The Urn Carrier (3 page)

Chapter 3

TESSA AND BILLY, her boyfriend, just arrive home from his lacrosse
game, and she hears the rumbling of a Harley, or maybe, something larger,
coming behind them. A beautiful, butter cream and baby blue pick-up with a
matching color-coordinated trailer pulls to the curb of her house.

“Tessa Williams?” A handsome guy, maybe mid-twenties, steps out.
His dimples are deep. His eyes green.

She nods.

He brings a digital handheld tracker, the kind like the UPS
drivers have, and has her sign on the line. He clips it to his belt and reads
from his clipboard. “We need to go over the entire vehicle and make sure it’s
to your satisfaction.”

“Holy shit,” Billy says lowly. “This is it? This is what you’re
driving all over the country and Canada?”

Tessa is having a difficult time controlling her grin.

“Can I go inside?” Billy lifts his chin at the camper, and the
delivery guy nods as he unlocks the door.

Billy climbs inside. “Holy freaking shit.”

“Don’t mind him,” Tessa says to the delivery guy. “He lives in a
cave.”

“Dude, holy crap, flat screen TV.”

Tessa has no idea what Billy is rambling about. She is walking
with the handsome delivery guy to the front of the truck. His blue uniform name
tag says Paul. Paul shows her how to open the engine. She looks at the latch.
He shows her again. She does it right the first time.

“Great,” he says. And waits a beat as if expecting her to say or
do something else. “Okay then.”

He reaches an arm in front of her. The engine looks new and shiny.

“Oil stick, there’s a gauge inside, but check it every morning
after a long haul. Be sure you’re on a flat surface when you check it. Here’s a
niff-noff storage area, for a rag and an extra quart. We put Synthetic Premium
blend in. You have any serious problems, you call us first, okay? Card’s taped
to the inside of the glove compartment door.” Paul then shows her the
transmission stick, the brake fluid, the antifreeze reservoir, and the
windshield washer container.

“Nothing computer on here. Old-fashioned roll-up windows, though
we did install an a/c for you, and that back extra hatch on the cab is for the
dog. You have two fuel tanks, a saddle,” he flips the front seat forward,
showing her what she guesses is a gas tank, “And the back one.” He taps the
driver’s side, just behind the cab. “Thirty-five gallons all told. The kayak
fits in under the extra cab.”

“Kayak?” Tessa squeaks and peers into the bed of the truck where
Paul has pointed. A brand new red Perception, with vest and paddle, are tucked
neatly corner to corner. “I don’t know how to kayak.”

“Piece of cake,” Billy says, jumping out of the camper. “That is
one sweet set up in there. Shower, toilet, kitchen. Sure you don’t want me to
go with you?”

He rounds the front of the truck and is making his way to her.
Paul starts the engine and Billy stops. He turns and lets out a long whistle
while putting both hands on each of the front quarter panels. He leans in,
absorbing the simplicity and beauty of the engine.

“Dude, that’s not a 390 is it?” he asks Paul.

Paul nods with a broad grin.

Great, Tessa thinks, guy talk time.

“That is cherry. Damn, you’d better hope old Aunt whoever is
paying the gas for this.”

Before Tessa can ask any questions, a black 350 King Rancher pulls
in front.

“My ride,” Paul explains. “But I have to show you how everything
works in the camper. I’ll also leave a list of how you set up and tear down.
And, if you’d like, we can take some time and go over the basics of backing
this thing up. I noticed the parking lot next door, we can practice there.”

“I can show her all that, dude.” Suddenly Billy seems a little
possessive.

Paul shakes his head. “The executor of the will, the lawyer, made
it very clear what my obligations are. I have to follow them to the letter of
the law, or I don’t get paid.”

Paul stands a full head taller than Billy, and the way he rolls
his work shirt sleeves up past his finely muscled biceps, isn’t hard to look at
either. She sees them flex just ever so slightly. Either that, or she just
wants him to flex them.

“Billy, it’s okay.” She puts a hand on Billy’s forearm. “This is
going to take a while, so why don’t I call you when we’re through?”

“Yeah,” Billy agrees, pushing his long locks from his eyes. “Do
that. Call me. We’ll hit Centre Street café for dinner, k?”

He kisses her, longer than he needs to.

Paul, seemingly totally disinterested, wanders to the back of the
trailer.

“Sweet fucking ride.” Billy sighs. “Wish I could go.”

Paul explains the propane igniter switches and the trailer’s water
and waste system, and then walks her back to the pickup.

“Hop in, take me for a ride.”

“So the lawyer. You meet him?” Tessa asks,
trying to take her mind off Paul’s arms and dimples while she starts the truck.

Paul nods. “Yeah. He’s seriously one scary looking dude isn’t he?”

“Totally.”

“Kind of creepy,” Paul adds.

So it isn’t just her.

“I’m gonna leave my cell phone too, cause you’re going to be in
different time zones. Might be after business hours.” He opens the glove
compartment and writes his number on the garage business card, left-handed.

Before Tessa can ask anything else, Paul instructs her on
trailering and backing, high winds, the anti-sway bar, the electric brake
system. All business and details. Tessa’s head is going to explode.

“Don’t worry, I made up a whole book.”

He reaches behind her and taps a binder riding on the back shelf
that’s supposed to be Murphy’s bed. She senses his energy just from his arm
being that close.

“Truck and trailer for dummies?” she jokes as she tries backing
without swiveling her head.

Paul has told her she must rely on the mirrors, both the big
rectangular part, and the little orb convex ones that show everything in
miniature. Steer opposite to cock the trailer away, steer same curve to
straighten it. When he is sure she is used to the truck and trailer together,
he instructs her to back into a car space, even though the parking lot is
empty.

“I want to see if you can get it between the lines, perfectly.”

She doesn’t get it the first time, but with his coaching, they end
up laughing and she finally succeeds.

“You’re a quick learner,” Paul says. “You
could get your commercial license and drive the big rigs down the highway.”

Tessa grimaces. “No, thank you.”

“So how did you get rooked into this?”

She shrugs. “Luck of the Irish.” They laugh again because of her
dark skin and hair.

“C’mon,” he says. “Show me you can back it in your driveway. Just
take the road like you own it. Traffic can wait. Drive into the opposite lane
so you get the maximum angle you need to do it in one take.”

She finally accomplishes not hitting the house or backing over the
neighbor’s lawn.

“There ya go,” he says. “A pro. Hey, I have one more thing to put
in that binder. I’ll be right back.”

He jogs to the big black truck waiting for him and is there a few
moments.

She runs her hand along the side of the truck, the shininess and
the newness of it. How comfortable it felt to be behind the wheel, like she’d
been driving it all her life. She walks alongside the ribbed trailer with the
little slatted windows. A small Honda generator had been included for boon
docking, whatever that is. She has a lot to read. Paul said there were all
sorts of books in the rig under the seats.

He comes up behind her. “All set.” Then he smiles. “When is
departure?”

“I have another week of school, then I promised my mom I’d visit
with her. My lease is up in two weeks.”

“So . . . anytime for a drink?” he asks her directly.

“I think I can make some time.” She smiles.

HER BEST UNIVERSITY friend in the whole world, Dina, stops by
before she has a chance to call Billy.

“Oh my gosh, this is it?” Dina stands a head taller than Tessa.
She is slim and blonde with her long hair swaying down her back. She walks with
a slight graceful angular walk. Tessa thinks she moves softly, like a crane.
Dina would snort and say, “More like a girl with scoliosis.”

Dina is peering inside the trailer.

Tessa laughs. “Go on in, it’s not going to bite you.”

She follows her in. With two of them inside, the trailer seems to
suddenly shrink.

Dina spies the queen-size bed and falls on it backward. “Wow,
that’s even comfortable.”

“It has storage underneath.”

“I don’t care about the storage. Close the trailer door.” Dina
stretches out her arms, grinning.

Tessa smiles, complies, and slides into Dina’s arms.

After they make love, Dina breathes into Tessa’s hair, “I wanted
to be the first to do that.”

“You were the first a long time ago.” Tessa’s voice feels muffled
between Dina’s skin and the comforter on the bed. Their clothes are everywhere.

“This place is a mess!”

“Thanks to you.”

“Is there a beer in the fridge?”  Dina leans over to reach the
refrigerator door.

“I don’t even know if it is on.”

“Oh look. Beer. The good kind.”

“No shit?” Maybe that’s what Paul left behind.

Dina removes the magnetic bottle opener on the
front of the door and pops the beer open, letting the top fly into the middle
of the trailer. They laugh. The beer is deliciously cold.

“I’m gonna miss you.” Dina pushes a lock of Tessa’s hair behind
her ear.

“Come with me.”

Dina shakes her head as she takes another swig. “No can do. At
least now. Maybe later in your trip? When you have to hit British Columbia.
That would be fun.”

“Could you take that much time, two weeks in Canada with me? Maybe
three?”

“Sure, that’s a couple months down the road. I’ll be free then.
Doesn’t Billy want to go?” Dina smiles. Tessa sees a knowing look in her eyes.

“Billy.” Tessa sighs and rolls over on her back, her bare breasts
exposed. “You know he’s sweet, he’s just . . .”

“So boring,” they say together.

“But you should have seen the delivery guy.”

“Someone I need to be jealous about?”

“As if.” Tessa shoves Dina, then grabs her blouse off the floor
and puts it on.

“As if what?”

“Xander and you.”

Dina nods and drinks. “Well, Xander isn’t clueless about female
parts.”

“And he’s hot.” Tessa takes the beer from Dina.

“He’s super-hot, but can he work?” That was Dina, always looking
ahead. “I need a steady Eddie. Someone that’s going to be there in the long
haul.”

“Don’t we all?”

“Mmm.” Dina finishes the beer. “At least we have each other.”

Chapter 4

TESSA’S BIG MORNING finally arrives. Packing stuff she wants for
after the trip and selling or giving away things, becomes a sort of purging, an
unexpected cleansing. Her senses are more alive, her eyes seem to let in more
light. Even her body seems lighter.

She needs to stop at her mom’s, just north of Lansing, to pick up
Murphy and then her trip officially begins.

Twenty minutes later, she pulls up to the white-washed two-story
building, a late forties house, with a big front porch. She gulps. She’s going
to miss 531 Broadway, home of her dreams and games and her childhood. Home of
her beloved cherry tree. Just down the road from Mrs. Bender and her fifteen
cats. Across the street from her lifelong best friend, Holly. Other than Eli,
Holly is still her closest confidante and supporter. But Holly is in Europe
right now—a Fulbright Scholarship to some veterinary school.

As soon as the truck is off, both Murphy and her mom burst from
the front door. Murphy prances all around the truck joyfully as if looking for
someone else. He totally ignores Tessa and she realizes he is looking for Aunt
Sadie. Well, that made the most sense. He finally approaches her.

“I know I’m a poor substitute but will you allow me the next
dance?” Tessa ruffles his long soft ears. He noses the door of the trailer, so
Tessa unlocks the door and the deadbolt. Paul had instructed her to lock both
when driving down the road and she promised she always would.

Murphy leaps into the rig. He looks around and sniffs. His tail
wags as if he senses something familiar. He hops onto the bed. He lays down for
a moment and then jumps off. He runs outside to the truck door and noses the
handle. Tessa opens the passenger door and Murphy climbs up over the seat and
onto the back cab bed made just for him. He lies down, looking perfectly at
home. He jumps right back off and out of the truck to the tailgate and noses
that too. Murphy doesn’t wait for Tessa to get it all the way open before he
jumps up. He sniffs the kayak and looks at her like, “What is this?”

He puts one paw tentatively into the large open kayak, then
another, then he gets in and lies down. Briefly. He stands up and, wagging his
tail, returns to Tessa.

“I think he knows he’s going with you,” her mom says.

“Right?”

Her mom has Murphy’s day bed and dishes and Murphy watches as they
load it in the trailer. Then he noses Tessa’s hand. Murphy sits, his eyes
solemn.

“Do you know she’s not here anymore?” Tessa bends down and hugs
him. “Do you know it’s just you and me now?”

“Part of me wants to go with you . . .” Her mom is petting Murphy
too.

“Mom, I want to do this alone.”

“I know, baby. Some of it is selfish and part of it is . . .
worry.”

“I have Aunt Sadie’s shotgun.” Tessa grins.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes, I do. Mr. Forsythe insisted.”

“But you don’t know how to . . .”

“Paul took me to the gun range.”

“Paul?”

“The cute garage delivery guy.”

“Tessa you haven’t done anything with anyone have you?”

“Oh my god, Mom. I’m not going to tell you if I did or didn’t.
Wow. You’re not like, channeling Jill are you?” Tessa sucks in her breath,
immediately regretting her words.

“It’s just hard for me to realize you’re an adult.”

“Everyone else sees it.”

“And I promised I wouldn’t cry.”

Tessa hugs her. “It’s only twelve weeks, mom. A school semester is
longer. I’ll be back the end of July, mid-August the latest. And we’ll talk
every Wednesday. We can FaceTime. It was cool of Mr. Forsythe to give you Aunt
Sadie’s iPad.”

For a creepy dude, he was thoughtful.

“Come in and have some food before you go.” Her mom puts her hand
on Tessa’s shoulder and turns her toward their home.

Impatient to start, Tessa wants nothing more than to be on the
road right now, but what’s another hour with her mom in the scheme of things?

BETH WATCHES HER only daughter leave. She tries not to cry. She
puts on a brave face and hates her relatives for forcing this issue. Damn them
and their greed. This one pure soul, who wouldn’t hurt anyone if she could help
it, sent out, alone, on a task any of them could have done easily.

She knows their whispers, how her daughter has taken a leave from
school, how Beth works two jobs while this girl fritters away her time. Beth
remembers being nineteen. She remembers the angst of learning about her body,
about college, about Gabe.

Her first meeting with Gabe had been so innocuous. She had been
lying on the sheet she dragged everywhere so she could flop it on the ground
and study in the sunshine. So she could flop it in someone’s living room and be
at home. Wherever this sheet was and she on top of it, she was at home. It was
her place in the world, this sheet.

She and her sheet were in the middle of the
gardens at the university and someone blocked out the sun for the briefest
second.

His smiling eyes, the curly topped hair, and his infectious
gap-toothed grin caught her immediately.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked. “You know, I see you all over campus,
and you never sit in a regular chair unless the teacher asks you to. Why is
that?”

“I like to be grounded.” She laughed. “This blanket grounds me. I
like being down here, next to the earth, my feet bare, the scent of the earth
rising up to me.”

Gabe smiled. “My mom always called me a little
heathen, because I’m the same way. I like being on the ground, or outdoors.”

It was that moment that Gabe caught her heart. There was no Mark,
or any of the other boys she’d been dating. Within three months they married.

Beth finished Occupational Therapy school. Gabe finished his
wildlife degree, but jobs were at a premium, so he worked construction, till
something in his field opened.

But then, Beth was pregnant, and construction was paying more than
any seasonal wildlife job.

When the twins were born, Beth insisted she wanted Mark as the
godfather. Gabe agreed.

As the twins grew, Gabe noticed T was the most athletic. The most
agile, the one most willing to climb a tree. Gabe couldn’t wait to take them
hunting and fishing. To show them all he knew about the woods.

He was always in the leaves with them, tussling and shouting. Beth
watched from her blanket as she read and heard their shouts of glee, and
laughter and love.

Tessa always rose early, practically leaping out of bed every
morning. As soon as there was a hint of sun it was as if every cell in her body
expanded and inhaled and wanted to greedily drink in more daylight. Even in
winter, Tessa was always the first awake. Her mom found her downstairs under
the kitchen table, doodling on paper, little figures, dreams she was drawing
“from memory,” she said.

She didn’t want food, she didn’t want breakfast, she just wanted
more paper and crayons and chalks and pencils and paints. Later, in school, she
discovered ink and specialized pens. While everyone else was enamored with game
boys, phones, and laptops, Tessa was in the back drawing.

At first, the idea of school seemed fine. Her mom told her she’d
be able to draw all day. It was not exactly true, but her first week of
kindergarten, they did draw a lot. The school was practically kitty-corner to
their house.

Her mom had walked her and Eli there the first two days. She
showed them how to cross with the light at the busy corner. First straight down
from their house. Wait for the light. Even when it was green look both ways
because sometimes cars sped through lights. Then wait at the corner and turn
left. Repeat.

This day, Eli stayed home with an upset tummy. Tessa had no idea
that their mom watched every morning, just to be sure they were safe. At the
first corner, by the boarding house, Tessa noticed the knot of kids on the side
of the school.

She resisted the urge to dash kitty-corner across the street and
join in the fun. Bigger kids were throwing rocks. She was good at throwing
rocks and she was anxious to show the big kids how good she was. She swung her
lunchbox back and forth impatiently, the light finally turned green. She
sprinted across the street and then remembered about speeding cars. Everyone
stopped for her and she ran. The next light seemed even slower and she was
afraid the school bell would ring before she could join the big group of kids.

Finally, she was on school grounds and raced over to see the
excitement. Kids were dashing around finding rocks, and she scooped one up on
her way. She pushed her way through the bigger kids, she couldn’t wait to show
what a good shooter she was and then she saw the black-and-white cat cowering
against the brick wall of the school as one of the older kids flung a stone,
finding its mark. She dropped her lunchbox and the rock and hovered over the
cat.

“Hey! Are you crazy?” a fourth grader shouted at her and tried to
pull her away. He couldn’t budge her.

“Get out of here. We’re gonna hit you instead
if you don’t move.”

“Yeah! Move!” another big kid said and his
rock stung her on the base of her head right by her neck. She didn’t even
flinch.

“No!” she shouted, loud and clear. “You’re not hurting this cat
anymore.”

“It’s not your cat. Get away from it. It’s a mangy stray.”

She didn’t obey. She blocked out their
shouting and the pelting rocks. More rocks and stones hit her, but the bell
rang.

“Oh, let’s go,” the older ones said.

“The bell rang. Haw! You’re going to be late protecting some dumb
ass cat!” they called to her.

She didn’t move until every last one was in the school. Then she
scooped up the cat and took it home. She told her mom everything. Her mom
walked back with her to the school and talked with the teacher. Tessa never got
in trouble. And Bandi became her cat.

Bandi loved her. She followed her everywhere. She lay on Tessa at
night and purred. Tessa felt Bandi’s purr go straight into her heart. It was
the most delicious feeling in the world.

She began hating school. She was the child with her nose pressed
up against the window, wanting to be outside. She was the child who only
breathed fully when she was outdoors, running, playing, climbing.

She recreated movies and worlds and played funny games, getting
others to join her in her play acting at recess.

One time they crossed an invisible line, where all the boys
played. The older boys picked her up and threw her back over the invisible
line. They had all the soccer balls. And basketballs. They wouldn’t share. The
older girls laughed at her and asked, “Why do you want to get all dirty
anyway?”

The younger boys in her grade saw what had happened and decide to
form a “we don’t stop for nobody line” on the girls’ side. Even Eli joined this
line.

Tessa gathered five or six other little girls and formed a V, like
the geese did in the fall. They ran straight for the line of eight or ten boys,
with Tessa at the front. Once she got to the line, where the boys had locked
arms, she kicked Eli’s ankle and slammed a fist in his best friend’s ear. The
boys howled and ran back to the boy’s side. All the older girls and boys were
laughing at the young boys.

“Don’t make it worse!” a big boy shouted at the crying boys.
“Leave them alone. Don’t you know women are like hornets and they won’t stop?”

Tessa high fived with the other little girls and everyone left
them alone from then on. The older boy even threw them a soccer ball every
recess, out of respect or to keep them calm, Tessa wasn’t really sure and
didn’t care.

Eli would sleep till ten or eleven, but Tessa had lived half a day
by then. She became Gabe’s little pet and followed him around everywhere. She
stayed up late, reluctant to let Morpheus take her to sleep. In winter, even in
the worst of storms, she’d want to be outside, but her mom coaxed her in with
hot cocoa made the Anishinaabe way Grandma made it, a lot of cream, a little
maple syrup, and a hint of cinnamon. She watched the different flakes swirl and
marry each other and watched the brave birds all puffed up against the wind,
their feathers blown around as a gust hit them while they ate thistle and suet
and seed.

“Mom, if we’re so poor why do you feed the birds?”

“I don’t know, Tessa. I just do. We have bird birthmarks. We’re
meant to take care of the birds.”

“And they take care of us?”

“Yes, and they take care of us.”

Eli was always shorter, always chubbier, a little slower until
they became teenagers, and then he sprouted.

Their dad had an accident. He fell out of his tree stand while
hunting. His moods became a little darker and when T insisted on wearing pink
and staying indoors closer to her mother, their dad rebelled.

Their mom and dad fought a lot. They visited the grandparents, the
day of the bear on the footpath. After that, their parents lived separately. It
was when their mom moved them to 531 Broadway. Once a month, Eli and Tessa
dutifully visited their father up north.