Page 10 of Enkindling

I hated to admit it. It meant none of the work I had done these past several years meant anything; everything was a lie. There was something deeply unsettling about that. How did one come to grips with the reality that they had been sincerely deluding themselves for an honest-to-goodness decade? I was so sure I had grown up. I was so sure I had matured. Now I was full of nothing but doubts and confusion. Maybe he had been right all along, and I was only a girl...

Whatever the case, nothing I did worked.

I was aboutbeingas religious as the average Joe. I went to church, hoping to find answers or relief. I encountered nothing of the sort. In my quiet moments, the desires were still there, posing all those same old questions that demanded answers I was incapable of giving. So far as I could tell, when I prayed in private, either God declined to hear me, or I was doing it wrong.

I buried myself in the study. That, too, was ineffectual. And it was by no means light work. Besides my standard university responsibilities, I was busy lobbying against child labor. It demanded all my resources and extra energy. Far from simply having to contend with lawmakers, I had to face off against culture itself, which I was quickly coming to realize was much more intransigent than the cold pragmatism of lawmakers and businessmen with profit on the line. Nor did it help that I was a woman. In my worst moments, I was very tempted to think that perhaps Voltaire was right about the masses.

These days I often caught myself languishing in the narcotic of nostalgia at random moments. Memories of my time with Will from an era long gone took on a new fervor. I wanted so many things. I wanted him to look at me like he had then. I wanted to feel his touch like I had then. I wanted the smoldering heat and the intense passion of it all. I wanted back the days when I was convinced, we had a future, convinced we were destined to make a family together. Above all, I wanted answers. I wanted to know why he had robbed me – us – of all that. Very often now, I would daydream about us locked in a fiery embrace. Then the image would fade beneath a deep and ever-present sorrow I felt at the thought that perhaps this would never bebuta daydream.

After all, he hadn’t come to see me despite his promise, had he? Three weeks was a long time. I felt beyond silly. Here I was, pining after a man who, for all I knew, might have someone else already. He might have wanted nothing to do with me. To him, I was probably just a girl, anyway.

Fate, meanwhile, seemed to delight in mocking me. I saw Joseph Williams twice after our encounter. Our greeting was cold and awkward. Not that I cared. I would have been perfectly fine if he fell through the earth and ended up on the other side of the globe. What I did care about, however, was his capacity for chaos. A man with pride like his coupled with his insane amounts of influence was surely plotting some sort of vengeance. For my part, I felt trapped. I couldn’t very well report him. What would I gain from it besides drawing unwelcome attention to myself? His tendrils reached far and deep. I would need cold, hard evidence if I ever intended to have any allegations against him be taken seriously.

Elsewhere I was having a different but related struggle with a good friend of mine, Derrick Gordon, who worked for the local paper,The Inquirer. At thirty-two, Derrick was a senior, very good at his job, knew all sorts of things, and had all sorts of surprising connections. He had a true detective’s mind, and I often thought he would have done well as one.

Derrick had been only too happy to help me with some of my research and lobbying. Thinking about it now, I sighed. I was grateful to him, but the relationship wasn’t without its kinks. We met regularly and talked about many things with ease, though I was careful never to go into too much detail about my private life. I was meticulous about what I chose to confide in Derrick about. He had nothing but distrust for Joseph Williams, for instance, but I never once considered discussing Mr. Williams with him. Derrick was very cordial with me, and we got alongwell, but I saw in his eyes the tenderness that was the unmistakable marker of love in full bloom.

That put me on guard around him always. Derrick was certainly no Joseph Williams. I trusted him quite a bit. But I could not give him what he wanted, and I didn’t want to mishandle his heart. I was incredibly grateful that he had never tried to push the boundaries with me. He valued our friendship for what it was and didn’t want to end up pushing me away. But I thought I knew what he hoped for, and that was beyond my desire to give.

Fate indeed had a twisted sense of humor. I had all the attention I could wish for and more from everyone but not from the one person I wanted it from. Where was Will? Why would he vanish like this? At the very least, he owed me explanations. Did he not see that? I was so over this period of dejection. I was ready to move on, even if that meant yet another heartbreak at his hands. But at least let me move on! At least grant my tortured soul the closure it craved.

***

It was a particularly hot summer Saturday, and I had been ejected from the house. Having retreated to the back, I was perched in a tree with a book, enjoying the gentle breeze that mercifully wafted through and basking in the shade. Climbing trees was a hobby I had imported from my childhood, and my landlord’s property was spacious and full of them.

Mr. Anderson, my landlord, was a man of sixty-three years, and very fit. He had a deep appreciation for nature and regarded me as his child, as did his wife. The couple had lived here, on the edge of town, for decades, and the property was well maintained and spacious. It was quite a manor, indeed, with a few smaller lodgings and more room than they could reasonably deal with – the Andersons were quite well-off. So, being as fortuitously positioned so close to the university as they were, they were one of several people in the area who rented parts of their property to the university as extra housing for some of its personnel. Thatwas how I ended up living here three years ago, and the Andersons had taken me like a fish to water.

When the magnanimous Mr. Anderson had first learned of my love forall these sylvan,having one day come around the back only to see me perched high up in a tree with my book like some overgrown bird, he had found it highly amusing but had also insisted on making me a perch and a ladder. It was more for his safety than mine, he had told me with a laugh; he had seen enough to know I could handle myself. That was the very tree I was in now, seated on the same perch he had built and maintained with his own hands.

From up here, I could see the vast expanse of the Andersons’ land in all its glory. It stretched from the road and into the wild for acres, with vast expanses of lush field eventually fading into a forest of sorts, and even then, it stretched on a little more. Mr. Anderson was a man of the soil. He maintained an impressivefarm and hired manpower tohelp him work it, most of whom had been with him for years. Closer to the buildings, which housed two university staff like myself beside a few of the Andersons’ live-in workers, were several scattered shade trees like the one I currently inhabited.

On this particular day, Mr. Anderson came around the back, this time in search of me. “You have a visitor, little robin,” he called. That nickname had been mine since the day he had found me in the tree. Mr. Anderson always screened my visitors for me when he was home. He was a large man who could be very intimidating beneath his gregarious exterior.

“Oh?” I replied, surprised. “I wasn’t expecting one.”

“Hmm…” he said thoughtfully. “Well, I did see this one before. A Mr. Carter, he said he was? Yes… He was here recently, too, if I remember right. Getting up in age, you know.”

I froze.No way.

“Well?” he asked, looking up at me patiently. “Should I tell him you’re unable to take his call? Will you come down, or shall I bring him round?”

“No!” I exclaimed, somehow only registering the first part of the entire question. Suddenly overtaken by a burst of activity, I started to scramble out of my perch. “Don’t send him away. I’ll be right there.”

“Remember you don’t have your wings yet, little robin,” Mr. Anderson advised me, clearly amused. “Calm down. I’ll bring him round. And I’ll make it quick before you do yourself some damage. The missus would have me tarred and feathered if I ever let anything happen to you.” With that, he turned on his heel and was off.

I had hardly gotten out of the tree before I heard the footstepsreturning. Hurriedly I tried to smooth myself into looking presentable, my hands trying to reach everywhere at once. I finished just in time. The most I could do now was hope I had managed something of a good job.

Will turned the corner behind Mr. Anderson, and my breath caught. Not for the first time, I grimaced at the thought of how I must look. I was decidedly not ladylike in this instance, clad as I was in a pair of old trousers and an old baggy t-shirt that made me suitable for climbing to my heart’s content. My hair, I was sure, looked a mess – God only knew what the wind had done to it or what bits of bark or leaves had settled in it without my notice. I stood there under the shade awkwardly, clutching my book at my side. Thankfully I had retained enough presence of mind to have my finger marking the page I had been reading. All was not lost.

By contrast, Will was the very picture of a gentleman. He was dressed from head to toe like a young lord – smart leather shoes, well-fitting trousers, a dark vest under which was a perfect white shirt complete with a neckerchief. He wore a black coat over it all that reached to his thighs, and he completed his outfit with a top hat and a stylish walking stick. I nearly swooned.

“Here you are,” Mr. Anderson announced cheerily. “I’ll take my leave. If you need anything, little robin, don’t hesitate.” He turned and left, eyeing Will as he went. Mr. Anderson seemed to approve in his quiet way. I found that fact encouraging if slightly amusing. He was a man of gut feelings and would never have left me with someone he found suspicious.

At any rate, I was finally face-to-face with William Carter again. After three whole weeks. My emotions were a veritable soup – glee blended with vexation blended with fear, hope, pain,desire, and all the rest. I stared at this man responsible for so much of what had or had not happened in my life and felt a tempest brewing in my chest.

He spoke first. “My lady,” he said ceremoniously, removing his hat with a flourish and gracing me with a bow. It was nearly enough to make me melt. Nearly. I was wise to him.

“Hello, William,” I responded rather coolly. “What brings you here today?” If he wanted to joust, he would find me an able combatant.

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