Broken Things to Mend

by Karey White

  The band began playing and Celia fell asleep to a country song about partying down by the river.

  Celia jumped when Silas knocked on the window.

  “You okay?” he asked through the glass.

  It took a few seconds for Celia to get her bearings, but then she opened the door of the car. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I was resting my eyes for a few minutes and I guess I fell asleep.”

  “It’s okay. Nancy just wondered where you were.”

  Celia got out of the car and locked it. “I haven’t been gone that long, have I?”

  Silas fell into step beside her and pulled out his phone to look at the time. “It’s almost ten.”

  “No. I slept more than an hour?”

  Silas shrugged. “I don’t know what time you came to the car.”

  “Too long ago. I hope I didn’t miss my turn at the table.” She was practically jogging to the tent.

  Silas touched her arm. He seemed tentative. “Slow down. They’re fine. You’re going to turn your ankle out here.” He let his arm drop back to his side.

  Celia took a deep breath and slowed her pace.

  The music was loud and the crowd spilled out beyond the edges of the tent. Celia had never seen a gathering quite like it. In high school, she’d gone to one school dance after a game. So many kids were moving provocatively and grabbing at each other that she’d spent most of the night in the bathroom, trying to avoid the whole scene. When she’d lived with her third, and last, foster family, they had taken her to the wedding of a cousin. At the reception, she had sat at a table and watched as the bride and groom danced together before the others joined in. The most memorable thing about that night was that the couple had danced to “Unforgettable” by Nat King Cole. Her mother had sung that song to her when she was a little girl, before the drugs made her forget she even had a little girl.

  This was completely different. The band played mostly country songs and all ages were dancing together. There were old couples, young couples and even some parents on the floor with their children. Several teenagers jumped and swayed and laughed together in the corner, and it looked like a couple of people might have even been dancing alone. Those that weren’t dancing were sitting in folding chairs clustered in groups or standing outside the perimeter of the tent. Everyone seemed to be having a good time.

  “There you are,” Nancy said when they approached a group of older women. “I thought maybe some cowboy had swept you off your feet.”

  “I fell asleep in the car.”

  “You must have been tired to be able to sleep through all this.” She swept her hand, taking in the crowd.

  “I guess so. I can take a turn now at the refreshment table.”

  “We’re both signed up from ten to ten-thirty. We’ll head over there in a minute.”

  Soon Nancy was refilling plates with goodies and Celia was putting cans of pop and beer and bottled water into the now slushy ice troughs. Out on the floor, people line danced to a song Celia had never heard. Most of them knew the routine pretty well, but when someone would make a mistake, teasing and laughter would follow.

  Celia looked around for Silas, but after he’d brought her back from the car, he’d disappeared, and she couldn’t find him in the throng.

  “Go ahead and have something, if you want,” Nancy said. When Celia dug into her pocket for her money, Nancy put up her hand. “Oh no. You get a drink and treat for working the table. Why do you think I volunteer every year?” She winked.

  Celia picked a chocolate chip cookie with walnuts and a bottled water. There wasn’t much to do at the table, but it gave her a good vantage point to watch people. She saw a woman about her age swing dancing, spinning and turning under the man’s arms, her full skirt twisting around her legs as it tried to keep up. Her partner said something and she laughed. Celia felt a pang of jealousy. He was looking at her with such affection, and she looked like she didn’t have a care in the world. What would it be like to be able to let loose and enjoy the moment like that? Celia couldn’t remember ever feeling as carefree as they looked.

  While Aunt Nancy and Celia took their turn at the refreshment table, Silas stood outside the tent in the shadows with a few of his coworkers, but he wasn’t participating in the conversation. He couldn’t have said what they were even talking about. He had looked for Celia when he arrived at the tent, ready to ask her to dance, but he couldn’t find her. He could have asked Aunt Nancy, but he knew she’d want to meddle and he wasn’t sure enough of his own feelings to put her on the case. He felt in his gut that if this was a good idea, he needed to make it happen on his own.

  When more than an hour passed and he still hadn’t seen a sign of Celia, he gave in and approached Aunt Nancy.

  “Did Celia go home?”

  Aunt Nancy looked surprised. “No. I haven’t seen her for quite a while. I thought she might have been with you.”

  Silas scanned the tent again.

  “I gave her the keys to my car. She didn’t want to carry her bag around. Maybe—”

  “I’ll go look,” Silas interrupted.

  He’d felt a wave of relief when he’d found the car and Celia asleep. Now when he thought about asking her to dance, his courage felt a little shaky. He wanted to do it, had fallen asleep last night picturing the way he’d ask her. He had even practiced the words, saying them over and over until he managed to get them out without messing up, but now that time was running out he didn’t feel so confident.

  He looked at his watch. Their shift would end any minute. If he was going to make a move, he needed to do it soon. The dance ended in about an hour and he knew it could take him that long to get up his nerve. He left the guys without a word and headed back inside the tent.

  Celia smiled at him as he walked toward the table. “Did you want something to eat? Or a drink? I had one of these chocolate chip cookies, and I highly recommend them.”

  She looked so pretty with her hair down, and when she looked at him, he felt flustered. Would he be able to get the words out? Saying them alone in his Jeep wasn’t the same as saying them here, with her looking up at him, the twinkling lights reflecting in her eyes.

  Silas looked over the food. The temptation to buy something was compelling, and he almost took the easy way out, but after several seconds, he looked back at Celia and shook his head. “I thought m—” he was stuck there for long enough that the muscles in his lips and jaw ached. He pulled them apart with effort and looked away, taking a deep breath before he tried again. “M-maybe, would you like to dance?”

  Celia looked down for a moment, and Silas felt his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He looked past the people dancing and wanted to walk out of the tent and back to the safety of the darkness.

  “Okay.”

  He looked back at her. “Okay.”

  The music was ending as Celia stepped around the table. A new song started as they walked onto the dance floor. It was a slow one, and as everyone around them came together to dance, he put his arm loosely around Celia’s waist, took her hand and began moving to the music. His efforts were a little clumsy and they moved almost arm’s length apart from each other.

  “I’m not a very good dancer,” he said.

  “I’m sure you’re better than me.”

  She glanced down at her feet, like she was concentrating on moving them the right way. She was so pretty and unsure and the familiar feeling of wanting to take care of her and make her happy swelled up in him and made him forget about his own worries.

  “You’re doing great.” He lightly squeezed her hand. She looked up at his face and a smile touched the sides of her mouth.

  “Thanks. This is the first time I’ve ever danced with anyone.”

  “Ever?”

  “Crazy, huh?”

  Silas shrugged and pulled her a little closer. Their movements became smoother as they relaxed into the song, and as the last note faded away, Silas wished the song had lasted much longer.

  “Let’s keep it here for
another one,” the man at the microphone said.

  Silas leaned his head back a little to look at Celia. “One m-more?”

  She nodded. Her hand moved on his shoulder, and he had trouble taking a deep breath. Almost without realizing he was doing it, he moved his hand farther around her back. Her blouse was soft and silky. Her hair smelled like coconut, and she leaned her cheek against his shoulder. Would she be able to tell he was hardly breathing?

  “You’re where I’m supposed to be, you’re my home sweet home,” sang the man at the microphone. Silas had wished for this—Celia’s hand in his, her head resting against him, her hair brushing against his cheek. This was what he’d fallen asleep thinking about last night, but suddenly it wasn’t enough. He wanted more, and the ache of it made him want to hold her tighter and never let go.

  “When I’m broken and need mended, when my hope is almost ended, you’re right there where I’m supposed to be.” The last cord faded out, and Celia slowly stepped away and looked up at him. He wanted her to be feeling what he was, but her face was hard to read. Was she surprised? Afraid? Finally, it settled into a reticent smile.

  “I thought you said you didn’t know how to dance.”

  Silas shrugged. “I don’t really.”

  “I thought you were pretty good, but what do I know?”

  Another song started, this one quick and lively and dancers began moving around them.

  Celia motioned toward the chairs where Nancy was sitting. “I guess I’ll go...”

  “Yeah.”

  “You want to come?”

  “No. I’ll just...” He wasn’t sure what to say, so he let his voice trail off.

  “Okay, I’ll see ya later.”

  As Silas watched her move between the dancers on the floor, he could almost feel the walls he’d built up crumbling, leaving his heart exposed and defenseless. He’d worked in the mountains alone. He’d fought fires that could have killed him. He had faced the loss of his family. But this was different. This was a new kind of terrifying.

  It was already light, but the air had a cold bite that the sun would overpower before long. Nancy and Celia were already in the garden when Silas drove by on his way to the station. He’d never minded working Saturdays before, but this morning, he wanted to be working in the garden. He wanted to be wherever Celia was.

  Both women waved as he drove by, and as he turned the corner, he looked back and saw that Celia was still watching the Jeep, although it was hard to read her expression from so far away.

  He thought he’d spend the day thinking about Celia as he drove to several trails and collected money from the fee boxes, but he’d hardly started his rounds when Jean radioed him.

  “Hey Silas, where are you?”

  “Tumalo Road.”

  “Good. We got a call that we had overnight campers at Tumalo Falls. Could you check it out?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Tumalo Falls was a day use area without proper camping facilities, but every year, there were at least a few who tried to get away with camping there.

  Silas reached the picnic area and walked along the half-mile trail to the falls, keeping an eye out for signs of tents or a campfire. Shortly before he reached the overlook, he spotted two hammocks stretched between trees about thirty feet off the trail. When he reached them, he found a small propane stove with still-warm coffee in a pan on top of the single burner. Backpacks rested against the trees under the hammocks, but no one was in the little makeshift camp.

  Silas walked back to the trail and continued toward the fenced lookout area. Water crashed over the falls, and Silas looked over the rail for a minute, admiring the majestic view. Behind him he heard someone yelling. He started back along the trail, looking for the voice. He wasn’t far from the campground when someone came crashing onto the trail.

  “We. Need. Your help.” A woman was doubled over breathing hard and struggling to get the words out.

  “What’s wrong?” Silas asked, looking around to see if he could see what had her so upset.

  The woman took a couple of deep breaths and looked up. “My husband. He’s stuck on the rocks.”

  Silas followed the woman who led him through the trees toward the top of the falls. The sound of water grew louder as they approached a drop off. “He’s down there.”

  Silas looked over the edge. About thirty feet down, clinging to the rocks as he crouched on a small ledge was a man.

  “How long has he b-been there?”

  “Since right after sunrise. I told him he didn’t have enough experience, but he wouldn’t listen to me. We’ve got to get him.” The woman was frantic and started to cry. Silas knew he’d have to get help. The man was too far down to attempt it on his own.

  “We will. Wait here.”

  Silas ran back down the trail, slowing only after he slid a couple of times and realized if he fell and couldn’t get help, the man’s life would be in danger.

  He silently prayed as he ran. Please don’t let me get stuck on my words. Jean, there’s a man stuck by Tumalo Falls. No, he’d get stuck on the m. Jean, I’ve got a man on the rock face at Tumalo Falls. There was the m again. There’s a climber trapped on the rock face at Tumalo Falls.

  By the time Silas reached his truck, he had his wording worked out.

  “Jean, there’s a climber trapped on the rock face at Tum—” Silas slapped the side of his truck as his lips crushed the m. He hardly ever got hung up in the middle of a word. Why now? Reset. The advice of the counselors at Camp Rock Ridge ran through his mind. He took a deep breath and started over, slower. “There’s a climber trapped on the rock face at Tumalo Falls.”

  The rest of the morning was spent working with rescuers as they pulled the man off the cliff. His only injuries were a few scratches and bruises, but he was pretty shaken up. Silas felt like a jerk when he cited them for camping and climbing outside the designated areas, but they were so relieved, they didn’t seem to mind.

  It had been a difficult morning, and when he finally pulled his truck out of the campground, all he wanted to do was tell Celia about it.

  Nancy worked in the garden with Celia until almost eleven when she changed for work and headed to The Stitchin’ Station. Celia knelt on the little knee pad and pulled the green sprigs next to what she hoped were the vegetables. Nancy had shown her what to remove, but once she’d left, Celia’s confidence wavered. She worked her way down two more rows, hoping she wasn’t destroying the garden.

  When her empty stomach growled, she walked to the house on stiff and tired legs to scrounge up some lunch. She thought she might return to the garden after she ate her salad, but as she rinsed off her plate, her arms felt leaden and weariness pressed itself on her. Perhaps a short nap would give her enough energy to continue working. As soon as she curled up on her bed, she fell asleep.

  “I don’t understand what makes p-people do such stupid things,” a man’s voice said in her dreams. “He could have died.”

  “Anything you want to tell me?” someone else asked. The words didn’t make sense as fragments of conversations wormed their way into her consciousness.

  “I thought you liked her.” Celia opened her eyes. How long had she been asleep?

  “I do like her, but we don’t know much about her. I don’t want you to get hurt.” It was Nancy’s voice. Celia’s sleep-muddled mind tried to make sense of what she had been hearing.

  “Don’t you want to know m-more?”

  “I don’t know if she’ll ever tell us about her past. And since we don’t know what that is, I want you to be careful.”

  “I’ve b-been careful my whole life and look at me.” Celia noticed he was stuttering more with his aunt than he usually did. Was he angry?

  Nancy raised her voice. “What about you? There’s nothing wrong with you, Silas.”

  “Shhh. She’ll hear you.” Quiet footsteps moved down the hall and stopped at the door to her bedroom. Celia closed her eyes, hoping they’d think she was still asleep. The door
squeaked softly as it closed, and when the conversation continued, the voices were muffled. Celia slipped off the bed and moved to the door, opening it very slowly to avoid the usual creak.

  Nancy gave a short laugh. “Not too long ago you were telling me I should be careful.”

  “You didn’t listen. You even encouraged m-me to come around more and hang out with her.”

  “I figured you could both use a friend, but that’s all I was encouraging. She has secrets, Silas. It’s one thing to give her a place to live and have her work for me. It’s quite another to start dating her. Hold off until we know more about her. ’Til we know if she’s even going to stick around here.”

  “Has she said she’s leaving?”

  “No. But every day I wonder if she’ll be gone when I get home.”

  Silence stretched out for a long time and Celia wondered if Silas had left.

  Nancy finally spoke. “Don’t be upset with me. It’s my job to worry about you.”

  “I know. B-but I’m not a kid. I’m twenty-six years old. You should let m-me worry about myself.”

  Nancy sighed. “It doesn’t work like that. Just take a step back until you know more about her.” There was the sound of pans banging before she changed the subject. “Tell me more about the climber. Where was he from?”

  Celia quietly closed the door and curled up facing the wall. After they had danced, she had wondered if Silas liked her. It hadn’t been an unwelcome thought. Now she knew. She also knew Nancy didn’t approve. That stung, but Nancy was right. He knew almost nothing about her, and if he did, Celia suspected his feelings would change.

  They had been planning a full evening. The parade, the last night of the rodeo and the fireworks display following, but now Celia couldn’t bear the thought. She had been looking forward to seeing Silas tonight, but not with Nancy scrutinizing their actions and worrying about Silas and probably wishing she hadn’t allowed Celia into their lives.