Our Seas of Fear and Love

by Richard Shain Cohen

  “I’m not worried about it, dear. I just want you, and I want your parents to accept me. The entire family would be good. I’ll work at it, if it’s necessary. Promise.”

  Maureen had already soothed him. She wanted him to know she cared for him because of Brigit, though they both knew it would take time to know one another.

  They were standing in the hall in front of her bedroom door that was next to his. Before she entered, he moved toward her, placed a hand on her breast, then about her waist. “I love you. I want you.” He hesitated, “I wish . . . .”

  “I do too,” as she placed her arms about his neck, kissed him, and told him quietly, “Wait until we go away. Wait a minute. Is that the only reason to see more of the state?” She paused, breathing a bit more heavily from desire, moving back from him, whispering, “Suddenly I’m thinking of when you were in the hospital and knew I was falling in love with you.”

  “Well, that’s one answer, but what I was going to say is that I wish we could be together tonight.”

  He could not see the pleased flush and brightening of her eyes. She placed her arms about his neck. In a whisper, she told him, “Agreed.”

  They stood for a while, kissing, hugging, moving against one another, whispering adoring words. She then moved away from him, aroused, feeling heat throughout her body, that jelly feeling in her abdomen, as she described it, and the flow within her. “I think we should go to bed. We’re getting up early so we can get to Albuquerque.”

  ~

  They drove across the desert. She took him off the road to go toward Alamogordo and White Sands for a sight unlike any in the United States. He asked her to stop. They left the car and stood admiring the dunes, she still amazed by the whiteness and he captivated by the contrasting land and sky. In fact, he felt that way about the desert, the longer they drove northward. He was now driving, and he enjoyed the freedom of speeding at 70 and 80 miles an hour, thinking to himself, Were we to go off the road, we would hit nothing but sand. He slowed. The sand could wreck them.

  “Are you getting tired, Greg?”

  “No. I want to drive fast. Have you ever seen any wrecks along this road?”

  “Yes. Reckless head-ons, rarely one on the side of the road. Well, you are driving faster than I would, but that’s what the desert does to you. Sometimes people drive faster just to get over it and get where they’re going. We’re almost there anyhow. Why don’t you let me drive again so you can see as we enter the city?”

  Mountains also surrounded Albuquerque. He saw dots of houses on the mountainside. There was a train station where Indian women sold the cheaper jewelry to exiting passengers. There was the Indian Museum that she wanted him to see, as well as that at the University of New Mexico. But how much time would they have? She’d make sure they went to the Indian first. She not only enjoyed it but also occasionally bought something there, whether pottery or jewelry that she liked. She would also take him to Old Town where she liked the artistry.

  They drove to the motel she had chosen. She thought perhaps they would have dinner there. Lunch would be in Old Town. Now settled in her plans, they registered, went to their room and lay down to rest for a while. She glanced at him. “Are you tired?”

  “Nope. It’s nice to rest, though, after the drive. I like it here.” He lay on his side, looking at her admiringly. “I’m a lucky fellow, Brigit. Do you think your parents like me?”

  “Well, I know my mom does. She told me. My dad? He’s got to get used to you. They’re both a little wary of the religion thing. I hate that. You know what though? I was thinking I’d take you to church, just for a few minutes, so I can light a candle for you and me. Would you mind? We could do that in Old Town.”

  “No. I don’t mind. I’ve done that with my mother. There was one time during the war, just before I went that she took my dad, Mary, and me. James and Matthew were already gone. It was so terrible for my parents. Yours were lucky having all girls.”

  She laughed. “You think so? Well I wonder how they felt listening to us as we grew older, jealous of what one or the other had, and the screeching. It was a mad house of females. They had to have been terribly relieved when they knew the nuns controlled us and they could have some peace.” She paused. “I didn’t like the convent.” She looked at him. “Funny, isn’t it? I liked Father Emanuel who came for mass, and when he would talk to us I was always sorry to see him go. But then, I don’t know. I thought the nuns were too strict. One would hit us with a ruler when we misbehaved. And from the time when we had our first periods. Warning, warning, warning. And now you, Greg.” She made a fist and brought it lightly down on his side. “You’ve taken my chastity. I’ve sinned.” She sounded almost repentant. She lay back, thinking. Am I really damned to Hell? God wouldn’t do that to me, to any woman who truly loved. She turned to him again. “You and I have sinned, I guess; but I can’t accept that. Not when we love the way we do.”

  There was silence. Gregory reached and turned her face toward him. “Just think of one thing. I love you, and whatever we do is good.” He stopped. “Listen, we’re well in our twenties. We’re human beings. And if you want to believe in your Bible, well that’s fine. But don’t cover us with regret and sin. I don’t believe all that. You know that. And you. You could never sin, whatever sin is.”

  She smiled at him. “Sometimes I think we’re such worlds apart that I wonder what we’re doing together. Oh. This is getting too serious. I’ll ruin the trip.” She thought a moment. “But I have to tell you. My mother wondered, and I know she wanted to ask me. Then the way she looked at me. She knows, and I don’t think she cares as long as I don’t get pregnant. My dad would be furious and hate you, blame you. Greg, why can’t I stop thinking about this?”

  “I said it already. We’re a man and woman in love, pledged to one another. Don’t try to make me believe in sin.” He was obviously getting angry.

  “I just wanted to talk about the way I feel, what I think about. Maybe it’s because since I came back here and have been working at Hotel Santé. That was a mistake. I should have gone to Southwestern. I’m sorry. Forgive me.” She turned on her side again and pulled him toward her. “I’m going to kiss you and make you a promise. I’ll never mention it again. But you’ve got to let me tell you what I think. You should do that to me too. Now come here.” She kissed him and wouldn’t let go as though there were some force, a fierce sand storm, which would separate them.

  “Hold me, Gregory. I’m so glad you’re here. Hold me tight.”

  He kissed as hard as she, and they held one another firmly. When they separated, they lay looking at one another, their eyes holding them. Suddenly she laughed. “You took my cherry. Funny, I never knew there was a cherry there. Who in heaven’s name ever thought up that one? Did it taste good?”

  “Stop it. Now. Don’t even joke.” He kissed her again. “It tasted like it had been dipped in a martini. But it was seedless. What could be better?”

  They lay back laughing.

  “Do you want to go?”

  “Yes. I also want you to take me to church and the candles. I’ll have a talk with your God and tell Him to give you back your hymen – I’m a med student don’t forget – but with a condition. That place is still mine and yours to share, like mine is yours too. O.K.?”

  She got up. “That’s enough of that. Let’s go. You’ve got to see what we came for.”

  They did go to the church and then walked about Old Town, went into one of her favorite stores. He had already made up his mind he would buy her turquoise jewelry. They walked about, went into one store he liked.

  “You wait here,” he told her. After a while he came back with a package. “You may have this when we get back to the motel. There she opened the gift, a turquoise ring and matching necklace with the artist’s name visible on the larger part of the silver chain. He placed the ring on her left hand ring finger and kissed her. She then went to the mirror and placed the necklace about her neck. It hung to the top of her bos
om. He could see her delighted reflection. At first she said nothing, just feeling the charm and the love engraved within the gift, that no one would ever see or feel but she. “I’ll show it off tonight. Put your arms around me. I feel a tingle. Hmm.” She turned toward him. “You came to me from across the sea like a boy on the dolphin and fell at my feet where I picked you up and felt each sea drop that portended you and me.”

  After love and exhaustion, they fell asleep, awakening early next morning, she first, watching his face, feeling his arm, running her hands along his spine until he mumbled and woke, turned to her, smiled, “Good morning you,” as he kissed her lightly.

  “We have a long way to go so I’m blowing the bugle.”

  ~

  As they rode along the narrow road cut through the mountain that climbed toward Cloudcroft, the railway trestle surprised Gregory. It was, in a sense, a memorial to the trains that once had taken people to the town. They had passed mesquite, the tumbling tumbleweed of song, that one would see rolling along in wind blown sand. The higher they climbed, they drove by ponderosa pine, oak trees, and the aspens that did, as Brigit told him, remind him of Maine. When they came to the camping area she had chosen, it was cooler and why she had told him to bring along a jacket. He looked about at what could pass for either parts of Cape Astraea or northern Maine. He immediately felt comfortable and pleased. When they left the car and unloaded a double sleeping bag and the tent, she had an idea she would have to show him how to help. He had never spoken of camping in the woods. But he seemed quite at ease and happy. She watched him as he looked about, walked away to look at the trees, the bushes, the sky. It was clear and cool, and, in a sense, caused a little homesickness. He was happy to be here with her, breathing the air, relieved of the desert heaviness, despite having embraced what to him was this foreign part of the country where people spoke both English and Spanish, some intermingling, others keeping a separation. He found a land where the whites – Anglos – looked down on the Hispanics – Mexicans to them. The Hispanics labeled themselves Mexicans, some even sardonically joking about the word. It would be a number of years before these people would band together and begin electing their own to various political offices. The women often served as maids, as in Brigit’s house; the men, many as laborers in the fields. Yet the men had already started separating themselves from that bondage, as did a number of the women, by attending college and earning degrees both undergraduate and graduate, including medical. But this mixture of the races intrigued Gregory who liked it and wanted to know the descendents of the Spanish Conquistadores.

  “I presume you have none of that Mexican blood in you.”

  “We are all Irish. You like what you see here. Maybe someday you’ll consider coming here to live. Also, my dear, there’s a secret life hidden in me that you don’t know about that my Celtic ancestors bequeathed me.”

  “C’mon.”

  “I’m serious.” She had never spoken to anyone about this and wondered whether she had seemed foolish telling him this myth or history she imagined and often believed.

  “If you’re that serious, what is it? You don’t want to sound crazy.”

  “My parents were guided to my name by a spirit left from the past.” Now she was certain she had made a mistake. “You look at me so curiously. I shouldn’t have said anything. Now you will think I’m crazy and leave me.”

  “Well, not just yet. But it’s a good story. Is this my camping ghost story for tonight?” He looked to the sky. The heavens in the Southwest were so clear, the stars so bright, constellations so readily distinguishable. Astronomy had always fascinated him. Now here was the woman he loved telling him a tale. Here they were sitting at the entrance to the tent, and she was telling him something about herself of which no one else was aware, including her parents.

  “Tell me more about yourself,” he jested.

  “Why do you think I became a nurse? I was led to it. I’m naturally known for doctoring, curing, and helping mothers in delivery, calming them, assuring that the child is born. Don’t you think you were led to what you are doing?”

  “Well, sometimes I think about that. I’ve pretty well known it since high school. But it’s not quite the way you tell it.”

  She laughed. “Don’t you know anything about Celtic women? How powerful many of them were, goddesses, queen-goddesses, just queens, that women were highly regarded, not like we are today, playthings, our place in the home, no power. Yes, women see differently, feel differently, sense things that men can’t.” She paused, something frightening her. She would discover what it was later or in the future. “Oh forget it. I’m leading you on.”

  He thought about what she said and almost took her seriously.

  She interrupted, “We didn’t think or worry about virginity. We mated and when it was over we went to another man, or the man went to another woman. How glorious. No sin, like you and I are supposed to be living in. Ooo. I’m feeling warm and desirous. Come and get me,” Again she laughed and to herself it came again, Who is it lurking in the future? What frightened me. Another woman? Something happening to Gregory, or somebody in my family? No. I think it has something to do with me. Oh. Never. He already came to me in the hospital. I helped put him together again. He’s my love and lover. No one else. She wanted him to touch her, to assure her. She glanced upward, at the trees, phantoms against the moon and black sky, casting their shadows across them, trees she so loved, the smell, their look, their shapes. They were the women of the earth, surrounded by their maiden flowers and multiplicity of plants.

  Gregory had already placed his arm about her, but she hadn’t felt it until she looked at the trees. She turned toward him. “I’ll make supper for us. O.K.? You must be hungry. I am.” He built the fire while she prepared the food. While watching the fire and the food cooking, she looked at him. “Forget what I told you. It was a tale I heard a long time ago, probably when I went to convent school. Sometimes it was nice there, but I didn’t like it the way my classmates did. I was a pain for the sisters. Am I a pain for you – sometimes maybe?”

  “Will you keep quiet? I won’t listen to that. I suppose we’re both pains to one another occasionally. That food smells good and tells me you’re a good cook. When we get back to Boston or Maine, we have to get an apartment. O.K.? I don’t give a damn what people may think.”

  She felt warm, needed. “We will. I want that. And as soon as you finish your training, we’ll get married. O.K?”

  “You didn’t wait for me to ask,” he laughed. “Will you marry me, Brigit? I need and love you, can’t live without you. That’s corny”

  “I do love you. Let’s stop. The dinner’s ready.”

  They ate somewhat silently, glancing at one another, kissing lightly between bites. When they finished, they lay back on the softness of the pine needles, their heads on the unrolled sleeping bag, listening to the whispers of night. They turned toward one another. “Thank you for bringing me here, Brigit. I love it. I feel like this is our first home – maybe a little primitive, but we just evolved from the cavemen. And here we are, I lying beside an alluring woman. You have such a seductive body. You know that?”

  “You want to see me?”

  “You question?”

  “It’s sort of cold. Oh well.” She pulled at her heavy shoes, took off her jacket, then slowly began to undress. She unclipped her stockings from her panty corset that she pulled slowly off and then, as he watched, having hardened seeing her pubis, she unclipped her bra and slowly let it fall. “I’m here,” her voice low, seductive. “Your turn.” She watched him quickly unbutton his shirt, unzip and pull off his pants, his shoes already gone. He pulled at his T-Shirt and then his underwear shorts. She watched his hardening penis as she grew more desirous, feeling the wetness inside her. She turned for him to lie on top, then she on him. The evening was that way until they could do no more but lay completely weary, satisfied, pleased, happy in one another, their binding yielding confidence in herself and her beliefs.<
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  This was what she imagined life with him would be, not just sex, but the satisfaction and pleasure of being with one another, each helping each even when the day came and they would have their children.

  He had mentioned an apartment. She would spend the remainder of her time at home, thinking of that, helping him with his studies, working at his hospital, and being home before him, keeping their home.

  The tent was the beginning.

  As he fell asleep, she shivered, her heart beating faster at the frightening sound of a barn or ghost owl crying from a cavern, while the trees began blowing in a stronger breeze. She moved closer to Gregory to know he was hers and to hold his warmth.

  _______________

  Chapter V

  Tomorrow is Now

  They returned to the ranch where he would spend this day with her parents, telling himself he would pay most attention to her father, hoping to gain his acceptance. Gregory perhaps should have guessed that Maureen had already preceded him in the assault upon Luke’s bigoted and fearful shell. For he was afraid of losing Brigit, despite knowing that a time would have to come, if he lived through this cancer, to see her wedded and leaving the family for the East. That is where her heart lay. He had to accept that, despite her love of the Southwest. He should have known that he would never actually lose her.

  While they were away, Maureen thought of them sleeping together, assuring herself Brigit knew how to prevent a pregnancy, that she would never bring disgrace on the family. She liked Gregory. What she did not know was that the first time Gregory and Brigit lay together and he was on top of her, she suddenly and softly asked, “What if I get pregnant?” He looked down at her and told her, “Then you’d have to marry me.” She still hesitated, thought of her cycle, wondered if he had protection, though she felt it was safe when she surrendered. Later she sat on the floor, her face on his thigh, “Do you think I’m a hussy?”