All The Way
Chapter 25
The supply truck groaned out of camp before sunrise. It was always a lonely time knowing another week would pass before the vehicle would return. Herb watched a jeep driven by Carter's two Mayan brothers closely follow the supply truck and wished Carter had been with them. Looking up at their rickety flag pole he yearned for the light-hearted times when the camp gave his boxers a morning tribute.
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Julia stared at the canvas side of her tent before snapping back the sheet and sitting up. Tossing and turning, Eliot words whirling around in her mind.
It's time! It's time that you decide. It's time!
Touching her lips, she felt his presence and most of all his love. Eliot's kiss was tender and passionate. 'It's time that you decide' held multiple meanings. All night long she relived the moment and wondered about her own feelings toward the professor. She had worried about his safety during his showdown with Angelique and the dream curse. Over time she had grown to care about him and enjoyed his company. But did her feelings extend beyond simple friendship?
A cup of tea would help her mental acuity. The physician changed clothes, stepped outside and found the sun peeking over the canyon rim. Clouds gathered overhead and were a good sign it might rain soon. Strolling through the mess tent she was surprised to find it empty. Sighing, she headed for the ease of the coffee pot.
Archaeology people! They must be sleeping late after their big celebration. She rolled her eyes. During my residency I still had to be on call after a night on the town.
Julia chuckled to herself, sipped the black coffee, casually studying the pegboard above the sink. Why did the board look different this morning? Her brow furrowed, trying to recall the routine of the camp chef.
"Knives." She thought out loud. Where were all the knives? Normally they had their own special locations on the board. There were all types of knives. Why would they all be gone? Albaro, the chef. Yes, that's it, he must be sharpening them. The chef was as fastidious as a surgeon with his cutlery.
The physician finished her coffee feeling satisfied with her explanation. Today she felt a need to be alone, time to gather her thoughts. The quiet of Collinwood had given her opportunities to think. Solitude to think was a luxury she now missed. She wasn't ready for the interruption of 'Ju-li-a, I hate to be a bother' Summerlin or the emotionally draining interaction with Richard. She would take an hour for contemplation. By the time she returned the camp would be buzzing with activity, she would be refreshed and ready to meet the day.
"If you seek peace, there is a waterfall east along the stream."
Ascencion. What a dear boy. Julia walked back to her tent and remembered the boy's warm brown eyes, vibrant smile and his love of horses. Pausing outside her tent she decided she would take one of the horses and find the waterfall. Remembering her scarf and sunglasses she stepped inside her tent and immediately froze. Lying on her cot was a folded note. She felt someone was watching and turned to look outside the tent and found no one.
Was the note from Eliot?
Unfolding the note she read the shaky writing.
Almost A Whisper
The sound of holding on-almost a whisper
The sigh of broken hearts—a quiet cry
The rain upon your face
Brings gravity and grace
And softly you begin to breathe again
I don't have all the answers to your sad prayer
But if I could I'd give you angel's wings
To go where hope is found
With strength to reach beyond
And carries like a song upon the wind
Please don't give up
Please don't you give up?
Because I believe
Yes, I believe
I still believe-in us
The sound of holding on-almost a whisper
The sigh of broken hearts—a quiet cry
The rain upon your face
Brings gravity and grace
And softly you begin to breathe again.
I didn't know love till I meet you.
I love you, Julia
Richard
Julia gasped for breath and sat down. The letters were shaky, so unlike Richard's hand. What was wrong?
She read the line again. 'I didn't know love till I meet you. I love you, Julia. Richard. A tear slid down her cheek.
"Damn you," She cursed beneath her breath.
'Hold me like the first night, let me feel that way again.'
That first night seemed so long ago. Looking into Richard's sable brown eyes she felt love. Was Richard a representation of Barnabas' unrequited love? Or had she somehow come to love Richard in some special way? Where was the gentle Richard who yearned for her love? What had become of him? Slowly she rose to her feet and slipped the letter into her pocket. Taking the scarf and sunglasses from the table she knew she needed….time alone.
After a long ride in the saddle she decided to walk the horse through the narrowing canyon and tilted her face to the sun and reveled in its warmth. The cottonwoods had disappeared as the walls closed in. The fractured red sandstone was slick with water and dotted with ferns. Julia stopped, gave an affectionate rub to the horse's forehead. The gilding in turn rubbed his head against her shoulder wanting more.
"You're the type of company I want today," Julia announced out loud. "The strong and silent type." Chuckling she turned her head and listened…a sound….falling water.
Rounding the bend, a tiered waterfall poured a veiled curtain into a blue-green pool below. A barrier of large boulders, gravel and sand circled the reservoir. How wonderful and….oh so… private.
Julia loosely tied the reins around a clump of ferns, stepped to a large boulder and sat down. A breezy spray bellowed out from the rushing water. The water looked so tempting she pulled off boots and socks and wiggled her toes in anticipation.
"This is nice, isn't it?" Julia spoke to her mount and pursed her lips. "You know you really need a name." The physician continued to think, a slight smile pulling at her lips as she pondered exotic horse names, Comanche, Trojan, Pegasus, Ajax.
"No. You look like a Max to me." Nodding her head with satisfaction, she slipped the pack of cigarettes from her pocket, lit one, and blew smoke above her head. Slender finger gently tapped against the end of the filter, eyes moving along the animal's sleek body, ending at the hindquarters of the gilding.
"You know Max, it's really quite unfortunate that I was not your physician. I would have not recommended your surgery." Julia erupted in devilish laughter and inhaled again on her cigarette. "However, I would highly recommend the surgery to a few two legged males I know." Through a cloud of cigarette smoke the physician looked again between the gildings legs. "On the other hand, I suppose your surgery does make your life less complicated, less fraught with frustration." Max's large brown eyes complacently stared at her. Julia stood and stretched.
"Unfortunately, my life is complicated and fraught with frustration. There are two men in my life." Julia sighed, staring off, inhaling again on her cigarette. "Actually there are three. The third is related to the second." She frowned, annoyed. "Does this make sense to you?" Max's muzzle noisily flipped and tugged at a fern on the bank.
"I thought not," Julia replied, turning to face the dark pool. "Do you mind if I slip off my blouse, Max?" Facing away from the horse, she pulled out her blouse, slipped it over her shoulders and placed it on the rocks near her boots.
"How about the pants, do you mind?" Unfastening the belt, she wiggled out of the pants. Julia looked around nervously, feeling both decadent and excited as the cool air moved over her bare skin. Slowly easing into the water she was surprised by its coolness. Grinding out the cigarette in the gravel she stepped further from the edge and into the water. In two quick movements she slipped totally beneath the surface and glided, turned on her back and floated. Staring at the blue sky, she watched cumulus clouds streaming overhead. The distant sound of pouring water created a muffled world of silence. Sighing with contentment, Julia floated in her own little world.
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Waking, Hallie abruptly sat up in bed and looked for Bridget. She remembered hearing the graduate student leave for the latrine, but couldn't recall hearing her return. The young woman's cot was empty, the covers still tossed to the side. How long had she been gone? Hallie pulled back her hair, slipped on her pants, t-shirt and boots. Maybe Bridget is already in the mess tent having breakfast.
Hallie stepped outside their tent and froze. At the far end of the tents Richard Carter moved with quiet efficiency, leaning in and checking tents before moving to the next. He was heading her way. Hallie's breathing stopped at the sight of the scoped, high powered rifle slung over his shoulder. Bridget had confided the only rifle in camp belonged to Dr. O. Why did Carter have the rifle? Richard resembled a big game hunter in his broad brimmed hat, rifle, boots and hunting knife. Brownish red stains flecked the front of his khaki shirt. Hallie clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. The young woman darted back in their tent, grabbed the knapsack from the foot of her cot and darted out of sight.
Racing down the row of tents she fought a rising hysteria. Richard Carter's menacing image frozen in her mind. She threw back the fly to her Uncle's tent. Where's Uncle Eliot? I have to find him! Tears streamed down her cheeks. Where is everyone?
The young woman didn't bother checking tents in between and could feel Carter closing in. Where's Julia?
Arriving at Julia's tent she darted inside and found it empty. Hallie hopes plummeted and stifled a hysterical cry. "You can't let him hear you!" She whispered to herself. Think Hallie, think. What is he looking for? Hallie felt the medicine bag inside her knapsack. He's looking for this.
But what were those stains on his shirt? She wiped the tears from her cheeks. The stains are dried blood. You can't think about that now. Would he look in here? Hallie looked around for a place to hide. No, he wouldn't look in here, not in Julia's tent.
Richard Carter will not touch you again, I promise. Yes, she would be safe in here.
Hallie jumped at the sound of gravel outside the tent, dropped to her knees and scurried beneath Julia's cot, making sure the sheet covered the bottom of the bed. The fly pulled back and boots entered the tent. An object was placed on the cot overhead. A flurry of dust floated up and around Hallie's head. Glancing down, the medicine bag had slipped from her knapsack releasing the powder into the air. Strangely, she didn't cough or sneeze. Looking under the draped sheet the toe of a boot appeared just inches from her face. Her eyes homed in on a thick red drop slowly drying to a dull brown. Was he going to kill them all? The boot fell into darkness as Hallie's eyes grew heavy with sleep…. a deep sleep.
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Julia reclined on the ledge near the waterfall and felt the drops of water bouncing off her pale skin.
Why do I always choose emotionally needy men? Why am I always the strong one, the logical one? Why is it always my burden to save them, to change them? Why does loving them make me so unhappy? My moments of happiness with Barnabas Collins were always brief and unsatisfying. And Richard Carter, Richard was just an extension of Barnabas. I know that now. When Richard came into my life, Barnabas was still in my heart.
I never knew love till I meet you.
At what cost Richard? What would be the cost of loving you?
Julia stepped through the shower of the waterfall, and returned to the pool. Floating along she thought of Eliot. There first moments together involved the dream curse. She found comfort in his strength and knowledge. The greatest comfort came in knowing she wouldn't have to manage alone…Eliot was there. In the dead of night, without knowing why, Eliot had helped unearth Barnabas' casket. Why would he do such a thing? Because she asked and he knew she needed him.
'Are you truly happy?' He asked when he already knew the answer. Of course she wasn't happy and he knew it. How did he know? Because he was there for her, not for himself or using her to get what he wanted, he was there for her. Gently her fingers moved from her lips to the rest of her body. His kiss was not enough. I want more. I want someone who's there just for me.
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Eyes wide with surprise, Eliot bolted upright in his cot off the developing room. The rifle fire reverberated through the canyon. A pause….. then three more quick shots. Herb would never practice this close to camp. Like a shot he moved from his cot to the developing room and found the neatly arranged strips of negatives were gone. Cursing, Stokes briskly walked to the final organizational and display room and found chaos. Was he that exhausted that he slept through the vandalism or did someone move with the stealth of a cat?
The professor stepped outside the tent and listened. The camp was as quiet as a tomb. Even during some of the more quiet times a generator might be running, or distant voices, something to indicate life. The silence was absolute.
Hallie.
Eliot ran to her tent and found it empty. He scanned the area around the tents, seeing and hearing no one. Running to his tent he threw back the fly and found it had been tossed, the violin case flung open on the cot. Herb's tent was also empty, along with Summerlin and Turpening. Eliot hesitated outside Richard Carter's tent and listened, before tossing back the fly. The interior of the tent was nearly barren, showing little signs of habitation.
With quick strides he moved to Julia's tent and threw back the fly. There on the cot lay his violin, the strings cut and curled around the instrument. A note was placed between the tangled strings. Eliot leaned forward and read the note.
I have Julia!
Kiva #5
R
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Richard Carter sat patiently on the ledge of kiva #5, his fingers laced together around his crossed legs. Patience, Richard, patience. Once Stokes arrived he would begin. He would fan the flames of hate. Hate.
He could have waited in his observation room and used Osmond's rifle to take out Stokes from a distance. But what was the fun in that? No, this was better. They would talk. Feeding on Stokes' hate, he would find it satisfying to take his hunting knife and plunge it upward beneath his ribs, puncturing his hate-filled heart. He would twist the blade, the beating heart quickly draining the blood from Stokes' body. Then Julia would be his forever.
Richard looked up and heard his prey moving down the wooden ladder into the kiva. Stokes' eyes scanned every inch of the kiva before standing at a distance from Richard Carter.
"Where's Julia?" he asked flatly.
Richard tried to control his enthusiasm, his voice masked in silky softness.
"Where are your manners, Eliot?"
The professor's eyes narrowed in suspension, hearing his first name spoken with such silky elegance. Richard's eyes were no longer dark but an unusual honey brown. Stokes' eyes caught the gleam of the hunting knife at Richard's waist. The small Swiss Army knife on his belt, Marjorie's knife, would be of no consequence in this match.
Carter casually rose. "You and I have not had a chance to talk."
Eliot stood with his hands at his side. Richard eyed him thoroughly. He realized he had not taken the opportunity to critically study the professor in close proximity. The man was more robust than he remembered.
"We have nothing to discuss," Eliot replied coolly.
Richard smiled. "Of course we do, we have our little secret to discuss."
Eliot remained impassive. "In a technical sense, I suppose it is our secret, yours, mine and Maria's. But morally and ethically, the secret is all yours."
"Ah yes, Maria. She was really quite voluptuous wasn't she? I remember having her myself. She was a marvelous cook and quite a delight in bed. Isn't it ironic how I paid for the best lay of your life?"
Eliot's eyes narrowed, noting the delight Richard Carter was deriving from his journey into the past. In the back of his mind he knew where this was all heading.
"I'm sure Maria remembers each day how she earned her 30 pieces of gold,"" Eliot replied calmly.
Richard felt annoyed. This was not progressing as planned and noted how Stokes' hands were neatly folded behind his back as though listening to a departmental discussion.
"Don't you feel hate toward me?"
Eliot's head turned to the side. "Hate," He repeated and smiled. "You're a fool, Carter."
Richard felt the veins and muscles in his neck tighten.
"You're a foolish man, who thinks because he has taken a dipper of water from the Nile." With an easy flourish, Eliot gently pointed his finger to his temple. "That he has taken it all."
Carter's finger angrily rubbed the handle on his hunting knife.
Stokes pretended not to notice.
In a stentorian manner Stokes continued his lecture. "Did you really think my mental capacity was so shallow, so limited? Did you really think when you sent Maria to do her dirty work that you had destroyed me, that by stealing my doctoral idea, work, and research that I would be forced to give up my dream and drop out?" Eliot raised his chin in defiance, each word forcefully annunciated. "No, Carter, you were the fool!You were the one who was inadequate, desperate, and afraid! You were the one who had nothing and feared you would be forced to drop out! Every moment of every day, you know this is your dirty secret, not mine!"
Richard Carter moved forward, feeling the desire to plunge the knife home, but hesitated. This was not how he planned or wanted it. He was feeling the hate, not Stokes. The professor stood calm and placid with his hands folded behind his back.
This is your dirty secret, not mine.
"You asked about Julia, Dr. Hoffman," Richard said calmly trying to regroup. "She's really quite extraordinary, a very passionate woman."
Eliot fought to keep his face calm even though his heart pounded.
Carter was disappointed in the professor's reaction to his words. Fueled with jealousy and envy he delivered the deepest cut.
"Julia has the most exquisite white skin, but not as soft as Hallie's pert young breasts…" Richard Carter did not finish.
Eliot Stokes rushed forward, leading with his shoulder, plowing into Carter's body slamming it against the wall of the kiva with such force adobe chunks and debris rained down from the ceiling. The air forced from Richard's lungs left him frantically gasping for air. Eliot grabbed the collar of Carter's shirt and tossed him to the floor like a rag doll. Quickly he straddled his chest and with balled fists pounded Carter's face, one blow after another. Fighting for consciousness, Richard knew in his clouded mind if he didn't act soon, the end would be near. His fingers gripped the kiva floor, pulling up dirt until he had a palm full. With all his remaining strength he moved his legs and for a moment tipped Stokes off balance allowing time to throw the dust in the air.
Eliot stopped the pummeling and grabbed at his face in an effort to remove the debris from his eyes. Again, Carter moved with his legs and hips tipping Stokes from his chest. With a small amount of success he was able to gasp for air as the professor's weight was momentarily lifted and rolled to the side. Carter knew this would be his only chance for escape.
Continuing to wipe the the sand from his eyes, the lantern faintly glowed through the grit clouding his eyes. Richard pushed himself from the floor, grabbed the lantern and headed for the ladder. Stokes knew he could not let Carter escape and followed the light of the lantern. The desperate man raced up the ladder, Stokes in pursuit grabbing at his legs and feet. Richard felt fear again as the professor's hand tighten around his lower leg. Pulling himself up the ladder with his arms struggling to work free of Eliot's grasp he finally spilled partially out on the courtyard floor. Blood streamed down his face from the bloody nose and dripped onto the dirt courtyard. He felt his field of vision closing from the blood and swelling. Turning he could see Stokes moving up the ladder behind him and pulled back his right foot and kicked at Eliot's head rising above the opening. Stokes held firm, dodging the blur of Carter's moving foot. Finally, the boot heel glanced Eliot's temple and his hold loosened. Carter pulled his foot free, stood and grabbed the rungs of the ladder. The professor felt the ladder move, but it was too late. With Carter's last ounce of strength he pushed the ladder backward in the opening, fueled with gravity and inertia the ladder swung violently backward slamming Eliot's head into the wooden frame of the opening. The thud and ripping sound was sickening. Appearing to move in slow motion, Carter watched Eliot Stokes disappear into darkness.
Carter heaved jagged breaths through his mouth. Blood streaming from his nose and head, he feebly staggered to pick up the lantern and listened. Nothing. Was the man dead? Richard cautiously pulled the ladder back to its original position and eased the lantern into the opening. He had to be sure.
He continued to hear nothing. Carefully, he eased halfway down the ladder. The lamp light revealed Eliot's motionless body, lying on his back, arms and legs splayed out on the kiva floor. A halo of ever-expanding blood flowed from his head. Richard felt his own head spinning and steadied himself on the ladder. With Stokes out of the way he had other things to do. He had to find Julia.
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Eliot heard nothing, the coolness of the floor rapidly moving through him carrying his body along in a cold current. The darkness was absolute in the space beyond the kiva. Pain and his body ceased to exist and he felt nothing.
"Son," A familiar voice spoke. His father sat across the table from him and smiled. "How was your day in high school?"
"It was a good day, Dad," Eliot answered and watched his father fumble with his knife and fork as he tried to cut his roast, then heard the guttural groan. His younger brother, Hunter yelled, "Ma, what's wrong?"
Easing his father to the floor he opened his father's shirt as the man gasped for air. The eyes staring up were wide with fear and he felt helpless to ease his father's agony.
His mother sobbing at his side turned and shouted directions to the crying youngster. "Hunter! Run! Bring Dr. Wilson! Tell him your father's having a heart attack!" The young boy turned and bolted from the house slamming doors in his retreat.
Eliot felt his essence moving, his body gone.
"Eliot."
Music began to play.
He leaned forward capturing her eyes, nodding his head, as he dipped and swayed picking up the syncopated tango from the piano. The pace was exhausting, their concentration broken by smiles and nods encouraging the other to maintain the pace and precise synchrony, the melody passing back and forth between piano and violin. The violin picked up the melody with a staccato effect; then abruptly ceased. Both collapsed with gasps and nervous laughter.
"Eliot! We did it! That was so exhausting but so wonderful!"
He leaned against the piano, his heart racing, his eyes falling into ocean blue eyes framed by curls of spun gold. At sixteen she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, their music a form of foreplay.
Did she know? Could she feel it in the way his violin caressed and moved with her piano? In return her fingers vigorously touched the piano keys urging him on.
Did she know his breathlessness was from the mental tango he danced with her?
Was she aware the melding of their notes was like dancing cheek to cheek to the tango they played?
Did she know the exchange of melody between piano and violin was like the twists and turns of their bodies to the tango beat?
Could she feel their music and see them dancing, moving as one?
He turned as if to adjust the strings of his violin, while he stifled his feelings, thoughts and images. After all, she was a mere girl of sixteen, and he ten years her senior, was a grown man.
Gasping for air and feeling the cold, he emitted a groan of pleasure and pain… Arielle, what do you do to me?
He stood sipping ice tea on the wide porch of the old Victorian home. In another week he would be returning to Boston, to Harvard. The Libertango and Arielle, now eighteen, still left him breathless.
"Eliot."
He finished the tea and sighed. "It's time that I left."
Arielle took the glass from his hand and sat it on the table.
"You know I will miss our tutoring sessions…our music."
Eliot nodded. "You've grown up, Arielle. I'm not sure what more I could offer you. You're an accomplished musician. You need training at a music conservatory."
The young woman nervously moved a lock from her face before looking up to catch his eye. "I'm not sure I'm a brave as you, Eliot. Moving away from here, I'm not sure I could do it."
He fought the urge to comfort her, to stroke the flawless cheek.
"Arielle, I have faith in your abilities both musically and academically."
"I know you do. Your faith sustains me." She answered softly.
Eliot moved to the edge of the steps. This would be the last time he would see her for months on end. The rigors of graduate school and his doctorate lie ahead.
He felt her hand on his arm. "Your faith sustains me, Eliot."
Without thinking his fingers covered her hand. "It won't be long." His fingers gently caressed the strong, slender fingers.
"I will miss you."
Eliot smiled sadly. "Parting is always such sweet sorrow." Slowly, he released her fingers and descended the steps.
This was far more difficult than he had imagined. Halfway to the car he turned to wave, when Arielle closed the distance between them, tears welling up in her eyes, he could no longer resist. Her arms circled his neck, her cheek pressed against his. Eliot could feel the warmth of the tears against his cheek and felt the frantic beating of her heart. He hesitated for a moment, before slipping his arms around her pulling her close, feeling her warm body pressed against his. With each breath he breathed Arielle and groaned with anguish and pleasure. Reluctantly, he pulled her from him. Slender fingers moved across his cheek, caressing his lips.
"Stay or take me with you," She pleaded.
Eliot felt his heart ready to explode, his body ached. Arielle why do you do this to me?
"I can do neither," He whispered.
~~~tbc~~~
A special thanks for the following. No copyright infringement intended.
"Almost a Whisper" lyrics by Pamela McNeill. Music by Yanni
"Libertango" music by Astor Piazzolla from The Tango Lesson Inspired by the performance of Yo Yo Ma