BEGINNING TO GO HOME
Sara hadn't been that honest. told herself she wasn't in love with John really at all. she just wanted to have a fling or an affair or something - before she settled down with Sam and had kids and all that. there had been plenty of men really... they had rotated around and around her like comets - really fast into orbit for days or months even. then out again into their own part of the milky way... some of them she hoped would crash into some planet and not ever come back her way. they'd just break into ice crystals and be so tiny they'd feel just like snow on your face when they came back to touch you again. you wouldn't have to notice that they were really not there. they'd melt just like snow. each one a crystal that wouldn't repeat again.
John was tall and thin and a fisherman and an outdoorsman kind of person. he didn't have the academic background that Sara and Sam had. that was refreshing in every way... not to hear about college classes and who knew who and where they were all going with their lives. John was going on the fishing boat for weeks at a time and when he came back he smelled very lightly of the sea and fish. even seeing that he showered for a long, long time and always wore thick gloves while he fished and the thick slickers and stuff... his face tanned deep but the rest of him was all white and thin but sturdy muscles, much like ropes. he didn't say much often, at all, really. when he did, it was gentle stuff about how sweet she was. how he loved how small and thin she was. with her long brown hair and sweet little breasts and glasses and all. he thought of her as a child almost. a sweet little girl child. he held her tender like a child... Sam always held her like an equal. an adult. Sam was thicker than John. heavy like a peasant. he watched ball games all the time - either baseball or football and sometimes soccer. Sara liked the times he was all heavy on the couch watching these games on TV. she could go off and think of her own world during those times. bring him a sandwich. think about how different Sam's love making was than John's... they were night and day. John was more day actually. a real and ordinary person. but with extraordinary feelings and tendernesses. a poet... Sam was not yet formed. he was probably ordinary too. he just didn't know it yet. he thought he was extraordinary. but he wasn't. not at all...
John had been married once. his wife had been more like a child than Sara was. because she had been younger and hadn't finished high school. so she had really depended on him. she actually died having their baby...by herself in the hospital. because John was at sea. the baby had died four days later. weighed only four pounds. which should have been enough but wasn't. he just had died out of the same sorrow John had. that's what John believed. he always cried softly when he talked about her... Sara didn't remind him of her. she had a different personality. but she looked like her. her name had been Marie. she had a soft Southern accent and had been real soft like that. Sara wasn't soft. but she looked like Marie. she felt spooked by that, actually. she liked John first thing for looking absolutely nothing like any one she had ever made love with. his tallness and thinness was a great thing, really. she liked that best about him. he was like climbing a tree to get close to the bark. to feel something great between her legs like that. to press her breasts against. without reservation. with joy, actually... making love with Sam was completely different. was much like climbing a hill and stretching yourself over the peak. it was all solid under you. it certainly wasn't going to go away, that hill. not any time soon...
but a tree might get hit by lightening. might get pulled up right out of the ground by, like, an earthquake or a crane or something. is living. so is more vulnerable. looks strong and rooted. but could be destroyed by fire or water or love or something. a living man. Sam. maybe not so alive. Sara was going to marry him anyway.
Sara said she wanted kids. but maybe not... John didn't want kids anymore. he liked it that Sara was engaged. he was tired of women trying to save him. he wanted to just be around somebody who didn't want him so much. he wanted just to be let-be for awhile. and Sara wanted to be treated royally to love-making for hours and hours without any expectations. she didn't want it dirty or anything said dirty. she didn't want to be treated like a whore. she wanted to be cherished and held and treated like a little virginal creature of the forest. a little bit of a girl. some one new to the whole thing of loving. some one not ready for marriage. not ready to go to college yet. some one just learning to love and care. someone waiting for life to begin. nothing planned or decided on yet. new to everything. new to life. to love. to feeling even. some one who didn't know so much. didn't care so much. didn't want so much. didn't think so much. didn't question life so often. had ideals and ideas... all unformed. John's love making made her feel like that. she was happy with him. because it wouldn't last. so it would be a great memory. for when things would get bad with Sam. or worse, boring. not even married to him yet. already anticipating how boring it was all going to be. this wasn't good...
it was Sam who first said it. how she was getting more excuses for not making love with him. we're not even married yet, he complained. already you're having headaches and stuff. what's up? Sara said it was just wedding jitters. they had just started all the plans. both the sets of family folks were all happy and liked each other. every one was getting closer. Sam was getting closer. he was taking up more time in her life. he was talking about giving up his apartment and moving into her larger-digs, as he called them, to save more money for the honeymoon and all. why not?, he asked her. nobody will be surprised. we've been together forever... that's for sure, was what Sara thought. for ever. it was always going to be like this. she felt trapped... she knew she had set the trap for herself. or at least had walked into it all on her own. Sam wasn't to fault. he was just normal. it was her. she was not doing well here. what she really wanted was to have John and Sam both in the same house. in different bed rooms. she'd have the kids with Sam. she'd have her dream love-making with John during the not-fertile times of the month. then she'd have one whole man out of the whole mess.
Sara began to daydream and night dream both. about men she didn't know. about John. about her past casual affairs and boyfriends. she took to wanting to invite all her old boyfriends and even the short-term-affair guys, to the wedding. when she made a joke about it to Sam he found it very not-funny, as he said. what in the hell is going on with you lately?, he asked her. this is more than jitters, Sara. this is like an anxiety reaction of some kind. maybe you need to get some pill from your doc or something. get yourself together. you want this, right? you want us, right? Well, course I do. blah. blah. blah. she could always talk him back into forgetting what he had been upset about with her in the first place. this was a good skill for a marriage, Sara thought. then she went right back into her dream lands where all the men were not Sam and there weren't ever going to be any children, too... after a while, she began to think about that she wanted Sam to take care of the kids really. and go to work, somehow, at the same time. maybe he could work out of the home. the important thing would be that she wouldn't have to be there all day. maybe some other woman could be hired. she could carry the kids in the pregnancies and go through all that birth stuff. then she could take care of them all day too. on account of she would be bonded to them, having carried them and birthed them and all that... Sara didn't even make a joke out of that notion in her head. but it didn't go away either.
John was getting concerned that she was still sleeping with him so near to the wedding. even in his neutral emotional state, which was rarely provoked by any reality, this one was strange He'd ask Sara if she still wanted him and Sam too. or just Sam. or just him. he was only curious. not really very invested. he didn't want to be the cause of any trouble. he just wanted his fantasy while he made sex with Sara. of his dead wife's kind of being in his life. I was a child and she was a child in this kingdom by the sea. like Poe wrote. with death of the wife at the end of the poem, too... only Sara wasn't going away. it was time for her to move on. didn't look like it was going to happen any day soon. the wedding was only a week away. it was getting harder to make excuses for hours away from the pre-wedding scene. all the relatives and friends starting to arrive and getting together before the ceremony and all of that. the wedding presents on the hall table looking happy and official. Sara was supposed to be joyfully immersed in all of that by now. but she was still curling up like a baby in John's arms. and he was all at sea about it. he was truly an innocent in many ways. because he had never done a lick of work to get through the grief over the loss of his little family. well. that at least was natural in a lot of ways. Sara's thinking, or lack of thinking, over all this was a lot more disturbing. in more ways than one...
Sara took to wandering about outside much of the night as the wedding came closer day by day. she was not very forthcoming with reasons why. I'm nervous is all. that's all she could explain... John was saying less and less. they hadn't slept together for a week. their phone calls were tinny and fading. Sam was angry but was trying hard not to show it. he was starting to feel very confused. rightfully so, of course. Sara was twisting her hair into little tendrills like a little girl who had just been scolded. finally she said something the day before the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner and all. she called John and said. I want to go to sea with you. John didn't laugh. he was very silent. finally he said, women aren't good luck on fishing boats. the fish don't run when they're on board. not with the fishing crew, she told him. just us. just us. alone. a hesitation. then... when? tonight, please. her voice sounded like a little girl's. John was thrown inside. he felt like he was drowning somehow. somehow overboard and going down. but he couldn't stop it. it was like some dark fate. it was not unexpected. I'll come for you at six. pier 7. I'll have the running lights on. dress warm. it's going to be a cold blow tonight. maybe a real storm coming in. but I'll be there. I'll be there, she repeated in a firm but small voice. a stubborn child voice...
she was there and he was there at six. they were silent as he extended his hands to help her board. silent as she sat with the big yellow slicker wrapped around her. the sea already twirling a bit in the wind of the harbor. a restless, choppy wind. not bad. but not really good either. the sky a dull gray of storm or high fog. unknown seas to come. he sat across from her and started the motor. they lightly bounced on the choppy wildness of the sea. Sara thought of the canter of her horse-days. the rhythm of this sea was much the same...he began a low whistle of a little tune. a mournful tune. Sara didn't ask what it was. it fit the weather. her heart. his heart. their bodies heading out along the coastline. going south away from the shore. but still safe enough into the shore. they could come in any time. set on no course. at home here on the sea. just leaving the storm growing around them... finally he spoke. you cold? no. hungry? no. would you tell me what we're doing, Sara? I don't know. well, this is going to look like we're running away together. yes. does that bother you? no. are we running away together? don't you know? no. I'm just here. I haven't given this any thought, Sara. I know. me neither. what do you want, Sara? Sara sighed quietly.
I want to not have to do anything. not to work. not to have children. not to be normal and not to be nice. not to be horrible, though. not that, either... not to be owned by anyone the way Sam owns me. not to be obliged to the family. any family. not even my own. not to have to go to bed with Sam every night. not to feel so trapped. not to blame anybody but myself. not to be hated for what I'm doing tonight. not to be some guy's fantasy lady either. not to have to cook for any body unless I feel like cooking. not to have day-by-day life cripple me up like an old married lady. not to grow old in a stupid way. not to die blaming marriage on my not becoming who I am. not to die not having figured out who I am... what I could do if I'd a mind to. not to blame a man for what I don't do with this life. not to be too hard on myself either. not to make any one sad who I love. not to have to face all those people who I'm hurting right now for being in this boat...it's all 'nots', John. I have no idea what I want. only what I don't want...
do you want me? Us? why not just take some boat out on your own...Sara?...
silence...
what do you want, John? why are you here with me now?
I want to be in this boat. I want to keep some distance between us and the storm coming on. I want you to be in this boat with me. I want to go back home then. by sea or by land. and not have it matter so much. to go home together. not to be afraid to just call everybody up and tell them that we're together now. that we are an 'us'. that every thing starts from now. that every thing that came before was important to others. but it wasn't important to us. that we wish it had been. but it wasn't. isn't. that people can fall where they may. on one side for us. the other side against us. that we won't care. we'll laugh into any wind. that we'll forgive each other for not going for the truth in any way. but now we will. somehow... we'll tell the truth all the time from now on. even if we have no idea how to tell the truth. even if the truth keeps hiding from us. and we don't have the where-with-all to find it in any way. that not even our failures will stop us. and not even our successes either. that we won't call this love until it comes up and knocks us over the head. demands us to spit out the words that explain this. maybe without using the word 'love' at all. that you'll cry when I'm gone to sea for a long time. that you'll make love with me endlessly when I come back to land. that you'll cry again when I go back out. every time. that we won't have children. you'll just work with children all the time. that will be enough for you...see, I know what I do want. I think. maybe. I don't know what I don't want. just what I do want. now....
silence. good silence. the sea settling down a bit. still just off the coast. probably time to stop worrying folks.
got your wits about you, John? want to go back with me to face some music?...yes...Sara?....
just get us back to shore safe together somehow, John...gotta keep our distance from these whales, as they say, John... we'll do all your poems about what you want. they are what I want too. I think. maybe... every body is going to yell at us. you ready?
can't hear them out here, Sara. the sea swallows every sound but its own sounds. we'll stay out here as long as you want....
no, I want to face every body. say the truth best I can. can you...?
stand right there with you? sure. I have nothing to hide yet. only myself. I'm too tall to hide....
he turned the boat about. guided her into the wind without strain. did not let her go astray. did not change course from home. going home. to the land. which would shelter them gently. this was his hope. it was her silent prayer. her mind and heart all clear now. the sea settling down into the night breeze... the sea rose and fell with the prayer: let this be where the beginning begins...let this be the real beginning. not all that was before. let this that we have now, in this boat, shelter us night and day. no...not quite...that's up to us. we will have to shelter each other. night and day....
on the pier Sam and the family were waiting. where did you go?, Sam shouted....
Home, Sam, Sara called back. I was running away. but now I'm going home, Sam. only not with you. forgiving in time. I hope for that. but right now, Sam...
right now...
I am beginning
to go home....
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