Phoenix Fire

by Chitwood, Billy

  “Well, you will have your money. I will see to that.”

  “Myrena, please! You will hurt me even more if you try to give me money. I only told you about the ten thousand to emphasis the depth of the problem Carlton has. I could not and would not accept money from you. So, please, let that part of this whole ugly thing be forgotten. Carlton is our problem, not my money. I'm afraid that he has really dug a hole so big that he may not be able to get out. I'm talking very big money, Myrena.” Sheila saw the pain in Myrena's face. “Oh, God! I should not come here and lay all of this on you. It should not be your problem. Please forgive me!”

  Myrena had some inkling of how big those losses were for Carlton, remembering the large sums she had passed on to him … for 'investments.'

  “There is nothing to forgive, Sheila dear. Please, calm yourself. And, yes, I'm afraid I know you are talking very big money.”

  At that moment Myrena felt a sharp pain deep within her lower body. She winced, contorted and fell deeper into her chair.

  “Myrena, what's wrong?” Sheila rose and went to Myrena's side, putting her hand gently on her shoulder. “What can I do? You're in pain.”

  “Just an old age pain, my dear. Would you call Wardley? He will know what to do.”

  Sheila rushed to summon Wardley.

  The pain did not subside so quickly. It simply rolled through her with varying degrees of intensity.

  Soon, Wardley arrived with the needed medication, staying at Myrena's side until she made him go.

  “Oh, Myrena, I've caused you stress and pain. Please forgive me. I'm such a simpleton ass to burden you with this business. You don't deserve it. I just needed to unload, and now I've hurt you in the process. I don't know what I expected you to do. It is not your problem.” Sheila twisted her hands together, tears slowly appearing and trickling down her cheeks.

  “But he is my grandson. Now stop your fretting. You did the right thing in telling me.” The pain was easing. “The medicine is working. Don't worry about me. I'm a strong old girl. Just got an aging ailment, that's all. You get old, the old body starts breaking down a bit. I'm feeling better now.”

  “What is it, Grandmother Wimsley?” Sheila’s voice was tender and genuine in its caring. It was the first time she had addressed Myrena in that way. Sheila’s face wore the knowledge that this was not just an 'aging ailment' for Myrena.

  Myrena was touched and beckoned Sheila to her small but strong arms. They comforted each other for some long moments.

  It was Myrena who spoke. “Child, I'm going to be sorry not seeing you with Carlton anymore. But you're not to worry. I'm going to work on the problem you've talked about. I want you to stay in touch with me. You are like family.”

  Sheila soon left. Wardley came to the day room to assist Myrena, but she waved him away. He smiled with affection at her indomitable spirit. With the tray of uneaten finger sandwiches and lemonade in his hands, Wardley left her alone, a painful knot in his gut. She would not be with them too much longer. The trusted employee and friend felt a deep sadness with the thought and would wait until he was in his quarters before shedding the tears welling up inside of him.

  Myrena went to the parlor and stood a long time in front of the portrait that she loved so much. Then she reclined on the long sofa, placing herself so that her view of the portrait was unimpaired. She was there staring at the portrait for a long time, her mind playing themes from the long ago past. She pulled the misty old memories from the deep rich tones on the portrait's canvas. The scenes passed swiftly and poignantly before her clouding eyes.

  She and John standing at the doorway to the boys' bedroom, watching them sleep…

  The daughter who bore the boys in her cap and gown at graduation exercises …

  A wedding reception so gala, so full of hope and possibilities …

  A funeral …

  A past and present merging into a wistful place in the heart …

  Dusty, rutted roads in Mexico, the smell of frijoles, mariachis strumming their plaintive, discordant guitars ...

  A flower garden by the sea, the boys skipping along the surf …

  A camp site in the high desert …

  Carlton, Jason, smiling, joyfully playing cowboy games …

  A plot of land, scenes of family gatherings, loving scenes, faces, merging, flowing into a profusion of color …

  Tears slowly flowed down the tanned and weathered furrows on either side of her stoic face, and she slept.

  Chapter Twelve

  Carlton saw her on Central Avenue walking alongside another woman. At the corner of Central and First Street they split and went their separate ways.

  Jenny went into a cafeteria.

  As good a place as any, Carlton thought. He got out of his car and fed the meter three quarters. That should keep him legal for the time he needed.

  He entered the cafeteria and saw her in the line. There were seven people ahead of him to her place in line. That would work out fine. She would be seated when he paid the cashier, and he could just stumble upon her. He smiled to himself and edged on down the line of hungry people.

  He saw Jenny take a small table against the wall, toward the rear of the large room. Despite no appetite he chose some beef and macaroni concoction, a salad, and iced tea. He paid the cashier and, with tray in hands, walked toward Jenny.

  She had just taken a bite of her salad when she looked up and saw Carlton about to pass in front of her. They seemed to notice each other at the same time. With food in her mouth she simply smiled awkwardly, nodded politely, and deferred to Carlton.

  “Jenny! Why, it is you! What a coincidence.” Carlton's mock surprise was well played as he glanced around him, as though looking at other possible seating arrangements. “Mind if I join you? I hate eating alone.”

  Jenny swallowed her mouthful of food, attempting another awkward smile. “No, please do, Carlton. Well, this is a surprise. Heritage Tool is out by the airport, isn't it?”

  Carlton placed the plates of food on the table, discarded the tray on a wall stand, and sat across from Jenny. “Yes, it is, but they don't keep me tied to my desk out there. They allow me some freedom of movement. Actually, I had to come downtown for a meeting at the bank next door. Your agency is around here, I take it?”

  “Yes.” She began again to eat her salad. “Just a few doors down. This is my quick lunch hangout.”

  Carlton toyed with his food. “Well, I suppose the food is adequate. I rather like cafeteria food, to be truthful.”

  They made polite small talk through the lunch. Carlton watched carefully to see if he could read anything into their eye contacts. They discussed some mutual business acquaintances, and Carlton attempted some light humor. Then, he decided to make his play.

  “Are you and Jason an item, Jenny? It's none of my business, of course, but, then, I am part of the family.” He gave her an arched brow and smile.

  Jenny looked embarrassed. “Well, he's a, uh, really nice guy. He saved my life, and we enjoy very much each other's company. I suppose he's the one you should ask that question, Carlton.”

  “Well,” he decided on a bit of boldness, “surely you have discerned by now the pecking order in our family. Jason is the favored son, grandson, as it were. I'm told at times that my personality is too bold, that I open my mouth and insert my foot. And I suppose that's true. But one can miss out a lot in life if one does not take a calculated risk at times, take a leap in the dark.” He paused to watch her face and eyes for an expression, a positive response to reinforce his boldness.

  Jenny appeared only puzzled. “I'm afraid I don't understand what you're saying, Carlton.”

  “I'm simply saying that I prefer candor to tiresome word games. When I discover that there's something or someone that gives me pleasure, I go for it. You are a very lovely lady, and I hoped that we might perhaps have had a spontaneous and mutual attraction.”

  “Carlton, it's difficult to ...” clearly befuddled, Jenny began but was interrupted.r />
  “Jenny, before you respond, let me tell you something that you likely do not know. My grandmother is now an aged matriarch and she has made it very clear that Jason is to inherit the bulk of her estate.” Jenny tried to interrupt, but Carlton waved her quiet. “That doesn't bother me. She will probably leave me some crumbs. What you might want to know is that grandmother is eager for Jason to be married and she has told him so. She has an absolute fetish about it, almost to the point of hysteria. Obviously, she does not show this to everyone but Jason is sorely aware of it. In fact, he feels the weight of it almost every day.”

  “Carlton, I really don't need to be privy to all of this. My lunch hour is ...”

  Carlton interrupted again. “Jenny, I told you of my bluntness and candor. Perhaps I'm even brazen, but I like you. I would very much like to see you again, socially. But you need to be aware that Jason is using you to fulfill what he sees as an obligatory gesture to grandmother. I would not be surprised to see him even try to go all the way with you. I mean, marriage, and all.”

  “Carlton, I really must get back to my office.” Jenny stood to go. “This conversation is quite frankly baffling to me. You hardly know me, yet you relate something so personal as this. This is simply too off the wall. I'm sorry, but I must go.”

  Carlton stood as well, his chair positioned to block her way. “Jenny, remember what I said. I'm bolder and more aggressive than most men. That may be uncomfortable for you, but what I'm saying is the truth. I want to see you again. May I call you?”

  “No, Carlton, I'd rather you did not. I'm very busy with my work and I don't go out that much. Your brother is important to me, and it bothers me that you would talk about him this way. Now, will you allow me to pass?”

  “Jenny, just think about it.” He moved his chair, leaving her access to pass. “I'm aggressive but I'm not an animal. I just wanted you to know my feelings up front. Guess I thought you could get that.”

  “I must get back to work, Carlton. Goodbye.” She moved by him, unable to avoid brushing against him.

  “Think about it, Jenny,” he whispered too closely to her ear.

  Then she was gone, and he stood looking after her, a wry smile playing on his lips. What a nice sway she gave to her hips. He had to know her better. Much better. Intimately, much better. Carlton was actually pleased with the way his 'chance' encounter with Jenny had gone. Like most women, she wanted to play the game. That was fine with him. He was a great game player.

  *****

  The sunlight dazzled her for a moment as she stepped from the cafeteria and walked toward her building. It was her mind, however, that dazzled her more.

  She was incredulous and irritated. What had just happened? It was scary. Carlton Prince just by chance comes upon her in the cafeteria? He proceeds to tell her an elaborate story about Jason's motives for seeing her and about Grandma Myrena's weird fixation on getting Jason married before her death? If it were not all so bizarre she might attach some humor to Carlton's rambling. But, in fact, the episode had alarmed her.

  There was something strangely provocative about Carlton Prince. Jenny could not be sure exactly what made her dwell on the lunch encounter and what it was about the man that made her wary and also intrigued. The intrigue was part and parcel to his fallacious story and who he was … this was the brother of the man with whom she had already fallen in love.

  Carlton had a commanding presence about him. He was tall and rather handsome. His eyes were toffy colored and they gave off a devilish sparkle when he talked, an almost mesmerizing quality. His lips were the tradeoff with the eyes. If she had only watched his eyes while he talked, she might have been more beguiled, but his lips had a hard sardonic twist to them, like he was sneering at the world around him. His lips had protected her from his eyes. This musing assessment, she told herself, was not suggesting that she could be attracted to Carlton. That could never happen. She was merely giving the devil his due.

  Carlton's spiel was such a ludicrous kind of disclosure. Why in the world would a grandmother hold such a manic preoccupation? It was simply not realistic. It was in no way believable. Jenny had met Grandma Myrena and she was most certainly not the misguided matriarch with a crazed and unyielding obsession that Carlton had portrayed. No, Carlton was totally off track. More likely, he was trying to stir up a negative situation, trying to cause a rift between her and Jason. There were people like that in the world. It saddened her that Carlton would stoop to such a contemptible level of deceit.

  Still, Jenny found it hard to believe that one would have the audacity to weave such a yarn. Why would he make up such an outlandish scenario? To get her to date him? And, if he thought such a story would woo her, he was a certified loony tune and colossal ass. Did he think her a bimbo? My God! Even were such a story within the realm of possibility, why would he rush into telling her? It was insulting and insufferable. It was all too weird to contemplate. She would stand by her earlier thought. Carlton was a troublemaker. He had to be. There was no way his story had any validity and, even if it did have some truth, she would still be in love with Jason Prince. What had passed between them to this point was too real to be relegated to such rubbish.

  No, Jason was honorable and pure in his intentions from the magical and bizarre moment they met. Their eyes had conveyed their mutual feelings accurately. Jason could never be the kind of man to use a woman for any deceitful purpose. And, who could fault him even if he wanted to satisfy a wish of an aging Grandmother?

  Jenny was rather bemused with herself for giving Carlton's words so much thought time. It was absurd, silly, and not worthy of her protracted attention. Be done with it, she thought.

  As she entered her office building she knew with some certainty that Carlton Prince had not come to the downtown area for a business meeting. Oh, it was remotely possible, but she would not buy it. She had the distinct feeling she was the 'business meeting' that led to the 'chance' encounter.

  Suddenly she felt angry and used by Carlton Prince and, unaccountably, the anger passed on to Jason and Grandma Myrena. It was irrational but it was there. There was an odd sense that she was used and somehow violated by the entire family.

  Then she was angry with herself for being angry. For heaven's sake, she thought, it was just a stupid lunch, interrupted by some guy wanting to beat his brother's time. Maybe she should be feeling flattered by the attention. Maybe. But it was all so dumb, so terribly unproductive. Maybe she would start brown bagging for lunch.

  As she entered the Ad Agency she was happy when her boss handed her a new project with which to get acquainted. She was happy to have other things on her mind. She threw herself into the new ad project.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Like all good doctors, Dr. Paige could not and would not divulge patient information, could not and would not disclose the nature and scope of his Grandma Wimsley's health. Given the fact that the doctor had known Jason most of his life, the formal nature of their phone visit only agitated him more.

  Jason had vented some of his irritation. “For Christ's sake, Nelson, I've known you a lifetime, and I overheard Grandma Myrena discussing the cancer with you over the phone on Thursday night. So come off your Hippocratic high horse and talk to me. How long does she have and what can I do to make her life that's left more comfortable?”

  “Jason, you must allow your grandmother some time to come to grips with her mortality. She's a strong lady and it won't take her any time at all. I may be her doctor but I love that woman and I will honor her wishes not to discuss her health with you or Carlton or anyone for that matter, unless it is another physician. Now, she will tell you in her own time and way, just what she wants you to know. She loves you more than life itself, Jason, so just give her the love you've always given her. Just don't make a big fuss that you know something. It will only make it tougher for her.”

  That was the gist of the conversation with Dr. Nelson Paige. The good doctor and friend had in his own way confirmed what Jason already k
new to be true. His Grandma Wimsley was in the terminal stages of her cancer. What was not known was the time she had left.

  The conversation had only deepened Jason's sadness. He found it difficult to concentrate on the business laid out before him: some newly resubmitted cost estimates from contractors on 'Apple Brown Betty' and a new, lengthy report on the petitioning citizens group.

  He suddenly felt the need to talk to Carlton. He could not rationalize the urge but he trusted it.

  They were blood and family. As children they had shared some good moments and some bad. The image came to Jason now of Carlton as a child and he could see the little boy crying. Tears came in great heaves of bereavement as he unconsciously tugged at a button on his shirt until it snapped and went flying off into space. In his own no less urgent tears, Jason had reached out to Carlton, had tried to hug him, had tried to share the immutable sadness of the moment. Their loving parents had died and it seemed that their own lives were now close to some sort of terminus or an awful new beginning. Jason was more quietly, yet no less devastatingly, in grief, and he somehow sought the assurance of his older brother's love. Jason had wanted to hold Carlton, to blend their sorrows and find a way to go on. But Jason was pushed roughly away by his brother and he found new depths of grief and loneliness. Grandma Myrena had pulled him from those depths and had given him needed nourishment with her love and tenderness.

  Jason loved his brother and was sorry that the bond between them was not as close as it once was. Now, the need was there to call Carlton, to share the sadness he was feeling, to try again for a closer sibling bond. He needed for his brother to share in his misery, to know the awful news of Grandma Myrena's terminal cancer.

  Jason picked up the telephone and dialed Heritage Tool and Manufacturing.

  “Hello, Jason. To what do I owe this honor?” Carlton was Carlton, after all, and Jason was already sorry that he had called.