded up the steps and stood by Tonio. The three were now only an inch shorter than Freddie.

  “It was Jacob’s idea, Tio Eddie,” Faisal said. “He wanted us to visibly demonstrate the spirit of Safehaven.”

  Galen looked admiringly at the sightless young man, who saw more than most.

  How did he know what we were thinking?

  Jacob waved a high-definition, digital camera in his hand.

  “I’ve brought plenty of memory cards. While I’m here we’re going to have a big recording session. You guys are going to help make me a famous movie producer someday, and Faisal will write the musical score for my masterpiece!”

  Nancy gave the young man a startled look.

  Who would want to see a bunch of over-the-hill old people and their humdrum existence?

  Still, she had to ask.

  “Do you have a title in mind for your future cinematic triumph, Jacob?”

  Does he ever, Tia Nancy,” Faisal interjected. “He’s going to call it ‘The Safehaven Chronicles!’”

  Edison perked up.

  “Listen, boy, I expect some top movie stars to play me and Nancy. For old Galen here, any bit actor will do.”

  “Ah, that’s the beauty of my idea, Tio Eddie. There are no movie stars—or maybe I should say you all will be the stars. Tell them, Freddie.”

  Very rarely did Federico Edison Hidalgo blush, and those previous times usually occurred when he was alone with Lilly. But now his Castilian good looks turned amber, and he felt tongue-tied, so Lilly took over.

  “It’s an idea Freddie and I are working on for our doctoral dissertations. It involves AI—artificial intelligence—along with holography and computer graphics. Basically, we’re proposing to take anyone’s image and make it younger or older very accurately and then project lifelike, fully three-dimensional holograms in motion. Even more exciting, we have an idea how to generate an actual feeling of substance to the images.”

  “Yep, once I get enough recording data on all of us, the movie will make itself,” Jacob said, waving the camera in the air like a magic wand. “And, as for the spirit of Safehaven, well, isn’t this really where heaven meets earth and grants sanctuary to all who live here? That’s why I chose blue and tan.”

  Faisal chimed in again.

  “Don’t believe him. His girlfriend, Rachel, came up with the idea, after we told her about you guys.”

  Now Jacob’s face turned crimson, as he blurted out, “Well, your little Shania added her two cents, too.”

  The old ones noted the next generation’s process of choosing life paths and partners. Galen observed that Tonio did not join in, and he surmised that Betty’s memory was still shrouding his soul.

  Don’t worry, boy, you’ll find someone who’ll fill that void in your heart.

  Edison’s eyes seemed suddenly brighter and full of m
ischief behind their bottle-glass lenses.

  “Come on, guys and gals, let’s go to my workshop. I want to hear more about this.”

  The old man was a pied piper, leading his two protégé engineers down to his basement lair, and he chuckled to himself as he walked.

  I just might have a surprise for you all.

  Tonio moved closer to Galen, tilted his head down, and whispered into the old man’s ear, “Tio, can we talk privately?”

  Galen peered into the young man’s eyes.

  Yes, he’s definitely taller, no doubt about it.

  “Stow your stuff in your room, then we’ll talk.”

  Faisal’s sharp hearing had picked up the words, but he said nothing. He pretty much knew what his friend was going to say to his guardian, so he just smiled to himself, as he followed the descending sound of footsteps to Edison’s lab, Akela walking beside him.

  That left Carmelita and Nancy, who held up the young woman’s left hand.

  “Friendship ring, huh? With everyone else taking off, I guess you and I will be the only ones eating the fresh brownies I made.”

  Carmelita hugged her again then pulled back a little—she felt the small, hard lump in Nancy’s left upper chest.

  “Tia, I’m almost done with my course work. I’ve got so much to tell you. Next month, if my adviser and committee accept it, I’ll be defending my dissertation!”

  The two women continued talking as they headed to the kitchen.

  Galen followed Antonio to his room and sat on the edge of the bed, watching for signs of what might be coming. The young man didn’t seem upset, but he was finding it difficult to contain himself.

  Must be good news.

  Galen braced himself, as Antonio set his gear in the corner, pulled out the desk chair, and straddled it. He was grinning now, dark-brown eyes reflecting the afternoon light from the side window. The cowlick curl on top of his head vibrated visibly from his excitement.

  “Tio, what’s your greatest wish?”

  “You mean right now, or in the past?”

  He could be coy, too.

  “You know, right now.”