Kayaks and Forgotten Dreams
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Allie woke early the m, forced by the incessant chirping of starlings, and rubbed her eyes, feeling the stiffness in her body. She hadnt slept well, waking after every dream, and she remembered seeing the hands of the clo different positions during the night, as if verifying the passage of time.Shed slept in the soft shirt hed given her, and she smelled him once again while thinking about the evening theyd spent together. The easy laughter and versation came back to her, and she especially remembered the way hed talked about her painting.
It was so ued, yet uplifting, and as the words began to replay in her mind, she realized how sorry she would have been had she decided not to see him again.
She looked out the window and watched the chattering birds search for food in early light. Noah, she knew, had always been a m person who greeted dawn in his own way. She knew he liked to kayak or oe, and she remembered the one m shed spent with him in his oe, watg the sun e up. Shed had to sneak out her window to do it because her parents wouldnt allow it, but she hadnt been caught and she remembered how Noah had slipped his arm around her and pulled her close as dawn began to unfold. "Look there," hed whispered, and shed watched her first suh her head on his shoulder, w if anything could be better than what was happening at that moment.
And as she got out of bed to take her bath, feeling the cold floor beh her feet, she wondered if hed been oer this m watg another day begin, thinking somehow he probably had.
She was right.
Noah before the sun and dressed quickly, same jeans as last night, undershirt, flannel shirt, blue jacket, and boots. He brushed his teeth befoing downstairs, drank a quick glass of milk, and grabbed two biscuits on the way out the door. After Clem greeted him with a couple of sloppy licks, he walked to the dock where his kayak was stored. He liked to let the river work its magic, loosening up his muscles, warming his body, clearing his mind.
The old kayak, well used and river stained, hung on two rusty hooks attached to his dock just above the waterlio keep off the barnacles. He lifted it free from the hooks a at his feet, ied it quickly, then took it to the bank. In a couple of seasoned moves long since mastered by habit, he had it ier w its stream with himself as the pilot and engine.
The air was cool on his skin, almost crisp, and the sky was a haze of different colors: black directly above him like a mountain peak, then blues of infinite range, being lighter until it met the horizon, where gray took its place. He took a few deep breaths, smelling pirees and brackish water, and began to reflect. This had been part of what hed missed most when he had lived up north. Because of the long hours at work, there had been little time to spend oer. Camping, hiking, paddling on rivers, dating, w ... something had had to go. For the most part hed been able to explore New Jerseys tryside on foot whenever hed had extra time, but in fourteen years he hadnt oed or kayaked o had been one of the first things hed done wheurned.
Theres something special, almost mystical, about spending dawn oer, he thought to himself, and he did it almost every day now.
Sunny and clear or cold and bitter, it never mattered as he paddled in rhythm to musi his head, w above water the color of iron. He saw a family of turtles resting on a partially submerged log and watched as a heron broke for flight, skimming just above the water before vanishing into the silver twilight that preceded sunrise.
He paddled out to the middle of the creek, where he watched the e glow begin to stretch across the water. He stopped paddling hard, giving just enough effort to keep him in place, staring until light began to break through the trees. He always liked to pause at daybreak - there was a moment when the vieectacular, as if the world were being bain. Afterward he began to paddle hard, w off the tension, preparing for the day.
While he did that, questions danced in his mind like water drops in a frying pan. He wondered about Lon and what type of man he was, wondered about their relationship. Most of all, though, he wondered about Allie and why she had e.
By the time he reached home, he felt renewed. Cheg his watch, he was surprised to find that it had taken two hours. Time allayed tricks out there, though, aopped questioning it months ago.
He hung the kayak to dry, stretched for a couple of minutes, ao the shed where he stored his oe. He carried it to the bank, leaving it a few feet from the water, and as he turoward the house, he hat his legs were still a little stiff.
The m haze hadnt burned off yet, and he khe stiffness in his legs usually predicted rain. He looked to the western sky and saw storm clouds, thid heavy, far off but definitely present. The winds werent blowing hard, but they were bringing the clouds closer. From the looks of them, he didnt want to be outside when they got here. Damn. How much time did he have? A few hours, maybe more. Maybe less.
He showered, put on new jeans, a red shirt, and black cowboy boots, brushed his hair, a downstairs to the kit. He did the dishes from the night before, picked up a little around the house, made himself some coffee, ao the porch. The sky was darker now, and he checked the barometer. Steady, but it would start dropping soon. The western sky promised that.
Hed learned long ago to never uimate the weather, and he wondered if it was a good idea to go out. The rain he could deal with; lightning was a different story. Especially if he was oer. A oe was no place to be whericity sparked in humid air.
He finished his coffee, putting off the decision until later. He went to the toolshed and found his ax. After cheg the blade by pressing his thumb to it, he sharpe with a whetstoil it was ready. "A dull ax is more dangerous than a sharp one," his daddy used to say.
He spent the wenty minutes splitting and stag logs. He did it easily, his strokes effit, and didnt break a sweat. He set a few logs off to the side for later and brought them inside when he was finished, putting them by the fireplace.
He looked at Allies painting again and reached out to touch it, bringing back the feelings o<s>..</s>f disbelief at seeing her again. God, what was it about her that made him feel this way? Even after all these years? What sort of power did she have over him?
He finally turned away, shaking his head, a back to the porch. He checked the barometer again. It hadnt ged. Then he looked at his watch. Allie should be here soon.
Allie had finished her bath and was already dressed. Earlier shed opehe window to check the temperature. It wasnt cold outside, and shed decided on a cream-colored spring dress with long sleeves and a high neck. It was soft and fortable, maybe a little snug, but it looked good, and she had selected some white sandals that matched.
She spent the m walking around downtown. The Depression had taken its toll here, but she could see the signs of prosperity beginning to work their way back. The Masonic theater, the oldest active theater in the try, looked a little more run-down but was still operating with a couple of ret movies. Fort Totten Park l<s>..</s>ooked exactly the same as it had fourteen years ago, and she assumed the kids who played on the swings after school looked the same as well. She smiled at the memory then, thinking back to when things were simpler. Or at least had seemed to be.
Now, it seemed, nothing was simple. It seemed so improbable, everything falling into place as it had, and she wondered what she would have been doing now, had she never seeicle in the paper. It wasnt very difficult to imagine, because her routines seldom ged. It was Wednesday, which meant bridge at the try club, then on to the Junior Womens League, where they would probably be arranging another fund-raiser for the private school or hospital. After that, a visit with her mother, then home to get ready for dinner with Lon, because he made it a point to leave work by seven. It was the one night a week she saw him regularly.
She suppressed a feeling of sadness about that, hoping that one day he would ge. He had often promised to and usually followed through for a few weeks before drifting back to the same schedule. "I t tonight, honey," he would always explain. "Im sorry, but I t. Let me make it up to you later."
She didnt like tue with him about it, mostly because she knew he was telling the truth. Trial work was demanding, both beforehand and during, yet she couldnt help w sometimes why he had spent so much time c her if he didnt want to spend the time with her now.
She passed an art gallery, almost walked by it in her preoccupation, then turned a back. She paused at the door for a sed, surprised at how long it had been since shed been i least three years, maybe longer. Why had she avoided it?
She went inside - it had opened with the rest of the shops on Front Street - and browsed among the paintings. Many of the artists were local, and there was a strong sea flavor to their works. Lots of o ses, sandy beaches, pelis, old sailing ships, tugboats, piers, and seagulls. But most of all, waves. Waves of every shape, size, and aginable, and after a while they all looked alike. The artists were either uninspired or lazy, she thought.
On one wall though, there were a few paintings that more suited her tastes. All were by an artist shed never heard of, Elayn, and most appeared to have been inspired by the architecture of the Greek islands. In the painting she liked the best, she he artist had purposely exaggerated the se with smaller-than-life figures, wide lines, and heavy sweeps of color, as if not pletely focused. Yet the colors were vivid and swirling, drawing the eye in, almost direg what it should see . It was dynamic, dramatic. The more she thought about it, the more she liked it, and she sidered buying it before she realized that she liked it because it reminded her of her own work. She exami more closely and thought to herself that maybe Noah was right. Maybe she should start painting again.
At hirty Allie left the gallery ao Hoffman-Lane, a department store downtown. It took a few mio find what she was looking for, but it was there, in the school supply se. Paper, drawing chalk, and pencils, not high quality but good enough. It wasnt painting, but it was a start, and she was excited by the time she got back to her room. She sat at the desk and started w: nothing specific, just getting the feel of it agaiing shapes and colors flow from the memory of her youth. After a few minutes of abstra, she did a rough sketch of the street se as seen from her room, amazed at how easily it came. It was almost as if shed opped.
She exami when she was finished, pleased with the effort. She wondered what to try and finally decided. Since she didnt have a model, she visualized it in her head before starting. And though it was harder thareet se, it came naturally and began to take form.
Minutes passed quickly. She worked steadily but checked the time frequently so she woulde, and she fi a little before noon. It had taken almost two hours, but the e surprised her. It looked as though it had taken a great deal longer. After rolling it up, she put it in a bag and collected the rest of her things. On her way out the door, she looked at herself in the mirror, feeling oddly relaxed, ly sure why.
Dowairs again and out the door. As she left she heard a voice behind her.
"Miss?"
She turned, knowing it was directed at her. The manager. Same man as yesterday, a curious look on his face.
"Yes?"
"You had some calls last night."
She was shocked. "I did?"
"Yes. All from a Mr. Hammond."
Oh, God. "Lon called?"
"Yes, maam, four times. I talked to him when he called the sed time. He was rather ed about you. He said he was your fiancé."
She smiled weakly, trying to hide what she was thinking. Four times? Four? What could that mean? What if something had happened bae?
"Did he say anything? Is it an emergency?"
He shook his head quickly. "He really didnt say, miss, but he didion anything. Actually, he sounded more ed about you, though."
Good, she thought. Thats good. And then, just as suddenly, a pang in her chest.
Why the urgency? Why so many calls? Had she said anythierday? Why would he be so persistent? It was pletely unlike him. Is there any way he could have found out? No... that was impossible. Unless someone saw her here yesterday and called ... But they would have had to follow her out to Noahs. No one would have dohat.
She had to call him now; no way to get around it. But she didnt want to, strangely. This was her time, and she wao spend it doing what she wanted. She hadnt planned on speaking to him until later, and for some reason she felt almost as if talking to him now would spoil the day. Besides, what was she going to say? How could she explain being out so late? A late dinner and then a walk? Maybe. Or a movie? Or...
"Miss?"
Almost noon, she thought. Where would he be? His office, probably... No. In court, she suddenly realized, and immediately felt as if shed been released from shackles.
There was no way she could talk to him, even if she wao. She was surprised by her feelings. She shouldhis way, she knew, a didnt bother her. She looked at her watch, ag now. "Is it really almost twelve?"
The manager nodded after looking at the clock. "Yes, a quarter till, actually."
"Unfortunately," she started, "hes in court right now and I t reach him. If he does call again, could you tell him Im shopping and that Ill try to call him later?"
"Of course," he answered. She could see the question in his eyes, though: But where were you last night?
He had knowly when shed e in. Too late for a single woman in this small town, she was sure.
"Thank you," she said, smiling. "Id appreciate it."
Two minutes later she was in her car, driving to Noahs, anticipating the day, largely uned about the phone calls. Yesterday she would have been, and she wondered what that meant.
As she was driving over the drawbridge less than four minutes after shed left the inn, Lon called from the courthouse.
Noah was sitting in his rocker, drinking sweet tea, listening for the car, when he finally heard it turn up the drive. He went around front and watched the car pull up and park beh the oak tree again. Same spot as yesterday. Clem barked a greeting at her car door, tail wagging, and he saw Allie wave from ihe car.
She stepped out, patted Clem on the head while she cooed at her, then turned, smiling at Noah as he walked toward her. She looked more relaxed thaerday, more fident, and again he felt a slight shock at seeing her. It was different from yesterday, though. Newer feelings now, not simply memories anymore. If anything, his attra for her had grown stronger ht, more intense, and it made him feel a little nervous in her presence.
Allie met him halfway, carrying a small bag in one hand. She surprised him by kissing him gently on the cheek, her free hand lingering at his waist after she pulled back.
"Hi," she said, radian her eyes, "wheres the surprise?"
He relaxed a little, thanking God for that. "Not even a Good afternoon or How was yht?"
She smiled. Patience had never been one of her stro attributes. "Fine. Good afternoon. How was yht? And wheres the surprise?"
He chuckled lightly, then paused. "Allie, Ive got some bad news."
"<bdo>?９９ｌｉb?</bdo>What?"
&..quot;I was going to take you someplace, but with those clouds ing in, Im not sure we should go."
"Why?"
"The storm. Well be outside and might get wet. Besides, there might be lightning."
"Its not raini. How far is it?"
"Up the creek about a mile."
"And Ive never been there before?"
"Not when it was like this."
She thought for a sed while she looked around. When she spoke, her voice was determined.
"Then well go. I dont care if it rains."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
He looked at the clouds again, noting their approach. "Then wed better go now," he said. " I bring that in for you?"
She nodded, handing her bag to him, and he jogged to the house and brought it inside, where he placed it on a chair in the living room. Then he grabbed some bread and put it in a bag, bringing it with him as he left the house.
They walked to the oe, Allie beside him. A little closer thaerday.
"What exactly is this place?"
"Youll see."
"Youre not even going to give me a hint?"
"Well," he said, "do you remember wheook the oe out and watched the sun e up?"
"I thought about it this m. I remember it made me cry."
"What yoing to see today makes what you saw then seem ordinary."
"I guess I should feel special."
He took a few steps before responding.
"You are special," he finally said, and the way he said it made her wonder if he wao add something else. But he didnt, and Allie smiled a little beflang away. As she did, she felt the wind in her fad noticed it had picked up sihe m. They reached the dock a moment later. After tossing the bag in the oe, Noah quickly checked to make sure he hadnt missed anything, then slid the oe to the water.
" I do anything?"
"No, just get in."
After she climbed in, he pushed the oe farther into the water, close to the dock.
Then he gracefully stepped off the doto the oe, plag his feet carefully to prevent the oe from capsizing. Allie was impressed by his agility, knowing that what he had done so quickly and easily was harder than it looked.
Allie sat at the front of the oe, fag backward. He had said something about missing the view whearted to paddle, but shed shaken her head, saying she was fihe way she was. And it was true.
She could see everything she really wao see if she turned her head, but most of all she wao watoah. It was him shed e to see, not the creek. His shirt was unbutto the top, and she could see his chest muscles flex with every stroke. His sleeves were rolled up, too, and she could see the muscles in his arms bulging slightly. His muscles were well developed there from paddling every m.
Artistic, she thought. Theres something almost artistic about him when he does this.
Something natural, as if being oer were beyond his trol, part of a gene passed on to him from some obscure hereditary pool. Wheched him, she was reminded of how the early explorers must have looked when theyd first discovered this area.
She couldnt think of anyone else who remotely resembled him. He was plicated, almost tradictory in so many ways, yet simple, a strangely erotibination. On the surface he was a try boy, home from war, and he probably saw himself in those terms. Yet there was so much more to him. Perhaps it was the poetry that made him different, or perhaps it was the values his father had instilled in him, growing up. Either way, he seemed to savor life more fully than others appeared to, and that was what had first attracted her to him.
"What are you thinking?"
She felt her insides jump just a bit as Noahs voice brought her back to the present. She realized she hadnt said much siheyd started, and she appreciated the silence he had allowed her. Hed always been siderate like that.
"Good things," she answered quietly, and she saw in his eyes that he knew she was thinking about him. She liked the fact that he k, and she hoped he had been thinking about her as well.
She uood then that something was stirring within her, as it had so many years ago. Watg him, watg his body move, made her feel it. And as their eyes lingered for a sed, she felt the heat in her ned breasts, and she flushed, turning away before he noticed.
"How much farther?" she asked.
"Another half mile or so. Not any more than that."
A pause. Then, she said: "Its pretty out here. So . So quiet. Its almost like going ba time."
"In a way it is, I think. The creek flows from the forest. Theres not a single farm between here and where it starts, and the water is pure as rain. Its probably as pure as its ever been."
She leaoward him. "Tell me, Noah, what do you remember most from the summer we spent together?"
"All of it."
"Anything in particular?"
"No," he said.
"You dont remember?"
He answered after a moment, quietly, seriously. "No, its not that. Its not what youre thinking. I was serious when I said all of it. I remember every moment we were together, and in each of them there was something wonderful. I t really piy oime that meant more than any other. The entire summer erfect, the kind of summer everyone should have. How could I pioment over another?
"Poets often describe love as aion that we t trol, ohat overwhelms logid on sehats what it was like for me. I didnt plan on falling in love with you, and I doubt if you planned on falling in love with me. But once we met, it was clear that her of us could trol what was happening to us. We fell in love, despite our differences, and once we did, something rare aiful was created. For me, love like that has happened only once, and thats why every minute we spent together has been seared (brand) in my memory. Ill never fet a single moment of it."
Allie stared at him. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. Ever. She didnt know what to say and stayed silent, her face hot.
"Im sorry if I made you feel unfortable, Allie. I dido. But that summer has stayed with me and probably always will. I know it t be the same between us, but that doesnt ge the way I felt about you then."
She spoke quietly, feeling warm. "It didnt make me unfortable, Noah ... Its just that I dont ever hear things like that. What you said was beautiful. It takes a poet to talk the way you do, and like I said, youre the only poet Ive ever met."
Peaceful silence desded on them. An osprey cried somewhere in the distance. A mullet splashed he bank. The paddle moved rhythmically, causing baffles that rocked the boat ever so slightly. The breeze had stopped, and the clouds grew blacker as the oved toward some unknowination.
Allie noticed it all, every sound, every thought. Her senses had e alive, invigorating her, and she felt her mind drifting through the last few weeks. She thought abbr></abbr>bout the ay ing here had caused her. The shock at seeing the article, the sleepless nights, her short temper during daylight. Eveerday she had been afraid and wao run away. The tension was gone now, every bit of it, replaced by something else, and she was glad about that as she rode in silen the old red oe.
She felt strangely satisfied that shed e, pleased that Noah had turned into the type of mahought he would, pleased that she would live forever with that knowledge. She had seen too many men in the past few years destroyed by war, or time, or even money. It took strength to hold on to inner passion, and Noah had dohat.
This was a workers world, not a poets, and people would have a hard time uanding Noah. America was in full swing now, all the papers said so, and people were rushing forward, leaving behind the horrors of war. She uood the reasons, but they were rushing, like Lon, toward long hours and profits, ing the things that brought beauty to the world.
Who did she know in Raleigh who took time off to fix a house? Or read Whitman or Eliot, finding images in the mind, thoughts of the spirit? Or hunted dawn from the bow of a oe? These werent the things that drove society, but she felt they shouldreated as unimportant. They made living worthwhile. To her it was the same with art, though she had realized it only upon ing here.
Or rather, remembered it. She had known it once before, and again she cursed herself for fetting something as important as creatiy. Painting was what she was meant to do, she was sure of that now. Her feelings this m had firmed it, and she khat whatever happened, she was going to give it another shot. A fair shot, no matter what anyone said.
Would Lon ence her painting? She remembered showing him one of her paintings a couple of months after they had first started going out. It was an abstract painting and was meant to inspire thought. In a way, it resembled the painting above Noahs fireplace, the one Noah uood pletely, though it may have been a touch less passionate. Lon had stared at it, studied it almost, and then had asked her what it was supposed to be. She hadnt bothered to answer.
She shook her head then, knowing she wasnt being pletely fair. She loved Lon, and always had, for other reasons. Though he wasnt Noah, Lon was a good man, the kind of man shed always known she would marry. With Lon there would be no surprises, and there was fort in knowing what the future would bring. He would be a kind husband to her, and she would be a good wife. She would have a home near friends and family, children, a respectable pla society. It was the kind of life shed always expected to live, the kind of life she wao live. And though she wouldnt describe theirs as a passionate relationship, she had vinced herself long ago that this wasnt necessary to be fulfilled in a relationship, even with a persoeo marry. Passion would fade in time, and things like panionship and patibility would take its place. She and Lon had this, and she had assumed this was all she needed.
But now, as she watched Noah rowing, she questiohis basic assumption. He exuded sexuality ihing he did, everything he was, and she caught herself thinking about him in a way that an engaged woman shouldnt. She tried not to stare and glanced away often, but the easy way he moved his body made it hard to keep her eyes from him for long.
"Here we are," Noah said as he guided the oe toward some trees he bank.
Allie looked around, not seeing anything. "Where is it?"
"Here," he said again, pointing the oe at an old tree that had fallen over, obsg an opening almost pletely hidden from view.
He guided the oe around the tree, and both of them had to lower their heads to keep from bumping them.
"Close your eyes," he whispered, and Allie did, bringing her hands to her face. She heard the baffles of the water ahe movement of the oe as he propelled it forward, away from the pull of the creek.
"Okay," he finally said after hed stopped paddling. "You open them now."
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