by Claire Adams
"Billions of dollars at Mama Brightwater's feet," a camper was laughing to his companion.
All around the circle were comments about Xavier's suit and his shiny shoes. For a crowd that had been camping under the stars for an untold amount of time, they were certainly up to date on the latest tabloid headlines.
"Is it true that you appropriated a Native American tradition in order to make your conference calls more efficient?" another camper asked Xavier directly.
The tension around the circle was palpable, to everyone except Xavier Templeton. He laughed, "No. Though, funny enough, that article made some good points and now we might try it in the future."
Penn's employer took every jab, every attempt at an accusation, and every curious question in stride. I watched him with awe and wished I could learn his easy, unruffled responses to people. He loved the attention, even when the comments turned personal.
"You're trying to heal your shattered past," a dreamy woman in a blue dress told Xavier.
He nodded, not at all put off or defensive. "And, I'm not so foolish to try to do it on my own. Anymore. I've joined Alcoholics Anonymous."
The group was stunned by his openness, and then pleased. They showed it by nodding and moving on to other topics of conversation. Even as Xavier Templeton complained about the texture of the stew, pointed out the inefficiencies of the camp, and gently mocked their lifestyle, he was accepted.
I, on the other hand, was ignored. Too much an outsider to even be acknowledged. A few campers caught me choking down my stew. I felt their whispers more than their eyes assessing my outfit. The green sundress had seemed like a good idea this morning, but now it felt too prim and tailored.
The biggest problem was I liked the dinner. The food might have been too rustic for me, but the atmosphere was magical. All those faces glowing in the light of the campfire. I loved how the eclectic group debated and teased as they all sat together. As the conversations flowed around me, I daydreamed about what it would be like to live there. I could just give up everything and keep this peaceful feeling all the time.
Then, I remembered the last time I had walked away from an entire life. Even the warm glow of the campfire was not enough to ward off the chill I felt.
"Uncomfortable?" Alice asked me from across the circle.
All eyes were on me. "Dinner was delicious. Thank you," I said.
Alice shook her head. "Those perfect manners, they really are a detestable shield."
I forced myself to try again. "I'm enjoying myself. Your camp is very, ah, magical."
Penn stepped in before his mother could pounce. "It takes some getting used to and everyone here knows it."
Alice would not be put off. "What word did you really mean, Corsica?"
"Magical," I repeated. "The fire glow on the leaves, the hints of stars. It's very peaceful, and I like it."
"What aren't you saying?" Alice asked. "It's dirty? It's strange? You don't know why anyone in their right mind would trade the luxury of a hotel for the hard ground and the woods?"
I stood up, my eyes riveted on Alice. "Stop judging me by the way I look and dress. I've camped before, and I love camping. I spent my childhood camping and hunting and fishing. I could live out here for a week and be nothing but happy if you weren't harassing me."
"There you are," Alice said with a smile. "Hello, Corsica."
Irritation gripped me. "You were testing me?" I snapped.
Penn gently pulled me back into my seat. "Not a test. Alice just demands a high level of honesty."
The irritation turned to fear, so I was relieved when the camper on my other side spoke up. "Sometimes the clothes you wear are lies. They can cover up who you really are."
Another man across the fire agreed. "Clothes are status symbols and because of that, people often choose ones in order to project an image that is not really theirs."
"Like me?" Xavier asked. He gave me a sympathetic wink.
Alice laughed. "Oh, no. You don't get off that easy. Your clothes have always been one of the most revealing things about you."
"Good. I was beginning to think my tailor was slipping," Xavier said.
The campers laughed, and I hoped the conversation was over. Then, Alice glanced at me again. "Sometimes clothes and images are like armor. They keep us safe from letting people see too much."
"And here I thought you were making fun of me for wearing a little sundress in the woods," I snapped.
Alice appreciated my retort and picked up a light quilt. The campers passed it around the circle until Penn helped settle it around my shoulders. I was angry and defensive, but had to admit the quilt was as comforting as a hug. I wrapped it around me and kept my eyes on the ground.
It was impossible not to hear the truth in Alice Brightwater's words, even though it hurt. I did choose my clothes specifically to project an image of affluence and privilege. Most people in college had not thought twice about whether or not I belonged there. My style had gotten me jobs and promotions, things that my past might have jeopardized. I had very good reasons for the image I projected, and, Alice was right, it was like armor. Even if they weren’t designer labeled.
"There, now she looks just like every other one of you dirty hippies," Xavier said.
Again the campers chuckled at his light tone, but Alice shook her head. "How can you not want to see more, know more about her?"
"Some people like their privacy, Alice. You forget that she's a guest, not one of your disciples."
Penn slipped an arm around my waist. "It's all okay. They don't mean any harm."
I looked up at him and blinked hard. "I don't want you to think I'm a liar."
He leaned close so no one else can hear. "You're not a liar. We just don't know each other that well. Yet."
"Shh," I whispered. "Isn't the whole point to pretend like we do?"
"Exactly, and thank you for doing that." He kissed the top of my head and then cleared his throat. "Isn't it about time you start lecturing me on my tattoos, Mother?"
Alice rolled her eyes. "Yes, please, why don't you tell the circle how well your tattoos have changed who you are?"
Penn chuckled. "They changed how people looked at me, and that was what I wanted. Like you said, some people's images are like armor. Well, these tattoos are my shield."
"You can't hide who you really are," his mother said.
I ran a hand over the intricate tattoos on his arm. "I don't think they're a shield. They are such a part of you that sometimes I hardly even see them."
That confession startled Penn almost as much as me. "I thought you didn't like them."
"I hardly even see them anymore." I was amazed, but it was true.
Alice smiled at us then cleared her throat. "So, Corsica, you are starting to see Penn for who he really is underneath his image. When are you going to offer him the same? Why do you hide behind your dresses? Why do you style your hair after the movie stars and models? Why do you insist on wearing clothes like that when you'd really be more comfortable in something else?"
"Are you really comfortable in the suits you wear?" I asked Xavier in a plea for help.
This time he nodded his head. "I am comfortable in my suits. I know it seems strange, but this is how I feel most like myself."
I was jealous. Even sitting on the packed dirt at the edge of a campfire, Xavier Templeton looked impeccable in his gray, tailored suit. It didn't stop him from lounging against Alice's knee, and, he was right, he looked perfectly comfortable. My sundress pinched at the fitted waist and I felt like I couldn't take a deep breath.
Still, I had to defend myself and my choices. I needed to keep my armor in place. I stood up and shed the heavenly quilt. "I've earned these dresses, and I'm proud of them. I came from nothing; I never had anything, not even a proper name. So, I think it's perfectly normal for me to want everything."
"Your name?" Penn asked.
"Corsica," I snapped. "It's not a name, it's just a place. Corsica, South Dakota. Just a noth
ing place where I had nothing."
Alice was beside me, her thin hands pulling me into a fierce embrace. "But you kept your name. That means there is something there."
I tried to pull away from her, the hot tears embarrassing me.
Penn stood up. "Mother, I think that's enough."
"What emptiness are you trying to fill?" Alice asked, ignoring his interruption. "You've been trying and trying, but nothing's working. You must be exhausted."
It was all there, spilling over in my uncontrollable tears. My mother's illness, my father's drinking. The lonely, little, two-bedroom house on the edge of town. The broken shutters, the overgrown yard littered with rusted car parts. My mother's sweet singing as she hung up the laundry. Those long summer days way back when I believed that nothing would ever mar the beautiful blue sky or the happiness I felt.
I pushed it all back and blinked hard. Alice Brightwater was nothing but a wisp in my arms. I could feel how cancer was eating away at her strength. I knew how it could chip away at a person until they were nothing but a husk, then nothing but a memory.
I took her shoulders and pushed her back. "Stop using me as a shield," I snapped. The tears stopped and I felt a swell of frightened anger. "We're here to talk about you, about how to help you get well. You need to be considering other treatment options. You have to fight this, and to do that, you have to use every weapon modern medicine has for you."
Alice's brown eyes held mine in a long stare, but I did not look away. Then, I saw the same golden flecks glow to life that Penn had in his eyes. "Maybe it was a good thing that Penn brought you along. Good for him, but hard for you?"
I shied away from the question I knew she was asking. "I know the treatments often seem worse than the cancer, but you need to try. Your son is here to ask you to try. That's what this conversation should be about."
"My son should know better," Alice said.
The campers were drifting away to light smaller fires near their tents. A small team cleared the dishes and headed to the creek, while a smaller circle formed under an oak tree to sing songs. It was a peaceful and dreamy backdrop for a hard conversation.
I tried to step back so Penn and Xavier could take over, but Penn's arm was locked around my waist again.
Alice looked at them and sighed. "How about we take this conversation inside my home? I think I might need some herbal tea."
"I'm sorry," I whispered to Penn as we walked behind Alice and Xavier. "I didn't mean to explode like that."
He shook his head and kept his arm around my waist. "I'm glad you did. And, I think that Corsica is a beautiful name, no matter where it came from."
For a moment, my entire past was on the tip of my tongue, then Penn swept open the curtain of scarves and we were ensconced in Alice's cozy yurt.
She wasted no time in shutting down the conversation about her cancer treatment. "I am a healer. I heal people's thoughts and their bodies. Why would I set that aside when it comes to me personally? How can you ask me to wither away in a hospital, rather than staying here and doing what I love until I die?"
I tugged Penn's beard, and he leaned down so I could whisper in his ear. "There's a treatment center specifically for breast cancer in Monterey. She should at least go there for a consult."
"Why does she think she knows better than me?" Alice snapped.
Her dark eyes challenged me, but I refused to share any more of my personal experiences.
"Corsica was telling me about a breast cancer treatment center in Monterey. Mother, why don't you come back with us and at least have a consult there." Penn's voice had a pleading tone.
"You really had to bring them here?" Alice turned on Xavier. "You couldn't just be content to disrupt my peace on your own. And now look, you've upset Penn's peace as well."
Xavier gestured to Penn's arm comfortably around my waist. "I think he looks better than I've seen him in a long time. And, Corsica is just trying to help."
I couldn't stay quiet. "You're underestimating people you don't even know," I said. "Treatment centers like the one in Monterey are all-inclusive. They've seen so many cases of cancer that they are the last people to turn away new approaches or new ideas. You can tailor your own treatment and it can include everything you have here, as well as modern techniques."
Alice looked at her son, then Xavier. For all her bravado and confidence, she was tired. Xavier jumped forward to catch her, but she refused to sit down. The same stubborn pride I had seen in Penn surrounded Alice like a glow.
She patted Xavier's hand. "All right. Fine. I don't want to underestimate other healers."
"I'll make the appointment for you," Penn said. He let go of me and took his mother's hand.
Alice caught my eyes and held them for a long moment. Then, she smiled. "I will make a deal. For my part, I will go to this treatment center and sit through a consult. I'm not promising anything, but I'm going to argue with them as much as I want."
Penn laughed. "Of course. I'll warn them when I make the appointment."
"What's the other half of the deal?" Xavier asked.
Alice brushed the men back and took both my hands. She drew me out of the yurt and up a small hill to a clearing. Xavier and Penn followed, but stopped when Alice held up an imperious hand. "The only thing I ask in return is that Corsica stands here and finds a way to reveal herself."
I laughed and the buoyant sound bounced off the hills. "Done."
Alice was surprised and took a step back. I waited until Xavier held her steady and then I let loose the long, suspended first note of my favorite song. It reverberated through the oak groves and up into the night sky.
"Day by day / I'm falling more in love with you…"
I didn’t stop even when the campers ringed around the clearing to stare. The song swelled and I let it sweep through me and take everything from me. I didn't stop even when tears rolled down Alice's cheeks. I sang for her with everything I had and knew it was more than she had ever bargained for.
#
The campers drifted away as the last note faded. Xavier finally convinced Alice to return to her yurt to rest. Soon, it was just Penn and I in the small grove. He stood in the shadows, but I could still feel his eyes on me. Moonlight filtered down to where I stood like a spotlight. Normally, being so visible made me nervous, but just then I felt free.
"Thank you," he said.
"For what? That felt wonderful."
Penn chuckled and joined me in the moonlit center of the clearing. "Thanks for putting Alice down a peg. The shock on her face was worth it."
"Worth bringing a perfect stranger along on a very personal trip?"
"I think you can stop calling us perfect strangers, Corsica from South Dakota."
I shrugged that comment away. "Do you think your mother will hold up her end of the bargain?"
"Alice is nothing if not honest. She'll go to the consultation and probably give them hell."
I took Penn's hand and squeezed. "Good. Then this whole crazy trip was worth it."
"I know I'm a coward," he sighed. "I shouldn't have put all of this on you. I'm not very good at facing up to my screwed up family."
"Are you kidding?" I asked. "I haven't seen you shy away from a single thing. I wish I had the courage you do. I mean, you just got terrible news and it hasn't stopped you from moving forward. Most people would still be curled up in a ball trying to process it."
Penn shrugged and didn't release my hand. "Moving forward is what I do best, except my mother calls it running away."
"Is it bad that I loved the way her jaw dropped when I said 'done?' It felt really good to beat her at her own game," I admitted.
His laugh warmed me from the inside out. "You know what you are? A sleeper. Everyone thinks you're one way, the prim and proper and good girl image you've got. Then, wham! You hit him with that voice of yours. It's like a super power. Alice had no idea you had that in you. Did you see how she stepped back before you were even done with the first note? That was amaz
ing."
I slipped my hand from his. "I shouldn't have done that. It was petty to show her up. I wish I was more like you and didn't care what people thought of me. Then I wouldn't have let Alice get under my skin."
"I care what people think about me," Penn confessed. "Not everyone, but you're a different story."
I sighed. "I don't want to be different."
Penn slipped both hands around my waist. "You're different because I care what you think about me. I care more than you think."
I wasn't prepared for the kiss, but even if I had seen it coming, I wouldn't have known what to do. Penn's lips were as hot as a candle flame and they ignited me. I reached up on my tiptoes to answer his urgent press and our breath tangled over breathless sighs. I couldn't subdue the fiery moan that escaped me when his tongue traced my bottom lip.
His arms encircled me tighter, lifted me from the ground, and I slipped my arms around his neck. If I didn't hold on, I was sure I would fly off into the night sky like smoke.
For one, soft moment, Penn pulled back so his dark eyes could search mine. I saw the golden flecks glowing in his look and I had no other answer than to pull him into another searing kiss.
My body molded to his, every hard contour of his muscles melting me against him. He felt like hard-packed earth warmed in the sun, and his kiss tasted of fresh air and campfire. I tasted him, devoured him, and felt his jagged breath as my teeth nipped his wide lower lip.
"We're not strangers," Penn murmured against my insistent mouth.
I pulled back and gave him a wicked grin. "But this is our first time."
He groaned and tangled one strong hand in my hair. Penn pulled my head back and dove into a deep kiss that left me breathless and melted against him. When he bent over and let my toes touch the ground again, I pulled him with me. We stumbled onto the soft grass, and I saw the stars spin above us.
Then Penn's hands were on my body and everything faded under the heat of his touch. I arched my back up as his hands skimmed the thin sundress and found my breasts pressing against the low neckline. One thumb brushed over my already aching nipple, causing me to cry out with the startling pleasure. Penn caught my cries in deeper kisses, and I tangled both hands in his shaggy hair.