The Forgotten World

by R Gene Curtis

  Pearl laughs, and she wipes at her eyes. “Wish I could say the same thing to you. You’ve put on a ton of weight.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And when was the last time that you shaved?”

  “I’m a scientist.” I was going to shower before the plane ride, but things got really busy.

  “Einstein didn’t have a beard,” she laughs again. I love hearing her laugh. “And he wasn’t nearly so fat! How do you have a girlfriend?”

  “That’s a long story.” And a question I wonder about, too.

  “Good—we have a long trip coming up.”

  We stand looking at each other for a few more minutes. Eventually, we simultaneously notice the girl with the pink hair smirking at us.

  “This has to be the strangest family reunion I’ve ever seen,” she says.

  “I’m almost ready.” Pearl sounds just like Mom as she takes charge of a situation. “Why don’t you chat with Kat here for a minute while I finish getting my things together?”

  I look over at Kat and she looks back at me. Then we sit down across the room from each other and study the vein patterns on the back of our hands while Pearl finishes getting ready.

  ✽✽✽

  The drive to Moab flies by, and it isn’t long before Pearl and I are sitting across from each other at a Pizza Hut off the main road.

  “So, you want to be an elementary school teacher?” I ask after the waiter takes our order.

  “I enjoy it,” Pearl says with a small laugh. “But, if the opportunity presents itself, I would rather get married and have a family of my own. Maybe I could teach after I raise children.”

  “You sound like Mom,” I say, and it’s true. Her expression and her words are just like Mom.

  Pearl looks away and wipes a tear from her cheek. “I miss her a lot sometimes,” she says quietly.

  I nod, and I look down at the table, stroking my beard with my hand. Has it already been four and a half years since Mom died?

  Pearl reaches out and squeezes my hand. Fortunately, it is then that the waiter brings out the pizza.

  “It’s been too long!” I bite into a big piece, anxious to put the moment of weakness behind us.

  Pearl laughs. “Do you not eat pizza often? I still eat pizza at least three times a week.”

  “I don’t believe it. You would be chubbier by now if you did.”

  “There is an important secret I know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t know if you’ll even know what the word means.” Pearl laughs and it’s contagious. She finds joy in everything. How can she laugh and talk with me like this when I’ve ignored her for four years?

  She leans forward to whisper: “Exercise. It’s this thing where you leave your computer on the desk and you move your body around. That’s a secret you should learn more about, whether you eat pizza or not.”

  She laughs so sincerely that I have to laugh with her. “How do you know that I’m not exercising regularly?” I grin and rest my hands on my large belly.

  “Just a hunch. Mom stayed thin all those years through good exercise. I think you should consider it. You need to start eating pizza again.”

  “I end up eating with my officemate for most meals, and that usually isn’t pizza.”

  “Well, I think that’s just silly,” Pearls says before stuffing another large slice of pizza in her mouth. “Give me your officemate’s phone number, so I can call him up and let him know what I think about your lack of pizza.”

  The word “she” gets caught on my tongue just in time. I’ve avoided talking about Tara since the apartment, and I mean to keep it that way.

  ✽✽✽

  The next two days fly by. The weather is cool, but nice with a light jacket. Pearl and I enjoy exploring the different arches and marveling at the beauty of the park.

  The next thing I know, I’m lying in bed on the final morning of our stay. Pearl sleeps peacefully on the other side of the room. I grab a blanket and tiptoe quietly onto the small deck. The air is cold, but I huddle down into a lounge chair and watch the sunrise, letting the light warm me as the sun slowly blankets the red landscape. I love the fresh air and the openness of the desert.

  For a moment, I consider going back into the room and turning on my computer to check on the processing jobs I kicked off before I left. Surprisingly, I don’t want to check on them. I tell myself I don’t want to disturb Pearl, but I also know that I don’t want the magic of the past few days to end. I will go back to reality soon enough.

  Over the past two days, I’ve enjoyed life as it once was, as it could have been had things turned out differently. Pearl and I haven’t talked about the past. Still, being out here together brings back so many memories.

  My earliest memories of Pearl are when we were children. When I was ten, she was four, and she always tried to come out and play with the neighborhood children. I spent a lot of time outside with the other kids.

  Andrea was there, of course. I met Andrea when I was five and our family moved to the neighborhood. She lived across the street, and as kids we played together under the large orange trees in Andrea’s backyard. We’d climb up and drop oranges on Pearl as she ran around underneath.

  Eventually Pearl stopped playing with us, and we recruited more kids, mostly boys. Andrea was a tomboy back then, and she was the leader of our little gang. We played war and had water balloon fights. We did that for years until she stopped playing with us. It happened so fast, I don’t think I even realized it happened.

  Until that night. I was 15 and walking home from flag football practice when I noticed Andrea sitting out on her porch. Instead of turning into my house, I went on an impulse to talk to her, still in my bright purple uniform.

  “You don’t hang out with us anymore.” Something about her was different that night. Her hair was down, and she had make-up on. For the first time, I realized that she was a girl. And that she was beautiful.

  “I’ve grown up,” she said.

  I remember how red my face felt as I lied, “I’ve noticed.”

  “I’ve got the worst crush on you.”

  I sat down on her porch, she took my hand, we started talking, and just like that, we were high-school sweethearts.

  A couple weeks later, I decided we should prove that it is possible to fry eggs on Phoenix sidewalks. We spent a long time sweating outside in the heat of the day, watching the egg dry out on the cement behind the house.

  I had just checked on the egg and was ready to give up. “This was such a dumb idea!” Andrea stepped forward and kissed me for the first time. I was so surprised that I jumped into the cactus that was growing by the porch.

  A kiss like that is one that you never forget.

  Neither did Pearl or Mom. Andrea was so embarrassed that she ran home, and I had to endure nearly an hour of teasing from Mom and Pearl while they pulled cactus needles out of my back.

  Things had been so good. After high school Andrea went to college in Tucson at the University of Arizona, and I went to Arizona State. I got to know the drive from ASU to the U of A very well, and we always spent our summers together.

  Everything was going to work out. I would graduate from ASU, marry Andrea, take over Dad’s business, and raise a family.

  Except for the fact that I wasn’t excited about Dad’s business. I should have been. Ever since I was a boy, I knew that I would take over his business. It would stay in the family. Dad sent me to ASU, and I worked hard, pursuing an accounting degree.

  And I hated accounting. I counted down the days until graduation, even though I had three years left. Everything changed when I took a chemistry class for one of my general education credits. The professor was amazing. His nonpareil lecture style captivated my attention, and I found myself enjoying school—well, enjoying chemistry.

  Office hours became my second home. Near the end of the semester, the professor called me to his office and suggested that I consider a career in science. “With your bright m
ind, you will make a difference for good in this world,” he told me. The words echoed in my mind.

  My life changed forever.

  As if he knew what had just happened, Dad called me home that weekend for Sunday dinner. I still remember the tension in the house that day. Dad met me at the door and took me to his office.

  “Thanks for being here, son.”

  “I’m going to change my major to a scientific field,” I blurted. “Something like bioinformatics or chemistry.”

  Dad didn’t react. Not how I had expected. He set the book he had been holding down on the table. He stared at me over his reading glasses. “Why would you do something like that?”

  I shrugged. “I love it.”

  Dad shook his head and paused as if he were about to disagree. But the only thing he said was, “I guess you’ll learn everything you need to know once you start working with me.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but Dad had some news of his own to tell me. “Your mother was just diagnosed with an advanced breast cancer.”

  Those words hit me harder than a cation hits an anion. I had been prepared for a battle with him about my major, but not this. Mom? Cancer?

  “The doctors don’t know if they will be able to help her or not. Will you move back home?”

  I remember nodding.

  Mom was in the kitchen, preparing my favorite meal. We hugged, and we cried.

  It wasn’t long before I got into the Bioinformatics program. I excelled in school, and I loved every minute of it. I knew that I could never go work for Dad after experiencing it. I loved the science—it would consume me, and I would lie awake at night trying to figure things out, putting the pieces together.

  The situation at home got worse, and I found myself working extra hours at school to avoid the high stress and raging emotions at home. The fall of my senior year I sent out applications for graduate school. I was going to tell Dad, but then he asked me to quit school. “Mom is getting progressively worse. You need to stop spending so much time with school and spend time with the family. Maybe you can go back later.”

  I didn’t do it, I couldn’t do it, and Dad was upset about my choice. I couldn’t throw away my future—not when it meant that I would be stuck with the future that he wanted for me. Dad was hurt, and Mom was too sick to smooth things over.

  Even when I got into the PhD program at Carnegie Mellon, I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t know how to broach the subject with Dad, and we barely spoke by then anyway. Mom was tired, and I only saw her occasionally. Her best hours were usually at times that I was at school, which was intense the last two semesters before graduation.

  And then it came. March 18th: the day that is forever etched in my memory. I came home from a long afternoon in the lab to find Dad sitting on a chair in the front room, staring blankly into space.

  “It’s nice for you to finally get home,” he said. “Go see your mother.”

  I took my time putting my things away, fuming at how rude Dad was. Finally, I did go and see Mom. I knocked lightly on the door, and she called me in.

  She looked awful.

  “My dear Karl.” I can still hear those words and how she said them. “I love you, son.”

  I knew at that moment that this was the end. That she didn’t beat the cancer. She knew it, too, and tears fell onto her face as I came over and cried next to her bedside.

  “My dear sweet boy.” Her voice was so soft. “How I love you! I want to be here to see you marry that dear girl of yours. But, I’m afraid God has other plans for me.”

  She couldn’t go. I needed her to explain to Dad about my PhD. I needed her to be there when I married Andrea.

  “There is something I need to tell you,” she said. “These days people think that they need to have a grand career to make something of themselves. When I was young, I was tempted to think that as well. But then you came, and I found greater purpose in being your mother than I ever did in my career.

  “Please remember that. There are many things that you can do with your life. There are great successes out there waiting for you. But now, as my life comes to a close, the decision to be your mother stands out as the best decision I ever made. Promise me, that you will put your focus on your family? Don’t get so caught up in your work and leave poor Andrea out in the cold.”

  “I will Mom. I will.” I tried to say more, but the words didn’t come.

  We looked at each other, and Mom held my hand. “I’m tired now. Come talk to me more after dinner.”

  “I will. I love you Mom.”

  “I love you too, son.” Her hand dropped and she smiled. I walked out of the room and never saw her alive again.

  I jump as the door opens and Pearl joins me on the porch.

  “Karl!” she says. “Are you crying?”

  I force a laugh. “Hi Pearl. I guess I was just remembering the last time I saw Mom.” I don’t tell her it’s the first time I’ve thought of that day since it happened.

  The surprised look on Pearl’s face vanishes and she smiles. She knows. She understands.

  “Having you here brings back a lot of memories for me, too.”

  She sits down next to me and helps herself to some of my blanket. “I have a question for you, if you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Go for it.”

  “What happened between you and Andrea? I’ve always wondered.”

  The question is so sincere that I decide to answer.

  “I was really busy my last semester of college. Between Mom’s funeral, graduate school interviews—which I hid from Dad—and trying to finish all my classes, I didn’t have much time to spend with Andrea. I saw her briefly at the funeral, and I was such a wreck then that I didn’t even talk to her much.

  “I was tired of being separated, and I wanted to marry her before we went to Pittsburgh. So, shortly after graduation I took her up to Prescott to propose.”

  Pearl gasps. “That is so romantic! You took her there all the time.” She laughs. “I thought that it must be the most romantic place in the world.”

  I smile. “Yeah, Andrea loved hiking, and it’s nice up there. We had a beautiful day, hiking around and enjoying nature. We climbed up a ridge and looked over the mountains. I kissed her and told her I wanted to marry her.”

  “So cute! You two were always so proper. I used to sit in the front room and watch you kiss her. You were always so gentle and considerate.”

  Heat creeps into my face. “I never realized you were watching.”

  Pearl just laughs. “You were always proper. Nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m still hoping a guy kisses me like that someday.”

  My face reddens even more. But, I’m not thinking about Andrea this time. I’m thinking about Tara, and the good feelings are all gone. There wasn’t anything proper about the kiss we had just a few days ago when she dropped me off at the airport. I’m glad Pearl wasn’t across the street watching then. I blush, suddenly naked in front of my sister.

  “Please, continue.” Pearl slaps my arm playfully. “At Prescott, kissing?”

  “Okay. I tried to go in for another kiss, but she asked me if I was really going to go to graduate school, and she was really upset when I said yes. I told her that I wanted to marry her first, and that I would take her with me.”

  “And she didn’t like that?”

  “She told me that professors never have time for families. I told her that wasn’t true, that I would always put her first, but she started crying.

  “She said something like ‘I don’t want to move away from my family, and I don’t want to sit at home by myself with kids while you spend all hours of the day off in school for years and years.’

  “‘We can work through all that!’ I told her, ‘We don’t have to have kids for a while. Not until we’re ready.’”

  Suddenly I can’t go on. The pain is deep; the betrayal smarts like it just happened. Pearl reaches out and grabs my hand. I’m there again, standing with Andrea on that mountaintop.
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br />   Pearl doesn’t press me, and I battle the hurt inside me for a long time before speaking.

  “That was when she told me she was pregnant,” I finally manage to say.

  Pearl gasps. “With Vince’s baby?”

  I nod, and the shame of it hurts me more than I expected. Now my sister knows what happened. That my girl slept with another guy and left me behind.

  “It was a shotgun wedding,” Pearl says, shaking her head. “I can’t believe it. And you still had to get her home. How did that work? What did you say?”

  “She ran away and called a friend. I sat there on that rock, stunned. I got home really late.”

  “Do you ever wish you had run after her?”

  “Sometimes. But most of the time not.”

  Pearl puts her hand on my arm. “I’m sorry,” she says.

  We sit in silence for a long time, until the sun makes its way over to us and I take the blanket off. Pearl stands up and opens the door to the hotel room.

  “That was the night you told Dad that you were going to Pittsburgh.”

  We both know how that went. Anger. Unkind words. A slammed door. A son that never returned.

  Pearl sighs. “Thanks for talking to me.” I stand, and she gives me a long hug. “Let me shower, and I bet we can see a few more arches before we have to head back to Flagstaff.”

  14 Reflection

  Karl

  By the time we leave the hotel, we only have a couple hours before we need to start our way south again.

  “Is it worth going back into the park?” I ask Pearl.

  “You know”—she laughs shyly—“I would love to visit Double Arch again. The hike is short, and it’s so cool in there. I bet it looks even better with the clouds that are racing through the sky today.”

  “We have enough time for that.” And so we drive through the park, past the Windows and Balanced Rock and to the Double Arch parking lot. Only one other car in the lot breaks the view of the red rock. I step out of the car and shiver; it is colder now than it was this morning. We may not want to stay long, in case a storm shows up.