The Beach House (16 page)

What would you do?

“Oh, if I were only young again, I would travel! There’s so much of the world I would like to have seen. But I’m too old for that now and too ill to manage the trip. I don’t care much for clothes. I’m giving away all my jewelry. At this point in my life, I see all possessions as just more stuff, as Cara called it. Meaningless! Worse than meaningless. They are distractions. Yet I feel so responsible. It
is
an awful lot of money that might mean something to my children.”

You will have given them each a piece of property.

“That’s more than many children ever get. Then there are my grandchildren. The money could give them a leg up when they’re grown. Help them with tuition, a down payment on a house, that sort of thing. It would be nice to be remembered fondly. And, of course, there’s Toy. I really must help Toy.

“Oh, but what should I do? If I leave the land to my grandchildren, people will wonder where it came from. Questions would be asked and eventually answers would be uncovered. I’ve sacrificed too much for too long to lose my dignity, our privacy, at the end.”

Privacy or secrecy?

“Is there a difference?”

Privacy is something that we maintain for the good of ourselves and others. Secrecy we keep to separate ourselves from others, even those we love.

“But I only want to protect my family!”

But you have succeeded in dividing them.

“Tell me, my love, what do you think I should do?”

You know what I would do.

“I do. You always intended to leave the land to the Conservancy. I want to, but I’m not sure if it’s the right thing. And I’d need someone who I can trust to help me.”

Cara?

“Cara is leaving.”

She is still here now. You should talk to her. You know you want to.

“There’s no time. She’s leaving tomorrow. It would take a miracle.”

Miracles happen every day.

“Where are you going? Please, don’t leave me.”

I’ll never leave you.

“Russell!” She sat up and reached for him. Lifting her hand, the sand sifted slowly through her fingers until it was gone.

She was alone again and knew that she could not wish him back. Bereft, she leaned her elbows against her knees and tightened the sweater around her shoulders. The bright moon gave the beach a silvery glow and the earlier wind had swept the sand like a broom, leaving it smooth as pavement. The tide was coming in. She could see the white ruffled edges of the waves as they cascaded upon the shoreline.

With a jolt, she peered at the edge of the water. She thought she saw something moving out there. The waves rolled in, then back again, leaving bits of luminescent plankton, shells and seaweed in its wake. Lovie remained quiet, her heart pounding, not daring to move and scare away the large, shadowy hulk emerging like a great, prehistoric creature from the sea.

Yes, it was a loggerhead!

At the water’s edge the turtle lifted her head, arching her neck as if sniffing the air. Then she lowered her beak, poking it into the sand. Lovie could only guess she was tapping into some ancient, instinct-stored information that would guide her. She waited breathlessly for the turtle to make her decision. At last, with a slow, dragging shuffle, the loggerhead plowed her way onto the beach straight in Lovie’s direction. Every few steps the turtle stopped, contending with the effects of gravity on her three-hundred-plus pounds of weight. Foot by foot the turtle persevered in her sluggish gait, lurching forward, then stopping to gasp for breath.

It would take time for the loggerhead to make its way up the beach and Lovie had a moment’s inspiration. Very slowly she swung her legs around and crawled down the opposite side of the dune. With a hunched back she hurried down the dune, not turning on her flashlight lest she scare the loggerhead. She scurried across the path as fast as she could back to her beach house.

This time she didn’t knock on Cara’s door. She went into the bedroom, past the suitcase at the foot of the bed, put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder and gently rocked her.

“Cara. Cara, wake up.”

Cara awoke with a jolt, her breath hitching and her eyes opening wide in a startled expression.

“It’s me, honey. Wake up. There’s something I want you to see. Hurry now.”

“Whatisit?” she slurred, looking around the room.

“Come on. Put on your jeans. A turtle has come ashore. You don’t want to miss this.”

“Oh, Mama…”

She cajoled and hurried a sleepy Cara into her jeans, T-shirt and sandals, and with her heart beating joyfully in her chest, led her daughter out into the cool, moist night. In single file they hurried along the path to the sea. Lovie’s eyes were accustomed to the dark and she led the way quickly. As they neared the dune, she turned to put her finger to her lips and slowed to a crawl as they rounded the hill and came out on the beach.

The tide had inched back and the smooth sand was scarred by a long, wide furrow of turtle tracks from the water’s edge high up near the dunes. In the silence, Lovie could hear the scrape of the turtle’s digging. Following the line of tracks, she found the loggerhead. The creature was magnificent. Sand flew into the air in great gusts, spraying sand like confetti.

Lovie heard Cara’s gasp behind her and guided her to a spot hidden by a dune. The turtle worked without pause to dig the egg chamber, using one rear flipper to scoop out the sand and another flipper to brush the mound away in an ancient ritual, over and over for almost an hour. Then she stilled and a deep silence again reigned. Signaling with her hand, Lovie led Cara closer now, for it was said that, once the mother began laying her eggs, she went into a trance and was less likely to stop until her work was done.

It was a perfect night, with little wind and a bright moon to light the area like a theater. Lovie felt the excitement she always felt at the sight. No one knew at what time or where a loggerhead would come ashore. Even with vigilance, seeing this was a matter of luck.

And God’s grace, she thought, whispering a prayer of thanks for this small miracle. She looked at Cara’s face. It was as still and watchful as a child’s and Lovie smiled to herself. She’d made the right decision to fetch her, she thought. She knew her daughter would always remember the night they shared this ancient ritual of the loggerhead for which she’d been named.

They sat shoulder to shoulder during the next hour and Lovie felt that their silence bonded them now rather than divided them. From time to time Cara would look over to her to exchange a glance, their eyes gleaming like the moon overhead. The loggerhead was steadfast as one by one more than one hundred leathery eggs slipped into the sand. While she worked, great streams of salty tears flowed down from her eyes.

A mother’s tears, Lovie thought to herself. The tears of duty, love and commitment. The tears of resignation and acceptance. And, too, the tears of abandonment. For this sea turtle would finish laying her eggs then leave the nest, never to return.

Don’t cry, Mother, she silently said to the turtle. Didn’t all mothers abandon their children at some time? Soon she, too, would leave her own children, never to return.

What did scientists know, explaining those tears away as a mere cleansing of the eye? A woman saw those turtle tears and instinctively knew that the turtle mother wept for her children. A mother knew of all the predators that awaited her young, of the swift currents that might lead them astray, of the dazzle of dangerous lights, of the complicated nets that could entangle them and of the many years of solitary swimming. She wept because she could not protect them from their fate.

Lovie lifted her hand to wipe away the tears from her own face, feeling a powerful kinship with the beautiful beast before her. They were like old friends, having a good cry together.

Then Cara squeezed her hand and all at once it no longer felt so sad. Such was the way of nature. Like the Bible said, there was nothing new under the sun. There was a time for being born, for giving birth, and a time for dying.

The turtle finished laying her eggs and began shoveling sand into the nest with her hind flippers. Then she turned and tossed sand violently to camouflage her treasures. They stepped back, giving her a wide berth to finish hiding her nest and crawl back to the sea.

Lovie and Cara were her honor guard, walking quietly behind her. Each movement seemed a colossal effort and her shell scraped the sand as it dragged. She paused frequently to breathe and raise her head as though sniffing out the sea. The nearer she drew to the water, however, the more vigorous she became. The new energy and excitement in the turtle was contagious.

Lovie sensed the turtle’s relief when it reached saltwater. A wave washed away the coating of sand and her gorgeous reddish-brown carapace shone like fabulous armor in the moonlight.

“You’re home free!” Cara called out to the turtle.

The moon was now high over the ocean, creating a long ribbon of light that appeared as a road for the turtle to follow home. Lovie and Cara had walked all this way to the water’s edge with her, agonized each step with her, but now they could go no farther.

Lovie watched the turtle lumber forward into the sea. As she became buoyant in the saltwater, her strong flippers began to stroke and in that miraculous instant the turtle shed her earthly burdens and was transformed from a plodding, hulking beast to a creature of great grace and beauty. She raised her head once more, as though to say farewell, then dove beneath the surface and was gone.

Lovie stepped forward into the water after her. She felt an inexpressible urge to go with her. Beyond, she sensed a great, deep unknown. Out there, under the surface, lay a vast otherworld filled with mysteries and beauty. Transfixed, she wanted to follow the turtle down that ribbon of moonlight.

“Mama? Come back. You’re going out too far.”

Lovie blinked and looked down. The water was up to her knees and the hem of her skirt floated around her.

“Why, I’ve barely noticed. I was watching her. But she’s gone now.”

“Here, take my hand.”

“Wasn’t she beautiful?”

“Breathtakingly beautiful. I never imagined it could be so magical.”

Lovie came out from the water to stand by her daughter. “It is, isn’t it? I’ve seen it many times, but each time is like the first.”

“I wonder what it’s like out there,” Cara said wistfully, standing at the shoreline with her arms wrapped around herself and her eyes searching the sea. “Look at it. It’s so vast. To just slip under like that…I can’t imagine.”

“I imagine it’s rather like death. You want to go with her, you’re curious, but to do so you’d have to cross that slender, elusive barrier that separates the two worlds. A little death, that’s all it would take. One step, one final breath, then you’d be floating.”

“Well, I’m not ready for that particular journey yet, thank you very much. Just making it back to the house seems far enough for tonight.” Cara turned and took a few steps back up the shore.

“Cara?”

She stopped and looked around. “Yes?”

“I’ll be making that journey soon.”

Cara’s face froze in puzzlement. “What?”

“I have cancer. I know that sounds dramatic but I can’t think of an easy way to say it. So, there it is.”

In the stunned silence myriad emotions flickered across her face. “No!” she exploded. Cara took a step forward, then stopped abruptly, shaking her head in confusion. “Cancer? What kind of cancer?”

“It’s lung cancer.”

“But you don’t smoke! Not for years.”

“I know, I said the same thing when I found out. But the damage was done. I’ve already gone through a round of radiation therapy.” She heard Cara’s sharp intake of breath. “It was never the cure. We were just buying a little time.”

“How long have you known?”

“For some time. Since December.”

“How bad is it?”

“I’m afraid it’s quite bad. Simply put, I’m dying.”

Shocked, Cara said nothing.

Lovie reached out her hand. “My dear, you’ve gone white.”

Cara brought her own hand to her head to clutch her hair in a fist. “Dying. Dying? Why didn’t you call me? I would have come home immediately!”

“I didn’t want you to come home only because I was sick.”

“Sick? You just said you’re dying.”

“Yes.”

“Wait. Let’s back up a minute,” she said in a tone that Lovie recognized as her daughter’s effort to table her emotions and be practical and efficient. “How do you know you’re dying? Who have you seen? There are new procedures. Other hospitals we can go to. I know of an oncologist—”

“Cara, stop. There’s nothing that can be done—other than to put my house in order. That’s what I’ve been trying to do, though I’ve been making quite a mess of it. I’m sorry about what happened at Palmer’s tonight. I should have told you but I simply wanted for us to have a little time together first without bringing up the topic of who gets what after I die. That’s such a waste of time, and I have so little time left. Oh, Cara, don’t you see? It’s like watching that turtle slip into the sea. She’s finally free of the earthly burdens. That’s what I yearn for. But I know I have to settle my affairs before I go. I want to spend what time I have left getting to know you again.”

Cara went very still and tears glistened in her eyes. “That’s why you wanted me to come home? That’s the sorting out?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Mama…” Cara slumped down onto the sand and covered her face with her hands. “It feels as though the earth just dropped away from my feet. It’s so unreal. Just the other day I was feeling so sorry for myself. I wondered what else the gods could do to me. But I never thought it could be this. Not now. Not yet.”

“Don’t cry,” Lovie said, crouching close to her daughter. Her own tears streamed down her cheeks. “Didn’t we have fun tonight? I thought we shared something very special.”

Cara nodded, wiped her face with her palms. “We did. Yes, we did.”

“I wish Palmer could have been here, too.”

“Does Palmer know?”