His Name was Ben

by Paulette Mahurin

  Anguished over seeing him so distressed with his face twitching from the pressure, she appealed to him. “Maybe it would help you to face him with it.”

  He hated she had to listen to this crap about his family, and saw she was struggling to get him to consider a visit. “Sara, I can’t.”

  Stroking Tazzie’s head, she stayed still.

  Just then he was distracted by a flock of seagulls floating across the sky in harmonious formation, circling around the water’s edge. A couple of them landed. One sounded a cry and drummed its tail while the other one moved its aside. “Look Sara, they’re mating.”

  She reached for his hand without comment.

  Aware of her touch, he slowly drew back to his compassion for Sara, helping to calm his anger, lending another perspective. Maybe she’s right. Maybe it would help to talk to my father. But I don’t see that happening. How many times can I try and keep getting nowhere? All the drunken rages. No one to get through to. It’s like talking to a corpse. He felt the pulse from Sara’s wrist beating against his arm. “If it means that much to you. You’ve certainly shown me what’s possible. We could drive up and see Michael and Candace. They should be home then. They’re usually off on weekends.” His gut turned flips at the thought of seeing his parents. “And we can stop by my folks and head back on Monday.”

  Knowing this was not easy for him, “We could even head out early Tuesday morning if you schedule Zimmerman for later in the afternoon. I’m sure he’d do that for you, for us,” she smiled. “Just tell him it’s our wedding present,” was her attempt to lighten things.

  A cool breeze picked up. It was time to leave.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Asleep with a smile on her lips, Sara dreamed of a man. A bewitching mirage, his blue eyes radiating, cast a spell that echoed a forever love. She knew in her invisible protoplasm, the nucleus of her existence, she’d always loved him and the idea of him before his personification came to be. He, her heart’s desire, was her safe sanctuary.

  Then, peaceful rest was interrupted, and the movie screen froze. She tossed and turned as the subconscious images reeled onto her subliminal screen. Lying in bed, the baby heard the footsteps pounding on the wooden hallway floor outside the bedroom. She clenched her tiny legs together as the door slowly creaked open. A mere shadow appeared first, the face indiscernible. A heavy odor loomed over her small body. A night lamp by her crib cast a dim light, enough for the murky black mask to crumble away piece by piece, until with clarity she saw—Jack!

  Snuffling from her dog woke her. Watching Taz jerk and grunt, fragments of Sara’s dreaming were still present as she visualized the mental portraits of two men. The first held the same eyes sleeping next to her. With pieces of the puzzle sliding into place, removing doubt, she knew that the other one was her brother. Seeing the overlapping of then and now, she unclasped her legs, releasing the burden she had been viscerally bound by. Turning to look at Ben, it felt as if a hundred pounds of fresh air entered her lungs, cleaning out the remnant debris of the blockages that had prevented her from experiencing a vulnerable, intimate relationship before him.

  Having fallen asleep thinking of what he told her about his family, she wondered if Ben’s purging stimulated her nightmare. I can’t help feeling there’s more to learn. But what? Ambivalence consumed Sara. I need to see what happened if I’m going to fully heal. Although her body felt lighter, her mind was burdened. There must have been a lot of psychological trauma inflicted on me as a baby. Jack, what did you do to me? What am I missing? Something doesn’t make sense.

  Ben turned over, wrapping his arm around her hip, and the abhorrence she felt towards her brother was absorbed in the benediction of her communion with him. New courage sounded that she was ready to confront her demons. Your love is giving me the strength. Determined not to put this on him with everything he had to contend with, she kept her dream and realizations to herself. I’ll tell you when the timing is right. They got up and had breakfast in the room.

  “That’s nice of your brother to let us stay with him,” she reflected on the conversation Ben had had with Michael the previous night. “He sounds so supportive of our plans.”

  “Yeah, he’s happy for us. So is Candace. They’re good people. You’ll like each other.”

  “I hope so.”

  He watched her push her plate away. “You all set?”

  “Yes,” she looked around the room at what they needed to pack.

  “I’m glad we’re getting an early start to avoid the heavy traffic.”

  “Gorgeous.” Sara looked at the shoreline of coastal beauty. Sparkling jewels of sand mesmerizing her, she said, “I’m glad we’re not going to go through Steinbeck’s salad bowl inland.” The smell of seaweed and humid air filled her lungs. She felt encouraged that she was handling the trip better than expected, and was happy she’d started to gain some weight. It was the reassurance needed that she was heading into a remission. I hope you are also, Ben. Smiling, I’m holding onto the affirmation that we’re healing together.

  “Steinbeck’s one of my favorites.” A maroon Jaguar sped past in the left lane, going well over eighty. “What’s the hurry, buddy?” Watching it disappear around a bend of mountain, “Crazy drivers on cell phones, texting.”

  Having seen way too many auto accident casualties in the emergency room, she wanted to change the topic. “Which of Steinbeck’s books do you like the most?”

  “I read Grapes of Wrath last, for what must have been the tenth time. I loved Of Mice and Men, but I have to give it to the grapes. What a great story. The ending when Tom Joad is on the run and makes the speech that he’s going to tirelessly advocate for the oppressed are some of the best lines in contemporary literature.”

  “Yes, that was terrific.”

  “When I was in law school, I used it to build a case in moot court.”

  “Did you win?”

  “No,” he laughed, “it wasn’t a good legal defense for tax evasion.” He could hear his father’s criticism, You didn’t do it right!

  “That’s funny.” She caught a glimpse of a surfer riding a crest of rolling water.

  On the back seat, Tazzie’s snout pointed upward as they crossed Morro Creek, surrounded by marshy sage scrub and various shades of green chaparral. Proceeding north to Cayucos, the road turned into a winding two-lane route. “This doesn’t bother you, does it?”

  “No.”

  “Lot of people don’t like these curvy stretches but the view is spectacular.” Taking in the scenery before him lessened the twinges of resentment toward his father.

  Gazing ahead, Sara hummed the Aerosmith song she sang earlier.

  “Want to turn on the radio?” He enjoyed music, especially classical and jazz, but was not in the mood for any, preferring a quiet drive.

  “Not really, you?”

  “I’m fine. You have a good voice,” he said with his focus glued to the narrow strip of road.

  “When I was young I used to stand in front of my parents’ bedroom mirror and sing, pretending to be a Broadway star.”

  “Ever seen a show there?”

  “No, but I’d love to.”

  Knowing he would never see New York again, he kept his thoughts to himself. I don’t want to hurt you, Sara. You’ve had enough of that in your life.

  “Ben, you okay?”

  “Oh yeah, sorry. I got distracted.”

  “Anything you care to talk about?”

  “Nothing worth mentioning.”

  With the winding road behind them, they continued along the straight stretch of seaside highway to Cambria by rocky cliffs and beaches strewn with people under umbrellas. Sara caught sight of a man playing ball with a dog. “Look, Tazzie!”

  Yelping, Taz jumped up to the rear window to keep the sandy-haired pooch in view as long as possible.

  Seeing a sign that Hearst Castle was nine miles north of where they were, she said, “Can you imagine partying there?”

  “I would have pr
eferred to have been a fly on the wall. Drinking and cavorting just isn’t my thing. But,” he laughed, “on the other hand, if it were just you and me invited up for a nice quiet weekend, that I could do.”

  “The opulence boggles the mind. Living on a 40,000-acre ranch, with a zoo no less? Hearst was a piece of work.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “His political career. The hemp controversy—he wanted to make it illegal so his forests would become more valuable. His pool is lined in gold. When is it enough? Not to mention his very public affair with Marion Davis while still married to his wife.”

  “Millicent Veronica Wilson,” added Ben.

  “That’s her name?”

  “Yes. She was another interesting character.”

  “How so?”

  “Her mother ran a Tammany-connected and well-shielded house of ill repute near the base of political power in New York.”

  “You’re joking!” Her mind went off in scandalous funny images that threw her into fits of laughter. She took a swig of water.

  “I wasn’t kidding,” he smiled over to her. “How do you think Hearst felt about his mother-in-law running a whorehouse?”

  She burst into paroxysms of glee. “Stop making me laugh."

  “That sound coming out of you reminds me of the time I saw a kookaburra.”

  “A what?”

  “It makes a sound like a hyena,” he laughed.

  Unable to gain composure, she spat what she was drinking. “What is it?”

  “You like to spit water when you laugh,” he joked.

  She looked around for something to wipe herself with.

  “Tissues are in the compartment on the door. Let me know when you’re finished with the liquid and I’ll continue.”

  “Oh stop.” She patted the moisture off her face and lap. “What’s a kookoo…”

  “Kookaburra. It’s a bird native to Australia. I saw them when I was there.” Prodding her to more laughter, “They’re sexually…” he glanced over at her.

  “Sexually what?” She still couldn’t stop laughing.

  “Dimorphic.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It means there’s a difference between the male and female,” he chuckled. “A very important thing nowadays.”

  “Oh, come on.”

  “No, actually, I read that they do have different sizes and rump colors. The female is larger.”

  It took Sara a few minutes to calm down, “You saw them in Australia? When were you there?”

  “After graduating from college. I went with some friends. It’s a great place.” Seeing the speedometer approaching seventy-five, he slowed down. “I was hiking with another guy and heard this laughing. It’s really amazing.”

  “Sounds fascinating. I’ve never heard of them.”

  “You probably have but didn’t know it. Even though they’re only in a relatively small part of the world, their laugh is used in soundtracks for jungle movies.”

  “So that’s a kookaburra?”

  “You got it,” he reached over to pat her leg.

  “Where else have you traveled?”

  “Just about everywhere. I worked part-time jobs during college and spent it on travel with friends. You?”

  “Outside of several places in the U.S., I’ve been through Europe, some parts of Africa, Mexico, and Canada. I’m interested in different cultures, lands, seeing new things. It doesn’t have to be fancy, just how people live. The smiles on the people in Africa, their sparkling big eyes despite the poverty, that’s something I’ll never forget.” In reflection she continued, “We take so much for granted here.” Looking to her side mirror to see Tazzie sniffing the wind, “So many are without shelter, food and water, when there’s enough wealth in the world to help everyone have these fundamental needs met. I just don’t get why people have to suffer like that.”

  The speed now registering sixty-five, he hit cruise control. “As long as we humans have our egos, there will be suffering.”

  “True,” she looked back at Taz. “Tazzie’s enjoying the ride. I wonder what she’s smelling out there.”

  “Talk about getting needs met, probably a McDonald’s inland somewhere,” he laughed.

  “Don’t get me started again. My ribs are definitely improving. I took a lot of abuse from you with all that laughter. That was great.”

  Smiling over to her with one eye on the road, “I give good laugh.”

  “Stop it!”

  Before they knew it, they were driving by Carmel among white sand beaches, rugged rock formations, and glorious coastal Monterey pine and cypress trees. Seeing carpets of California poppies and the fleshy leaves of ice plant ground cover, “I love it here,” said Sara. “It’s a sister city to Ojai.” She went on about the town by the sea strewn with artists, writers, theaters and literary talent. “Good thing it’s not a cloudy, cool summer day, which could bring temperatures down to the fifties.”

  “True. It can get cold when the fog moves in.”

  “Can we take a detour through?”

  They stopped at a restaurant with outside seating, serving several dog owners. Ben walked Tazzie to a grassy area while Sara checked out the menu. “That’s so cute that they have a food section for ‘man’s best friend’,” she commented when he returned.

  “My kinda place,” Ben smiled.

  They had a light lunch then took a short stroll around Carmel to stretch their legs. “Look,” he motioned to a jewelry shop. “Want to go in and get you a ring?”

  Her eyes followed his to the expensive window display. She looked down at her left hand, still in the sling, and laughed. “That would spruce it up, wouldn’t it?”

  He motioned toward the door.

  “No, wait, I was just kidding.”

  “I wasn’t. Let’s do it.”

  “Oh Ben, I just love you so much. I don’t need a ring. I have you and that’s all I want. Plus, other than my watch, I never wear jewelry.”

  “You let me know if you change your mind and we’ll go shopping.” He kissed her forehead. “And about what you said…”

  “Which part?”

  “The ‘I love you so much and all I want is you’ part… Ditto, honey.”

  The sound of that from him was music to her ears. “So, tell me, are we going to have privacy at your brother’s place.”

  “If you don’t moan too loudly,” he bantered, “we’ll be okay.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Turning left on to Edgewood Drive, Ben kept his speed to 25 mph as they passed opulent residences with extravagant landscaping.

  “Expensive-looking homes,” Sara commented.

  He slowed the engine, “Here it is,” and parked in front of a stunning two-story modern ranch style with a brick-and-wood facade, opening into a small courtyard.

  “Lovely.” The camphor, liquid amber, and gingko trees instantly caught her attention. “It’s so lush.”

  “Michael purchased it several years after completing his residency, when he could afford to buy here.” Ben noticed a new roof and paint job. “He’s just renovated it.”

  On the side of the property were raised garden beds with an abundance of vegetables growing. Pointing to it, “Lot of growth there,” commented Sara.

  “Gardening is their meditation. Stress reducer.”

  “Green thumbs?”

  “Yes,” said Ben.

  Michael and his wife, Candace, also a physician, were out on the patio when they arrived.

  “What’s this we see?” In his late-fifties, of medium build, a man in shorts and a t-shirt opened the wrought iron gate to let them in. Patting Tazzie, “Hey there, girl, and,” he held out his hand, “you must be Sara.”

  Sara immediately saw the similarities between them, the facial mannerisms, their angular cheekbones, and their body gestures when they spoke.

  Michael moved toward his wife, an attractive woman with short blond hair and deep brown eyes, in her mid-fifties. “Candace, here’s our new si
ster-in-law to be.”

  “It’s so good to meet you.” Candace motioned to a patio chair. “Have a seat. We were so happy to hear the news.”

  “Thank you,” beamed Sara.

  Ben smiled, “You’ve always told me that when it’s right I’d know it. And, my sis, you were right!”

  “Don’t blow her ego up,” Michael laughed. “You tell her she’s right and she’ll use it against me as leverage.”

  “Okay, Mike, enough,” Candace smiled, accentuating her upturned nose.

  Taz, discovering the bowl of water on the ground, helped herself to a long drink.

  Watching Taz slurping, “Do you have a dog?” Sara glanced around for one.

  “We did. He passed a few months ago. Haven’t gotten rid of his things yet.” Candace continued, “We left that out for yours.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear of such a recent loss.”

  “He lived to a ripe old age, our boy. It’s never easy, is it?”

  Breaking eye contact, Sara replied, “No, it isn’t.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Tazzie.”

  “She a purebred?” asked Michael.

  “Yes.” Tapping her knee to motion Taz back to her, Sara responded, “A rescue.”

  “That’s all we’ll have,” said Candace. “Bodhi was a rescue also.”

  “More like a theft,” Ben chimed in. “He was found tied to a tree.”

  In defense, Candace interrupted, “Abandoned, dehydrated and hungry.”

  “Okay, okay, I stand corrected,” smiled Ben.

  “What’s Tazzie’s story?” Candace asked Sara.

  Appreciating how dogs create neutral ground to bring people together, Sara relaxed while she told them.

  “Bodhi Gottlieb was a chocolate lab. A big fat boy,” said Candace.

  Sara laughed at the name, and not having referred to Ben’s last name much, was curious about it. “Gottlieb, is that…”