Soul Mates (20 page)

The officer and the group parted ways.

“Thank God that’s over,” Jayson said.

“Can we stop playing this queer game please, and go home now?” Lilith pleaded.

The group paid for their time on the lane and left.

Tyler had explained on the phone earlier about how he had haphazardly left his headlights on and drained his car battery and that they had spent a great deal of time waiting for a good Samaritan to stop and assist them, which in New York, to no surprise, took a little longer than one may anticipate...unless you are from there…not that you could blame people completely in this day and age. That is, of course, if what Tyler had told his parents had happened actually took place, rather than the fact that it was a concocted line of bullshit from a teen who was getting increasingly crafty out of necessity, thanks to his seditious girlfriend.

Chapter 7

The quiet, crisp morning lost none of its picturesque quality, even through the nuisance of the slight hangover that plagued Jim Colabza after his night of celebrating the finalization of his move by himself. He watched a Yankees game on TV with a never-ending (well, almost) glass of Captain Morgan’s Rum and Diet Coke.

The mirrored brilliance of the lake (pond) out of his bay window, nestled between the ambitious rolling foothills, reminded him exactly of what he was doing here. It reminded him exactly why he chose to start over in this small bucolic community which was made up primarily of seasonal citizens. And then there was his Apollo Moon Tree.

The Apollo Moon Tree was simply that…a tree…a Loblolly Pine to be exact. However, it was not only unique in its origin, but in the number still on the Earth, which is 400. The Apollo Moon Trees (or simply Moon Trees) got their name because of the fact that the seeds from which the trees grew were taken to the moon on Apollo 14 by astronaut, Stuart Roosa, the mission’s command module pilot, back in 1971…well, the seeds
orbited
the Moon.

The seeds that were brought back from their orbit around the Moon were dispersed to different locations, for preservation, as gifts, and so on. Some were sent to world leaders, educational institutions, forests, other countries, and needless to say, the average Joe was not made a gift of these unique seeds.

Although Jim’s Moon Tree came with the home he purchased up in Copake, New York, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that what is now Jim Colabza’s backyard was not the intended location of that particular seedling. Follow this: the previous owner of Jim’s house was friends with a man back in St. Anastasio, coincidentally enough, who as a scientist in his working years, was involved in the space program to a small degree during the Moon-mission era of the space program and got his hands on one of the seeds. 
That
 man’s son was one of Jim Colabza’s old student
s–
a brilliant one at tha
t–
in his former life, and was also valedictorian at Jim’s final graduation commencement. The student’s name? Spencer Mason.

Jim, being a history teacher, was fascinated by the tree. When he got older and took an interest in buying the house, he was unaware that the backyard held a moon tree. When he found out that it did, wild horses couldn’t drag him away.

Now, it is rumored by some that moon trees possess some mystical power. I am here to tell you that that is not just a rumor. As a matter of fact, many mystical talents that are claimed to exist in the world actually do exist. The trepidation which surround these forbidden talents stems from the fact that one does not know from where these messages from beyond are coming…who or 
what 
the source is. Messages invoked through some of these special talents 
are
 sometimes from friends and loved ones, free of deceit and false hope.

But sometimes…

Back to the tree: although Jim did not yet know this, the moon tree in his backyard, ten feet from his section of the pond, possesses such mystical qualities…the good kind.

This dream hous
e–
albeit an
empty
dream hous
e–
in Copake was
it
for him now: an extra bedroom, a bathroom on the top floor of the house, connected to a large empty room with nautical-themed wallpaper, a finished basement, a dock right in the backyard, and a car-port that would never be full to capacity. The empty house would not take very much getting used to at all (as Jim was not a 
promiscuous
 old queen, no, no, no) but the little bit of getting used to that it 
would 
take, Jim reckoned, would be repressed by the view of the lake, the mountains and his newest friend, the hawk, that he had seen skimming the lake for food that morning. Perhaps even beyond all of those sight driven features was perhaps his favorite feature of all. Do you hear that? Yes…absolutely nothing. No car traffic to speak of, which meant no one slamming on their breaks or peeling-out at a green light. No jerk-offs driving down his block with the music so loud that their license plates shook. No contemptuous asshole taking the muffler off of his car to make it louder, which more times than not, is the same jerk-off with the music blasting. 

Just quiet. The type of quiet someone could easy fall in love with. Just a man in nature alone with his thoughts that he could actually 
hear
,
 
by God.

Yes, he could get used to this.

Perhaps he would keep his sexuality to himself in a place like this, as smaller towns where everyone grows to know each other tend to lean more to the conservative side. Not that all conservatives would be in the streets screaming “lynch the fag!” but better safe than sorry, he thought as a prudent man. You know what? Jim decided that he could live with that. Why not? If it got too overbearing for him, where he now lived in the Berkshires was about ten miles from the Massachusetts border. There he would find all of the like-minded people he could ever want and more.

Another great perk about being located in “God’s Country,” as it is referred to by some people, is that the mail comes early. Since the previous night was his first night at his new address, he wasn’t getting some of the regular junk mail that he would grow to loathe yet. However, an “old friend” from St. Anastasio found him quickly. Jim had paid for The Coopersmither, an absolutely dreadful name for a local newspaper, to be sent up to his new residence, and it was there on time (well, before the end of the day) and almost 200 miles away from its usual zone of delivery. His former local paper was like an old friend whose reluctance to see Jim go was embarrassingly evident. This was an expensive hobby, if you could call it that, but it was important to Jim to stay in touch with his old town.

Jim Colabza was ready for his new residence upstate, but he compromised with himself that he would keep in touch with his old residence in this way, and in this way only. Sure, if someone from his past called to see how he was fairing up in the boonies, he would be pleasant and cordial, but for the most part, when he meant to leave his past life in St. Anastasio behind, he meant to leave it 
behind
. Lock stock and barrel.

He sincerely hoped that no one phoned to check in on him though, especially Russ. He would be compelled to tell him that he now slept with a night light even though his 
ardel
-um, 
meddling 
days were behind him.

Jim walked to the end of his driveway where the local newspaper, as well as the latest edition of The Coopersmither, was waiting for him. He supposed that he could wait to hear about the tractor-pulls and open farmer’s markets and yard sales, so he moved the local newspaper behind The Coopersmither and knew what he was looking for right away. 

Every year since 1957, The Coopersmither would list, in alphabetical order, all of Alan B. Sheppard High School’s graduates for that year, as well as what their future plans were. There were a handful of names that he wanted to check on, but only two that are worth mentioning to you in 
this
 story. 

He opened to page three and four and saw the four columns that took up both pages and hunted for the names. There he was…

Tyler Swanson.

What were Mr. Swanson’s post-graduation plans? Ah, here he was…

Swanson, Tyler: Tree Grove Community College; with aspirations in law enforcement.

“Way to go Ty,” Tyler’s teacher said to an empty kitchen 200 miles away from his from the newspaper’s origin. He was genuinely happy for his former student. He always thought that Tyler had the type of mind that was perfect for some type of scientific research, but that path is not for everyone. In fact, he commended Tyler on noticing that that was not the path for him.

Still…

Jim had checked the other students he cared to know the plans of, Lisa Fecteau, Jeremy Elise, Alex Thames, and all of them seemed to be heading in promising directions. But he was irrepressibly drawn to one more name, even though he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. Something told him that with The Coopersmither subscription alive and well on special order in Copake, New York, he would need to get used to seeing this name in print. So he looked up Lilith’s name.

“Pre-
law
 at Bernard Hunter?” Jim spat out loud enough for some resting birds to take flight across the pond. The same reaction Jim would have when he read of the news that Tyler and Lilith had married almost two years later. 

Chapter 8

Ray and Cindy Swanson had high hopes that the summer would breed a fresh start for their son, as in September Tyler would begin his abbreviated college career.

High school was over, and as much as friends and acquaintances promise that they will keep in touch and get together often, just about everyone realizes sooner than later that it is just something that is said in the moment; an empty promise of mutual appeasement. If you polled a group of high school graduates who swore that they would keep in touch with old love interests, or “good” friends, or pleasant acquaintances,  you would be hard pressed to find many (if any) who made good on their promise to keep their networking skills tip-top.

This is what Ray and Cindy had counted on. Tyler was going to a local community college long enough to complete his sixty credits, something that the police departments then required for the job after certain crops of police recruits proved to be marginally moronic at best. That was their 
son’s
 plan, while his girlfriend had 
“big plans.”
 Surely that meant she was going to a four year school for a bachelor’s degree and with some hope and a prayer or two (or three even), some place far away.

Lilith wound up attending the same community college as Tyler for two years, just to make sure that her interest in pre-law liked her as much as she liked 
it
, to knock off some core subjects, and also, of course, to undeniably be the proverbial thorn in her boyfriend’s parent’s ass. After two years came and went at Tree Grove Community College, and around the same time that Tyler was called upon to begin the hiring process for the St. Anastasio Police Department (recruits could begin the hiring process prior to receiving their sixty credits), Lilith began the latter half of her bachelor degree studies at Bernard Hunter, which, as it turned out, was only located twenty miles from St. Anastasio.

Tyler was thrilled. His parents were not.

Although he never knew it until perhaps much later in his life, Lilith had her and Tyler’s entire lives premeditate
d–
perhaps more than anyone knew. Every twist and turn, every step they’d take, as Sting would say, speaking of “the police.” No surprises on this adventure through the passing years. She knew it all. She also knew when she was dangerously close to a point where Tyler would become fed up with her, thus putting an end to her plans for good. That is when she strategically decided to back off a bit, knowing 
exactly
 how much impressionable Tyler Swanson would take, and what was required to mend fences or make him happy, which wasn’t much. Young men are typically easy for young women to pleas
e–
especially Tyler.

When it came to getting married, but not having the ceremony in a churc
h–
which was Lilith’s idea (and which she was rather adamant about), Tyler’s parents had something to say.

When it came to what town Tyler and Lilith would live in, Tyler’s parents had something to say.

She knew when the tension gauge between Tyler and his parents was in the red and she needed to back off in order to regain order and status quo to the situation. She read him like a book because she could. And that is what she did as they trudged through the years together. Tyler was as transparent as a freshly squeegeed window. Tyler, as well as Lilith, did not appreciate Ray and Cindy constantly interjecting their opinions into their son and daughter-in-law’s life decisions.