She's Gone: A Novel

by Emmens, Joye

Jolie looked back, eyebrows raised in a question.

  “It’s getting dark earlier. I don’t want you going home alone.”

  She walked into the restaurant, relieved that Will now knew about the forbidden temple. There were enough secrets to maintain. She didn’t want to hide anything from him. She was at last liberated from that secret.

  Will picked up Jolie that night and announced he had to go back to the office to finish an article. She followed him into the office. Lily was sorting mail at the kitchen table. She flashed Will a bright smile. It instantly faded when Jolie appeared behind him. Will headed for the typewriter in the dining room.

  In the living room, Adam, Charlie, T.J., and a few other men she didn’t recognize debated something she couldn’t quite hear. Jolie joined them. She could smell incense and maybe hashish? The discussion stopped.

  “Jolie girl,” Adam said. “You haven’t graced us with your presence in days. Where in the world have you been?”

  “Will told me she’s been hanging out with men in orange robes,” Charlie said. His boyish smile and dimples brightened her mood.

  Jolie placed her palms together pressing them lightly on her chest and bowed her head.

  “Right on,” T.J. said.

  “What are you guys plotting?” Jolie said, glancing around the room.

  “The usual,” Adam said. “A united front against capitalism.”

  “Anyone want tea?” Jolie said. A resounding yes came from the group. Adam introduced her to the guys she didn’t know. Jolie went into the kitchen and put on the kettle. Charlie followed her.

  “So tell me about this secret cult you’ve joined,” Charlie said. “Will asked me today if I’d go with you and check it out.”

  She glanced at him. His eyes were smiling. She didn’t need Charlie to check it out, but she did want to take him there. “I think you’ll like it. Meditation is better there, deeper. I release the outside world as soon as I enter the gate.”

  Lily paused sorting mail and looked at Jolie. “How’s Don Juan?”

  Jolie ignored her sarcasm. “It’s an interesting book.”

  The kettle whistled, and Jolie brewed two pots of hibiscus tea. She poured a cup for Lily without asking and set it down on the table. “Oh, thanks,” Lily said, looking up surprised.

  Jolie and Charlie carried the tea into the living room, pouring a cup of the fragrant crimson tea for Will on the way. He hardly acknowledged it, the typewriter keys flying over the page. Jolie sat down with the group.

  “So, Jolie girl, I’m dying for some of your home cooking. When are we going to get an invite or are you fasting, too?” Adam said.

  She looked at Adam and then to Charlie and laughed. “I guess it’s time to plan a dinner.”

  On the coffee table, the headline of Central Underground Press stared back at her: October 5, 1970. Janis Joplin, 27, Found Dead in Hollywood. Jolie sucked in her breath. “Janis died?”

  Three weeks ago Jimi had died and now Janis? A hollowness filled her. Why hadn’t Will told her? She moved to the stereo, put on “Summertime” and slumped on the couch. Had everyone lost their way? She glanced in at Will. Lily leaned over him with some mail, her breast brushed his shoulder. Jealousy stabbed her. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Nothing seemed right anymore.

  44

  Freedom’s Just Another Word

  The next morning, Jolie emerged from the T station into a burst of red and white flashing police lights. Fire trucks and police cars blocked the Harvard campus entrance. Her pace slowed as she walked through small groups of students milling around, talking. The entrance was cordoned off with yellow crime tape. In Brigham’s she started her shift, uneasy with the scene outside.

  A woman student ordered coffee and told Jolie a bomb had exploded in the Center for International Affairs at one in the morning. No one was injured.

  A bomb at Harvard? That was getting close. An eerie blanket of doom draped her. Bombs wouldn’t solve anything. At least no one had been hurt.

  Throughout the day, all of her customers speculated about who was responsible for the bombing. Was it the Weathermen, the Black Panthers, the students? Will picked her up when her shift was over. He sat impassive as she slid into Old Blue.

  “Do you know who did it?” she asked.

  “What did you hear?”

  “Oh, just speculation. No one has claimed responsibility.”

  “The FBI will be all over town. We have to be careful.”

  They didn’t talk the rest of the way home, both lost in their thoughts. Though they were innocent, the possibility of another FBI raid frightened her. Even with fake IDs, they could be discovered, couldn’t they?

  Jolie and her yoga friends walked out of the temple into a light drizzle. She felt light and harmonious.

  “Was that your boyfriend last week?” Molly asked.

  Jolie nodded.

  “He seemed pretty uptight,” Willow said. “We were worried about you.”

  “He’s just protective,” Jolie said.

  “Too much protection can squash your soul,” Cheyenne said, “and stifle your freedom.”

  They stopped and huddled under Molly’s oversized yellow-and-red umbrella.

  “Freedom is the most important thing that any of us has,” Cheyenne said. “You should never let it go, not even for love.”

  Jolie didn’t respond. She hugged them goodbye and set off in the light rain for work. When she glanced back, they stood watching her as they talked under the colorful umbrella. Was Will squashing her soul? He was a strong man. Dominant yet charismatic. That was one of reasons she loved him. That’s why everyone loved him. He was a pillar of strength, but she too was strong.

  The weather had turned cold and darkness descended by early evening. Jolie missed sitting on the back porch, reading. Like the temple, the porch was her sanctuary from the roommates at times. She wanted to get their own place and have Will to herself. With winter coming, the house seemed closed in.

  Jolie poured over the For Rent advertisements in the paper until she found it: a quaint two-bedroom brick townhouse close to the office. She could turn the other bedroom into a photography studio and meditation room. In the backyard, she would plant masses of flowers and grow herbs for cooking and tea.

  Jolie broached the subject with Will. “I found us an apartment.”

  “You what?”

  “I saw a For Rent ad in the paper. I’ve walked by it on my way to work a few times. It’s a cute brick first-floor apartment near here. It has two bedrooms with a small backyard and porch. It’s perfect.”

  “What’s the matter with this pad?”

  “I want our own place. We could use the second bedroom for a darkroom.”

  “You have a darkroom.”

  “We can afford the rent. I’m tired of roommates, even if they’re good people.”

  “I like it here. We have the run of the place. I know you’re safe when I’m not around, plus they love your cooking.”

  From the finality of his tone she knew the conversation was over. The vision of the brick townhouse crumbled. At least they weren’t in a commune. Her bank account was swelling and in the new year she’d try again. She sat back, silent. She couldn’t plant a garden in the winter anyway.

  In the meantime, she would focus on studying for the GED test. She would surprise Will by getting her diploma. But would she be able to pass? Every morning after he left for the office, she meditated and methodically read through the stack of textbooks Daniel kept in the dining room.

  Charlie met Jolie at the house Saturday morning, and they walked to the temple to meditate. “What can I expect at this Buddhist temple?” Charlie asked. “Do I need to know anything?”

  “No, I don’t want to influence you. Just experience it. It’s different for everyone, depending on your demons.”

&n
bsp; He looked at her. “You have demons?”

  Her face flushed warm. “Sure, everyone has something that troubles them. It may seem small to others but huge to them.” Her mom and dad flashed before her. Her demon would be giant to everyone.

  They passed through the open gate along the stone path and a peaceful feeling engulfed her. The Japanese maples glowed deep red and gold. The waterfall splashed rhythmically on the rocks in the pond. Jolie pushed open the thick door. They took off their shoes and coats in the tall entry and retreated silently across the wood floor to a meditation room. Five men and women sat on mats. Sandalwood incense burned on the altar and the Buddha statue seemed to float on white flower petals. The monk acknowledged their presence. They closed their eyes, and he led them through three oms to Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha.

  Jolie snuck a peak at Charlie. His eyes were open slightly, watching the monk. It would take him a while to get settled.

  She focused on the monk’s words. “Look inward and bring the mind home. Accept whatever thoughts arise. Acceptance reveals the good heart which dissolves unkindness, torment, suffering, and the pain within you. Draw your breath into your heart center. As your chest expands with your breath, your heart opens and expands. The hearts greatest lessons are patience, compassion, and unconditional love. Be kind to yourself.”

  Her mind drifted to her parents and the pain she had caused them. Would they have unconditional love for her? Remorse gripped her. How could she ever be free from that? She didn’t deserve to be free from it. Be kind. Be kind. Be kind. She had Will now. He was what she wanted. She drifted into her breathing.

  The monk tapped a clear note on a chime, and it rang long and pure throughout the room. Slowly she opened her eyes. Charlie smiled at her. They sat for a moment, soaking up the inner glow before rising. Silently they padded through the temple, put on their shoes and coats, and walked out into the autumn morning.

  Charlie walked to the bench by the pond and sat down. Jolie sat beside him. “I see what you mean,” he said. “It is better here. I really got lost in my mind.”

  Jolie stared at the waterfall. “I was floating, and my heart was beating green,” she said.

  “Well, don’t tell anyone else that. They’ll think you’re crazy.”

  They sat quiet for a moment, nodding to others walking by on the path leading to the street. “So there are no initiations or payments required?” Charlie asked.

  “No brain washings either. They do accept donations.”

  “I’m so relaxed. Can I come with you on Saturdays?”

  “Only if you wear a copper-colored robe.”

  He shot her a look. “Yeah, right.”

  They got up and walked back to the house. Charlie left Jolie by her steps and walked on to the office. “I’ll give Will a full report,” he called back to her. She flashed him a peace sign and smiled widely.

  In November they had their first snow. Jolie stood out on the back porch, watching it fall. She tugged Nick’s beanie over her ears and fingered the Harvard logo. The snow had accumulated quickly on the bare field behind the house. The porch light lit up the delicate flakes as they floated to the ground. Daniel, Sam, and Ginger joined her. Will was still at the office.

  “I’ve never lived where it snowed before,” Jolie said, her voice small on the dark porch.

  They looked her way in amazement.

  “It’s not winter without snow,” Daniel said.

  Nick stopped in to see Jolie every week. He usually brought her something: a used book, an aged black-and-white photo postcard of somewhere in the city, a book of poetry, a list of colleges in the area. She looked forward to his visits but never knew when he would appear. He was busy with his classes.

  “I’ll take you to the Ansel Adams exhibit this weekend before I go home for Thanksgiving,” he said.

  “You’re going home next week?”

  “Yep, I’m ready for some home cooking too. Are you going home?”

  “No.”

  “What about Christmas?”

  She shook her head.

  “When was the last time you were home?”

  “About a year and a half ago.”

  “Geez, they must really miss you. You should plan a trip.”

  She nodded, unable to speak, her throat tightened. It seemed like she’d been gone for years.

  “I have to run to class. I’ll meet you at the museum at one o’clock Saturday. Ciao.” He left her a generous tip, waved to Dimitri and disappeared out the door.

  “Ciao,” she half whispered.

  She went to Millie. “Can you keep an eye on my station? I’ll be right back.”

  Millie nodded. Jolie went into the back room, tears filling her eyes. Everyone was going home for the holidays. Other staff whizzed by in a blur. Not wanting anyone to see her crying, she opened the large walk-in refrigerator door and entered the cold room. She sat down on a cardboard box of produce and put her head in her hands. Tears flowed. The smallest things set her off now. But home for the holidays wasn’t really a little thing, was it?

  The door opened. She stood up quickly. She was cold now and moved toward the door. Dimitri walked in.

  “I thought I saw you come in here, but you never came out,” he said. He saw her tears. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Did Nick upset you?” His tone was protective.

  “No. I’m just a little homesick.”

  “Ah, I know something about that. Most of my family is still in Greece.”

  In the bathroom she washed her face in cold water and returned to her customers.

  “Are you okay, honey?” Millie said, looking into her red eyes.

  Jolie shrugged.

  After her shift, she waited out front for Will. He was late again. She finally heard the rumble of Old Blue coming down the street. She slid into the bus, shivering, and sank into the seat. He shifted into gear and started down the street. A few blocks later he turned to her. “Why so quiet?”

  She shrugged in the dark. She wanted to tell him how homesick she was but he always brushed it aside.

  “No customer reports for me tonight?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, come on. Usually you have something that happened, or you met somebody that was interesting.”

  “Not today.”

  Will glanced over at her again. She sat crumpled in the seat. “Tired?” He flipped on the radio and Ray Charles filled the air. She closed her eyes in the dark.

  45

  You Can’t Always Get

  What You Want

  Saturday afternoon, Jolie sat on the steps of the Museum of Fine Arts, waiting for Nick. She was early, anxious to see the exhibit. And she was excited to see Nick outside of the restaurant. Will would never take the time to see a photography exhibit at an art museum. Nick walked up the street with purposeful strides. His shaggy brown hair swayed with each step. A radiant smile spread across her face and a wave of euphoria filled her. If only she could hold onto that feeling forever.

  Nick paid their admission, and they moved slowly through the Ansel Adams exhibit, pausing at each photograph and discussing it in hushed voices.

  “I’ve seen some of these in books. I can’t believe I’m standing in front of them,” Jolie said. “Look at the depth, the layers of light. He captures the natural beauty.”

  He smiled at her. “He’s a master.”

  After wandering through the exhibit rooms for a few hours they looked around the museum shop and headed to the museum cafe.

  They ordered tea and sat at a corner table. Jolie turned the pages of the Ansel Adams book Nick had bought her in the shop.

  “What’s Will up to?”

  “He’s at the office, as usual.”

  “Are you happy?”

  Jolie looked into his eyes, surprised by the
question. “Happy? What do you mean?”

  “Are you happy with him? Does he treat you well?”

  Was she happy? Most of the time she felt more wounded than happy. She couldn’t honestly say she was happy. “I’m not sure.”

  “You can leave him, you know. We could be together. We would be happy.”

  Leave Will for Nick? Her mind whirled. Her feelings for Nick overwhelmed her. It would be a very different life with Nick. But she would have to tell him the truth about her age and that would lead to too many complications. She wasn’t who he thought she was. Her life was a lie. She shouldn’t even be there with him.

  “I can’t,” she whispered.

  “Jolie, I want to be with you. I know in my heart you’re the one for me.”

  She would never start a relationship with a lie. And now the lie was coming between something that could make her happy, really happy. Tears fell down her cheeks. “I can’t leave him.”

  “Don’t let him control your life. He’s not good enough for you.” He reached out and took her hand. “I can help support you in college. You don’t have to be a waitress.”

  “Will and I have been through too much together.”

  “He doesn’t deserve you. I see so much potential in you, so much love and strength, and it kills me that it’s being wasted on him.”

  She held his hand as his words cascaded down around her.

  Thanksgiving was upon them. Nick was in Chicago, Leah and Sarah were off to New York, and Ginger and Sam were headed to Nantucket to Sam’s parents’ second home. Jolie planned Thanksgiving dinner at their house for anyone not going home. Adam, Charlie, and six stray student volunteers arrived mid-afternoon. Jolie greeted them at the door in a black velvet jacket and pants. Layers of bangles jangled on her wrists and a silk-beaded headband adorned her head. The arrivals had even dressed up a bit. Charlie wore a button-down vest over a long sleeve dress shirt. Adam sported a Nehru jacket. Two of the women wore dresses, and the guys wore tweed or cashmere sport jackets that were discarded immediately.