Rushing Whispers Bonus Chapter
Here is a bonus chapter for Rushing Whispers, set ten years after the beginning of the story. I'd been asked a few times if Willie ever started being nice and decided to write his "come to Jesus" moment.
August 23rd, 1980
[Willie’s POV]
I fought against myself and opened my eyes. Steam rose from the engine and I groaned a curse at the tires for having slipped. I hadn’t broken any bones, lucky enough, but I knew I’d begin to bruise in a few hours’ time.
I crawled over the console and managed to pry the passenger side door open and slump onto the ground beside my car. I lay on the ground for a few minutes and caught my breath, then tripped over a fallen branch once I’d stood up. I took one look at my car and frowned with disappointment. Though it was nearly brand new and still smelled like the factory, now it was useless.
I slowly circled around it, feeling less steady than I’d have liked to be— and resolutely ignored the growing ache of my muscles. The front fender on the driver’s side was firmly embedded into a roadside pole, and the quarter panel on the same side was snuggly crushed against a tree. ‘Just scrap it and get a new one,’ I told myself. The car’s damage wasn’t massive but after what I’d just been through, I knew I wouldn’t drive it again even if fully restored.
Everything I’d brought with me was on my person; I’d left the house in a rush of frustration and was on the road before I realized I’d gotten in the car. It had been around midnight when I entered my home and saw Elena sitting at the dining table, waiting for me expectantly.
We’d broken up more than a year ago and I’d spent the time since reminding her of it every week; or at least that’s what it felt like to me. I started shouting for her to leave, but she didn’t move. “What don’t you understand?” I demanded, slamming my hand on the table. “Why won’t you stay out of my life!”
I saw her flinch as if I scared her, and nastily wondered to myself what she was afraid of, when she was the one breaking into homes at night. I knew she wouldn’t leave without trying to coax me to bed, as that’s always how we ended nights like these, so I turned around and stormed out the door.
Now, I had no choice but to walk back in the direction I'd come from and head northwest on the paved road. Hopefully, Elena would be gone by the time I'd make it home— likely by late in the day, as I’d been driving for at least an hour and would need to find an inn for the night.
I struggled to keep certain thoughts out of my mind, though they threatened to break through at any moment. But when I caught sight of the road sign ahead of me announcing a secondary road leading into Edinburgh by way of Blackford, my mental floodgates opened.
~~~~
I hesitated for a long time at the end of the driveway. It had been almost two years since I'd seen either of them, and I wasn't confident they'd be happy to see me at their door in the middle of the night.
“Don't be a baby,” I spat aloud, though no one but me could have heard, and set off towards the house.
The curtains were drawn shut, as I would have expected, though I was surprised to see the glow of a lamp from the sitting room window. Perhaps they were awake, and my appearance wouldn't be an intrusion? “You can only hope,” I muttered to myself.
I stood on the landing and forced myself to knock. In a strange way, I hoped they wouldn't hear it. I waited for a minute then decided to leave without bothering them. I caught sight of the curtain shifting as I turned away, so I spun around and knocked once more despite my reservations.
I heard the lock being released inside and tried to look mildly presentable as the door opened slowly. The look on her face made it clear that I had failed to do so.
“Hello.” It was a feeble introduction, but as much as I could muster.
Emily nearly gasped in surprise. “Willie,” was all she said, for a moment. Her eyes took in my appearance, and I cursed myself for having come to their home. “Do you want to come in?”
“No, no, I couldn’t,” I answered in a rush. “I was just driving nearby and decided to drop in.” I wasn’t sure why I lied to her.
Her hand was on the doorknob as she peered around me questioningly. “Where’s your car?”
I shrugged lightly. There was no point being deceitful. “Wrapped around a pole down the road.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “You were in an accident.” She wasn’t asking.
“Nothing major,” I mumbled, feeling her eyes on me like a burning stare. Even with how I felt, seeing her after so long was soothing. I hadn’t realized how much I missed them.
“Come inside, Willie,” she urged, opening the door wide so I could enter.
I lifted my hands helplessly, and honestly felt like I was. “I don’t want to intrude, really, Emily.”
Emily took two steps and was out of view for a moment. I didn’t have time to wonder where she’d gone before she returned, thrusting something small into my hand. “The key to the guest house. Get a head start and I’ll bring you some water and something to eat,” she told me. “And a few bandages.”
I stared at the key in my palm, then looked back at her. I had only opened my mouth to speak when she interrupted my attempt.
“Not negotiable.”
I nodded once, and a small smile crept onto my face despite myself. She spoke as if I was a child being naughty, and the authority in her voice was undeniable. I turned away from the front door and looked toward the path leading away from the house, hearing her close the door quietly.
I hadn’t been at their home since the beginning of last year, but I doubted that a decade would make me forget the way to the guest house, let alone eighteen months. It wasn’t a long walk to the smaller building— and there was a good amount of space between it and the park that formed their property’s boundary— and I found the interior to be much the same as last time I’d seen it.
I closed the door behind me but left it unlocked. A large bed was against the far wall, with a dresser and the door to the bathroom next to it. The opposite wall was that of the kitchenette, and the circular dining table was positioned in the middle of the room. I pulled one of the chairs out and sat down, knowing I only had a few minutes to figure out what exactly I was doing here.
Emily would ask, certainly. It wasn’t a regular occurrence to have an old friend show up at your door in the middle of the night, and even less so if that friend had been relatively absent lately. I’d come to the road sign not long after I’d begun to walk back towards my own home, and at the sight of it— Blackford: 3 miles— decided where I would go. It seemed foolish, even to me. How would I make it seem logical when Emily asked?
A brief knock at the door announced her arrival, and I suddenly found myself worrying over my appearance— I must have looked a mess just with how I was feeling, let alone that I’d crashed my car.
“Are you hurt badly?” Emily inquired worriedly as she closed the door behind her.
“A little sore,” I admitted shyly.
She lightly tossed a shopping bag onto the bed as she walked past it. “I figured you could use a change of clothes,” she said in explanation. Emily then sat down across from me, placing a paper bag and a bright yellow lunch box on the table. A closer look revealed it to be styled as a school bus, and I didn’t stop myself from chuckling.
“Tell me that’s not Cameron’s,” I said jokingly.
“No,” she assured me with a laugh. “Anna-Marie picked it out. She’s just started school.” She lifted the top and motioned at the water bottle and children’s snacks inside.
I felt like a fool; I hadn’t even realized that their children would be sleeping at this hour. “Does she like it? School,” I clarified.
Emily smiled, and I could see the pride in her eyes as she answered. “She doesn’t hate it, at least, but it’s only been a couple weeks. I think her brother is more upset than she is, that she’s not home all day,” she chuckled.
“He’ll recover,” I offered with a tiny grin.
Emily nodded in agreement, standing up as she dug through the paper bag. “Let me see your arm. You don’t look too cut up, but I want to look at that one closer.”
I tried to refuse but Emily was having none of my excuses, so I stopped giving them and relented to her.
“Not too bad, is it?” I asked, trying to sound lighthearted. I was wearing just my undershirt, having removed my buttoned shirt to give her better access to the cut, and found myself feeling uneasy.
“No, it’s not horrible,” she mumbled in reply. “But are you sure about not wanting to go to the hospital?”
“I’m sure,” I repeated, clenching my teeth at the surprisingly intense sting as Emily cleaned the cut.
“Do you have ringing in your ears or double vision?”
“No.”
“Alright,” she said after some hesitation. “But if you start feeling worse, you’re going and you’re not getting a say in it.”
I nodded, appreciating the concern. “Okay.”
I watched as she spread an ointment over the cut and placed the bandage she’d prepared over it, getting the feeling that she’d dressed more than a handful of wounds in recent years. Emily asked if I had any other wounds that needed tending and I told her the other scrapes would be fine on their own. “If you leave it here, though, I’ll double check before sleeping,” I mentioned, nodding towards the paper bag of medical supplies.
“Not a problem, Willie. Anyway, your legs aren’t broken,” she teased with a superstitious knock on the tabletop as she sat down, “so you can give yourself a sponge bath.”
I smiled and added to Emily’s soft laughter. The happy sound dissipated quickly, though, and I found myself staring at the grain of the wooden table.
“Can I ask,” Emily wondered after a long moment, “what that unlucky tree did at three in the morning?”
“I just… lost traction,” I shrugged.
“I’m glad you’re safe. That you’re okay.”
I tried to hide my frown by looking at my hands. ‘Am I okay?’ I asked myself, and didn’t quite know the answer. ‘What am I doing here?’
Come to think of it, I wasn’t entirely sure of the reason I felt so compelled to come here once I’d realized how closeby I was. I’d been so busy fighting my own demons— some of them I’d only imagined but others were very real and present— that I’d neglected to think of anyone else. It still seemed horribly intrusive and insensitive of me to have come here like this after so long. But I was here, so I could only make the best of it.
“I want to apologize.” I’d spoken softly, in barely a whisper, but the words sounded like thunder to my own ears. “For how I’ve acted.”
“Willie, you were in a car accident,” she replied. She sounded affronted, and as if her reasoning made perfect sense.
I shook my head. “I’ve been a mean person for a long time, Emily.” The statement felt like nails in my throat. “I’m realizing that it’s not the best way to be.”
She said nothing. Not that I expected her to, either. We had had our fair share of difficulties in the last ten years, but I had always known she would lend an ear to anyone in need. I rarely admitted it aloud, but sometimes it would have helped to have someone listen.
“Growing up, a lot of bad happened to me,” I confessed. “But the same happened to you, to your sister. To Cameron. And you’re all kind people despite it.”
“You can’t compare one persons’ trauma to another’s, Willie,” she insisted stubbornly. “It’s all very personal.”
“Well.” I forced myself to speak. “I don’t know if Cameron’s ever told you. My father served in the war, but he came back a different man. A traumatized man.”
Emily’s expression changed in an instant, but I didn’t meet her gaze. I took a sip from the bottle of water she’d brought, and felt the thick silence in the room. ‘To hell with it,’ I said to myself.
“I started primary school the year after he’d returned. Word was already out that I had a crazy father.” The words came out with more anger than I meant, so I paused for a moment before continuing. “You wouldn’t have recognized me, if you’d seen me then, Emily.”
She spoke, her voice soft and gentle. “What were you like?”
I let out a huff through my nose. “My mother would say I was bright-eyed. I was curious, and outgoing. Optimistic, even.” I shook my head subtly and met her eyes, which were focused on me with worry. Embarrassment flooded my veins. “Anyway, I’ve been rambling. You don’t have to stay, I’m fine.”
Even though I’d said it, I hoped she wouldn’t leave. I realized she wouldn’t when a full minute passed in silence without her standing from the table.
“I’m staying,” she finally said, her voice firm.
I looked at her and felt a desire to smile. She was commanding, no doubt, but it was always clear she understood. I nodded my head slightly.
“You know,” Emily began as she brushed the hair out of her face and shifted in her chair. “No one experiences pain the same way. All we can do is learn from what we’ve gone through. I don’t know if you ever knew this, really,” she added quietly. I watched her inhale deeply before she continued. “My father used to beat my mom. He beat on Liliane, too. I was lucky, really, that he never laid a hand on me.”
I couldn’t stop the surprise from showing on my face. I vaguely remembered her mentioning her father’s disposition many years ago, but she had never outright told me that he’d been physically abusive.
“It doesn’t mean that I hurt less than Liliane does,” she added in a solemn tone. “I was fifteen when our mom died, and he picked up and left one day. It hadn’t even been a week. We stayed with our grandmother, Mom’s mom, after that and… I felt free. Mom was dead, but none of us had to live with that bastard anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” I told her honestly.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” she replied, a smile on her face despite the subject. “I took my pain and learned from it and I’d never done anything harder. But that’s all you can do, really, after a while. Learn and grow from what you’ve lived through.”
I nodded. I understood what she was saying, but knew if it had been said to me yesterday, or even six hours ago, I wouldn’t have grasped it as tightly as I did now. Her words rang in my ears: grow from what you’ve lived through.
“They say your life flashes before your eyes when you face death,” I murmured. “The moment I felt the tires lose grip… I didn’t see my life in my mind. I only saw all those people who cared and I’d pushed away.” I didn’t expect her to know what to say, and I didn’t blame her when she stayed quiet. I felt strangely comfortable, sitting here with Emily, in spite of the candor I would normally shy away from.
Recalling the initial slip on the road brought those images to mind once more, and I closed my eyes for a moment. I’d ruined friendships and relationships, burned the business cards of people I felt had wronged me. But it was my fault, and only mine, when the one person I cared for without condition turned away.
No, that’s not true— I had pushed her away. Perhaps the worst part of it was that I’d been warned, and many times at that. Told not to hurt her, and then I did just that.
“Cameron was the only person I could relate to,” I admitted to Emily. “We went to the same primary school, you know. We were very different from each other then, and we still are. But I knew he could see the pain I felt, even though I did everything I could to hide it. He’s one of the few people I’ve ever let into my life.”
“We’re lucky to have him,” Emily said in a soft voice.
She was right; we were lucky to know him. Cameron seemed to give a piece of himself to everyone he cared for, and he always trusted they’d care for that piece of him. I thought I had done that, but now I had my doubts.
“We are,” I replied. “I have no doubt I’d have turned out much worse without Cameron as a true friend. I have many regrets in my life, but that man is not one of them.”
~~~~
“You’re sure?”
I smiled at her, and nodded. “Yes. It’s nearly dawn, Emily. Get some sleep.”
She frowned but allowed me to lead her to the door. “Come to the house when you’re ready, Willie. But have a long, comatose sleep first,” she added.
“I will,” I assured her as I opened the door. “Thank you, Emily.”
She laid her hand on my arm for a brief second, and smiled faintly. “It’s no trouble at all,” she answered, and I knew she meant it.
I watched her follow the path back towards the house for a moment before I closed the door and walked over to the bathroom. I knew right away that I had a few dozen scrapes and that I’d bruise, but I wasn’t any less surprised to see the discolouration beginning to show.
‘You deserve it, you know,’ I spat to myself. A quiet voice in the back of my mind pushed against that notion, insisting that I didn’t deserve the bruises. Maybe I didn’t— but I was bruised, and they’d only deepen in colour by morning. What difference would it make now, if I felt I’d deserved to be hurt?
The voice in my head grew louder, and I recognized it. “It makes all the difference in the world. You’re allowed to forgive yourself, William.” Autumn had spoken those words to me four years ago, when I'd told her some of the things I held inside me. In my mind's eye, I could still see what had led to my confession.
I slowly became aware of my surroundings, but the loud thrumming between my ears was making it difficult to piece the information together. I sat up and tried to speak, but I only managed to utter a grunt.
“Hey, look who it is,” Autumn grumbled.
Her voice came from behind me, so I turned around to see her sitting at the table.
“Is the agent provocateur reporting for duty?” she added scathingly.
I realized I was sitting on a sofa, and I rubbed my hands on my face to rouse my senses. “Where are we?”
“My apartment.”
I hadn’t expected that; I’d never seen her apartment before. “Why?”
“So you could sleep off your escapade,” she spat. I’d made her angry, but I only had a vague memory of sitting with her at dinner. Before I could ask what had happened, she shot me a doubtful stare. “Do you honestly not remember starting a brawl in the brewery?”
"Ah," I mumbled. "It's coming back to me now."
Bits and pieces of the evening came to mind; did I drink too much? I could usually hold myself together even with an absurd amount of alcohol, unless I was angered by something.
Autumn stood in a flash and stalked over to the sink, bracing her hands on the counter. "Have you no shame at all?" she demanded, her voice rising in frustration.
"I do," I admitted slowly. "I'm just good at hiding it."
Autumn sighed, clearly aggravated with me. "Maybe you should show it sometimes." She paused, but only for ten seconds. "You tell me you love me, and I follow you for tens of thousands of miles because I love you back. Then, you're off to Holland for two years and you barely even write to me!"
She was still gripping the countertop, her knuckles white with exertion. Her words stung me like vinegar, but I knew she was right.
"I'm still wondering what the hell I did wrong when you come back and want to try again. The fucking gall of it, Willie! And now, this? What is wrong with you!"
I stayed silent, but her question echoed in my mind. "A lot of things," I eventually answered.
August 23rd, 1980
[Willie’s POV]
I fought against myself and opened my eyes. Steam rose from the engine and I groaned a curse at the tires for having slipped. I hadn’t broken any bones, lucky enough, but I knew I’d begin to bruise in a few hours’ time.
I crawled over the console and managed to pry the passenger side door open and slump onto the ground beside my car. I lay on the ground for a few minutes and caught my breath, then tripped over a fallen branch once I’d stood up. I took one look at my car and frowned with disappointment. Though it was nearly brand new and still smelled like the factory, now it was useless.
I slowly circled around it, feeling less steady than I’d have liked to be— and resolutely ignored the growing ache of my muscles. The front fender on the driver’s side was firmly embedded into a roadside pole, and the quarter panel on the same side was snuggly crushed against a tree. ‘Just scrap it and get a new one,’ I told myself. The car’s damage wasn’t massive but after what I’d just been through, I knew I wouldn’t drive it again even if fully restored.
Everything I’d brought with me was on my person; I’d left the house in a rush of frustration and was on the road before I realized I’d gotten in the car. It had been around midnight when I entered my home and saw Elena sitting at the dining table, waiting for me expectantly.
We’d broken up more than a year ago and I’d spent the time since reminding her of it every week; or at least that’s what it felt like to me. I started shouting for her to leave, but she didn’t move. “What don’t you understand?” I demanded, slamming my hand on the table. “Why won’t you stay out of my life!”
I saw her flinch as if I scared her, and nastily wondered to myself what she was afraid of, when she was the one breaking into homes at night. I knew she wouldn’t leave without trying to coax me to bed, as that’s always how we ended nights like these, so I turned around and stormed out the door.
Now, I had no choice but to walk back in the direction I'd come from and head northwest on the paved road. Hopefully, Elena would be gone by the time I'd make it home— likely by late in the day, as I’d been driving for at least an hour and would need to find an inn for the night.
I struggled to keep certain thoughts out of my mind, though they threatened to break through at any moment. But when I caught sight of the road sign ahead of me announcing a secondary road leading into Edinburgh by way of Blackford, my mental floodgates opened.
~~~~
I hesitated for a long time at the end of the driveway. It had been almost two years since I'd seen either of them, and I wasn't confident they'd be happy to see me at their door in the middle of the night.
“Don't be a baby,” I spat aloud, though no one but me could have heard, and set off towards the house.
The curtains were drawn shut, as I would have expected, though I was surprised to see the glow of a lamp from the sitting room window. Perhaps they were awake, and my appearance wouldn't be an intrusion? “You can only hope,” I muttered to myself.
I stood on the landing and forced myself to knock. In a strange way, I hoped they wouldn't hear it. I waited for a minute then decided to leave without bothering them. I caught sight of the curtain shifting as I turned away, so I spun around and knocked once more despite my reservations.
I heard the lock being released inside and tried to look mildly presentable as the door opened slowly. The look on her face made it clear that I had failed to do so.
“Hello.” It was a feeble introduction, but as much as I could muster.
Emily nearly gasped in surprise. “Willie,” was all she said, for a moment. Her eyes took in my appearance, and I cursed myself for having come to their home. “Do you want to come in?”
“No, no, I couldn’t,” I answered in a rush. “I was just driving nearby and decided to drop in.” I wasn’t sure why I lied to her.
Her hand was on the doorknob as she peered around me questioningly. “Where’s your car?”
I shrugged lightly. There was no point being deceitful. “Wrapped around a pole down the road.”
Emily’s eyes widened. “You were in an accident.” She wasn’t asking.
“Nothing major,” I mumbled, feeling her eyes on me like a burning stare. Even with how I felt, seeing her after so long was soothing. I hadn’t realized how much I missed them.
“Come inside, Willie,” she urged, opening the door wide so I could enter.
I lifted my hands helplessly, and honestly felt like I was. “I don’t want to intrude, really, Emily.”
Emily took two steps and was out of view for a moment. I didn’t have time to wonder where she’d gone before she returned, thrusting something small into my hand. “The key to the guest house. Get a head start and I’ll bring you some water and something to eat,” she told me. “And a few bandages.”
I stared at the key in my palm, then looked back at her. I had only opened my mouth to speak when she interrupted my attempt.
“Not negotiable.”
I nodded once, and a small smile crept onto my face despite myself. She spoke as if I was a child being naughty, and the authority in her voice was undeniable. I turned away from the front door and looked toward the path leading away from the house, hearing her close the door quietly.
I hadn’t been at their home since the beginning of last year, but I doubted that a decade would make me forget the way to the guest house, let alone eighteen months. It wasn’t a long walk to the smaller building— and there was a good amount of space between it and the park that formed their property’s boundary— and I found the interior to be much the same as last time I’d seen it.
I closed the door behind me but left it unlocked. A large bed was against the far wall, with a dresser and the door to the bathroom next to it. The opposite wall was that of the kitchenette, and the circular dining table was positioned in the middle of the room. I pulled one of the chairs out and sat down, knowing I only had a few minutes to figure out what exactly I was doing here.
Emily would ask, certainly. It wasn’t a regular occurrence to have an old friend show up at your door in the middle of the night, and even less so if that friend had been relatively absent lately. I’d come to the road sign not long after I’d begun to walk back towards my own home, and at the sight of it— Blackford: 3 miles— decided where I would go. It seemed foolish, even to me. How would I make it seem logical when Emily asked?
A brief knock at the door announced her arrival, and I suddenly found myself worrying over my appearance— I must have looked a mess just with how I was feeling, let alone that I’d crashed my car.
“Are you hurt badly?” Emily inquired worriedly as she closed the door behind her.
“A little sore,” I admitted shyly.
She lightly tossed a shopping bag onto the bed as she walked past it. “I figured you could use a change of clothes,” she said in explanation. Emily then sat down across from me, placing a paper bag and a bright yellow lunch box on the table. A closer look revealed it to be styled as a school bus, and I didn’t stop myself from chuckling.
“Tell me that’s not Cameron’s,” I said jokingly.
“No,” she assured me with a laugh. “Anna-Marie picked it out. She’s just started school.” She lifted the top and motioned at the water bottle and children’s snacks inside.
I felt like a fool; I hadn’t even realized that their children would be sleeping at this hour. “Does she like it? School,” I clarified.
Emily smiled, and I could see the pride in her eyes as she answered. “She doesn’t hate it, at least, but it’s only been a couple weeks. I think her brother is more upset than she is, that she’s not home all day,” she chuckled.
“He’ll recover,” I offered with a tiny grin.
Emily nodded in agreement, standing up as she dug through the paper bag. “Let me see your arm. You don’t look too cut up, but I want to look at that one closer.”
I tried to refuse but Emily was having none of my excuses, so I stopped giving them and relented to her.
“Not too bad, is it?” I asked, trying to sound lighthearted. I was wearing just my undershirt, having removed my buttoned shirt to give her better access to the cut, and found myself feeling uneasy.
“No, it’s not horrible,” she mumbled in reply. “But are you sure about not wanting to go to the hospital?”
“I’m sure,” I repeated, clenching my teeth at the surprisingly intense sting as Emily cleaned the cut.
“Do you have ringing in your ears or double vision?”
“No.”
“Alright,” she said after some hesitation. “But if you start feeling worse, you’re going and you’re not getting a say in it.”
I nodded, appreciating the concern. “Okay.”
I watched as she spread an ointment over the cut and placed the bandage she’d prepared over it, getting the feeling that she’d dressed more than a handful of wounds in recent years. Emily asked if I had any other wounds that needed tending and I told her the other scrapes would be fine on their own. “If you leave it here, though, I’ll double check before sleeping,” I mentioned, nodding towards the paper bag of medical supplies.
“Not a problem, Willie. Anyway, your legs aren’t broken,” she teased with a superstitious knock on the tabletop as she sat down, “so you can give yourself a sponge bath.”
I smiled and added to Emily’s soft laughter. The happy sound dissipated quickly, though, and I found myself staring at the grain of the wooden table.
“Can I ask,” Emily wondered after a long moment, “what that unlucky tree did at three in the morning?”
“I just… lost traction,” I shrugged.
“I’m glad you’re safe. That you’re okay.”
I tried to hide my frown by looking at my hands. ‘Am I okay?’ I asked myself, and didn’t quite know the answer. ‘What am I doing here?’
Come to think of it, I wasn’t entirely sure of the reason I felt so compelled to come here once I’d realized how closeby I was. I’d been so busy fighting my own demons— some of them I’d only imagined but others were very real and present— that I’d neglected to think of anyone else. It still seemed horribly intrusive and insensitive of me to have come here like this after so long. But I was here, so I could only make the best of it.
“I want to apologize.” I’d spoken softly, in barely a whisper, but the words sounded like thunder to my own ears. “For how I’ve acted.”
“Willie, you were in a car accident,” she replied. She sounded affronted, and as if her reasoning made perfect sense.
I shook my head. “I’ve been a mean person for a long time, Emily.” The statement felt like nails in my throat. “I’m realizing that it’s not the best way to be.”
She said nothing. Not that I expected her to, either. We had had our fair share of difficulties in the last ten years, but I had always known she would lend an ear to anyone in need. I rarely admitted it aloud, but sometimes it would have helped to have someone listen.
“Growing up, a lot of bad happened to me,” I confessed. “But the same happened to you, to your sister. To Cameron. And you’re all kind people despite it.”
“You can’t compare one persons’ trauma to another’s, Willie,” she insisted stubbornly. “It’s all very personal.”
“Well.” I forced myself to speak. “I don’t know if Cameron’s ever told you. My father served in the war, but he came back a different man. A traumatized man.”
Emily’s expression changed in an instant, but I didn’t meet her gaze. I took a sip from the bottle of water she’d brought, and felt the thick silence in the room. ‘To hell with it,’ I said to myself.
“I started primary school the year after he’d returned. Word was already out that I had a crazy father.” The words came out with more anger than I meant, so I paused for a moment before continuing. “You wouldn’t have recognized me, if you’d seen me then, Emily.”
She spoke, her voice soft and gentle. “What were you like?”
I let out a huff through my nose. “My mother would say I was bright-eyed. I was curious, and outgoing. Optimistic, even.” I shook my head subtly and met her eyes, which were focused on me with worry. Embarrassment flooded my veins. “Anyway, I’ve been rambling. You don’t have to stay, I’m fine.”
Even though I’d said it, I hoped she wouldn’t leave. I realized she wouldn’t when a full minute passed in silence without her standing from the table.
“I’m staying,” she finally said, her voice firm.
I looked at her and felt a desire to smile. She was commanding, no doubt, but it was always clear she understood. I nodded my head slightly.
“You know,” Emily began as she brushed the hair out of her face and shifted in her chair. “No one experiences pain the same way. All we can do is learn from what we’ve gone through. I don’t know if you ever knew this, really,” she added quietly. I watched her inhale deeply before she continued. “My father used to beat my mom. He beat on Liliane, too. I was lucky, really, that he never laid a hand on me.”
I couldn’t stop the surprise from showing on my face. I vaguely remembered her mentioning her father’s disposition many years ago, but she had never outright told me that he’d been physically abusive.
“It doesn’t mean that I hurt less than Liliane does,” she added in a solemn tone. “I was fifteen when our mom died, and he picked up and left one day. It hadn’t even been a week. We stayed with our grandmother, Mom’s mom, after that and… I felt free. Mom was dead, but none of us had to live with that bastard anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” I told her honestly.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” she replied, a smile on her face despite the subject. “I took my pain and learned from it and I’d never done anything harder. But that’s all you can do, really, after a while. Learn and grow from what you’ve lived through.”
I nodded. I understood what she was saying, but knew if it had been said to me yesterday, or even six hours ago, I wouldn’t have grasped it as tightly as I did now. Her words rang in my ears: grow from what you’ve lived through.
“They say your life flashes before your eyes when you face death,” I murmured. “The moment I felt the tires lose grip… I didn’t see my life in my mind. I only saw all those people who cared and I’d pushed away.” I didn’t expect her to know what to say, and I didn’t blame her when she stayed quiet. I felt strangely comfortable, sitting here with Emily, in spite of the candor I would normally shy away from.
Recalling the initial slip on the road brought those images to mind once more, and I closed my eyes for a moment. I’d ruined friendships and relationships, burned the business cards of people I felt had wronged me. But it was my fault, and only mine, when the one person I cared for without condition turned away.
No, that’s not true— I had pushed her away. Perhaps the worst part of it was that I’d been warned, and many times at that. Told not to hurt her, and then I did just that.
“Cameron was the only person I could relate to,” I admitted to Emily. “We went to the same primary school, you know. We were very different from each other then, and we still are. But I knew he could see the pain I felt, even though I did everything I could to hide it. He’s one of the few people I’ve ever let into my life.”
“We’re lucky to have him,” Emily said in a soft voice.
She was right; we were lucky to know him. Cameron seemed to give a piece of himself to everyone he cared for, and he always trusted they’d care for that piece of him. I thought I had done that, but now I had my doubts.
“We are,” I replied. “I have no doubt I’d have turned out much worse without Cameron as a true friend. I have many regrets in my life, but that man is not one of them.”
~~~~
“You’re sure?”
I smiled at her, and nodded. “Yes. It’s nearly dawn, Emily. Get some sleep.”
She frowned but allowed me to lead her to the door. “Come to the house when you’re ready, Willie. But have a long, comatose sleep first,” she added.
“I will,” I assured her as I opened the door. “Thank you, Emily.”
She laid her hand on my arm for a brief second, and smiled faintly. “It’s no trouble at all,” she answered, and I knew she meant it.
I watched her follow the path back towards the house for a moment before I closed the door and walked over to the bathroom. I knew right away that I had a few dozen scrapes and that I’d bruise, but I wasn’t any less surprised to see the discolouration beginning to show.
‘You deserve it, you know,’ I spat to myself. A quiet voice in the back of my mind pushed against that notion, insisting that I didn’t deserve the bruises. Maybe I didn’t— but I was bruised, and they’d only deepen in colour by morning. What difference would it make now, if I felt I’d deserved to be hurt?
The voice in my head grew louder, and I recognized it. “It makes all the difference in the world. You’re allowed to forgive yourself, William.” Autumn had spoken those words to me four years ago, when I'd told her some of the things I held inside me. In my mind's eye, I could still see what had led to my confession.
I slowly became aware of my surroundings, but the loud thrumming between my ears was making it difficult to piece the information together. I sat up and tried to speak, but I only managed to utter a grunt.
“Hey, look who it is,” Autumn grumbled.
Her voice came from behind me, so I turned around to see her sitting at the table.
“Is the agent provocateur reporting for duty?” she added scathingly.
I realized I was sitting on a sofa, and I rubbed my hands on my face to rouse my senses. “Where are we?”
“My apartment.”
I hadn’t expected that; I’d never seen her apartment before. “Why?”
“So you could sleep off your escapade,” she spat. I’d made her angry, but I only had a vague memory of sitting with her at dinner. Before I could ask what had happened, she shot me a doubtful stare. “Do you honestly not remember starting a brawl in the brewery?”
"Ah," I mumbled. "It's coming back to me now."
Bits and pieces of the evening came to mind; did I drink too much? I could usually hold myself together even with an absurd amount of alcohol, unless I was angered by something.
Autumn stood in a flash and stalked over to the sink, bracing her hands on the counter. "Have you no shame at all?" she demanded, her voice rising in frustration.
"I do," I admitted slowly. "I'm just good at hiding it."
Autumn sighed, clearly aggravated with me. "Maybe you should show it sometimes." She paused, but only for ten seconds. "You tell me you love me, and I follow you for tens of thousands of miles because I love you back. Then, you're off to Holland for two years and you barely even write to me!"
She was still gripping the countertop, her knuckles white with exertion. Her words stung me like vinegar, but I knew she was right.
"I'm still wondering what the hell I did wrong when you come back and want to try again. The fucking gall of it, Willie! And now, this? What is wrong with you!"
I stayed silent, but her question echoed in my mind. "A lot of things," I eventually answered.
Autumn released the counter from her grip and walked towards me, stopping once she'd reached the arm of the sofa. "So tell me, William," she pleaded. My heart ached, hearing the pain I'd caused her. "Tell me, and let me understand."
I snapped myself out of the memory and undressed to shower. I thanked God I was able to keep my mind blank, focusing on the hot water and the way it soothed my cramped muscles. I dried off and silently praised Emily for having brought me clean clothes as I emptied the bag she’d placed on the bed.
I chuckled at the sight of a still-wrapped pair of underwear. “At least I won’t be wearing Cameron’s old pants,” I said aloud. The jeans however, were Cameron’s, and I vaguely recognized the faded t-shirt as one he had worn years ago.
I tossed the shirt and jeans I’d been wearing onto the dresser and crawled into the bed, grateful for the comforting weight of the blanket. I closed the light and then my eyes before succumbing to sleep within moments.
~~~~
I slept deeply all night, and all morning. I finally woke as the clock neared eleven, and found myself wondering about the dream I’d had. It must have been similar to what Cameron experienced when he dreamt about that translucent woman; he’d often told me of the ethereal feeling those dreams left him with, and how he felt they were glimpses of knowledge.
My own dream had been both of those. I walked along a wooded path in silence, oblivious to the grey surrounding me until I saw a flash of colour. At the sight of it, fleeting as a scarf caught in the wind, I saw that the landscape was entirely grey, whether light or dark in shade. The scarf— that’s what it was, I realized— drifted in the wind and fluttered to the ground in front of me. I took it in my hands and looked over it carefully; it felt bizarre to be holding this bright piece of cloth. Without quite knowing why, I folded the scarf and put it in my pocket for safekeeping. When I looked back at the trees around me, there was colour.
“First a car crash and now allegories in my sleep,” I mumbled to myself as I got dressed.
It did seem odd that I would have such a dream after a night filled with anger, shame, and guilt, quickly followed by empathy and true realization. Regardless, it seemed that during the night I’d gone from who I was to who I will be, and I felt hopeful.
I took Anna-Marie’s lunch box off of the table and brought it outside with me. I locked the door, put the key in my pocket, and smoked a cigarette to fortify my nerves before heading to the main house.
I glanced in the window and saw Emily sitting at the kitchen table, though she wasn’t facing me. I slowly opened the back door and let myself in.
Emily turned in her chair at the sound of my entrance. “Did you manage to sleep?” she asked, standing to bring her cup to the counter. “Coffee?”
“Please,” I answered. “And yes, I slept some.”
“Good.” She poured a new cup and pointed to a jar on the counter. “Sugar, and the milk’s in the fridge.”
I thanked her and prepared it to my tastes before joining her at the kitchen table.
“I think I mentioned last night,” she began slowly, “but we’re having a few people over today.”
“You did,” I told her. “Are you wanting me to leave?”
“No, of course not,” she scoffed. “You’re more than welcome to stay.”
I smiled, pleased that I wasn’t being ousted. “What’s the occasion?”
“My birthday party,” Emily revealed after a sip of her coffee.
“It’s your birthday?” I bemoaned. “Lord, what a night to have shown up here.”
“It was yesterday. And if you can excuse the ooze of sap, it means a lot that you’re here.”
I could tell by the expression on her face that she was being sincere, so I forced a smile. “The oozing sap is forgiven,” I answered.
As noon approached, I helped Emily lay out food she’d prepared yesterday. We talked as we did so, and she told me that Cameron had taken Anna-Marie and Graeme to Princes Street in the city center to pick up her gift. Emily had mentioned last night that Anna-Marie was starting kindergarten, but it still surprised me to no end that Graeme was nearly four years old— had the time really passed so quickly?
“Lee and my sister will be coming too,” Emily informed me. “They should arrive around one o’clock.”
“It’ll be nice to see them,” I replied honestly, but I didn’t have time to say anything else. I heard faint laughter coming from far away, and looked at Emily questioningly.
“The kids,” she explained with a smile, putting down the plate of food she held and heading towards the front door.
I followed her, though hesitantly and at a distance. Emily had told me that Cameron knew I was here; she'd spoken with him early in the morning. Still, I worried— until the door opened and I saw Cameron's face.
He was grinning and happy to see me, which put me at ease. He carried a shopping bag with one arm and held Graeme in the other, the boy's arms wrapped around his neck. Anna-Marie had already run past her mother and promptly vanished into the kitchen.
Emily only lingered for a moment, kissing Cameron fleetingly and taking their son from him in nearly the same movement. He watched as she left the room, then turned his attention to me.
"It's good to see you," he said assuredly.
I shook his outstretched hand and smiled. "You too, Cameron."
“Come upstairs with me, will you?” Cameron asked, lifting the shopping bag slightly. “I need to wrap Emily’s gift.”
I followed him down the hallway, hearing Emily chatting away to her children in the kitchen. Once at the top of the stairs we walked into the first door on the left, which turned out to be a quasi-library.
Cameron waved his hand, motioning me to close the door behind me. “I don’t want Emily to know what I’ve gotten for her,” he explained.
“She’s not in the kitchen? Surely she wouldn’t overhear from that far away.”
“She won’t, no.” Cameron removed two small boxes from the shopping bag, placing them on the desk carefully. “But Anna-Marie is masterfully stealthy,” he chuckled.
“You seem happy, Cameron,” I noted quietly.
He smiled, and it lit up his face. “I am, and I’m lucky for it. Do you want to see what it is?” he added, nodding to the two boxes.
I accepted, and he carefully lifted the lid off one of the boxes. The four sides fell open, revealing a model spacecraft the size of a paperback. He did the same to the second box, which held a nearly identical model.
“They’re scale models of Pioneer 10 and 11. They were launched to fly by Jupiter and Saturn, and Emily’s always been enthralled by them,” he elaborated. “I had these commissioned months ago but the builder got delayed, so they were only ready today.”
Cameron motioned towards the rest of the room and told me to make myself comfortable, so I sat down on an armchair. “She’ll love them, I’m sure. You've always had a knack for gift-giving.”
"I'd like to think I do," he admitted, closing the two boxes and preparing to wrap them in patterned paper. "Though I have a feeling it'll be you she's most happy about."
He'd said it casually, but I still felt my stomach knot. "I hadn't meant to intrude on anything, really. I'd been driving and—"
"Emily told me, Willie. You don't need to apologize for coming to our house," he scoffed.
"I do need to apologize, though, Cameron."
"What for?" His head was bent in concentration, and thankfully so. It was easier to confess without eye contact.
"You very well know what for," I retorted.
"There's a few things that come to mind, I'll admit."
"Well, there you go," I sighed. "I should have been better."
Cameron lifted his head and turned to look at me, a knowing grin on his face. "Life usually finds a way of telling you what you need to change. Sometimes it'll be a birth or a death, but it looks like turning your car into a poorly-made pretzel worked for you."
~~~~
Not long after Cameron and I had emerged from the secrecy of wrapping Emily’s gift, Lee and Liliane arrived. They’d enjoyed four years as a married couple, not to mention their time as a serious item before that, and seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely.
Liliane remarked on my constantly-darkening bruises right away, but I assured her that I felt fine and I’d rested since last night’s accident. It seemed that Lee was more interested in what I’d been up to lately, though I was reluctant to admit that I hadn’t been doing much.
I'd begun to feel like myself again by mid-afternoon. There was finger food in abundance, which I gratefully shovelled into my mouth. Emily and her sister had gone upstairs for a moment and I'd just spotted a jar of delicious-looking blackcurrant jam when the doorbell rang.
Cameron and Lee glanced at each other wondering who would be at the door, as Emily's official party with many more friends in attendance had been yesterday. Before any speculation could be voiced, Anna-Marie ran towards the door just as we heard it open.
"Hello!"
I nearly choked on the soda I'd been drinking at the sound of Autumn's voice.
"You're here again?" Anna-Marie squealed in delight.
Colin answered, and I could hear the smile on his face. "Of course we are! We came just to bug you!"
Anna-Marie giggled maniacally at his teasing, and the laughter seemed to ease the surprise everyone felt from their appearance. My shock, however, was still very present.
I quickly drank my remaining soda and turned away from the threshold they would enter from. I rinsed the bottle and placed it on the counter with the other empty glasses, all while my mind ran in circles.
What cosmic force of irony was at work here? It was only last night that I'd become truly repentant for the turmoil I'd caused in my life. Causing Autumn to be in pain, and having let her down, was one of the things I truly regretted— and now here she was, in the same house as me.
Colin walked into the kitchen just as I turned to face their entrance. "Willie?" he questioned, clearly surprised.
I managed a strained smile, but I heard Autumn's voice coming from the sitting room before I could say anything to Colin. I didn't catch her words, but her disbelieving tone was obvious.
I was glad the radio was playing at a decent volume; I'm sure the drop of a pin could have been heard from Edinburgh Castle. Autumn walked in, noticeably stunned to realize I was actually here.
"Willie." Her voice didn't falter but her eyes were wide.
"Hello, Autumn," I answered. I felt as if I was stuttering but if I was, no one mentioned it. "Colin. It's nice to see you both."
I walked forward and reached out to shake Colin's hand, which he accepted. He then turned to Cameron and Lee, greeting them both in kind as they walked into the room. I forced myself to say something to Autumn, but she spoke before I could.
"It's a surprise to see you here," she said to me, giving me the briefest of hugs. "Nice, though."
"The feeling’s mutual," I remarked, and genuinely smiled.
~~~~
I opted to keep my beverages non-alcoholic, though I did have a small glass of whisky when a toast was made. We cheered to Emily’s birthday and the renewed year ahead of her, wishing her all the best. I truly did wish grand things for Emily— not only had she been a wonderful friend to me throughout the years, but she’d also made Cameron beyond happy and that was well worth it to me.
Somehow, I had managed to remain collected around Autumn, though with the whirlwind of thoughts going on inside my mind I’m not quite sure how I succeeded. I wanted to talk with her, to tell her things truthfully and admit that I had made mistakes. My own thirty-ninth birthday had been one month ago and the soul-searching I’d been doing for much of the year had only increased since.
Cameron and Emily were upstairs putting their children to bed when I realized I didn’t have much time left to speak with Autumn. I doubted that either she or Colin would spend the night; if I was ever going to tell her, it had to be now and not once I’d lost my courage.
I made my way into the kitchen, leaving the others chatting in the living room. A glass of water didn’t do much to settle my stomach and I hesitated to eat one of the miniature scones Liliane had brought, in case it made my nausea worse. I leaned back against the counter and sighed, wondering what to say to her first.
I heard a door open down the hall and peered out of the kitchen just as Autumn walked out of the washroom. ‘One step at a time, Willie,’ I reminded myself.
“Autumn?” I uttered, feeling completely terrified. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.”
I reached into the fridge as she entered the kitchen, offering her a soda. She declined, so I took one for myself and removed the lid as I leaned against the counter once more. “You’ve been doing well, I hope?”
“Can’t complain much,” she replied quietly, shifting her weight. “Yourself?”
“A tad sore but I’ll survive. It could have been worse.”
“What happened? You’ve got an abstract painting on your face,” she added, laughing under her breath.
I chuckled, a smile crossing my face at the sound of her laugh. “I skidded off the road last night, a mile or two away from here.” I tried to downplay the accident, but her face fell in shock. “I’m not hurt much, I only look beaten,” I added hastily.
“You crashed your car?”
“Not deliberately, but, yes.”
Autumn shook her head, scoffing. “Reckless fool,” she muttered, though I heard it clearly all the same.
“I can’t quite deny that,” I mumbled. Embarrassment was creeping up on me, and I knew I had to do something. "Would you like to come for a walk? If you'll indulge me," I blubbered.
Autumn paused for the briefest of moments, but I still prayed that she would agree. "Alright," she answered, the corners of her mouth curving into a small grin.
Before leaving by the kitchen door and heading into the yard, Autumn let Liliane know that we'd be out— only she and Emily were inside, as the trio of men were out front having a cigarette or two.
The night air was chilly; Autumn shivered at the first breeze.
"Would you like a coat?" I offered. "They've spare clothes in the guest house, I'm sure there's coats we could borrow."
Autumn nodded. "That doesn't sound too bad."
We kept silent until the guest house's porch light illuminated the ground ahead of us.
"Are you still living in Perth?" she inquired, watching me unlock the door.
I told her that I was, and asked where she'd been staying nowadays.
"I'm renting a small house in Stirling," she revealed, following me inside. "But if I need to spend time closer to home or if Colin needs to be in Scotland for work or something, we rotate. He's got a nice apartment in Warrington and it's only twenty miles or so from his parents."
We searched through the closet and found suitable coats for both of us. I pretended like I hadn't seen her do it, but Autumn glanced around and saw the pile of clothes I'd left on the dresser; her eyes widened when she noticed the dirt encrusted on them.
I was glad that Cameron's house was nestled against the seldom-used area of the park, as there was plenty of space to walk aimlessly with little worry of meeting a stranger. I was fighting myself in my thoughts, trying to come up with something decent to say to start off.
After a few minutes filled in side-by-side silence, Autumn spoke quietly. "Is everything alright, Willie?"
I shook my head, though I hoped she hadn't noticed. "Do you remember the week we spent in Portugal? We stayed at a hotel inside an old castle, just outside of Lisbon."
"Yes." She almost sounded pleased at the recollection, but not entirely. "It was during a break in the tour, wasn't it?."
Although Amoeba had been in full touring mode in the summer of ‘73, I’d taken advantage of a week's break between German and Portuguese concerts and surprised Autumn with a stay at the Castle of Óbidos. It had been a week well spent, for the most part.
“Do you also remember the night I was arrested?”
“You had to bribe the policeman to let you go,” she reminded me, shaking her head in forgotten annoyance. “I didn’t even know what you did to get arrested in the first place.”
I frowned, but decided to put the reason as simply as possible. “I acted like a brute.” I looked around us as we walked; the solitary path wove through a lightly-wooded area. As we walked out of the glow from one of the occasional lamps, I spoke again. “Some punter made a comment and I snapped back at him. It was a fistfight in no time. He was a local and I was a tourist, so I got the short end of the stick when the officers arrived.”
“I didn’t know that,” Autumn whispered eventually.
“I never told you. And I was a coward not to,” I retorted. We crossed into a patch of light and I stopped walking. Autumn did the same, and I met her questioning gaze despite the intense quiver of vulnerability I felt. “I hurt you with my own stupidity. My own… brash absurdity. And not only then,” I confessed.
Autumn’s face showed exactly the emotions she was going through. She was surprised, confused, and concerned all within a span of seconds. It was an agonizing wait for her to say something and I couldn’t face the possibility that she might hate me regardless of what I’d just said. I looked to the ground and grit my teeth, angry at myself for making her listen to me.
“You never answered my question.” She was baiting me, I knew, but I raised my head and met her gaze silently. Her eyes showed the concern that the rest of her was trying— and failing— to hide. She spoke, her voice so tender it almost hurt. “Is everything alright, Willie?”
“No, it isn’t.” I nudged a rock with my foot and shook my head. “I’ve been an ill-tempered prat and I lost you because of it.” The words stung in my ears, though I’d been the one to speak them.
Autumn replied immediately. “You didn’t lose me.”
“Didn’t I?” I scoffed. “I’ve loved you, Autumn. So much it frightened me. I felt you trying to get close to me, and I wanted to let you.” My voice sounded frail and my hands shook, but I kept talking. “I wanted you in my heart, believe me on that. And once you had one foot in the door… I was terrified, and I pushed you away.”
The momentary silence was deafening.
“Sit with me, won’t you?” she said to me, heading off towards a bench twenty feet away from us.
‘Have I made this worse?’ I asked myself, following Autumn to the bench. That she didn’t seem angry made no difference to my worry, which festered as I sat down beside her.
“What scared you so much?” Autumn asked after a moment, her voice soft.
“The vulnerability of it all,” I admitted in shame. “Thinking that I’d let you in, and you’d see who I am and decide to leave.”
“You really believed I would do that to you?”
“No,” I insisted, hearing the sadness in her voice. “But it didn’t stop me from thinking you might, and acting like you would. I know I hurt you, Autumn, and I’m sorry I did.”
Even to my own ears I sounded as if I’d begin to weep at any moment. Autumn must have heard it too, because she put her hand atop mine and squeezed. “Make it up to me, then,” she told me.
I chuckled, though with so little force it was barely more than a huff of air. “How?” I pleaded. It seemed an impossibility to offset the damage I’d done.
“Talk to me,” she answered simply. I looked at her, not sure if she was being serious, but she was. “Right now.”
She asked me to, so I did. Neither of us were wearing a watch, but time might as well have stood still as we sat by the path. It felt intensely odd to be pouring my heart out to Autumn, even though I knew she would stay and listen. After a time, with my chest aching and my mind fighting the urge to cry, she spoke.
“If I’ve learned anything in the last ten years, Willie… Sadness is a good lover. She’s attentive and all-consuming. Knows you like the back of her hand, and she’ll use you until you’re only bones.”
“Very poetic,” I murmured.
“The truth can be poetic,” she noted, turning to face me. The sheen of moisture in her eyes shined in the lamp’s light as she spoke. “When we stopped seeing each other, I had people telling me that you’d done the same as the rest of them. Almost every man I’ve dated has turned out to be a jackass,” she admitted slowly. “I had people I’d barely spoken to in years call me up and tell me that I was better off without you, and you were an asshole like the others.”
“Were they wrong?” I muttered rhetorically.
“Yes.” Autumn squeezed my hand again— she hadn’t let it go since we sat down. “I wouldn’t believe them, or I couldn’t. Maybe both. But I knew there was something inside you making you sad.”
I smiled, and wondered if I had been ruminating in my worry without reason. I lifted her hand and brought it to my lips, giving a quick kiss to the back of her hand. ‘This woman is too good.’
“You act like a jerk sometimes, but that’s not who you are. You’re a skilled musician, and a great storyteller,” she continued. Something about her tone hit me in the chest, and I was glossy-eyed with emotion when she told me to look at her. “You’re the sum of everything you’ve ever seen and felt and heard, William. You should be proud of that.”
I hadn’t heard my name spoken by her in years and it filled me with joy to hear it once again. I smiled, though I felt moderately bashful about it.
Autumn smiled too, and tightened her grip on my hand. “You didn’t turn out so bad.”
She’d spoken sweetly, and leaned towards me as she did. Her lips pressed to mine for a brief second, and though I ached to kiss her again, I only looked into her eyes when she pulled away. She was smiling shyly, and I thought I saw her cheeks flush with colour but I couldn’t be sure in the dim light.
“Sometimes you say more with silence than you do in words,” she told me quietly. “Like right now.”
I snapped myself out of the memory and undressed to shower. I thanked God I was able to keep my mind blank, focusing on the hot water and the way it soothed my cramped muscles. I dried off and silently praised Emily for having brought me clean clothes as I emptied the bag she’d placed on the bed.
I chuckled at the sight of a still-wrapped pair of underwear. “At least I won’t be wearing Cameron’s old pants,” I said aloud. The jeans however, were Cameron’s, and I vaguely recognized the faded t-shirt as one he had worn years ago.
I tossed the shirt and jeans I’d been wearing onto the dresser and crawled into the bed, grateful for the comforting weight of the blanket. I closed the light and then my eyes before succumbing to sleep within moments.
~~~~
I slept deeply all night, and all morning. I finally woke as the clock neared eleven, and found myself wondering about the dream I’d had. It must have been similar to what Cameron experienced when he dreamt about that translucent woman; he’d often told me of the ethereal feeling those dreams left him with, and how he felt they were glimpses of knowledge.
My own dream had been both of those. I walked along a wooded path in silence, oblivious to the grey surrounding me until I saw a flash of colour. At the sight of it, fleeting as a scarf caught in the wind, I saw that the landscape was entirely grey, whether light or dark in shade. The scarf— that’s what it was, I realized— drifted in the wind and fluttered to the ground in front of me. I took it in my hands and looked over it carefully; it felt bizarre to be holding this bright piece of cloth. Without quite knowing why, I folded the scarf and put it in my pocket for safekeeping. When I looked back at the trees around me, there was colour.
“First a car crash and now allegories in my sleep,” I mumbled to myself as I got dressed.
It did seem odd that I would have such a dream after a night filled with anger, shame, and guilt, quickly followed by empathy and true realization. Regardless, it seemed that during the night I’d gone from who I was to who I will be, and I felt hopeful.
I took Anna-Marie’s lunch box off of the table and brought it outside with me. I locked the door, put the key in my pocket, and smoked a cigarette to fortify my nerves before heading to the main house.
I glanced in the window and saw Emily sitting at the kitchen table, though she wasn’t facing me. I slowly opened the back door and let myself in.
Emily turned in her chair at the sound of my entrance. “Did you manage to sleep?” she asked, standing to bring her cup to the counter. “Coffee?”
“Please,” I answered. “And yes, I slept some.”
“Good.” She poured a new cup and pointed to a jar on the counter. “Sugar, and the milk’s in the fridge.”
I thanked her and prepared it to my tastes before joining her at the kitchen table.
“I think I mentioned last night,” she began slowly, “but we’re having a few people over today.”
“You did,” I told her. “Are you wanting me to leave?”
“No, of course not,” she scoffed. “You’re more than welcome to stay.”
I smiled, pleased that I wasn’t being ousted. “What’s the occasion?”
“My birthday party,” Emily revealed after a sip of her coffee.
“It’s your birthday?” I bemoaned. “Lord, what a night to have shown up here.”
“It was yesterday. And if you can excuse the ooze of sap, it means a lot that you’re here.”
I could tell by the expression on her face that she was being sincere, so I forced a smile. “The oozing sap is forgiven,” I answered.
As noon approached, I helped Emily lay out food she’d prepared yesterday. We talked as we did so, and she told me that Cameron had taken Anna-Marie and Graeme to Princes Street in the city center to pick up her gift. Emily had mentioned last night that Anna-Marie was starting kindergarten, but it still surprised me to no end that Graeme was nearly four years old— had the time really passed so quickly?
“Lee and my sister will be coming too,” Emily informed me. “They should arrive around one o’clock.”
“It’ll be nice to see them,” I replied honestly, but I didn’t have time to say anything else. I heard faint laughter coming from far away, and looked at Emily questioningly.
“The kids,” she explained with a smile, putting down the plate of food she held and heading towards the front door.
I followed her, though hesitantly and at a distance. Emily had told me that Cameron knew I was here; she'd spoken with him early in the morning. Still, I worried— until the door opened and I saw Cameron's face.
He was grinning and happy to see me, which put me at ease. He carried a shopping bag with one arm and held Graeme in the other, the boy's arms wrapped around his neck. Anna-Marie had already run past her mother and promptly vanished into the kitchen.
Emily only lingered for a moment, kissing Cameron fleetingly and taking their son from him in nearly the same movement. He watched as she left the room, then turned his attention to me.
"It's good to see you," he said assuredly.
I shook his outstretched hand and smiled. "You too, Cameron."
“Come upstairs with me, will you?” Cameron asked, lifting the shopping bag slightly. “I need to wrap Emily’s gift.”
I followed him down the hallway, hearing Emily chatting away to her children in the kitchen. Once at the top of the stairs we walked into the first door on the left, which turned out to be a quasi-library.
Cameron waved his hand, motioning me to close the door behind me. “I don’t want Emily to know what I’ve gotten for her,” he explained.
“She’s not in the kitchen? Surely she wouldn’t overhear from that far away.”
“She won’t, no.” Cameron removed two small boxes from the shopping bag, placing them on the desk carefully. “But Anna-Marie is masterfully stealthy,” he chuckled.
“You seem happy, Cameron,” I noted quietly.
He smiled, and it lit up his face. “I am, and I’m lucky for it. Do you want to see what it is?” he added, nodding to the two boxes.
I accepted, and he carefully lifted the lid off one of the boxes. The four sides fell open, revealing a model spacecraft the size of a paperback. He did the same to the second box, which held a nearly identical model.
“They’re scale models of Pioneer 10 and 11. They were launched to fly by Jupiter and Saturn, and Emily’s always been enthralled by them,” he elaborated. “I had these commissioned months ago but the builder got delayed, so they were only ready today.”
Cameron motioned towards the rest of the room and told me to make myself comfortable, so I sat down on an armchair. “She’ll love them, I’m sure. You've always had a knack for gift-giving.”
"I'd like to think I do," he admitted, closing the two boxes and preparing to wrap them in patterned paper. "Though I have a feeling it'll be you she's most happy about."
He'd said it casually, but I still felt my stomach knot. "I hadn't meant to intrude on anything, really. I'd been driving and—"
"Emily told me, Willie. You don't need to apologize for coming to our house," he scoffed.
"I do need to apologize, though, Cameron."
"What for?" His head was bent in concentration, and thankfully so. It was easier to confess without eye contact.
"You very well know what for," I retorted.
"There's a few things that come to mind, I'll admit."
"Well, there you go," I sighed. "I should have been better."
Cameron lifted his head and turned to look at me, a knowing grin on his face. "Life usually finds a way of telling you what you need to change. Sometimes it'll be a birth or a death, but it looks like turning your car into a poorly-made pretzel worked for you."
~~~~
Not long after Cameron and I had emerged from the secrecy of wrapping Emily’s gift, Lee and Liliane arrived. They’d enjoyed four years as a married couple, not to mention their time as a serious item before that, and seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely.
Liliane remarked on my constantly-darkening bruises right away, but I assured her that I felt fine and I’d rested since last night’s accident. It seemed that Lee was more interested in what I’d been up to lately, though I was reluctant to admit that I hadn’t been doing much.
I'd begun to feel like myself again by mid-afternoon. There was finger food in abundance, which I gratefully shovelled into my mouth. Emily and her sister had gone upstairs for a moment and I'd just spotted a jar of delicious-looking blackcurrant jam when the doorbell rang.
Cameron and Lee glanced at each other wondering who would be at the door, as Emily's official party with many more friends in attendance had been yesterday. Before any speculation could be voiced, Anna-Marie ran towards the door just as we heard it open.
"Hello!"
I nearly choked on the soda I'd been drinking at the sound of Autumn's voice.
"You're here again?" Anna-Marie squealed in delight.
Colin answered, and I could hear the smile on his face. "Of course we are! We came just to bug you!"
Anna-Marie giggled maniacally at his teasing, and the laughter seemed to ease the surprise everyone felt from their appearance. My shock, however, was still very present.
I quickly drank my remaining soda and turned away from the threshold they would enter from. I rinsed the bottle and placed it on the counter with the other empty glasses, all while my mind ran in circles.
What cosmic force of irony was at work here? It was only last night that I'd become truly repentant for the turmoil I'd caused in my life. Causing Autumn to be in pain, and having let her down, was one of the things I truly regretted— and now here she was, in the same house as me.
Colin walked into the kitchen just as I turned to face their entrance. "Willie?" he questioned, clearly surprised.
I managed a strained smile, but I heard Autumn's voice coming from the sitting room before I could say anything to Colin. I didn't catch her words, but her disbelieving tone was obvious.
I was glad the radio was playing at a decent volume; I'm sure the drop of a pin could have been heard from Edinburgh Castle. Autumn walked in, noticeably stunned to realize I was actually here.
"Willie." Her voice didn't falter but her eyes were wide.
"Hello, Autumn," I answered. I felt as if I was stuttering but if I was, no one mentioned it. "Colin. It's nice to see you both."
I walked forward and reached out to shake Colin's hand, which he accepted. He then turned to Cameron and Lee, greeting them both in kind as they walked into the room. I forced myself to say something to Autumn, but she spoke before I could.
"It's a surprise to see you here," she said to me, giving me the briefest of hugs. "Nice, though."
"The feeling’s mutual," I remarked, and genuinely smiled.
~~~~
I opted to keep my beverages non-alcoholic, though I did have a small glass of whisky when a toast was made. We cheered to Emily’s birthday and the renewed year ahead of her, wishing her all the best. I truly did wish grand things for Emily— not only had she been a wonderful friend to me throughout the years, but she’d also made Cameron beyond happy and that was well worth it to me.
Somehow, I had managed to remain collected around Autumn, though with the whirlwind of thoughts going on inside my mind I’m not quite sure how I succeeded. I wanted to talk with her, to tell her things truthfully and admit that I had made mistakes. My own thirty-ninth birthday had been one month ago and the soul-searching I’d been doing for much of the year had only increased since.
Cameron and Emily were upstairs putting their children to bed when I realized I didn’t have much time left to speak with Autumn. I doubted that either she or Colin would spend the night; if I was ever going to tell her, it had to be now and not once I’d lost my courage.
I made my way into the kitchen, leaving the others chatting in the living room. A glass of water didn’t do much to settle my stomach and I hesitated to eat one of the miniature scones Liliane had brought, in case it made my nausea worse. I leaned back against the counter and sighed, wondering what to say to her first.
I heard a door open down the hall and peered out of the kitchen just as Autumn walked out of the washroom. ‘One step at a time, Willie,’ I reminded myself.
“Autumn?” I uttered, feeling completely terrified. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.”
I reached into the fridge as she entered the kitchen, offering her a soda. She declined, so I took one for myself and removed the lid as I leaned against the counter once more. “You’ve been doing well, I hope?”
“Can’t complain much,” she replied quietly, shifting her weight. “Yourself?”
“A tad sore but I’ll survive. It could have been worse.”
“What happened? You’ve got an abstract painting on your face,” she added, laughing under her breath.
I chuckled, a smile crossing my face at the sound of her laugh. “I skidded off the road last night, a mile or two away from here.” I tried to downplay the accident, but her face fell in shock. “I’m not hurt much, I only look beaten,” I added hastily.
“You crashed your car?”
“Not deliberately, but, yes.”
Autumn shook her head, scoffing. “Reckless fool,” she muttered, though I heard it clearly all the same.
“I can’t quite deny that,” I mumbled. Embarrassment was creeping up on me, and I knew I had to do something. "Would you like to come for a walk? If you'll indulge me," I blubbered.
Autumn paused for the briefest of moments, but I still prayed that she would agree. "Alright," she answered, the corners of her mouth curving into a small grin.
Before leaving by the kitchen door and heading into the yard, Autumn let Liliane know that we'd be out— only she and Emily were inside, as the trio of men were out front having a cigarette or two.
The night air was chilly; Autumn shivered at the first breeze.
"Would you like a coat?" I offered. "They've spare clothes in the guest house, I'm sure there's coats we could borrow."
Autumn nodded. "That doesn't sound too bad."
We kept silent until the guest house's porch light illuminated the ground ahead of us.
"Are you still living in Perth?" she inquired, watching me unlock the door.
I told her that I was, and asked where she'd been staying nowadays.
"I'm renting a small house in Stirling," she revealed, following me inside. "But if I need to spend time closer to home or if Colin needs to be in Scotland for work or something, we rotate. He's got a nice apartment in Warrington and it's only twenty miles or so from his parents."
We searched through the closet and found suitable coats for both of us. I pretended like I hadn't seen her do it, but Autumn glanced around and saw the pile of clothes I'd left on the dresser; her eyes widened when she noticed the dirt encrusted on them.
I was glad that Cameron's house was nestled against the seldom-used area of the park, as there was plenty of space to walk aimlessly with little worry of meeting a stranger. I was fighting myself in my thoughts, trying to come up with something decent to say to start off.
After a few minutes filled in side-by-side silence, Autumn spoke quietly. "Is everything alright, Willie?"
I shook my head, though I hoped she hadn't noticed. "Do you remember the week we spent in Portugal? We stayed at a hotel inside an old castle, just outside of Lisbon."
"Yes." She almost sounded pleased at the recollection, but not entirely. "It was during a break in the tour, wasn't it?."
Although Amoeba had been in full touring mode in the summer of ‘73, I’d taken advantage of a week's break between German and Portuguese concerts and surprised Autumn with a stay at the Castle of Óbidos. It had been a week well spent, for the most part.
“Do you also remember the night I was arrested?”
“You had to bribe the policeman to let you go,” she reminded me, shaking her head in forgotten annoyance. “I didn’t even know what you did to get arrested in the first place.”
I frowned, but decided to put the reason as simply as possible. “I acted like a brute.” I looked around us as we walked; the solitary path wove through a lightly-wooded area. As we walked out of the glow from one of the occasional lamps, I spoke again. “Some punter made a comment and I snapped back at him. It was a fistfight in no time. He was a local and I was a tourist, so I got the short end of the stick when the officers arrived.”
“I didn’t know that,” Autumn whispered eventually.
“I never told you. And I was a coward not to,” I retorted. We crossed into a patch of light and I stopped walking. Autumn did the same, and I met her questioning gaze despite the intense quiver of vulnerability I felt. “I hurt you with my own stupidity. My own… brash absurdity. And not only then,” I confessed.
Autumn’s face showed exactly the emotions she was going through. She was surprised, confused, and concerned all within a span of seconds. It was an agonizing wait for her to say something and I couldn’t face the possibility that she might hate me regardless of what I’d just said. I looked to the ground and grit my teeth, angry at myself for making her listen to me.
“You never answered my question.” She was baiting me, I knew, but I raised my head and met her gaze silently. Her eyes showed the concern that the rest of her was trying— and failing— to hide. She spoke, her voice so tender it almost hurt. “Is everything alright, Willie?”
“No, it isn’t.” I nudged a rock with my foot and shook my head. “I’ve been an ill-tempered prat and I lost you because of it.” The words stung in my ears, though I’d been the one to speak them.
Autumn replied immediately. “You didn’t lose me.”
“Didn’t I?” I scoffed. “I’ve loved you, Autumn. So much it frightened me. I felt you trying to get close to me, and I wanted to let you.” My voice sounded frail and my hands shook, but I kept talking. “I wanted you in my heart, believe me on that. And once you had one foot in the door… I was terrified, and I pushed you away.”
The momentary silence was deafening.
“Sit with me, won’t you?” she said to me, heading off towards a bench twenty feet away from us.
‘Have I made this worse?’ I asked myself, following Autumn to the bench. That she didn’t seem angry made no difference to my worry, which festered as I sat down beside her.
“What scared you so much?” Autumn asked after a moment, her voice soft.
“The vulnerability of it all,” I admitted in shame. “Thinking that I’d let you in, and you’d see who I am and decide to leave.”
“You really believed I would do that to you?”
“No,” I insisted, hearing the sadness in her voice. “But it didn’t stop me from thinking you might, and acting like you would. I know I hurt you, Autumn, and I’m sorry I did.”
Even to my own ears I sounded as if I’d begin to weep at any moment. Autumn must have heard it too, because she put her hand atop mine and squeezed. “Make it up to me, then,” she told me.
I chuckled, though with so little force it was barely more than a huff of air. “How?” I pleaded. It seemed an impossibility to offset the damage I’d done.
“Talk to me,” she answered simply. I looked at her, not sure if she was being serious, but she was. “Right now.”
She asked me to, so I did. Neither of us were wearing a watch, but time might as well have stood still as we sat by the path. It felt intensely odd to be pouring my heart out to Autumn, even though I knew she would stay and listen. After a time, with my chest aching and my mind fighting the urge to cry, she spoke.
“If I’ve learned anything in the last ten years, Willie… Sadness is a good lover. She’s attentive and all-consuming. Knows you like the back of her hand, and she’ll use you until you’re only bones.”
“Very poetic,” I murmured.
“The truth can be poetic,” she noted, turning to face me. The sheen of moisture in her eyes shined in the lamp’s light as she spoke. “When we stopped seeing each other, I had people telling me that you’d done the same as the rest of them. Almost every man I’ve dated has turned out to be a jackass,” she admitted slowly. “I had people I’d barely spoken to in years call me up and tell me that I was better off without you, and you were an asshole like the others.”
“Were they wrong?” I muttered rhetorically.
“Yes.” Autumn squeezed my hand again— she hadn’t let it go since we sat down. “I wouldn’t believe them, or I couldn’t. Maybe both. But I knew there was something inside you making you sad.”
I smiled, and wondered if I had been ruminating in my worry without reason. I lifted her hand and brought it to my lips, giving a quick kiss to the back of her hand. ‘This woman is too good.’
“You act like a jerk sometimes, but that’s not who you are. You’re a skilled musician, and a great storyteller,” she continued. Something about her tone hit me in the chest, and I was glossy-eyed with emotion when she told me to look at her. “You’re the sum of everything you’ve ever seen and felt and heard, William. You should be proud of that.”
I hadn’t heard my name spoken by her in years and it filled me with joy to hear it once again. I smiled, though I felt moderately bashful about it.
Autumn smiled too, and tightened her grip on my hand. “You didn’t turn out so bad.”
She’d spoken sweetly, and leaned towards me as she did. Her lips pressed to mine for a brief second, and though I ached to kiss her again, I only looked into her eyes when she pulled away. She was smiling shyly, and I thought I saw her cheeks flush with colour but I couldn’t be sure in the dim light.
“Sometimes you say more with silence than you do in words,” she told me quietly. “Like right now.”
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