Searching for Tomorrow (Tomorrows)

by Kathryn McNeill Crane

  At 8:30, the gym doors opened, and a rush of bodies swarmed through in a race to the bleachers. The excitement level was so high that you could feel it. The bleachers and floor vibrated as feet stomped in a steady rhythm of percussion, and cheers spontaneously broke out among the students. The spirit cry of “Highlanders! Highlanders!” was loud enough that the folks down at Town Hall could hear it.

  The frenzied student body had worked their excitement to epic proportions by the time the cheerleaders made it out to the gym floor, executing various flips and tumbles along the way. Forming parallel lines, the cheerleaders faced each other, creating a human tunnel for the football players to run through. With pom-poms raised and shaking, the cheerleaders prepared to lead the students in a chant, naming each player as he ran out. Mr. Draheim, the assistant principal, stood at the lectern and called each name over the PA system. Mr. Jetter, the principal, would emerge after the last of the players, and then give a small pep talk to the student body.

  Because they were co-captains, my boys were the first called, and therefore the first to run through the tunnel. I stationed myself at the far end of the line, and as Tripp ran up to me, he picked me up and spun me around before planting a firm kiss on my lips. The students went wild with their screaming and started chanting, ‘kiss her again’ over and over.

  While the nature of our relationship was no secret to anyone, public displays of affection were unacceptable at school. Mr. Draheim noisily cleared his throat, and just as he opened his mouth to reprimand us, the gym door slammed against the wall. Mrs. Bowen, the librarian, rushed inside and straight up to the podium. I immediately turned around so that I could see what was happening.

  It was quite evident that she was distraught. Her face was red and her meticulous bun was starting to slip from its knot. Tears streamed down her face as she approached Mr. Draheim. Covering the microphone with her hand, she leaned forward and whispered something in his ear.

  A look of shock crossed Mr. Draheim’s face. Holding his composure together by only a thread, he stopped the pep rally and called Mr. Jetter to the microphone. While the bewildered students looked on, the three adults quietly conferred. With a look of dread, Mr. Jetter turned and announced to the student body, “I’m sorry to interrupt the pep rally, but I need all teachers to go to your classrooms, and then I need each of you to calmly exit the gym, freshman class first, and make your way straight to your homeroom. Please wait there for further instruction.”

  Tripp still had his arms wrapped around me from when he’d picked me up. He gently turned me so that I faced him again. “Until we know what’s going on, I do NOT want you leaving my side. Your class or mine?”

  Knowing that Tripp and Liam shared every class, as well as homeroom, made my choice an easy one. “Let’s just go to your class; that way we’ll all be together. I need to stop by and check in with Mrs. Keyse or she’ll mark me absent.” I knew that if we went to my class, then Liam would be worried about me.

  As we walked from the gym, Liam walked up on the other side of me. “Sis, you’re with Tripp until we know something more. I’m going to head over to Mom’s class to see if she knows anything.” He kissed me on the head, punched Tripp on the arm, and walked off in the direction of the elementary wing.

  Tripp pulled me tightly against his side as we made our way down the crowded hall and said, “I just can’t imagine what has happened, but whatever it is must be pretty bad for the pep rally to be canceled right in the middle. Wonder if the President was shot or something.”

  I just snuggled deeper into his side. A sense of bad things to come had completely struck me dumb and numb. I did not need to know what had happened. I just felt this hole in my stomach telling me that whatever it was, it was not good. As I looked down the hall and saw my sweet brother racing towards us with a panicked look on his face, I knew that life had just changed for all of us. I certainly had no idea just how much it would change.

  When Liam reached us, he told us that all Mom knew for certain was that two planes had crashed into the World Trade Center, and it was rumored there were more locations. The buildings were burning and people trapped above the fire level could not get out. She really did not have any more details, but if we wanted, we could come to her class when school dismissed. Just then, word from the principal about an early dismissal of classes within the hour cam over the intercom, so Liam, Tripp, and I all went to the office, signed ourselves out, and then headed back to the elementary wing.

  As we walked the halls, it seemed every class had turned on the television. Our plans were to catch the news in Mom’s room, but sounds came from all sides and echoed off the ceiling. Knowing only that planes had crashed, we expected sounds of explosions, but the sounds we heard were of gasps, sobs, and curses. We stopped in a doorway to see if we could figure out what had happened. It was then that we saw first one plane as it crashed into a building, and then a second plane as it crashed into the twin building. Tripp had me in such a tight hold that by later that morning bruises had already formed. Neither of us noticed though, because we focused completely on the nightmare playing out, right before our very eyes.

  September 11, 2001 was a time of great sadness for the United States. The 9/11 attacks were coordinated terrorist strikes launched against the United States. Four passenger airliners were hijacked and used in suicide missions. In total, almost 3,000 people died in the attacks, including the 227 civilians and 19 hijackers aboard the planes. It was later discovered that more planes had been targeted to destroy other buildings, but the nationwide shutdown of all the airports prevented these plans from becoming a reality.

  The sounds of sobbing seemed to break through the haze that clouded my mind. It was then that I realized that I had buried my face in Tripp’s chest in a feeble attempt to put the horrible pictures out of my mind. Tripp’s grip on me changed from bruising to soothing as he attempted to calm my frantic wails. Nothing in my almost eighteen years could have prepared me for the sight of such devastation and loss. I seriously doubted that anything ever could have.

  I lifted my eyes to Tripp’s and what I saw made my heart stutter and stop for a moment. While I could see the confusion and hurt that he felt, I also saw an anger that alarmed me. My Tripp’s disposition had always been playful, tender, and easygoing. Having rarely seen him mad, I was not quite sure how I should react to what I was seeing. Questions must have sparked from my eyes because Tripp immediately pulled me closer and placed tender kisses, first on my forehead, then on the tip of my nose, and finally on my lips. He lingered on the last kiss, which only increased my concern. What I felt in that kiss, in that moment, told me that I would need to be prepared, but for what? I had no idea.

  Tripp seemed to draw into himself. He became depressed, and almost irate. When we left school, he dropped Liam and me off at the house and then left. He said he had some thinking to do, and that he would be back when his thoughts settled down. It was only 10:00 in the morning, and I had no idea when I would see him again, or where he would go to think.

  This was such an abrupt change in Tripp. I had no idea how to handle it. I couldn’t help but feel alarmed. Tripp had never pulled back from me, separated himself from me. Not one single, solitary time. I was clueless as to how I should process all the thoughts and emotions that were swirling around in my head.

  Liam wrapped his arm around me and carefully guided me towards the house. When we stepped onto the porch, instead of taking me inside, he led me over to the porch swing. We sat there, slowly swaying back and forth, his arms enveloped around me while my tears drenched his shirt. Liam smoothed his hand over my hair and whispered, “It’s going to be okay,” over and over again.

  I had no idea how long Liam and I sat like that on the swing. I only know that when I heard Tripp close the door on his truck, the sun had already begun its journey behind the mountains. The temperatures had approached the freezing mark. In my numbed state, I had somehow missed the slow passing of time.

  Tripp clim
bed the steps, and as he reached for the front doorknob, the movement of the swing caught his eye. He turned towards Liam and me and hesitated. “My Wrynn.” His whisper broke the silence. Those anguished words brought me to my feet and forward, propelling me into his arms. I had no doubt that was where I belonged—sheltered, enveloped, protected … loved.

  I felt the flex of his muscles when his arms squeezed me tighter. My face burrowed into his chest as I tried to get closer to the heat pouring from his body. His mouth dipped to my ear as he whispered his love for me, and his promise of forever. He apologized for leaving me when he knew I needed him, and told me that he would always be there for me.

  I turned my head and sought reassurance that he spoke the truth as his lips met mine. Time stopped, and a fire that I had never before felt burned through me. This was no soft, gentle peck. This was a kiss filled with hunger and desperation. The need flowed between us as I opened my lips beneath his. Our tongues danced together, and as Tripp drew my body closer, a deep longing-filled moan drew up from the depths of my being. The world around us disappeared, as I held tight to the man who had claimed my very soul.

  This was the kiss that I had always longed for. The kiss that marked me as his. The kiss that spoke to me of forever. The feelings and emotions it evoked told me the story of his never-ending love.

  A throat cleared behind us. The sound startled me and broke through the invisible walls that we had temporarily erected around our bodies. As I looked up, I met the reddened eyes and tear stained cheeks of my parents, and realized Liam had somehow slipped off the porch unnoticed. I felt as if someone had doused my fire with cold water. I shivered and Tripp’s arms tightened around me once more. He then released me, only to turn me around so that we both faced my parents.

  Tripp’s arms embraced me again as he pulled my body flush against him. He looked first to Mom and then to Dad. “I have something I need to talk to you about. Some of the things I’ve been thinking about today. Decisions that I know I need to make, but I need your help, your wisdom. You’ve never failed to give me guidance, and I need it now more than ever.”

  Dad took a deep breath and cupped my face in his hands. His eyes never left mine though he spoke solely to Tripp. “Son, you know we love you. Heck, you’re one of ours. We’ll do anything possible to help you. You know that. I see the confused, angry look in your eyes and I understand. I really do. But after all that has happened today, do you really think it’s a good time to be making life-changing decisions? Decisions that will affect all of us? Decisions that could shatter my little girl into a million broken pieces?”

  Now, I had always considered myself a fairly intelligent person, but at that exact moment, I lacked even one ounce of understanding as to what I was witnessing. My brain was so muddled that I just couldn’t comprehend what anyone was saying. The look in my father’s eyes gave me mixed messages. I saw love, of course, and understanding, compassion even. What confused and scared me though was the underlying glimpse of fear that I detected.

  Tripp took my hand, led me into the house and over to the couch. As he sat, he gently tugged my arm until I landed on his lap. He could tell by the way my eyes widened and my jaw dropped that his behavior shocked me, and he gave a small smile at the expression on my face. While Tripp had always been demonstrative with his affection, this was a bit more forward than even I was accustomed to experiencing, especially in front of my parents.

  Mom and Dad both took a place on the loveseat, concern evident on their faces. After staring into each other’s eyes for a moment, Mom gave a small nod and Dad turned to face us. I had always envied the way they could speak to each other with no words. “Tripp, son, talk to us. Let us know what is going on in your head.”

  “Pop, I just keep going over and over what we saw this morning. I can’t get the images of the planes hitting the buildings, the people jumping from a hundred stories up, out of my mind. I can’t imagine what kind of hatred must be behind this. I feel helpless, lost. I want to do something. No, I need to do something. When I dropped Wrynn and Liam off here, I went to Smyrna to see Papa and Nana. Papa and I sat on the porch and had a long talk. I’ve never talked much about my dad because I’ve always felt guilty that I don’t miss him as much as I should. He died when I was almost seven. Then, Mom sold the house and we moved here. Nana and Papa weren’t always here, and I missed them so much. Too many things were changing too fast for my little brain to keep up. When I met y’all, you grabbed me up and made me your own. You gave me a reason to not miss everything as much.”

  I turned my face into his neck. I could smell the tension-filled sweat rolling off his body in waves, could feel the anxiety knotting his muscles. Tripp tightened his arms around me and placed several small kisses on my head. He took a deep breath, and continued. “When Mother moved us here to Highlands, I was so confused. I was a sad, lost little boy whose dad was dead and whose own mother couldn’t stand to be around him.”

  An anguished gasp came from the loveseat. When I looked over, tears were streaming down my sweet mother’s face. She rose from her seat, came to the sofa, and sank to her knees. Reaching up, she grasped Tripp’s face between both of her hands. After placing a gentle kiss on Tripp’s forehead, she said in a gentle, quiet voice, “No mother could ever NOT love you, baby. You’re the sweetest, most sincere, loving young man, and any mother would be proud of you. She just doesn’t know how to show it with all the bitterness in her heart. I hope you know that I am so very proud of you, and I love you as if you were my own son.”

  A choked cough sounded behind us. We all looked up to see Liam standing in the doorway, his face red, and tears filling his eyes. It looked as if he had overheard the whole conversation. “Tripp, you are my brother. Don’t ever think you’re not part of this family. Don’t ever think your parents don’t love you. We and Papa and Nana have always tried to be the best family that you could have.” As Liam walked to the couch and placed his hand on Tripp’s shoulder, he finished with a simple, “I love you, brother.”

  By the time Liam finished speaking, Dad had joined us at the couch. Drawing the four of us into the comforting cradle of his arms, he looked Tripp in the eyes and said, “Tell us, son. Just spit it out. We can’t take the wait. What did you and Papa talk about?”

  “Well, Pop, you know that Papa was in the Army. He saw action in Korea. He still has shrapnel in his thigh and chest. I’m sure you’ve seen the scars. He loves showing them off. He’s so proud of his service to our country, and you know that I am proud of him, too. My dad would’ve joined when he graduated high school, but he blew his knee out playing football his senior year. He was the first Tidwell since before World War I to not serve his country, and he regretted that until the day he died. Until today, I can honestly say I hadn’t given it much thought, but after talking with Papa, I’m going to look into joining the Army, ask questions, and hopefully get some answers. I don’t want to live with the same regret my father did.”

  Fear crawled in without my knowing, and it grabbed me by the heart. The Army? Tripp would be gone. My lungs squeezed all the air out and I struggled to take in another breath. How would I survive with a part of my heart missing? Could I live with never knowing when he’s leaving, how long he’ll be gone, or if he’s ever coming back? If he was going to do this, I knew that I would have to learn to live with the ‘what-ifs’, and to try to prepare myself for anything.

  Chapter Seven

  Present

  I decide to take a little time to shower and make myself presentable for the Queen Mother, wasting more time to mull this over. I seriously do not want to do this. I would give almost anything to get out of it, but if my reaching out to her helps Liam, then I will most assuredly do it. Unfortunately, Mother Tidwell knows this little fact, too.

  As I head to my closet, I can’t help but think back to the days when Tripp would leave little surprises for me in there. Sometimes, I would find my favorite Hershey’s Kisses or Reese’s Cups, sometimes a book, and once a ste
rling silver brush that he used to gently remove the tangles from my hair before bed every night when he was home. It never failed that when he returned home on leave that gifts both big and small would find their way to my side of the shelves.

  At times, I catch myself skimming the shelves to see if anything new has suddenly appeared for me. After a moment of searching, the reality that is now my life comes crashing back to slap me in the face. Maggie is my last gift from Tripp, unless I can somehow make myself open the box that sits on the shelf high above the neatly folded stacks of Tripp’s jeans and t-shirts. I just don’t know at what point I will be strong enough to see just what he had at base to remind him of the girls and me.

  I always promise myself that I will be resilient enough to deal with all of his stuff tomorrow. I keep searching for that tomorrow, and it never seems to come, so each day I just keep trudging along.

  I shake off the thoughts of Tripp and return to the matter of what to wear when I go to see his mother. Even though I am as casual and down to earth as a person can get, I know that if I make my appearance at her royal court dressed in my normal jeans, tee and cowboy boots, then I will not only have to bear her looks of criticism, but will also have to hear her words of contempt. And God forbid I wear flip-flops and cut-offs. That right there is cause for a flogging.

  I am so grateful to see the majority of my clothes not only clean, but also folded or hanging in my closet. When my friends Jennifer and Wendy heard through the town grapevine that I was pulling as many double shifts as Charlie would give me, they decided it was time for an intervention. They came over on my day off and helped me get caught up on all my housework, laundry, and the latest gossip. They even invited the girls and me to go camping Memorial Day weekend. Every inch of my house is sparkling clean. Every dirty piece of laundry is washed, dried, folded, and put in its place. Now, fifteen slow cooker meals wait in the freezer for those days when I know I won’t have time to cook. I try to remember to thank God for my blessings every day, and you can sure bet that those two ladies are on my list.