Star Flight

by Phyllis A. Whitney

  “I’m sorry Natalie arrived when she did,” I finished. “He and I were on the brink of a really important conversation. But after she came with her news, he could think only of Camilla. He left quickly, and then Natalie drove me back to the lodge.”

  I must have shivered, and Gordon noticed. “Let’s go down, Lauren. Hot coffee will help.”

  How could I ever forgive the young girl I used to be for not being wiser? I stayed where I was, looking up into Gordon’s eyes, letting him see what was in my own.

  He shook his head at me sadly, but when he spoke, his words were kind, though he made it clear that long ago was long ago.

  “You were only nineteen. You were so young. Even though we were almost the same age, I was older and ready for what I wanted. But I wasn’t all that smart, either. I wanted you to fall in love with me as I had with you.”

  “Do you think I hadn’t?”

  “I don’t think either of us knew much about love at that point in our lives. First love doesn’t always survive the clear light of logic. I shouldn’t have blamed you for being so unsure. You chose what you thought was right for you. Coming with me might have spelled disaster. I expect it’s just as well that you chose a sensible course, even though I was angry with you at the time.”

  I answered him, reckless now, wanting only to speak the truth and make him understand—if ever I could understand myself.

  “What I did was cowardly. I married Jim—which I should never have done. But by the time I came to my senses, you were gone and I knew that what we had shared was over. So I tried to make the best of things. That was all I could do, but I never got over you and I never forgave myself.”

  I couldn’t look at him now. I turned my head away and fought back a dreary impulse to cry.

  He drew me up from the rock and touched my cheek gently with the palm of his hand so that I had to look up at him. “Let it go, Lauren—cut it all loose. That’s what I’ve been trying to do since you came. I know now how useless anger is. We can’t go back and change anything, but we can give up resentment and self-blame.”

  There was nothing I wanted more. With all hesitation gone, I put my arms around his neck and kissed the deep crease near his mouth that I knew so well. When he held me tightly, it was as though I’d come home to where I’d always wanted to be.

  In that intense moment, I was acutely aware of everything around me: the butterflies, a soaring cloud in the sky, the high rock that put us at the top of the world—all these made up a moment I would never forget. When he kissed me, we were not only together, as we were meant to be, but we were a part of everything around us. Now I could respond to the fierce tenderness of his embrace, and I didn’t ever want him to release me.

  “We’d better go down,” he said against my ear. “You’re shivering and it will take time for the sun to warm us up here.”

  “I’m ready to go back now,” I said. I would never lose him again, no matter what.

  But as we moved toward the steps that led down from the chimney, he stopped me, his hand on my arm. “Listen! Someone’s coming. Someone who’s climbed up one of the trails on foot.”

  We waited as a man appeared on the steps, and I saw that it was Ty Frazer. If he had suffered a dislocated shoulder yesterday, he showed no sign of discomfort now. He wasn’t even out of breath. I felt only dismay at the sight of him. Ty belonged to that whole world of problems that had brought me to Lake Lure, and I didn’t want to face them now.

  “Caught you!” he cried in obvious triumph. “I brought Finella some kudzu before her shop opened this morning and she said this was where you’d be. I wanted to talk to the both of you. But especially her.” He glowered at me from under shaggy brows, and his very excitement alarmed me. He seemed a different, wilder creature than the man Gretchen and I had visited yesterday.

  I made an effort to distract him from whatever he intended. “How is your shoulder, Ty? I thought your sister said you shouldn’t move around until it healed.”

  He shrugged off my words. “Gretchen has the gift. She can heal better than she knows. She thinks it’s kudzu and all that stuff she uses, but it’s her hands that do the trick. I didn’t keep that gunk on for long. Gretchen’s spirit is what counts—that and what’s inside my own head. Victoria told me that I must come and talk to you.”

  His look grew a little glassy, and I waited in alarm. Gordon’s arm tightened around me.

  “She came to me in a dream last night. She won’t let me be. Minute I get to sleep, there she is. She won’t let me alone till I do what she wants. She wants you, Lauren.”

  I kept my voice low. “What do you mean, she wants me?”

  “You’re her granddaughter. Give her a chance and she’ll get inside you. She scares me when she sneaks into my dreams. I think she wants to make me pay.”

  “Pay for what, Ty?”

  He shook his head so vigorously that his hair and beard lifted and then settled. “I don’t owe her—she owes me. For everything she did and didn’t do—pretending to be a loving sister and then leaving me high and dry.”

  I looked at Gordon as Ty began to hop about excitedly, but he shook his head, indicating that we’d better listen. Now I knew what it was that so alarmed me about this strange man. It was fear that drove him. Just as fear had touched Roger last night. Ty was deeply afraid of something about which he didn’t want us to know. Perhaps he was trying to warn me or scare me off with this wild tale about Victoria.

  He stopped in front of Gordon. “None of those Brandts are good people. She”—he nodded toward me—“needs to watch out for them. Put her on a plane for California—get her away from here!” He stared off toward lake and sky. “You hear me, Victoria. She’s going away! It ain’t good for her to stay around here. Look what happened to you—and to me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere yet,” I told him quietly. “But if you know something that will help me to find answers, then you can free me to go.”

  “Roger won’t let you have any answers. He’s the Keeper. But if you go away now, you can stay alive—the way Jim Castle didn’t manage to do.”

  He was beginning to frighten me. “And Victoria? What happened to Victoria?” I asked.

  Ty went off on a tangent. “You think Victoria was everything wonderful and beautiful—that she didn’t deserve what happened to her. Isn’t that so, Lauren? Your grandmother! My beautiful, talented, wonderful sister!”

  “Isn’t that the way you saw her?” I asked.

  He threw up his hands. “Ask anybody who knew her back then! She was a magnet for trouble.”

  “Betsey Harlan is still devoted to her. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”

  “Never mind Betsey. Just ask Camilla Brandt. She can tell you about Victoria.”

  I thought of Camilla’s scarred cheek. “It’s possible that Roger’s wife is prejudiced. I’m asking you, Ty.”

  He came so close to me that I could smell the earth and forest odors that were part of his very being. He belonged as much to the mountains as some small wild animal. Yet he had been the one to send me Victoria’s bracelet—the bracelet that had caused Roger Brandt to go white when he saw it.

  “Hear me real good,” Ty said, his face almost in mine, so that I drew back. “Natalie Brandt came to Finella’s shop early this morning while I was there. She told us what happened last night at the Esmeralda. You sure stuck your neck out, didn’t you, Lauren? I never meant for you to show that bracelet to Roger. Victoria wanted you to have it.”

  “Where did you get it, Ty?”

  He wasn’t going to tell me—I could see that—and he ignored my question. “Now Camilla knows who you are!”

  “Why are you so scared?” I challenged. His eyes seemed as bright as a chipmunk’s as he peered at me intently. “Victoria’s the one who kept Betsey from marrying me. Did me a favor, maybe. Back then she was the one who was going to pay for me to go to college. Then I could have married Betsey. Her folks wouldn’t look at me the way I was—young and
pretty much good for nothing. Victoria cut off the money and that finished me.”

  The truth about my grandmother must lie somewhere in between the stories I’d heard about her. Right now, I knew only that I had to learn more.

  “Ty,” I said, “last night my grandfather told me about a book that was written about Victoria Frazer—The Firefly. Would anyone in your family have a copy?”

  “That was a book full of lies. Gretchen wouldn’t have a copy in her house, and I don’t have any place to keep books.”

  “Did you read it, Ty?”

  “Books don’t matter now. Victoria wants you to visit her. But you better not go—” He broke off dramatically, as though promising dire consequences.

  “Tell me where to find her, Ty.”

  “She’s in a lot of places. She can get inside people—the way she does in my dreams. She made me come here today. She wants you to help her.”

  Gordon had heard enough and he tried to change the subject. “Natalie called me last night, Ty. She told me that Camilla was sick. Have you heard if she’s better?”

  Ty answered shortly. “I wouldn’t be hearing stuff about the Brandts.”

  “If you know what happened to Victoria, Ty, please tell me,” I urged.

  His eyes took on an angry gleam. “Why don’t you ask your grandpappy? He knows better than anyone else.” He broke off and ran toward the steps that led down from the top of Chimney Rock. We had to let him go.

  “Maybe he’s got something when it comes to putting you on a plane for home,” Gordon said.

  I shook my head, wishing that Ty had never climbed up to this rock. The magical moments between Gordon and me had been interrupted and we couldn’t recapture them now.

  “You know I won’t leave,” I told him. “I need to know what happened to Jim. And to my grandmother. I feel as though I’m getting close to something, and I owe them both that much. And perhaps I owe it to Victoria to find out what she was really like.” I smiled uncertainly. “Perhaps that’s what she wants—for me to know, for me to help set the record straight. Roger Brandt is remembered even today, but she’s been forgotten. I wonder if it’s up to me to change that? I don’t believe all the things Ty says about her. In the long ran, maybe he didn’t like Victoria. And right now he seems wild and disturbed, so how can he be a good judge of anyone?”

  Gordon shook his head. “Don’t dismiss Ty too easily. There’s more to him than you might think—even in the times when he seems a bit off.”

  My thoughts, however, were already wandering from Ty as an idea began to take hold in my mind.

  “I have a notion, Gordon. Natalie says there’s to be a costume party held at the Lake Lure Inn. I told her I wouldn’t go, but I’ve been wondering if I might be able to stir up some of the secrets about Victoria Frazer—and even about Jim—if I pick up her suggestion. Will you be there, Gordon?”

  “Of course. This is a civic event, and Finella would never let me off. If you want to go, I’d like to take you. But first, tell me what you have in mind.”

  “Natalie wanted me to dress like Victoria Frazer, and at first I rejected that. But if I followed it through, I might be able to startle a few people and force something into the open.”

  “I don’t like that,” he said quickly. “You could make yourself a target.”

  “If you were with me, I’d be all right. And Betsey has just the dress I might borrow.” I was beginning to feel excited—as though something urged me into this. “It’s a gown Victoria wore in Blue Ridge Cowboy. That ought to cause a stir!”

  “No! It’s a foolish idea. You don’t look like any of the pictures I’ve seen of Victoria. She was blond and you’re dark. No one could possibly confuse you.”

  I knew he was setting himself against this because he wanted to protect me, keep me out of possible trouble. But a vision had begun to possess me and I wouldn’t listen.

  “I’d wear a wig, of course. Don’t you see? That first moment of shock when I appeared, looking—if only for an instant—like my grandmother, might tell us something.”

  He gave up for the moment, though he was clearly not convinced. “Let’s go down and have breakfast.”

  I was hungry and also eager to do anything that would keep me in Gordon’s company. He seemed to have drawn back from me just a little—perhaps we’d gone too fast—but I wasn’t really worried. I could still feel his arms around me.

  At the little lunch counter on the shop level, Gordon picked up rolls and butter and bought mugs so that we needn’t drink coffee out of Styrofoam cups. We sat near long windows that looked out toward Lake Lure, shining in the morning sun—its entire length revealed from this high place. I could see the massive shape of Rumbling Bald, as well—that mountain of secrets that was always a magnet for my eyes.

  It was good to be with Gordon quietly. In spite of Ty’s interruption, I was sharply aware that something new had come to life between us. We had both changed.

  His next words surprised me pleasantly. “Finella asked me to invite you to our house for dinner tonight. Will you come?”

  I liked Finella and I would go anywhere to be with Gordon. “I’d love that.” But there was still that one track in my mind. “How will you dress for the party?” I asked.

  There had been times long ago when he could look playful—nothing like the serious man he had become. It was this glint I saw in his eyes now.

  “Let’s just wait,” he told me. “Maybe I’ll surprise you.”

  I had to let it go at that, and I turned in another direction.

  “I wonder if there’s any way I could get hold of a copy of The Firefly?”

  Gordon considered. “There’s an antiquarian bookshop in Asheville that might have a copy. I could phone and find out.”

  Phoning was too easy. I wanted to stay with Gordon as long as I could manage it. “Let’s just go,” I said. “I’d like to see the shop, anyway.” I knew my own eyes were dancing in the old way—as they’d done when Gordon and I embarked on some little adventure. Once he had found that look irresistible, and it didn’t fail me now.

  He leaned across the small table and kissed me. “Finish up and we’re on our way.”

  We went down in the elevator, walked back through the tunnel and out to Gordon’s car. He chose the high road over the mountains to Asheville and we followed the Blue Ridge Parkway for a while. It was a road of hairpin turns, and when the trees opened up, there were far-flung vistas of distant valleys and mountains. The many turns slowed us down, so the trip to the city took nearly an hour.

  Gordon drove to the old downtown section, where he parked near a pedestrian mall that wound its course among elderly buildings of interesting geometrical design. A short walk took us to where a sign hung over a door, indicating the Captain’s Bookshelf.

  High, steep stairs led to the second level. Originally, Gordon told me, the bookshop had been started by a retired naval captain, and now it was run by his son and daughter-in-law.

  This was the sort of old bookstore I’d always loved. The walls were solid with ancient volumes and there were counters and stacks, as well as a couch and comfortable chairs to encourage browsing. On the far end wall, a fanciful dragon made of patches of Japanese obi silk formed a dramatic decoration. In the center of the shop, an enormous rubber plant that was practically a tree dominated the space.

  Gordon knew the proprietor and called her Megan. I quickly recognized her interest in a myriad of subjects and her knowledge of the books that crowded around her. When Gordon asked whether she had a copy of The Firefly, she looked surprised.

  “What an odd coincidence. That’s the second request I’ve had today. A man called earlier and said he would come in to pick up our one copy. He didn’t give me his name or say where he lived, but he should be in any minute now. If you like, I can let you see the copy before he comes.”

  She gave me the book by Dennis Ramsay, and while Gordon explored the shop, I sat down to look through it. The jacket had been torn and mended
with tape, but the pages were intact. There were a few photographs and I looked through them at once.

  The author had devoted the early chapters to Victoria’s childhood, and for the first time I saw pictures of my great-grandparents, whose names I’d never even known. Because of the strange circumstances of her birth, my mother had known little about her family. There were pictures of Victoria and her brother and sister, and she had been a beautiful child. Gretchen looked a little stodgy; it couldn’t have been easy for her, growing up with so stunning an older sister. Ty looked small for his age but bright-eyed, as if he could be naughty.

  I was most interested, however, in later pictures, when Victoria had become a successful screen actress. Her parents had apparently died while the children were still young, so they had never known about her fame.

  The writer pointed out that Victoria Frazer, a slightly younger contemporary of Garbo, had possessed a special quality of her own. What she might have achieved if she had lived would never be known. The Firefly had been her most impressive starring vehicle, and the author claimed that her magic could flash on and off—like the light of a firefly—though it had never burned more brightly than in the picture she had made with Roger Brandt—her last.

  Dennis Ramsay warmed a bit maliciously to his subject at this point as he went into detail about the love affair between Victoria Frazer and Roger Brandt. Dipping into these paragraphs, I wondered how he could possibly know such things and how much had been created out of his own imagination. He seemed more disapproving of Victoria than of Roger, whom he indicated was devoted to his wife.

  I was startled to read that Betsey had taken care of Victoria for the last three months of her pregnancy. It seems Victoria needed a secluded place where the press wouldn’t find her. If she could keep her condition a secret, which she managed to do during the filming of Blue Ridge Cowboy, then her career might continue unaffected. The baby had been born at Betsey’s house and from there it was taken by a trusted friend to the couple in California who were eagerly awaiting my mother’s arrival.