Tessa’s mind is spinning. Madeline says nothing.
“I don’t understand. Why stay married? Why did any of you stay married?”
“Don’t judge us too harshly, honey. Things were really different even a few years ago. In the sixties and seventies, there were groups of women who would have parties, like for birthdays and they wouldn’t even admit among themselves that they were couples. At least the groups that Sadie and I, and Dan and Percy would socialize with, we all admitted our couple-ness. It was like, when we all got together, we suddenly had more air to breathe. Sadie thought about burning all that stuff. The photos and the journals.”
“I’m glad she didn’t.”
“Dan and Percy strongly recommended she should.”
“I’m really glad she didn’t.”
“Dan and Percy told her it would only hurt other’s feelings if they read them.”
They sit quietly for a few moments.
“Things haven’t changed for generations, then, it seems like a ski ride. Imagine riding in a horse and buggy when suddenly, civilization decides to hop in a luge. I can’t believe how fast it has changed. A Pope as loving, humble, and intelligent as the one now? I’m still catching my breath. The truth is, we all really loved each other and cared about each other. As Dan said, we had no crystal ball to know who would be left standing and economically, it just made sense, because no matter what, we wanted everyone to enjoy their end of life, lovingly.”
“And in your own way, you paved the way for all of us.”
“In our own way, I guess, we did.”
“And you knew I was considered two spirit?”
“I always knew you as Tessa. No more, no less. Do you believe you are two?”
“No. I am not two. I am one. I have always felt the way I am now. My body didn’t always match, but inside, always who I am now. No different. Maybe I got caught in the transporter room? The lower half belonging to someone else?”
“Star Trek? What do you know about Star Trek?”
“I’m a big fan of the classic Star Trek. Like the DVD episode Great Aunt Sadie has of Deep Space Nine “The Kiss.” And even the old, old TV Star Trek.”
“Mmm. Did you ever see the episode of Uhura and Kirk kissing? That was another first kiss, interracial on TV. That one made conservative heads explode back in the day.” Madeline chuckles. “My, it’s good we’ve come a long way. I’m lucky to see it.”
“Now that gay marriage is legal, would you and Great Aunt Sadie . . . ?”
“We actually did. We flew to Hawaii three years ago.”
“You’re a bigamist.”
“I prefer to think of it as a widow, who is still married.”
“You said the first time is always the hardest. Is that true?”
“Only because of age. Each loss is different, but don’t be afraid to fall in love again. Please. Don’t let what you had with Dina spoil what you can have with someone else. Having a broken heart means breaking it wide open.”
Tessa tries to replace the stabbing pain she’s experiencing in her bones with the more positive airy-fairy idea. She decides it will take her some time. “It hurts horribly.”
“None of your surgeries were easy, either. Did that pain last?”
“No.” She considers. “The only pain that stayed is the one I swallowed and didn’t remember till yesterday.”
“A good reason to accept grief as it comes.”
Tessa nods.
“Even if all your relationships end, being afraid of the depth of love, to try and avoid the pain of loss, only handcuffs you to not fully realizing your life. After all you’ve been through, even before you fell in love with Dina, do you really want to limit yourself? You don’t strike me as that type.”
“I don’t think I’m in control.” Tessa releases one long exhale. “I’m not one to limit myself. Life tries to do that too much, already. But I’m afraid I won’t make good choices.”
“Hmmm.” Madeline looks up at the sky as if she’s pondering some great notion. “I can’t promise that you will find everlasting love. But, if it makes sense to you, this is what I believe: There is a divine order, much wiser than any one of us. When I just relax about everything, the universe brings people into my life that I might not ordinarily meet, or want to get to know, but in much of it, I learn exactly what I need.”
“What you’re saying makes total sense. But I didn’t hear anything about being in love.”
“I’ve had many loves. And many losses. What is wise about love? Even though chances are we will lose our animals before they lose us, does it stop us from loving them?”
“No.”
“No. So love and live, laugh and grieve and get up and do it all over again. What are our options? To be a dried up old prune existing a safe and sanitized life or to skid into home plate and say, ‘Boy that was one hell of a ride’?”
“I like the skidding.”
“So do I.”
They sit in silence, sharing the intimacy of the mountains encircling them, the soft breeze, and air they inhale together.
“I love you, Aunt Maddie.” Tessa suddenly hugs Madeline fiercely. She tucks her head under Madeline’s jaw.
Madeline nestles into Tessa’s embrace and whispers, “Oh, Tessa, I love you too. You’re just perfect.”
THAT NIGHT, TESSA rummages through her last mail drop. She had been in such a rush to pick up Dina, she barely took time to read everything. Now, she finds Prince’s letter, and re-reads it more thoroughly.
I hope this catches you in time. Thanks for giving me the General Delivery in Seattle. Tessa, my time with you on the Mississippi came at the perfect moment. I had no idea you had gone through the same change I had. It helped so much to speak with someone who totally gets it. I could have fallen in love with you!
After kayaking, Prince had helped Tessa locate a campground and she offered to cook dinner. He had agreed. They shared a closeness, but Tessa couldn’t put her finger on it. It was vague, not attraction, more of a bond, like a brother.
At dinner, the flickering campfire played with the features on Prince’s face. He was crouched, his arms wrapped around his knees, watching the flames.
“My name used to be Jayda.” He glanced up fearfully.
In the firelight Tessa could almost see the girl he once had been, but not really. It was like, in the briefest second, his face didn’t have stubble on it. Like when the waves washed over rocks, at first the underwater landscape was so clear and then a shimmering took over and the features changed into some sort of impressionistic painting, a series of separate dots up close, but from a distance a cohesive whole. When all was calm, the features resumed their original place.
He was trusting her this far and he was holding his breath, as if waiting for a slap.
“And I used to be called Teddy.”
They both grinned widely.
“Oh my god.” Prince laughed. “We have transdar!”
He paused and shared another secret. “I’m attracted to guys.”
“And I’ve pretty much decided I’m lesbian.”
They smiled again.
“And people give you shit, right?”
“You’re the first person I’ve told.”
“Well, they will give you shit. They’ll tell you, ‘You were born the right sex to begin with.’ ”
“That has nothing to do with it.”
“I know, right? But people can’t wrap their heads around it. I wish, for just ten minutes, they would try being me, and all the shit I’ve gone through, to finally be comfortable in my own skin. Who would willingly put themselves through this much pain and crap? I hate taking drugs. Lots of First Nation people can relate, we call it Two Spirit. But it can mean more than us. It can mean women who are comfortable in their skin but want to do male things, or vice versa. It encompasses hermaphrodites. All sorts of differences.”
“Well, that’s interesting.What a cool way to deal with things as they are. I’m Sicilian, so traditi
onally, macho expectations.” Prince shook his head. “I avoid those sort of stereotypes as much as possible. My male friends want me to be a macho dick; truthfully, when I first took the hormones? I was really quick to anger, but I don’t like that behavior. I had a really excellent counselor guiding me through. Now I mentor newbies.”
“That’s really cool. What a great idea.”
“I am so glad I met you. Can we stay in touch, as friends?”
“I’d like that,” she said.
She returns to the letter in her hand.
Do you think this happens in animals, only they can’t change? When you said you learned that there’s at least fourteen different variations from true male to true female, I was blown away. I think it’s kind of ironic, that what is genetically considered true male and true female are sterile. Don’t you find that odd? Don’t you think the Universe really does want us to be somewhere in between, so we can be as strong as possible?
As strong as possible. Tessa isn’t strong now, but the love in the letter from Prince heartens her and Aunt Maddie saying, sometimes you meet the people you are supposed to meet.
Tessa decides to FaceTime her mom.
Chapter 26
“AUNT MADDIE!”
Madeline turns from stowing the second arm of the awning and smiles. A warm glow starts up from her belly and fires into her heart every time Tessa calls her Aunt.
“Yes?”
Tessa stops in her tracks. “Are you leaving?”
“Oh, I never go very far. Just a little way down the road.”
“But I wanted you and Mom to meet.”
“I’m very glad you called her.”
“You won’t stay for a night and have campfire with us?”
“I thought, if it’s okay with you, that once you are back in Michigan, I’ll come then. Would that be all right?”
“Of course, I just thought it would be nice for all of us here.”
“It’s very special for you and your mom to have some one-on-one time. Another couple of weeks, I’ll see you in Michigan.” She pets Murphy as they sit one more time at the picnic table.
“Well, I wanted to ask you about this.” Tessa proffers the teaspoon handle roach clip and small baggie.
“Oh my God. Where did you find that?”
Tessa tells her.
“That Sadie, I tell you, what an imp.”
“Do you think it’s any good?”
Madeline opens it. “Oh my, yes.”
“Do you want it?”
“Oh good Lord, no. Neither Dan or I smoke. That was the hippy dippy Percy and Sadie routine.”
Tessa laughs. “I don’t really smoke either.”
“Does your mother?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ask her. If she doesn’t, you can always leave it somewhere for someone else, before you cross the border. Dan never would have allowed that if he’d known. Oh my God, he’s going to shit when he finds out.”
They both laugh.
“I love Dan, but he’s too anal. Sadie was so opposite of him. My gosh, we certainly had some adventures. You keep that. And ask your mom and if not, someone on the road will appreciate the treasure you leave.”
“I wanted to ask about something else.”
Tessa relates the argument she had with Dina and the ashes being scattered.
“I don’t have enough for the Bay of Fundy, or any of the eastern drops. I have enough for Idaho and Lake Superior.”
“No worries.” Madeline smiles. “I made those drops, myself, when you had to change course. You haven’t failed the task, Tessa, if that’s what you’re worried about. You fulfilled it splendidly.”
“I didn’t want to fail Aunt Sadie, or Mr. Forsythe, even if that sounds weird.”
“You succeeded beautifully, in every way. Take a deep breath and appreciate yourself for this achievement.”
They each take a moment to look at the mountains encircling the site.
“Stay in my life? Please?” Tessa asks.
“I am delighted to be in your life, always.”
IN HANA, WHEN it’s time to bring the fish in, all the tribal villagers go down to the water to help. Elders sit up on the rocks above the water and direct the younger fishermen where the fish are.
It’s a carnival atmosphere, smokes from food being cooked, some concessions sold, people look at each car to see who’s arriving. An occasional tourist gets lost and finds themselves in the crowd. People aren’t unkind, but they are not overly friendly either.
The nets come in and everyone helps sort. For their work, everyone is given part of the bounty and the rest goes to market.
Up on a hill, above Hana, is a large cross. Josh stands here, out of place, but not lost, overlooking the pastures, before he walks down to the water front. His long, youthful legs carry him effortlessly. He makes the transition from pasture to paved street as easily as he’s made the transition from Northern Michigan to Hawaii. As easily as he did from Navajo country to Northern Michigan, as effortlessly as he breathes.
He strides down the tilting streets to the waterfront and walks into the fish coming in chaos. He understands tribal, community, stealing a car to harvest the parts for the good of the whole.
The dichotomy of the very rich and the very poor in Hawaii does not escape him. It’s why he chooses to not live on an island, but he has a more immediate concern. He watches the men coming in. Their practiced legs stepping thigh deep in the cove’s water, leading the boats in. Some men are big and round like Samoans, others are leaner, most are young, but some of the older ones who can still move well, heads down, nets in hand, lines from the vessels, walk the waters. One in particular.
Josh waits with the younger boys, and the women and children and some older men. The crowd is jovial and jostling and if they’ve noticed the taller younger man, they make no mention, except for a glance, and some of the teenage girls elbow each other as they sip from straws and plastic cups. Josh pretends not to see, but he smiles inside.
“Nadleh,” he calls when the one he is looking for comes close.
The man’s head snaps up, as if he’s heard a sound from his past, from another life, a sound he’s been waiting to hear again. His curly-topped black hair does not quite fit in here, and only once he’s close do his features belie the dark tones of his skin. He could be native, or a dark European, a Mediterranean man. He hands off his nets and lines to someone on shore. And walks toward Josh.
“It’s time.”
The man nods and walks to another man his age in the water. The man in the water looks up at Josh and their eyes meet. They nod. The man in the water claps the other man’s shoulder. The man closer to shore turns to leave with Josh, but not before a young boy comes up and hugs him around the thigh.
Gabe looks down and smiles. He tussles the boy’s hair and, in a brief moment of affection, kisses him on the head.
As they leave Hana, Josh drives toward the barren side. Before they depart the green of the expensive cliffside homes, the public airport used for the ultra-rich people’s private jets, Josh turns down a lane between two pasture fences and locates a small chapel.
He stops and goes inside. Gabe follows him. They let their palms run over the wood of the pews and inhale the air of many generations. For a moment, everything is still. For a moment, generations seep into their pores. They walk back out and behind to the cemetery. Josh walks to the edge of the cliff overlooking the water and watches the surf pound a rock out there. He watches the big curling waves loping in from an endless ocean, crashing and wending their foam and spit around this large plummeting rock. Then he moves back toward the grave he seeks and finds a large heart-shaped, dark grey it’s almost black, rock right in the center of the other many large and black and grey island rocks rimming the square of this man’s grave.
He bends down on one knee and removes the ash he carries in a small pouch. He lifts the rock and disperses the ash into the crevices below, marrying the soil of Hawaii with the
soul of a woman he never knew with the ash of a doe he has slain. Rocks and crevices piled on so many others, and then he replaces the rock and reads the inscription.
If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the Sea, even then Thine hand would lead me and Thy right hand envelope me.
“It’s time,” Josh says, standing and turning to Gabe. “It’s time,” he says again, with tears in his eyes.
Chapter 27
SHE WAITS FOR her mom at the Jasper Hotel, at the same place she’d dropped off Dina, not that long ago.
Tessa rushes to her and holds her fiercely. “It’s so good to see you.”
As her mother holds her, Tessa hears her whisper, “You’ve cut your hair.”
“Yes.”
Her mother runs hers fingers through the shortened thick hair. “It’s almost curly.” She looks at Tessa intently for a moment. “It’s good being here.”
They stand apart.
“And Murphy?”
“He’s in the truck.”
Her mom walks in a complete circle, looking at the sky and the mountains.
“What is it?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much beauty in my whole life.”
“Wait till you see Mt. Edith Cavell.”
Tessa walks with her mom to the parking lot.
“You’re limping!” her mom says as she looks at Tessa’s taped ankle.
“It’s getting better, really. Don’t worry so much. C’mon.” Tessa tugs her impatiently.
As they cross the street, Madeline’s motorhome drives by and she honks.
Tessa waves.
“Who’s that?” her mom asks.
“One of my new friends, Mom.”
HER MOM IS driving, oohing and ahhing as she drives the rig south on 93a. Murphy’s lying between them. Tessa looks at her mom.
“What is it?”
“Why did you divorce Dad?”
Her mom coughs. It’s the kind of cough she does before she avoids a question. Not quite a lie and not quite the truth.
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