Between Now and Forever

by Margaret Duarte

  I was reduced to putty by Shawn’s comment. As, it seemed, was Dr. Matt. His eyes welled up and his chest expanded. Smart as Shawn was, the words hadn’t come from him. Not by a long shot. Someone else had planted them, and the thought that Shawn had allowed it, warmed my heart. “I have this field trip planned…” Might as well leap into the breach and seize the opportunity while Dr. Matt was in a receptive mood. “To the James Lick Observatory on Mt. Hamilton.”

  Dr. Matt nodded. I could have announced a trip to Mars and he probably would have reacted the same; with a nod and a blank stare.

  I pressed on. “And another to the Winchester Mystery House. I think a little inspiration is called for.”

  “Mom won’t take me to the Winchester Mystery House,” Angelina said. “She says it’s haunted by Mrs. Winchester’s ghost.”

  Angelina’s words brought Dr. Matt out of his daze. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

  On gathering up my stones, I noticed that my mouse was missing. My heart did a clumsy flip. “Has anyone seen my totem?”

  Heads shook. Tessa scrambled to the floor. “Maybe it fell off the table somewhere.”

  Nope. Someone had taken it, and I had a pretty good idea who it was.

  But I said nothing.

  For now.

  ***

  I knocked on the door frame of Dr. Matt’s office the next afternoon before class. “Hi. Do you have a minute?”

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “The field trip to the James Lick Observatory.”

  The blank look on Dr. Matt’s face was not encouraging. He gestured for me to sit across from him at his desk.

  “Since this is all new to me, I don’t know the proper procedure to follow. There must be permission slips to fill out—”

  His raised hand stopped me dead. “Sorry, no field trips.”

  “But—”

  “This after-school option is still in its infancy, and I’d prefer not to put it in jeopardy.”

  Jeopardy? “But you said I had your complete backing and there’d be volunteers for—”

  “It’s early yet, and a few issues have come up since then that I need to check into.”

  I sank into the same chair I’d occupied during my first visit to his office. What had caused the optimistic philosopher who’d hired me to turn into Mr. Caution? “What issues?”

  “Issues I can’t discuss with you at this time.”

  Okay, I could understand his restraint due to possible litigation in case of a field trip emergency. He would have to plan for an assortment of eventualities, which was nothing to scoff at. But to outright say no… “If they limit my ability to lead the class, I should at least know what they are.”

  He picked up a pen and started doodling on a legal pad. It was a Mont Blanc, a Boheme Bleu. I knew because I owned one just like it, a gift from my parents on my graduation from San Jose State. But I’d never considered bringing it to school.

  “You’ll know in time.” He eyed me with what appeared to be regret, then rose from his chair and turned to face the parking lot, still free of the parade of cars that would soon pass through to pick up students after school. His back was ramrod straight, rather impressive with the Armani suit that looked sculpted rather than tailored to fit his body. Taking his silence as a dismissal, I stood and headed for the door.

  I sensed rather than saw him turn from the window.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  I shrugged and walked out of his office.

  Funny thing, it sounded like he meant it.

  ***

  “What do you mean, he won’t let us go on the field trip?” Jason’s disappointment came as a surprise. I hadn’t realized the school outing meant that much to him.

  “Dr. Matt said no.”

  “But my dad was going to volunteer to help supervise.”

  His dad? Wait. I thought they weren’t getting along.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Ms. V. That me and my dad have issues. But he’s a cosmologist…” He frowned at Codi, who had gone wide-eyed at the news. “Cosmologist, not cosmetologist.”

  “Oh, I get it,” Codi said. “You had me going there for a second.”

  Jason shook his head and continued, “Anyway, Dad gets to apply for observation time on the Lick Observatory 3-m Shane telescope. It’s nearly impossible for kids like us to get anywhere near an instrument like that. But, if he’s able to pull some strings… I mean, think about how awesome that would be.”

  Frustration filled my chest like toxic fumes. The field trip would have been an opportunity for father and son to bond, let alone serve as a learning experience for the rest of class. “I don’t know what to say, Jason. My powers are limited here.”

  Instead of sulking, he gave me a sly smile. “Don’t worry, Ms. V, I have a plan.” He looked more wolf-like than ever.

  Codi came alive at the news. Until then, she’d seemed to be having a bad day. Her hair was stringy and lifeless instead of jelled into its usual high peaks. “Guess we’re going then, cause when Jason puts his mind to something, watch out.”

  Angelina leapt up on tiptoes and spiraled like a ballerina who’d been practicing for just such an occasion. “Go, Jason.”

  He grinned. “I’ll update you on Monday if my plan pays off.”

  Whatever he had in mind, I was all for it. Dr. Matt had been wrong in denying us this small excursion. Plus, I appreciated the way Jason was taking a stand on the class’s behalf. “In that case, why not conduct a little research on the Lick Observatory?”

  I didn’t have to mention it twice. Luke and Codi headed for the encyclopedias that were rapidly becoming time capsules filled with information meticulously researched, edited, and losing value with the mainstream. The rest of the students dug into their pockets and backpacks for their BlackBerries and notebook computers.

  No further instructions required.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  EACH DAY AT WEST Coast had so far been, and would likely continue to be, a struggle, so it was only natural that I needed a break. It wasn’t about being physically tired. I only taught one two-hour class, four times a week, and in the afternoon at that. I could sleep until noon if so desired. I could run errands, go shopping, visit my mother (heaven forbid), but emotionally I felt drained. I also missed the two people I loved most in the world. So, on Friday, it was off to the farm, over a three-hour drive, not quite with my tail between my legs, but close.

  My search for freedom to follow my own truth had ruled my life for months now. But if I were truly seeking freedom, would I have allowed seven students with special needs to pull me into their world? The fact that I’d even considered doing so was more of an indicator of who I was than all the doubts floating around in my mind. It’s difficult to say no when you see yourself reflected in someone else’s eyes.

  I pressed on the gas. Morgan was waiting.

  ***

  Morgan was waiting all right, with Joshua at Methodist Hospital in ER.

  When I arrived at the van Dyke farm, Morgan’s mother informed me that Joshua had experienced an allergic reaction to an insect bite. His leg had swollen, followed by puffy eyes, lips, and tongue. He’d complained of abdominal pain and started wheezing and finding it hard to breathe. The skin on my scalp quivered at the news, as if under siege by a thousand such insects. “Morgan meant to call you,” Carla said, “but decided against it. He figured you had enough on your plate without adding more.”

  Talk about stepping out of my ivory tower. What kind of mother would I be for Joshua if my priorities remained focused elsewhere? I’d broken free of the suppressive protectiveness of my adoptive mother and ex-fiancé, refusing to surrender my freedom for the security of having someone else telling me what to do. But for what, to what, or to whom was I now responsible? Apparently, freedom was only part of the story and half of the truth. How would I exercise my capacity for choice?

  Methodist Hospital is onl
y a thirty-minute drive from the farm, but the trip seemed to take twice as long. I counted five stop signs and fifteen traffic lights on the way, with farmers moving equipment on two-lane roads at the beginning of my journey and delivery trucks clogging multiple lanes near the end. I broke out in a sweat. “Please, God, let Joshua be okay.”

  Shell-shocked patients awaiting triage crammed the emergency waiting room. No Morgan. No Joshua. The receptionist asked if I was family. I said yes. She directed me to the emergency ward nurse’s station. The on-duty nurse led me to a curtained area where Joshua was receiving acute short-term treatment. Though the pounding of my heart seemed loud enough to announce my arrival to the entire hospital floor, I entered the small space undetected.

  Morgan sat in a chair next to Joshua’s bed, dozing. Joshua, too, appeared to be asleep. An IV bag hung from a pole with a line taped to his hand. Monitors clicked and beeped.

  A nurse whisked into the partitioned space with no qualms about waking the sleeping patient. She adjusted his bed. “How’re you feeling, young man?”

  Joshua opened his eyes and blinked.

  She checked his eyes with a flashlight, then checked the EKG monitor and wrote something on the clipboard dangling from the foot of his bed.

  Machines. Buttons. Cords. I looked for a place to sit.

  Morgan, awake now, motioned for me to take his chair.

  “Once the antivenin takes hold,” the nurse said to Joshua, “you’ll be as good as new.”

  Morgan winked at me, and I made a choking sound.

  Joshua jerked and tried to sit up.

  “Oh, no you don’t, kiddo.” The nurse eased him back onto the bed and re-adjusted his blanket. “Any shortness of breath?”

  Joshua shook his head, his eyes fixed on mine, as though I were a hero in his story instead of a bit player.

  “How’s the throat when you swallow?” the nurse asked.

  “Better.”

  I smiled at Joshua. He smiled back.

  “Stay put,” the nurse said. “Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  When I turned to hug Morgan, he drew my attention to his stained work shirt, wranglers, and boots. I leaned in and kissed him, anyway.

  “I got stung by a bug,” Joshua said, his voice groggy.

  The nurse tidied the bed, rechecked the monitor, and left the room.

  “Morgan brought me here, and he didn’t even take a shower.”

  “He must’ve been in quite a hurry,” I said, drawing closer to his bed.

  “His hands were shaking. I thought he was going to pass out.”

  I touched the place where the IV entered Joshua’s hand. “How are you feeling?”

  “Good,” he said, before veering to a subject of apparent more interest. “How’s Gabriel?”

  My heart softened at the mention of my backyard stray. “Up to his feral ways, running off to who knows where and showing up whenever he’s hungry or needs a rest.”

  “He’ll be there when you need him,” Joshua said.

  “How about when you need him?”

  Joshua gave me a smile that spoke of love and trust and the security of a supportive family. “I’ve got Morgan and” —he touched the opal ring hanging from the chain around his neck— “the totem you gave me.”

  “I’m surprised the hospital staff didn’t make you take it off.”

  He glanced at Morgan then whispered, “They tried.”

  “I wish I could’ve been here to see that,” I said filled with gratitude for Morgan’s strong devotion to his nephew and our future son. I reached for my mouse totem, intending to press it against Joshua’s fire opal in a gesture of approval, then remembered it was missing. I offered him a fist bump instead.

  Joshua gave me an ominous look I knew too well. “Don’t worry, Marjorie you’ll know what to do.”

  I shivered, not knowing what he meant and opting not to ask. “How’s school?”

  “I’m catching up fast.”

  Catching up? My insides tightened. It had taken Dr. Mendez; it had taken me; and it had taken near tragedy for Joshua to regain his voice after witnessing the death of his parents. It’s amazing he’d adjusted at all. “Any new friends?”

  “Lots,” he said before veering off course again. “The doctor said I’m allergic to whatever stung me, probably a bee.”

  I tousled his hair and leaned back into Morgan, who now stood behind me. The sudden caress of his arms—yes, despite the smell of diesel and farm work—brought relief; followed by guilt for a list of unintended offenses. “I’m not spending enough time with you and Joshua.” Morgan kissed the top of my head, sending heat down to my toes. “They can find someone to replace me.” Even as I said it, I knew this wasn’t true. Not now. Not anymore. I was invested, broken in, determined to follow it through.

  Morgan’s chuckle vibrated through my shirt to the inner wall of my chest. “Why would you do that? You just got started.”

  “But you and Joshua are doing all the giving, and I’m doing all the taking.”

  “One thing you learn fast on a farm is that nothing worth having comes easily. No short cuts, no quick fixes.” Morgan’s caress turned into a full embrace. “I’d tie you to my side if I could, selfish brute that I am. But isn’t that your biggest complaint? That I’d make you a passive figure in my dreams, instead of a partner in dreams we share?”

  “Yes,” I said, amazed at the breadth of his understanding. He’d spent four years in college before returning to the farm, but that didn’t account for the full span of his knowledge. It was probably due to all the hours he spent immersed in nature. The greatest teacher of all.

  “Has anything changed?” he asked.

  “I’d go nuts if you tied me to your side.” It hadn’t worked being tied to my mother; it hadn’t worked being tied to my ex-fiancé; and it wouldn’t work being tied to Morgan, no matter how much I loved him. I planned to give of myself freely, but I would not be bound—or limited—ever again.

  “And you’d go mad if you had to spend more than an hour confined in the same room with this little guy.” Morgan winked at Joshua. “He needs outdoor time. Even Mom and Dad say so, and they love him to distraction.”

  “Marjorie could play outdoors with me,” Joshua said, reminding me of Shawn, with his straight black hair, enormous brown eyes, and serene, caring face. Morgan was right to suspect that Joshua, too, was an Indigo. Maybe while mentoring seven Indigos at West Coast Middle School, I’d become a more informed and effective mother. The thought gave me hope.

  “And get eaten alive by venomous bugs,” Morgan said. “I don’t think so.”

  “But Marjorie likes to play with me.”

  I leaned closer to Morgan, felt him stir in response. He knew my heart was torn. But he also knew I couldn’t leave my cocoon too early. Not if I intended to fly.

  Jason The Wolf Ardis’s words came to me as clearly as the haunting voices of my mother and sister. “Is that why you won’t allow yourself to care?”

  Maybe all the things I believed the world was withholding from me, I was, instead, withholding from the world. Could it be that while Morgan was building a house with strong walls and a solid foundation, I was building a house of cards with a shallow deck from which to draw? By walking as an individual, did I risk walking incomplete?

  “You do like to play with me, don’t you?” Joshua asked, sounding less sure of himself.

  “Of course, I do, my precious. Morgan’s just teasing.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  ON MONDAY, JASON CAME to class with an announcement. “Pop talked to Dr. Matt and the field trip’s a go.” After his six classmates stopped jumping and clapping like crazed monkeys, he added, “And Pop’s arranging the whole thing. He has his work cut out for him, though. The only time slot available this month for observing the 3-m Shane telescope is this Thursday.”

  Thursday? How had Ron Ardis gotten Dr. Matt’s approval that fast? And why hadn
’t Dr. Matt briefed me about the sudden change in plans when I passed by his office on my arrival at school? Would the permission forms get sent out in time? How about signatures for excused absences? “Did your father mention how we’d get to the observatory and back?” It seemed all the field trip formalities had been taken out of my hands.

  “In a rented minibus. On his dime.”

  The class hurrahed and spent the rest of that and the following afternoon researching the Lick Observatory like mad scientists with little or no input from me, taking the concept of self-motivation to a new level. “This is how education is supposed to be,” I said. Not that anyone was listening.

  Wednesday was a repeat of Monday and Tuesday, at least for the kids. For me, it marked the day I’d first heard the voice of my dead mother. One year ago, at the site of the Lone Cypress near Pebble Beach, I heard her whisper, Sunwalker, you have come at last. And so had begun the journey that took me to Carmel Valley, Big Sur, Pacific Grove, and back to Menlo Park. Full circle, Ash Wednesday to Ash Wednesday, blustery winds time.

  ***

  On February fourteenth came the big day.

  Be it a holiday of romantic love, commercialized with flowers and chocolates; be it an offshoot of a pagan Roman feast to avert evil spirits and purify the city; be it the celebration of one or more Christian martyrs named Valentine; the students didn’t seem to notice or care. They aimed their full concentration on the trip ahead.

  Because the Lick Observatory was located over twenty miles from downtown San Jose along narrow and twisty Mt. Hamilton Road, we had to get an early start. We needed at least an hour and a half to reach our destination. No problem. Ron Ardis had arranged the whole thing, including passes out of core classes.

  Charles Lacoste would not be pleased.