by Eden Maguire
Hunter had promised that Phoenix would be there, waiting for me. I'd already glimpsed him in the classroom, in my kitchen, standing by the picket fence. He'd been there an instant then faded. In the heartbeat after he'd disappeared I'd sensed his massive disappointment in me for turning
my back on him.
Sorry, so sorry, my love! I put my foot on the gas, sped recklessly towards the ridge. At the end of the track, I jumped out of the car and ran through the silky green grass.
You need me I know you do. More than ever before.
Here was the stand of aspens and the rusty water tower, there was the val ey, the poppy-strewn hil sweeping down towards the ranch house and the bam.
Please, Phoenix, don't tel me that I 'm too late!
I paused for breath, stared at the truck abandoned down the side of the house with two wheels missing, the hood dented, the glass in the windshield cracked and crazed. I looked from there to the big barn, so old and weathered that it almost looked part of the landscape. I saw weeds springing up outside the open door, the giant moose horns branching above.
Not too late, please!
I wanted wings to start beating, a barrier to keep me out, to tel me the Beautiful Dead were back.
You promised,' I told Hunter out loud.
But there was warmth and sun - no wind, no wings as I set off again
down the hil side.
I'd made maybe ten strides when a voice cal ed out.
It came from the ridge so I stopped and turned. There was a man a deer hunter or a hiker dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt hanging open over a white T standing by the open door of a silver SUV. He must have driven off-trail, was maybe curious to find out why I abandoned my car in this deserted spot.
'We need to talk!' he yel ed.
Bad timing, mister! I'd been building up to this visit for weeks and didn'?5 want a stranger interfering with my big reunion. But what could I do? I had to walk back up the hil and throw him off the scent.
'You don't know me,' he said as I drew near. 'But I know you.'
I broke my stride, frowned at him. 'Are you fol owing me?'
'Coincidence. I was up early, driving in your neighbourhood. I knew your car.
'You knew my car?' If I was feeling uneasy before, double it now that I got a clear view of the guy. He was tal , late-forties and I felt as though I'd seen him before.
'A red convertible. Zak told me.'
'Zak?' Since when did I develop this parrot habit?
it fits,' he said, looking me up and down. 'You would be Phoenix's type of girl. '
My eyes widened and I clammed right up. I looked again. His hair was dark, going grey at the temples, his face tanned, with wide, grey-blue eyes. Why so familiar?
'Michael Rohr,' he said, walking towards me and offering to shake my hand. 'I'm Phoenix's dad.'
We walked together along the ridge to Angel Rock.
'I thought you were in Germany,' I said.
'I lived in Europe for ten years,' Rohr admitted. 'I came back when I heard the news about Phoenix.'
'You didn't make the funeral.'
'I missed it by a week. Picked up my ex-wife's email in an internet cafe,
came back as soon as I could.'
'Brandon never mentioned that you were in town.' I was wondering what good Michael Rohr thought he was doing, showing up after the event when he'd played no part in family life for a decade. Most likely Brandon thought the same.
'Brandon doesn't like that I exist,' Michael confirmed. 'Ditto my exwife.'
'What about Zak?'
The kid's OK with me being around. He was too young to blame me for what happened when it happened.'
'Between you and Sharon?' I relaxed a little as we walked away from the ranch house and barn, though it freaked me out that what was familiar abou?6 Michael Rohr was that he was the double of Phoenix, thirty years on. I tensed again as it hit me hard that Phoenix would never get to his late forties, would always be young. 'Phoenix never talked about the divorce. I just knew you weren't around.'
The split wasn't pretty,' he admitted. 'There were other people involved. Their mom was pretty angry. Stil is.'
This part at least was true. Whenever I encounter Sharon Rohr she comes across as a bitter, worn-out woman - one of life's angry victims. And she definitely doesn't bond with me.
Under Angel Rock Michael and I stopped and looked out towards Amos Peak.
'Is there something specific you want us to talk about?' I asked.
They say you come out here a lot.' He chewed the inside corner of his lip as he spoke so his words came out low and indistinct - another Phoenixism. And he left gaps in the conversation, just the same way.
'It was our favourite spot,' I lied. 'Anyhow, who's "they"?'
'The guys in town. I hooked up a while back with Russel Bishop.'
'You did?' This took me a while to process. Russel is Zoey's dad Herr Commandant. 'I didn't think he talked to anyone worth less than ten mil ion dol ars.'
'We go way back to when we were kids. I grew up around these parts.' 'You did?' I repeated.
'After I met Sharon we moved to Cleveland for work. After the split she
ended up back here, I guess because this is where she has her roots.'
There was a lot I stil didn't know about the Rohr family, I realized. 'So Russel tel s me you're good buddies with Zoey.'
'The best.'
'You helped her through a hard time. He also says you were dating my son.
I nodded.
'Can't talk about it, huh?' I shook my head.
'Even after a year.' 'Less than a year.'
'Almost a year.' With his hands in his pockets he stared at the distant mountains. 'You know why I went to work in Germany? Because Sharon kept the kids away from me, wouldn't let me anywhere near them. I tries 7 the legal route, I tried everything.'
'So why move away?' If he wanted to see his kids so much, how come he went to live thousands of miles away?
'The problem got too big for me to solve. I had to turn my back, walk away.
A smal light went on in my head. 'Gotcha.' Think Mom and Dad,
recognize how little I'd seen my own father these last five years - he wrote me once to say it was too painful. I nodded and turned to walk back towards
the SUV.
'So the rumours about this old place don't scare you?' Michael asked, nodding his head towards the barn and the ranch house. 'It's a little creepy, don't you think?'
'Why did you decide to fol ow me?' I snapped.
'Just to ask how you're doing.'
'No real y?' I attempted sarcasm. It failed.
'Sure. And I wanted to ask, about you and my son. But I understand you're not ready.'
I swal owed hard. OK, so this was Phoenix's father, but even he didn't have the right. 'I won't ever be ready,' I told him, dead set on walking away. Michael stopped me. 'I guess I knew that. But I had to try. There's a ten-year gap in my relationship with my son and I'm determined to fil it with a few details.'
'Sorry.' This time I did set off towards the two vehicles parked along the ridge and felt Michael fol ow close behind. He took long strides and soon caught up.
'I have something for you,' he said quietly.
An older man shows me a precious picture, for the second time in twenty-four hours - this time it's Michael Rohr sliding a photograph from his pocket and holding it between trembling fingers. 'Take it.'
I held the colour print - two boys in profile, one tal , the other shorter and holding a footbal to his chest, wearing an oversized team shirt and gazing up at the older figure, giving him total eye contact. Brandon, aged
maybe sixteen, is grinning down at kid-brother Phoenix aged ten.
'Keep it,' Michael told me.
I refused the offer. 'No, it belongs with you,' I whispered. But after that ?8 decided to try to answer some of the questions.
'What was he like - my middle son?' 'He was beautiful.'
'You loved him?' 'Total y.'
<
br /> 'How was he with other kids?'
'Quiet. He preferred to be on the outside.' 'A loner?'
'At first. He was new to the school, he felt like he didn't belong.'
'But you liked that about him?'
I nodded. 'He scared me a little. I thought maybe he would look down on me. It turned out he thought I was the moody one - until he got to know me.
Michael soaked up every word I said, almost holding his breath as if this would help him store the memories more clearly. 'What was Phoenix's thing? What did he like to do?'
'He'd stopped playing footbal ,' I said with a smile as I studied the picture again - Phoenix wearing his dark hair short, with his little-boy face, his skinny arms. ' He liked listening to music, walking in the mountains, swimming in the lake.'
His dad nodded as if this was enough and he couldn't bear any more. He murmured thank you, slid the picture back into his pocket then turned away.
'Thank you,' I told him. I watched him open the door to his SUV. 'Would you like me to talk to Brandon for you?' I asked suddenly.
Michael shook his head. You wouldn't change his opinion of me, I can
tel you that for sure.'
'So wil you stick around for Zak?'
'I don't know. Maybe.' He was getting in the car, starting up the engine. Zak's in trouble with the school.'
This was news to Michael. He turned down the corners of his mouth, narrowed his eyes. He glanced quickly at me then started to reverse out along the ridge. 'I'l check that out. Thanks for talking to me.'
'No problem.' A heavy, sad feeling came over me as I watched him leave. Add one more name to the list of people wounded by Phoenix's passing. Someone like me, who didn't know how to move on.
I had to be sure Michael Rohr was gone before I walked down into the
val ey, so I waited until the SUV had disappeared amongst the aspens and the sound of its engine had died.
Then I waited some more.
Doubts crept back into my mind, like wind rustling the aspen leaves, disturbing my purpose. Why did it have to be like this, I wondered. Why couldn't I run down the hil straight into Phoenix's arms, plain and simple?
Because this is the end game, Arizona's dry, dead voice inside my head reminded me. I looked up, expecting to see her face among the bright, fluttering leaves. You do this for Phoenix, you solve his mystery and you never see him again.
Her voice became a sigh, it turned into a rustle of wind, a sound of wings beating, building, sweeping along the ridge and swooping down the hil side.
Yes, this time I knew the Beautiful Dead were back.
I walked - I didn't run. My legs felt wooden, my feet heavy as lead.
Down in the val ey the green grass rippled.
It was weird how dead spirits brought new life to this silent, deserted place. The wings beat and raised a wind strong enough to rattle the panes in
the ranch house windows, to rock the truck on its rusting axle and blow wide open the old barn door.
I ignored the house and headed straight towards the barn, my feet stil dragging, my heart thumping. I stood in the wide entrance, one trembling hand resting against the door frame, waiting for my eyes to grow used to the gloom.
They were there, in their circle, turned in towards the centre the way they'd been when I first saw them. But this time there were only four Beautiful Dead - Hunter, Iceman, Dean and my wonderful Phoenix,
emerging from the shadows as my eyes adjusted. They were al stripped to the waist, their skin pale and smooth, each bearing their death-mark tattoo.
Arizona! Summer!' I murmured. I longed to have them back, to see the soft faces of girls among the strong Beautiful Dead guys.
'We have come back from beyond the grave,' they murmured in chorus as the beating wings stormed across the yard and seemed to drive me furthepo into the dark space of the barn.
The ritual was the way I remembered it solemn and simple, recognizing their reason for being here.
'We are here to seek justice. It was a painful journey,' Iceman said. 'Hunter brought us back.'
The overlord gazed at each in turn - first Iceman, then Dean and final y my Phoenix, whose back was turned.
'He brought us here,' Dean echoed.
'For one last time,' Phoenix said. And now each of them reached out his
right hand to meet the others in the centre of the circle - four strong, curled fists touching lightly, four spirits returned from limbo.
I was under their spel , watching with held breath, standing under a wind storm of beating wings.
'Phoenix, your time has come,' Hunter murmured. 'Darina is here.'
I'm in his arms and it's real. His flesh is pale and cold against me - his cheeks, his lips. I feel his breath.
'God! ' he murmurs, sinking his head against my shoulder.
A tidal wave of relief hits me and I drown. I close my eyes, stop breathing, hold on tight.
'I was scared we 'd never do this ever again, 'Phoenix tel s me, the words tumbling out. He's kissing me and talking, kissing me again.
I 'm hanging on to him, dizzy and swaying. I can 't talk. I can 't believe it's happening at last. I look into his eyes.
We sat together on the bank of the creek, Phoenix and me. The others left us alone, giving us the precious gift of time. I held his hand and felt his cold fingers wrap around mine as we watched the clear current swirl around granite boulders that sparkled in the sun.
I gazed at the water. If I look at your face, you '11 disappear. 'I won't,' he whispered. 'Darina, look at me.'
I turned my head. His fingers were stil intertwined with mine, his eyes searching my face.
If I say anything, you'l vanish.
'I won't,' he promised. 'Darina, this is our time.' 31
My fingers held on even tighter than before. 'Stay with me.'
'I'm here. This is the way it's meant to be.' His voice was the same slow
drawl, his eyes somewhere between grey and blue, the lashes long and curved, straight brows above.
'I waited for ever. I came here so many times.' My voice was quivery and smal , my grasp ful of fear.
'It's the way it's meant to be,' he said again. 'Believe me.'
And then we were walking hand in hand away from the deserted house and barn, out through the meadow under a vast blue sky.
The crushing pressure around my heart was easing, I was loosening my grasp.
Phoenix smiled at me. 'You came back.' 'You came back!'
'I'm always here. I'm with you wherever you go.'
I felt the sun warm my face, knew that his would always be cold as death. 'I do see you here on the far side,' I told him. 'Maybe only for a moment, but I know you're here.'
Phoenix, my beautiful Phoenix, nodded. And oh my heart was racing, but not with terror. I smiled back.
'That's what I love the way your eyes soften and melt.' He put his arms around me, lifted me clear of the rippling grass and I felt the world tilt as I locked my arms around his neck and he laid me on the ground among the bright poppies, his body next to me, his lips on mine.
'There's a thousand things I want to say and not enough time.' We sat in the ranch house, face to face across the kitchen table. 'When I'm home, I rehearse it al . I plan to tel you the things I remember best, how it felt the first time you talked to me, my fluttery heart, my head not believing what
was happening.'
Phoenix nodded. 'Al I could think was "Dude, don't say anything stupid. Don't fal over or walk into the door."'
'I was so scary?'
'It took me half a year to find the courage.'
I closed my eyes and laughed. 'Idiot.' You can load any word you like with affection and it comes out 'I love you'.
'You were so cool, Darina. You could look at a guy and destroy him -
zap, he'd be gone.'
'Not real y.'
'Yeah, you could. Girls like you don't know their power.'
'Girls like me?'
'Beautiful and h
ostile a kil er combination.'
'Listen.' I reached for his hands. 'That wasn't hostility - that was pure fear. Other girls - Jordan, Hannah - they're born with the confidence gene.
They're out there saying "Look at me! " knowing that the whole world adores them. Not me. There's not a grain of that anywhere in my entire body I step out of my door each day armed and ready for attack.'
'How did that happen?' Phoenix wondered, sitting in a shaft of sunlight that fel through the open door.
'It's not hard to work out. When my dad was around, he expected a lot. Always be good, be smart. And I tried real hard. Sometimes it worked one time, when I was eight years old I won a prize for making a speech in front of the whole school. Me! I was so chewed up with nerves I didn't eat for a week. Then there were times I tried to please him and it didn't work. That's when Dad did a great job of ignoring me and making me feel like I didn't exist.'
'Yeah, we have to please Daddy.' Phoenix knew the score.
'That's the thing about fathers - you work and work at it then they leave home anyway.' This was part of the bond between Phoenix and me, I realized. We were both abandoned kids. 'I just talked with yours,' I told him hesitantly.
'I know. Hunter was there.'
Of course! 'Michael needs closure,' I told Phoenix. 'He wanted to know about us, to understand. And he showed me a picture.' Describing the photo of Brandon and Phoenix, I waited for his reaction.
Phoenix was silent, lost in his memories.
'What are you thinking?' I asked.
He glanced up at me then smiled sadly. There was a lifetime of regret rol ed up in that smile. 'I'm thinking it was a long time ago.'
I already mentioned being unhappy with the fact that Hunter had returnee &3 with such a smal group of Beautiful Dead.
'Where are the others? Where are Donna and Eve?' I asked Iceman, after Dean had come into the kitchen to fetch Phoenix, and I'd found myself wandering aimlessly across the yard into the barn, where I found Iceman chopping logs.
'They didn't come back.'
'I see that, but why? Where are they?'
Iceman let the heavy axe head swing to the ground, rested on the shaft and shook his head. 'Donna's twelve months were up.'
Listening to Iceman's short answers, I struggled to picture Donna -
always there but in the background. It was her bright-red hair that you noticed and that was al . I felt bad about not being more curious when I had the chance.