The Urn Carrier (19 page)

“No, I’m more like a human guardian angel. You didn’t see Chuck
after that night in Ottine, did you?”

“That was your doing?”

“I had some help.”

“The Hoopers? You all acted like you didn’t know each other on the
ferry . . .”

“Yes, we did. I’m glad we were so convincing. Chris is a former
Navy Seal. He is very commanding when he need be.”

“Chris? He was all freaked out about the shotgun.”

“Chris is a good little actor, isn’t he?”

“And now you’re here . . . ?”

“Well, because of Dina.”

“So why are you here because of Dina?”

“Call it a hunch.”

“A hunch?”

“A sixth sense.”

“A sixth sense like she was going to say something totally shitty
and break my heart? That kind of sixth sense?”

“Yes.”

“Are you a mom?”

“No. I am so not a mom.”

“I’m exhausted.”

“Well, you’re not going anywhere till we have
supper, okay?”

Tessa nods.

“Now do me a favor, please, and rest a bit. Drink more water. Come
outside when you’re ready.”

Madeline has a look on her face that Tessa
doesn’t argue with.

Tessa lies back down in the big, comfortable, queen size bed of
the motorhome.

She tries closing her eyes, but that seems to last only a moment.
She opens her eyes, and is surprised that time has actually passed. Not only is
Murphy’s warm body beside her, the sun light in the window has shifted over,
illuminating a framed piece of embroidery on the wall near the foot of the bed
that says, “Into your garden you can walk and with each plant and flower talk.”

Curious, Tessa rises and investigates the walls of the rig.

There’s a cloth patch with a black border and red background
pinned on the wall by the bathroom door. A campfire in the middle with the
words in black stitching above and below, “We are the Grand Daughters . . . Of
all the witches you were never able to burn.”

Wow.

Tessa walks toward the front part of the coach.

A bumper sticker is stuck to the fabric behind the driver’s seat
and over the couch. It has a piano in the trees and says, “See you in August.”

Over the driver’s seat is a large pink banner with #moranstrong
and a photograph of a woman racer crossing the finish line in a lime green
shirt, arm’s upraised in elation. She exudes joy.

Madeline calls in. “Tessa? Are you awake?”

“Yes.”

“The grill is hot. Will you please pull the meat off the center
shelf in the fridge?”

Tessa opens the door and pulls out a very neatly wrapped packet in
white butcher paper with black handwriting reads, “Chuck steak.”

Tessa stares at the packet and slowly walks out of the camper to
Madeline.

“Honey, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Tessa hands her the packet, her eyes never leaving the hand
written “Chuck.”

Madeline bursts out laughing. “I did not pull a
Fried Green
Tomatoes
. Promise. That really is chuck steak.”

THE NIGHTS WITHOUT Dina are incredibly lonely. Tessa has no one
with which she can make a goodnight tuck-in call. Or process the whole scene
with her father, her, and Eli. Eli. Eli will tell her. Eli will tell her
everything. Madeline is right. She needs to return home.

For now, it’s just her and Murphy. At one point she goes out to
look at the stars that fill the sky. It must be after one and before four,
because the sky is black. Far off she hears a sound like tinkling water and she
wishes the Northern Lights would come.

IN THE MORNING, Tessa runs.

Not very far because it feels like her bone is on top of her foot.
But she forces herself to try. She knows she must look ridiculous to the other
campers, with their families and friends, out in the morning sun, drinking
coffee. Sharing laughs. And her trying to run, a hippity hoppy kind of run. She
wears the lime green hat because it gives her strength.

She can’t afford to care what others think. She stares at the
beauty around her and forces herself to run. To hobble, to half ass jog.
Good.
Let it hurt, let this pain be greater than the one inside.

She maybe only gets a quarter mile, and then she turns around and
hobbles back. She hears from behind her a tinkling noise, like rain against a
metal roof. It’s Madeline, wearing one of Great Aunt Sadie’s ankle bracelets,
made from antique buttons.

“You have one of Great Aunt Sadie’s ankle bracelets.”

“I do.” Madeline sits at the picnic table and pats the seat next
to her. “I haven’t been completely honest with you. You didn’t read far enough
in those journals, did you?”

Tessa feels her cheeks warm out of embarrassment. The days with
Dina blew everything else in her world out of the water. She’s looked at the
pictures again, but not the journals.

“Your aunt and I had more than a friendship.”

Tessa absorbs this. “You’re B. In the journals.”

“Yes.”

“B, as in Babe.”

“Yes.”

“So that ax is yours?”

“We travelled together. It belongs with the rig.”

“What about Uncle Percy?”

“Well, Dan and he had more than a friendship.”

B and F. Forsythe. Fortie.

Tessa starts to say something. Madeline waits.

Tessa’s mind is spinning. Madeline says nothing.

“I don’t understand. Why stay married? Why did any of you stay
married?”

“Don’t judge us too harshly, honey. Things were really different
even a few years ago. In the sixties and seventies, there were groups of women
who would have parties, like for birthdays and they wouldn’t even admit
among themselves
that they were couples. At least the groups that Sadie and
I, and Dan and Percy would socialize with, we all admitted our couple-ness. It
was like, when we all got together, we suddenly had more air to breathe. Sadie
thought about burning all that stuff. The photos and the journals.”

“I’m glad she didn’t.”

“Dan and Percy strongly recommended she should.”

“I’m really glad she didn’t.”

“Dan and Percy told her it would only hurt other’s feelings if
they read them.”

They sit quietly for a few moments.

“Things haven’t changed for generations, then, it seems like a ski
ride. Imagine riding in a horse and buggy when suddenly, civilization decides
to hop in a luge. I can’t believe how fast it has changed. A Pope as loving,
humble, and intelligent as the one now? I’m still catching my breath. The truth
is, we all really loved each other and cared about each other. As Dan said, we
had no crystal ball to know who would be left standing and economically, it
just made sense, because no matter what, we wanted everyone to enjoy their end
of life, lovingly.”

“And in your own way, you paved the way for all of us.”

“In our own way, I guess, we did.”

“And you knew I was considered two spirit?”

“I always knew you as Tessa. No more, no less. Do you believe you
are two?”

“No. I am not two. I am one. I have always felt the way I am now.
My body didn’t always match, but inside, always who I am now. No different.
Maybe I got caught in the transporter room? The lower half belonging to someone
else?”

“
Star Trek
? What do you know about
Star Trek
?”

“I’m a big fan of the classic
Star Trek
. Like the DVD
episode Great Aunt Sadie has of
Deep Space Nine
“The Kiss.” And even the
old, old TV
Star Trek
.”

“Mmm. Did you ever see the episode of Uhura and Kirk kissing? That
was another first kiss, interracial on TV. That one made conservative heads
explode back in the day.” Madeline chuckles. “My, it’s good we’ve come a long
way. I’m lucky to see it.”

“Now that gay marriage is legal, would you and Great Aunt Sadie .
. . ?”

“We actually did. We flew to Hawaii three years ago.”

“You’re a bigamist.”

“I prefer to think of it as a widow, who is still married.”

“You said the first time is always the hardest. Is that true?”

“Only because of age. Each loss is different, but don’t be afraid
to fall in love again. Please. Don’t let what you had with Dina spoil what you
can have with someone else. Having a broken heart means breaking it wide open.”

Tessa tries to replace the stabbing pain she’s experiencing in her
bones with the more positive airy-fairy idea. She decides it will take her some
time. “It hurts horribly.”

“None of your surgeries were easy, either. Did that pain last?”

“No.” She considers. “The only pain that stayed is the one I
swallowed and didn’t remember till yesterday.”

“A good reason to accept grief as it comes.”

Tessa nods.

“Even if all your relationships end, being afraid of the depth of
love, to try and avoid the pain of loss, only handcuffs you to not fully
realizing your life. After all you’ve been through, even before you fell in love
with Dina, do you really want to limit yourself? You don’t strike me as that
type.”

“I don’t think I’m in control.” Tessa releases one long exhale.
“I’m not one to limit myself. Life tries to do that too much, already. But I’m
afraid I won’t make good choices.”

“Hmmm.” Madeline looks up at the sky as if
she’s pondering some great notion. “I can’t promise that you will find
everlasting love. But, if it makes sense to you, this is what I believe: There
is a divine order, much wiser than any one of us. When I just relax about
everything, the universe brings people into my life that I might not ordinarily
meet, or want to get to know, but in much of it, I learn exactly what I need.”

“What you’re saying makes total sense. But I didn’t hear anything
about being in love.”

“I’ve had many loves. And many losses. What is wise about love?
Even though chances are we will lose our animals before they lose us, does it
stop us from loving them?”

“No.”

“No. So love and live, laugh and grieve and get up and do it all
over again. What are our options? To be a dried up old prune existing a safe
and sanitized life or to skid into home plate and say, ‘Boy that was one hell
of a ride’?”

“I like the skidding.”

“So do I.”

They sit in silence, sharing the intimacy of the mountains
encircling them, the soft breeze, and air they inhale together.

“I love you, Aunt Maddie.” Tessa suddenly hugs Madeline fiercely.
She tucks her head under Madeline’s jaw.

Madeline nestles into Tessa’s embrace and whispers, “Oh, Tessa, I
love you too. You’re just perfect.”

THAT NIGHT, TESSA rummages through her last mail drop. She had
been in such a rush to pick up Dina, she barely took time to read everything.
Now, she finds Prince’s letter, and re-reads it more thoroughly.

I hope this
catches you in time. Thanks for giving me the General Delivery in Seattle.
Tessa, my time with you on the Mississippi came at the perfect moment. I had no
idea you had gone through the same change I had. It helped so much to speak
with someone who totally gets it. I could have fallen in love with you!

After kayaking, Prince had helped Tessa locate a campground and
she offered to cook dinner. He had agreed. They shared a closeness, but Tessa
couldn’t put her finger on it. It was vague, not attraction, more of a bond,
like a brother.

At dinner, the flickering campfire played with the features on
Prince’s face. He was crouched, his arms wrapped around his knees, watching the
flames.

“My name used to be Jayda.” He glanced up fearfully.

In the firelight Tessa could almost see the girl he once had been,
but not really. It was like, in the briefest second, his face didn’t have
stubble on it. Like when the waves washed over rocks, at first the underwater
landscape was so clear and then a shimmering took over and the features changed
into some sort of impressionistic painting, a series of separate dots up close,
but from a distance a cohesive whole. When all was calm, the features resumed
their original place.

He was trusting her this far and he was holding his breath, as if
waiting for a slap.

“And I used to be called Teddy.”

They both grinned widely.

“Oh my god.” Prince laughed. “We have transdar!”

He paused and shared another secret. “I’m attracted to guys.”

“And I’ve pretty much decided I’m lesbian.”

They smiled again.

“And people give you shit, right?”

“You’re the first person I’ve told.”

“Well, they will give you shit. They’ll tell you, ‘You were born
the right sex to begin with.’ ”