Catastrophic events rearrange our constellations as we navigate the unknown journey that is life. Despite
experiences related by those who have gone further and the body of common knowledge accrued to help us find our way we find
ourselves in places we never anticipated being. Perhaps we misapply or ignore helpful advice because it seems irrelevant
to what we deem our unique circumstances. And so we make it up as we go along and inevitably lose our way from time
to time. Sometimes we find a signpost and fool ourselves into thinking that we know the rest of the route. The
delusion is vital. Without it despair would extinguish all the stars and leave us truly lost.
Changes
came for the Carters. Fate had extended the family in the wake of Harold Porter's passage. Shane and Raven surprised
everyone, perhaps even themselves, by formalizing their commitment in a civil ceremony soon after Richard and Jill moved into
the cabin with them. No one adjusted to the new arrangement more quickly than Mirabelle. She showed no signs of
trauma, but Jill worried about psychic damage because she knew that the ghosts of experience from the time before we have
words to frame and explain the world were nearly impossible to exorcise. Being Jill, however, she vowed to provide the
security of a loving and supportive family.
Some changes were temporary, others not. Most of the
scrapes, bruises, and sprains had healed by early spring, although Shug's separated shoulder still awoke him in the night
and would ache for the rest of his life. Guidry, without so much as a scratch, would never heal completely. The
tough cop had seen his armor of cynicism fail. An alcoholic binge and deep depression had surprised everyone but Richard
and Carl Hoag. Most thought it inexplicable. After all, he'd had no choice but to kill Harold Porter---and there
was certainly no great loss there. If not for his well placed thirty-ought-six round, everyone in the Carter house would
have died. But the heart knows nothing of such logic. For a decent man killing, no matter the circumstances, changes
him forever, and never for the better.
The Christmas trip to Merida proved beyond the Carter's financial
ability, but they were laying aside the money for a possible visit during carnival. Winter waned, spring floods came,
and jonquils gone wild lit the floor of the woods around the cabin. Their sight turned Jill's thoughts to the lonely
old watchman and the deserted town where he communed with the spirits of departed friends in the Irish Wilderness.
Today
she stood alone at the end of the dock watching Blue Creek swirl by on its way to the Eleven Point River. The cold water
sparkled silver in the early light riffling by as clear as the indigo dawn. The crowded cabin lay silent and sleeping
behind her as she huddled against the chill breathing the comforting aroma of coffee steam. Solitary daybreak brought
remembrance and reflection. Aunt Mirabelle's memory came with more comfort now, her feeling of loss receding into the
distance like the sound of a departing train. Momentarily she felt guilty.
You know better
than that, chided the familiar voice mildly.
Whether it was only her imagination or really came
from her dear aunt and real mother didn't matter.
"Yes," she said softly. "I just
miss you so."
"Could you stand some company, or should I go back in the house," asked
Richard hesitantly.
"Come," she said without turning around.
His footfalls
bobbed the floating dock gently. Then she felt his strong arm around her waist and leaned back into his embrace.
"What have you been thinking out here all by yourself?"
"That it's not
all bad. We don't have much room in there, but . . . it's nice being here. This morning it's almost magical place
. . . even in the cold."
Richard Carter clung to his woman and drank in the serene creation of
the new day.
Blue Creek swirled beneath their feet.
"This is so perfect,"
she said. "It makes one believe that the whole world once was paradise."
"Until
man came along and decided paradise wasn't good enough," he said.
"It's what is inside that
dissatisfies," she said. "Let's just enjoy this while we can."
Richard pulled her
closer.
That through the wreckage of their lives they had washed up onto such a hospitable shore was
fortune too good to be true.
"It would be a sin not to savor such times as this," she said.
A dark time was coming. He could feel it. But he had Jill, and she was his pole star. He
drew in the aroma of her hair, tightened his hold, and tried not to think about the inevitability of evil to come.
