Once We Were

by Aundrea M Lopez

  “The doctor just stopped by. She is doing better, thankfully. She still has that barbaric cough, but don't let it scare you. She should be alright to see now.”

  “Is this you?” Ioan asked.

  “A younger more dashing me,” Mr. Harlow smiled. “Back when I was an officer in the navy and boarded small ocean liners.”

  “Blimey.” Ioan stared at the photos.

  “What was that?”

  Ioan cleared his throat. “I mean, it's quite impressive.”

  “It wasn't much. I wasn't rich and I never got a good night's sleep on those boats, but I never said no if it meant getting back out to sea. I brought back quite a few stories for my Cora. I meant to write a comedy, but I never got around to it.”

  “You sailed this boat?”

  “Many times. She was a good ship. Top notch in her hour. Now, you'd find her in a yard, but she was my first love.”

  “I want to catch a ship like that.”

  Mr. Harlow chuckled. “One day, young fellow. Keep that enthusiasm and you'll find your oceanic mistress.”

  “My father doesn't approve of sailing.”

  “Why shouldn't he? No doubt you've got the stomach for it.”

  “Gentlemen don't sail boats.”

  “Is that so? Well, we can't help stupid,” Mr. Harlow said patting him on the shoulder. “No matter. If it's the ocean you want, the only escape is death. Desire has made us cursed men, which is why you must do everything in your power to get it. The fight may not break free today, but it's only a matter of time before you can't cage it anymore. Yet desire is hardly enough. Sometimes, we need a little luck to push us in the right direction. There's a certain tree I stroll by every afternoon, no matter the weather. It's no more than a mile from here. It is a peculiarly twisted depressing tree in the docks, who never quite escaped land to sea. Take a stroll and you may find just the tools you're looking for.” He turned away into the parlor.

  The soft chime of a music box echoed down the hall. Ioan knew he'd best finish his delivery before his father found him missing. He quietly followed the melody upstairs until he came to a dimly lit room. The music box chimed away on the bedside table as Cora slept. She must be dead, he thought. No one sleeps so soundly unless they are with angels.

  He wouldn't wake her. He slipped the oceanography book from under his coat and sat it on her beside table. He lightly placed the flowers on top. His job was done, but he couldn't leave her without expressing his regrets. He touched her soft, slender hand and kissed it gently. “I hope you get well,” he whispered. “I'm so sorry.” Her fingers locked around his. “Ioan,” she whispered softly. He met her gentle smile. “Please stay.”

  Ioan obediently seated himself at her bedside. “I never got a chance to thank you for jumping in after me,” she said. “I'm sorry I snapped at you, even though what you did really was stupid.”

  “Miss Luckett is beside herself,” Ioan told her. “She insisted I come.”

  “I'm glad she did,” Cora said. “Whatever it is she told you, it's not as horrible as she made it sound, I assure you.”

  Ioan smiled in relief. “I didn't know. I had no idea it was you I rejected for tea.”

  “You thought I'd be like her. Shame on you,” she teased.

  “Yes. I suppose. But you're a bit different than she is.”

  “Beatrice is a nice girl, once you get use to her. Somewhat haughty, but she has a big heart,” she told him. “Just buy her nice dresses. They always win her over. I'm sure you two will make a handsome couple.”

  “We're not engaged,” Ioan defended.

  “It's alright to be bashful about it,” Cora giggled. “She wouldn't stop talking about it at tea. I believe she's in love with you. You better not break her heart. I will hunt you down.”

  “She's my cousin. On my mother's side. Isn't that a little disturbing?”

  “A little, but I suppose it must be done. Nonetheless, you will always have my friendship. I owe my life to you now.”

  “Your friendship means a great deal to me.”

  “Good,” she answered. “And that's Cora to you, sir.”

  “I thought your name was Coralie.”

  “No. Cora. That's it. Nothing else. Got it?” she warned.

  “Coralie is a nice name.”

  “No!”

  “Please don't hurt me.”

  “I can't hurt you. My parents need you. They want to thank you by arranging a dinner.”

  “That's not necessary,” Ioan said. “Please tell them so.”

  “Why not?” Cora demanded.

  Ioan proceeded carefully. “They work hard to earn what money they have. I don't want them wasting it on me,” he said.

  “Are you going to reject me again, Mr. Saier?”

  “No, of course not,” he said hastily. “I suppose I'll attend your little party. And it's Ioan to you, miss.”

  “Ioan,” she corrected herself.

  “Cora?” her mother knocked lightly on the door. “I made you a stew. Oh, young Mr. Saier. I didn't know you were here.”

  “I lost the time. I should be going,” Ioan stood.

  “Well there's plenty for you too, if you'd like to stay,” Mrs. Harlow offered.

  “Thank you but I should go. Goodbye Cora.” He left the room quickly, nodding farewell to Mrs. Harlow.

  Mrs. Harlow smirked at her daughter. “Why, Cora, he's a handsome boy. A little shy, but in a sweet kind of way.”

  “We're only friends. He's going to be engaged to Beatrice.”

  “Engaged to Beatrice? She's only thirteen! And he certainly doesn't look a day over fifteen! Oh never mind it. Who knows what goes on in the empty minds of the rich? It's none of our business. Best we stay out their way. They can be dangerous folk, the rich. By the way, I was informed that Emmett and his father are attending the party.”

  “Mother, no! You know how vulgar he is! What came over you to invite him?”

  “He overheard me talking to Mrs. Derz about it and invited himself. It'd be rude to say no. Besides, there are plenty of activities to keep him occupied. Don't worry, my dear, with that dashing Mr. Saier around there is no spoiling your evening. I promise.”

  Cora held her best dress up to the mirror. She frowned and grimaced at the others. She didn't have the luxury Beatrice had to buy a new one. Secretly, she hoped to see Ioan again. She wanted more than anything for him to come. It was wrong to hope so much. After all, he was engaged to Beatrice. Nonetheless, she could still like him, secretly, and dream of him all to herself. Who could blame her for liking him? He was quite good looking and charming and sweet and everything she couldn't have. She could accept their friendship but still admire him from a distance, and he would continue to woo Beatrice. Beatrice deserved a sweet understanding husband like Ioan.

  She tried to convince herself all this, but couldn't shake her heavy heart. She gazed gloomily in the mirror. She imagined herself in a corner with her hand-me-down and Beatrice dancing in a sparkling dress.

  A faint light danced across her window. She squinted and recognized it as morse code. She saw the shadow of a little sailboat drifting in the harbor. Ioan continued to signal her window with a flashlight. She lifted it open.

  “Ioan, what are you doing?”

  “Did I disturb you?”

  “I'm getting ready for your party, which you should already be at.”

  “Beatrice's father wouldn't allow her on this boat. So I thought maybe, perhaps, you'd like an escort to the party.”

  “Right. Kill me instead.”

  “I'll have you know that I am master of this vessel and have everything under complete control.”

  “You stole my father's boat!”

  “Borrowed it.”

  “I don't believe you.”

  He grinned. “Come down. I want to show you something.”

  She looked at the water anxiously. “Oh no.”

  “Come on,” he insisted. “I'll tie you to the boat. There's no way you'll fall over.”<
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  “I'll grab my coat,” she grinned.

  Ioan waited. He wrung his fingers nervously. What if she didn't like the ride? Desperate to distract himself, he dusted her seat repeatedly and cushioned it with a life belt. He was still beating invisible dust when she appeared next to him. She cleared her throat. “Alright there?”

  Ioan looked up at her. “Rogue mosquitoes, you know, ” he said quickly, trying not to look stupid.

  “I think they're good and dead now,” she said.

  “Right. Come in. Watch your step.” He took her hand and settled her into the boat. He puzzled himself over the sailing gears. His foot pumped a pedal laboriously as he yanked at a wire. Cora shrieked as the boat trembled violently. “This is more complicated than I remember.”

  “What have you done to the boat?”

  “It is self propelled. Your father's experimented with his own motor system. How do I get this working again?”

  “What if we just row,” Cora offered quickly, hasty to avoid anymore accidents.

  “I need another man.”

  “Spoken for,” she answered, taking up an oar. “And don't give me that look. We're late as it is.”

  Ioan smiled and took up the other oar, and the two paddled the boat along. “I'm sorry I couldn't get it working. There's something deeply satisfying and exalting when you hear an engine roar. It will take us double time to get there now, but the view is not so bad.” Cora followed his gaze to see the thousands of diamonds glistening above her. A few of them tailed off into the sky. “It's beautiful. It's so clear.”

  “I've never seen so many shooting stars. I knew you'd like it. Perhaps I'm not so much a failure after all,” he said.

  The party went on without them. When they got to shore, Ioan helped Cora out of the boat and tied it to a tree. She grabbed his hand and hurried him up the path.

  No one noticed the two casually slip into the crowd, except Mr. Saier, who'd been looking for his son for the past hour. Beatrice waited impatiently to dance. Mr. Saier marched toward them.

  “Where have you gone to?” he demanded.

  The two stared at him bewildered. Both had forgotten he or anyone else existed in the world.

  “Never mind. Beatrice is waiting. Now, Ioan!” he ordered.

  Ioan turned to Cora. “This is where we part.”

  “Don't look so crushed,” Cora teased. “You're the guest of honor.”

  “I haven't had so much fun since I wasn't a Saier,” Ioan said. He kissed her hand. “I'll find you again tonight.”

  Cora avoided Beatrice's questionable glowering and went off to find another friend. Ioan greeted Beatrice politely, “Miss Luckett.”

  “Mr. Saier,” she acknowledged stiffly. He took her hand and led her to dance. “So what were you and my dear friend Cora so exclusive about?”

  “I was thanking her for this banquet. It's very kind of her father.”

  “You kissed her hand.”

  “Out of courtesy.”

  “You never kiss my hand or anything of mine for that matter. Why should you kiss out of charity?”

  “I was being polite.”

  “Then stop looking at her,” Beatrice said, pulling him around forcefully. “Your eyes are here.” She pointed at her fierce blue ones.

  Cora sat alone for most of the party, enjoying the cider and waving cheerfully at new guests. Ioan stole glances at her when Beatrice turned. Cora wasn't alone anymore. A boy about his age offered her another glass of cider and sat next to her. Ioan watched as he tried to court her with flat jokes.

  He was relieved when Beatrice asked to sit for a while. Ioan walked straight up to Cora, ignoring the scoundrel who invaded her space. “Miss Harlow, will you have this dance with me?” Ioan offered, showing off his superior upbringing.

  “Eh, scamp, can't you see we're having a chat here,” the scoundrel hissed.

  “I'm sorry. I asked her,” Ioan said.

  “What's your meaning by it?”

  “That I don't require you to speak.”

  “I ain't seen you in this neighborhood. You think I'm gona hand Miss Cora off to a spook like you?”

  “It's alright, Emmett. We've met before,” Cora told him. “I would love to dance with you, Mr. Saier.”

  “I would be most obliged.” Ioan held his hand out to her. With the grace of old money, he turned and escorted Cora away. Emmett's face burned. “Think your so tough, rich boy? Nothing but a mousy, chicken-liver wuss to me. All ya. Any of that money ever win you a good brawl?”

  “Emmett, don't,” Cora warned him. “Don't listen to him, Ioan.”

  Emmett glared. Ioan's only expression was of victory. “Charming friend of yours,” he said as he twirled Cora around.

  “He's not my friend. He's a family acquaintance. Don't look at him. He forgets himself sometimes.”

  “Shall I remind him?”

  “Please don't do anything stupid. The less trouble here the better.” She looked around uncomfortably. “Is everyone watching us?”

  “Well, you're the most stunning girl here,” he whispered. Cora blushed. “You can't say that,” she said.

  “Of course I can. Why shouldn't you outshine Beatrice now and then? Bask in it, Cora. Just bask.”

  “There will be no basking. This is highly inappropriate,” Mr. Saier cut in. “What do you think you're doing?”

  “Why, dancing, father. Just like you instructed me. May I have my partner back now?”

  “She is over there, where you should be.”

  “I prefer this one.”

  The look in his father's eyes was murder. “It's alright, Ioan. I feel dizzy anyway. Beatrice looks like she's ready again. I should probably go.”

  “Probably,” Mr. Saier hissed.

  Cora quickly walked away.

  “You're a wee too friendly with that indigent Harlow girl. She can't offer you a morsel. Not even a collection of decent genes.”

  “I'll dance with Beatrice again,” Ioan said gravely. “But don't ever speak that way about Miss Harlow, no matter how unfortunate she is.”

  “Get on with it, boy!” Mr. Saier slapped him over the head. Ioan scowled at his father. His blood boiled dangerously. He tried to keep his breathing under control, but felt he'd snap any moment. The pressure was unbearable. His eyes caught sight of Cora in the corner with Emmett again. Emmett inched closer to her. He grinned and fished a bouquet from his coat. It was the same bouquet Ioan brought her at her sick bed. Ioan snapped.

  “It won't happen again, sir,” he told his father politely.

  “No it won't,” he snarled. “We're leaving. First thing tomorrow. I knew America was a bad decision for you. You've turned rebellious since you got here. You forget whose name you carry. It's time you remember yourself and who you answer to.”

  “Yes, sir,” Ioan said quietly. “Just give me a moment.” He turned away and marched over to Emmett and Cora. “I'll show you a chicken liver wuss!” Ioan declared.

  “Ioan, no!” Cora screamed, but before she could stop him, Ioan hurled a punch straight across Emmett's jaw. The blow stunned Emmett, but after realizing who hit him, he was unstoppable. He swung his lethal fist and Ioan's nose cracked. His eyes watered. He touched the blood trickling over his mouth. All the pain and anger inside boiled over. He tackled Emmett to the floor, swinging blow after blow, but Emmett was an Irish blacksmith's son. Not a pushover. He'd spent many nights fighting off his drunken father and any fist he met in the streets. Ioan had only his fencing lessons to defend him. There was no contest. Emmett pinned him like a cat on a canary and pounded his face into the gravel. Ioan couldn't see pass the blood stinging his eyes and thought he'd lost his hearing too. He laid senseless on the ground and could think of nothing but the iron blows to his head. To call it an embarrassment was an understatement.

  “Emmett stop!” Cora screamed. “You'll kill him! Somebody stop this!”

  Mr. Harlow finally pried Emmett off Ioan. He fought to break loose and rip Ioan apart. “Someone gi
ve me a hand here! This has got to stop!” Mr. Harlow shouted. Mr. Saier sunk into the shadows, leaving Mr. Luckett to assist.

  Ioan was hardly recognizable behind his busted lip and two black eyes. Emmett took only a scratch. Emmett's father slammed his beer on the table. “Let them fight!” he roared. “They're young men! Let the rich pansy get what he deserves!”

  “That's enough, O'Riley!” Mr. Harlow snapped. “This is an outrage to my guests! Take your son and go!”

  “Oh, come now, Harlow, don't be a baby!” O'Riley chuckled, but Mr. Harlow would hear none of it. “Let's go, Emmett. Thank little Miss Harlow and wish everyone a goodnight.”

  Emmett strode up to Cora with an arrogant grin. He held his hand out to her. She refused to take it. “You won't be worrying about that milksop anymore,” he told her. “He'd be stupid to show his face around here again. All the better for ya, eh?” He turned to Cora's mother. “Goodnight, Mrs. Harlow. One day I'm going to marry your daughter. Rest assured she'll be in good hands.”

  “My daughter deserves nothing less than a gentleman. Come along, Cora,” Mrs. Harlow said stiffly, turning her daughter away from Emmett.

  Mr. Saier leaped from the shadows and grabbed his son by the collar. Ioan had one last glance of Cora. She wiped the tears from her eyes and hurried into the house with her mother. His father dragged him from the party. The moment they were out of sight, Mr. Saier slugged him across the face. Ioan cried out as his father slammed him on the ground and beat him mercilessly with his cane.

  “Get up!” he barked. “You want to fight like a man, you're gonna get back up like one!”

  “Get off me!” Ioan roared pushing away from him.

  “Now you listen here, boy! You're never to talk to the Harlows again! You're going straight to business school if I have to drag you there myself!”

  “Damn you and your damn boarding school!” Ioan cried. “I don't care what you say! I won't be your puppet anymore!”

  “You ungrateful little bastard!” Mr. Saier swung at him again, but Ioan stumbled out of the way. “You owe me everything! Your position, your prestige, your life, everything! It's all mine!”

  “I want none of it!” Ioan shouted. “I hate you and your life! I hate my life! I'd rather die poor and illiterate than be cursed with a father like you!”