Heartstrings in B-Flat Minor

by Scott Johnson

  Sterling, no different from any man, immediately was smitten with Miriam. Being away from her has been torture, worsened by her not having shown up yet today. Snake’s lesson of the day for Sterling involves working to achieve inner peace. Sterling soon enters another dimension, where total recall replays any scene through self-hypnosis.

  “Go with it,” Snake coaches from the here and now.

  In the world of trances, Sterling recalls getting the lay of the land of the hills during his unemployment bliss. That’s when he first coaxed a hesitant Miriam to sneak off with him to a deserted and distant plantation line shack. He’d found the shack on a coffee field map in Snake’s primitive office.

  “Good thing you are so nosy,” Miriam teases Sterling. “That map’s been there forever, and I never gave it notice.”

  “Being with you keeps me on my toes, my dear.”

  Miriam has liked this smooth, older American from the start. Both of their minds already have rushed light-years ahead to many happy days together, but Miriam is determined not to be a pushover. Nevertheless, the first line shack visit leads to others, each one friskier than the last. “You’re fun,” she’s always quick to tell Sterling.

  During one shack visit, he proposes, “So here’s a fun idea … I don’t suppose you’d care to let me practice my hypnotism drills on you, would you?”

  “Wow, that’s about the last thing I thought you were going to say. Is that supposed to be romantic?”

  “Snake says I have to work at this with someone I trust.”

  She laughs. “Hey, boy, you don’t think I’ve had that game played on me before? Living around here, hypnotism heaven, with Snake as everyone’s guru?”

  “All right,” Sterling says with a shrug, “so I don’t get points for originality. But I’d like to think you and I have something going on that all those players only could dream of, right?”

  “Come on, sweet-talking man, you know we have something going on—just don’t be getting your hopes up too high too fast. And I won’t be doing anything I don’t wanna be doin’.”

  “What, are you saying I want to seduce you by hypnosis?”

  “Can you imagine such a thing?”

  “Girl,” he intones with faux indignation, “I never would dream of such a thing!”

  She pushes him down on the antique weathered bed. “I’m sure,” she purrs, entwining her body with his. Between a few kisses, she whispers, “Now don’t be taking this as some kind of promise of anything to come. Just a little kissin’.”

  “Only if you come will I.”

  It takes young Miriam a moment to catch his drift. “Is that right?” she eventually responds. She’s all in long before he even attempts any hocus-pocus. They’re all over each other, removing clothing as they go. Sterling is amazed and humbled to find that this legendary young beauty has remained a virgin till now.

  She shrieks and goes giggly at the sight of her blood trails. “I need to capture this,” she laughs.

  “You’re bad,” he laughs back as she snaps a picture.

  Sterling’s visits become less frequent, with extra work brought on at No Worries by brushes with some tropical storms, bringing a few injuries to his clinic. Eventually, though, hurricane season ends.

  Surface life settles down, and Sheryl decides to take a solo journey to the jungle for a day of bamboo rafting, telling Sterling she’ll use the little excursion to clear her mind. As a couple, they have been discussing how by next week she’ll be at the outer limits of any abortive surgical procedure that could be performed.

  “The rafting will do you good,” he agrees. “You’ll figure it all out.”

  Even while talking to Sheryl, Sterling focuses on his unexpected opportunity to be away from her watch. Once she is gone, he pries a few hours off duty from Ronny Walker and heads for the hills.

  After a line-shack tryst, Miriam waits till passion cools to spill some news to Sterling. “I’m pregnant,” she says softly, her eyes seeking his.

  “What?” he exclaims in knee-jerk fashion, though he heard her perfectly well.

  “You heard me,” she replies, staring him down. “I knew this would not be good news to you. I just knew it. Suddenly, this is not so fun or romantic for me anymore.”

  Beyond stunned, Sterling tries to gather his splattered thoughts. He has nothing to say.

  Miriam, though, has plenty enough to say for both of them. “Stupid, stupid me!” she laments before bursting into tears. “And it’s all the worse,” she sobs, “since you’re never around anymore, especially when I need you most.”

  “I am here now,” he finally utters, enveloping her in his arms.

  “For now,” she interjects. “I was a fool to believe you were not using me, but no more.”

  “I’ve never felt anything but love and compassion, despite what you think.”

  Miriam steps away from him in the tiny shack, seemingly blocking out his voice. Talking more or less to herself, she says, “All the girls say nothing can happen the first time.”

  “No, my dear,” Sterling says, unable to keep from chuckling at her naïveté, “I’m afraid that’s an old wives’ tale. First time, any time, can be your time.”

  “I realize that now. It doesn’t exactly ring true in practice.”

  Sterling’s mind races through obvious repercussions. He mumbles, “Snake is gonna be pissed! He’ll think I’ve overstepped my bounds—betrayed his fine hospitality.”

  “No lie!” Miriam interjects in agreement, shaking her pretty head in trepidation.

  “And he wouldn’t be wrong.”

  Miriam shudders. “I’m sure he didn’t have this in mind for me quite so soon. And he rules, boy. Cross him and you find out.”

  Sterling’s mind flashes from one delicate situation to another, thinking secret thoughts of the Sheryl situation and now this. New thoughts blast from further back in time, his action-packed months at Makeup Is Us. He’s been down this path before, that summer. But at least then he was similar in age to the girls he romanced, with only one of them getting pregnant. This time, with the age gap, there’s more than a tinge of guilt for Sterling. Miriam is so young.

  For the first time ever, Sterling feels like a real cad. Traces of guilt flutter in his thoughts of Sheryl, even as he feels tight up against the ropes standing before Miriam. He’s in a double bind with trouble ahead from each of them. “Talk about unfaithful,” he mutters, momentarily disgusted with himself.

  “What?” Miriam asks.

  Stressed, Sterling snaps to attention and caresses her face. “My dear, my mind was wandering around, out of control.”

  She searches his eyes. He looks back into her eyes, gently. He tries to send a sympathetic thought way deep into her psyche. Verbally, he softly adds, “I’m faithfully here.”

  Even as Sterling scolds himself, he knows he better get on the ball. Miriam’s surprise news was so out of left field. Her eyes now seek guidance. She’s in trouble, in need of a holding hand, his holding hand. He embraces her and tries humor. “So you don’t think he’ll be too happy with me?”

  “Ha!” she exclaims, laughing in his face.

  “Figures. I’d feel the same.” Sterling stalls momentarily and then smoothly says, “We need to discuss our options.”

  “Options? Like what, an abortion? Me? I, uh … I don’t know.”

  “I know it’s not what you’d want to do if given a choice.”

  “Gee, really?” Pain manifests all over her face.

  “Sorry, really. All I meant was—”

  “Careful!” she interjects.

  He takes heed and proceeds gingerly. “All I mean is this is pretty unexpected, right? And depending on what you—we—decide to do, it could affect the rest of our lives, right?”

  “Either way it will affect the rest of my life.”

  “So,
” Sterling says, forging ahead, “I’m sure you know of girls getting them done on the sly.”

  “Right,” says a wounded Miriam, “on the sly.”

  Sterling senses his insensitivity. “Hey, baby, sorry again. I didn’t mean it to sound so bad.” He reaches for her, but she pulls away repulsed.

  “Whatever,” she snarls in retort. “But you’re wrong to think that this is so unexpected. I mean, come on, mon, are you kidding me? We were totally careless! Under your leadership, I might add.”

  “Hey, it takes two, and you were game.”

  “I was game?”

  “I forced nothing.”

  “That better not be your story for Snake.”

  “What story? I should be telling him I forced myself upon you? That ain’t gonna happen. Listen, Miriam dear, if you do both the right and smart thing, we won’t need any story.”

  Miriam sees where this is leading. “Look, even if I okay an abortion, you’re forgetting Snake.”

  “I assure you, that’s the last thing I’m doing.”

  “You are afraid of him, this I know.”

  “Well, that’s for sure. Who wouldn’t be?”

  “You better be.”

  “I am.”

  “Then think of this, smarty Yankee man, Snake knows every midwife and doctor from here to Kingston. People know me too.”

  “Point being?”

  “You still think we can keep this quiet?”

  Sterling, befuddled by fear of a vengeful Snake, still insists, “Why not, if we’re smart?”

  “No, my dear.” She chuckles heartily but with overtones of misery. “This cannot be kept quiet. It will be front-page news here.”

  Sterling knows she is right. “The right idea will take hold,” he offers reassuringly.

  Miriam wants him to stay the night—needs him to stay the night. But of course he can’t stay. Little does Miriam know that Sheryl awaits Sterling at No Worries with more trouble of a similar nature. Sterling sees Miriam home from the line shack and returns to No Worries.

  Come morning in the hills, Miriam joins Snake for breakfast. He senses that his little sister is on edge and demands to know what is going down between her and Sterling.

  To the point, she says, “I came up pregnant, Snake.”

  “What?”

  By noon, Snake and Miriam are motoring for No Worries in his aging Toyota. An unwanted distraction looms darkly on the horizon, a postseasonal hurricane. Already not so far off, it builds strength in promise of catastrophic trouble. Radio airwaves buzz with warnings.

  Inside the Toyota, all weather issues take a backseat to Snake’s preoccupation with Miriam’s condition and how she came to be in such a fix. As they zip downhill in the creaky car, thoughts of what to do about Sterling ricochet around inside his brain—murderous thoughts.

  He snarls to Miriam, “I thought I could trust this American man of medicine and did so with my own sister.” Choking beneath the dignity of a revered, holy man, he asks, “Please forgive me, girl. I know I can never forgive myself.”

  “Snake, this is life. There is nothing to forgive.”

  Snake composes himself. “To think I would have been glad, proud, to have Sterling as a brother-in-law through proper channels of respect—despite the age spread between you two. Now I only feel outrage.”

  Miriam smiles at her big brother. “It is good to see you in your dangerous mode. You are so powerful when you get this way. I am so proud to be your little sister.”

  At No Worries Beach Resort, Sheryl sits at a lobby table near the reception desk, finishing up frantic paperwork for a nervous but grateful man, a JA Tours client. She’s just gotten him a flight change that gets him and his family out of Jamaica right away, free and clear of the hurricane. Sheryl wishes luck to the stressed tourist as he runs off to tell his wife and kids the great news.

  Wondering what crisis will spring up next, Sheryl scans the open-air lobby and spots an aging Toyota double-parking outside, to the irritation of the head valet. Taxis, shuttles, and freaked-out travelers already clog the driveway. The Toyota blocks the only avenue around all the vehicles loading up people and luggage for treacherous runs to the airport in Montego Bay.

  An impressive duo climbs out of the Toyota, a towering man with salt-and-pepper dreadlocks and a stunning young woman. Both are obviously angry and in a hurry. They are in no mood for listening to the valet, who follows them into the lobby.

  The Rastafarian man tosses his keys to the valet, firmly instructing, “Move it yourself. And you better not lose those keys on me, mon, or there will be trouble.” As the valet turns to go, the tall man calls after him. “Is Dr. Sterling Jackson around today?”

  The valet, overwhelmed with masses of badgering guests, has no idea as to Sterling’s whereabouts. He looks relieved when Sheryl steps in to help.

  “Can I help you?” she asks the man amid the tense atmosphere.

  “I’m looking for Dr. Sterling Jackson. Do you know where he could be found?”

  Sheryl sneaks a glance at the young woman before answering. “No, but if you’ll give me time to check, maybe I can find him for you.”

  “That would be appreciated,” says the man, calming down a bit.

  “Who shall I say is asking?” asks Sheryl.

  “Tell him Snake and Miriam happened to be in the neighborhood—thought we’d say hi.”

  “Right,” replies Sheryl, not believing a word of it. She smiles at Miriam, thinking she notices a tiny baby bump. She notices Miriam likewise examining Sheryl’s growing condition. “Well,” continues Sheryl, “let me see what I can do for you. I’ll be right back.”

  Sheryl exits outside, wondering about the reasons behind this unexpected pair’s search for Sterling during the chaos of an approaching hurricane. Her early warning system already has her suspicious of any forthcoming explanation from Sterling, provided he can be found.

  She heads for Sterling’s beachfront bungalow near the pounding surf, making sure Snake and Miriam are not tracking her movements. Confident they’re still in the lobby, Sheryl turns down the path to Sterling’s digs, mindful of swirling debris in the air. She develops the strange feeling that she’s seen Snake and Miriam before somewhere. She’s certain of that.

  “Up in the mountains,” she suddenly mumbles, “that’s where.”

  In the bungalow, Sterling stuffs clothes into a suitcase. He has to kneel on the top to get it closed. Grabbing his passport and cash from a closet safe, he rushes outside and begins running down a lush pathway away from the beach.

  “Look!” screams one scurrying guest among many. “It’s getting closer!” The sky has darkened to an ungodly hue that screams, Get out of my way!

  Guests are scampering all over the resort property in various stages of panic, many towing suitcases. Tropical landscaping sways in the increasing winds, with the menacing clouds casting sinister shadows on the resort’s many brightly colored guest buildings. Heard everywhere are panicked voices in varying languages, speaking to the crisis’s international flavor.

  At a path crossroads, Sheryl and Sterling run into each other. She grabs him on the fly. “Where are you going?” she angrily demands.

  Antsy and wanting to keep on the move, he thinks fast and barks into the wind, “To the lobby to find you! Thank God you’re here! Get your stuff and let’s get out of here!”

  “And where are we going?”

  “Beg, borrow, or steal us a flight to anywhere, fast! Or at least let’s get to the airport and be first in line once the debris is cleared.”

  “Sorry to say,” Sheryl snarls with a glare, “but I think the lobby’s the last place you want to be right now.”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “There’s a rather unusual couple looking for you there.”

  “What?” he stammers, fearing the wo
rst. “A couple of what?”

  “A couple of Jamaicans—Snake and Miriam. Ring a bell?”

  Sterling flushes, knowing the jig is up. “Oh …”

  “What’s this ‘oh’ all about?”

  “It’s a long story—let’s leave it at that for now.”

  “Okay, listen,” she says forcefully, “for now we will leave it at that. There’s too much going on to squabble. But this will be revisited, soon!”

  Sheryl has no intention of leaving this alone for long. She suspects the worst—that this involves Miriam and that little bump. Whatever it is, as much as she’d like to argue now and part ways with him forever, Sheryl has been through these storms before and knows that at this point it’s the luck of the draw. Anything bad could happen. All hands are needed on deck. Survival mode rules. Personal troubles are trumped.

  Sternly, she instructs Sterling, “Get over to Little Italy. It’s our best hurricane shelter for anyone in the know.”

  Sterling glances first at the increasingly dangerous horizon and then checks out the Italian-themed restaurant down the path. Staffers and platinum-level guests are ducking inside.

  Sheryl testily adds, “I’m putting you in the know.”

  “Maybe you’re right. It’s crazy to be out in the open.”

  “There’s no maybe about it. I’ll send your friends off to a different shelter.”

  “And then what?”

  “We’ll deal with this after the storm blows through.”

  “Fine,” he says, apparently acquiescing.

  “Whatever’s going on, we both know it isn’t very fine.”

  “You’re right,” he admits. “And we’ll face it head-on right away.”

  She stares him down and then snarls, “I’m still on the clock. We’ll reconnect later.”

  As she scoots for the lobby, Sheryl’s mind is a fog of competing memories and visions. Job responsibilities outweigh everything else, though, and she wants to shake off Snake and Miriam as fast as possible. Then she’ll take on that other snake, Sterling. Sheryl angrily indicts him based on his expressions alone. He looks like he’s on the run from everyone, everything.