Unresolved
Charles cursed to himself as he nearly broke his head tripping over a broken tree branch hidden under what seemed like a million of leaves. Looking around him, he wondered what kind of lunatic would leave civilization and choose to live in this backwards hell hole. Though the thick blanket of shade from the trees protected him from direct sunlight, the humidity in this god awful wilderness had his shirt soaked through in his perspiration.
Irritated, his wiped off damp strands of light blonde hair out of his eyes. Leaning his elbow against the rough bark of the closest tree, he rested for a moment to catch his breath, then pulling his sticky shirt off his broad frame. Looking at it distastefully, he slung it over a shoulder and continued on his way.
God he was tempted to go back on his way, but he came here for a reason and refused to leave until he saw it through. Trudging through the woods, he checked his padd once again wondering for the seventh time if he was on the right track.
The air was getting cooler as the sun began to lower, and Charles nearly cried in relief when he saw a thin line of smoke climbing through the air. Squinting, he readjusted the heavy pack on his shoulders, estimating the person responsible for the fire was only several miles away. He'd reach them before sunset, and if he was lucky, it would be her.
*****
Luck was on his side and he saw her before she spotted him, giving him a chance to watch her unnoticed. It had been years since he last saw her, under less then happier circumstances, and grudgingly he admitted to himself she was beautiful. The years had been kind to her.
Her black hair was tied in a simple pony tail at the nape of her neck, and she was kneeling in the dirt, working a small spade in a squalid patch of greens. The garden was pathetic, half wilted and stunted, it was obvious gardening was not the best of her abilities.
His blue eyes narrowed as he continued to study her while she gingerly poked the rich dark soil with her index finger.
"Grow. Groooow."
Her voice though edging on whiny exasperation lacked any real conviction and he wondered why she bothered at all.
"There are machines made that can make you any vegetable you want."
Startled at another human voice, she looked up at him and paled like she saw a ghost. Recognition flashed on her face and Charles felt a brief stab of malicious joy out of the pain in her eyes. She hadn't expected company and he was sure she didn't think he'd end up here.
After the initial shock, silent she eyed him warily, sizing him up.
"I wanted to try it on my own." Her voice was cautious, she was testing the waters.
"You don't seem to be doing well." He responded, allowing them this meaningless chitchat they both knew would not last for long.
"It doesn't matter. I don't eat it anyways." Finally she pushed herself off the ground, standing tall to face this male that often haunted her dreams.
"Hello Hoshi."
"Hello Charles."
The expression on his face was humorless, his voice flat. "I go by Con. Charles was his name."
"He was your father."
"I don't need you to tell me that." A slight shade of anger crept unbidden into his voice. Pausing, he slammed shut the gates to the never ending supply of bitterness in his soul.
"Besides," his voice was calm once more, "he went by Trip anyways."
"True." Hoshi complied.
A heavy silence enveloped the two, both thinking of the man they once knew, and the two he loved, each now facing the other.
"How's your mother?" She tried to make her voice conversational to keep up a pretense of familiarity, rudely smacked down by the tone of Charles's voice.
"What does it matter to you?"
"You're right, it doesn't." She shrugged. "Why are you here Charles?"
Charles didn't bother to correct her use of his name. At the beginning of his trip, he didn't really know why he was searching out. Standing there he now knew this confrontation had been awaiting him for a lifetime. Before today, before his father's funeral, it was designed to happen from the day Trip left Charles and his mother for her and deep down he had always known their paths would cross.
"I had to see," Charles's eyes were still narrowed, studying Hoshi with an intensity that made her heart pause, "what he left us for."
Understanding clicked in her eyes. A part of her also knew that this moment had been inevitable. As though all movements of the universe since Trip's death had been leading to this moment when she would face his embittered son. With his own eyes, he had to see his father's whore.
"What took so long?"
It was Charles's turn to shrug. "I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging your existence while he was alive."
"And now?"
"And now he's dead and I still don't have any answers."
A grim smile touched Hoshi's face and she almost looked sincerely apologetic. "I don't have any answers to give you Charles, except we were in love and love has no clear answers."
The woods was unearthly silent, as though the universe was holding it's breath, waiting for the resolution of the raging emotions Charles had held since he was 13.
"Sometimes I wonder," his voice sliced through the still air and had a self mocking quality, "what life would have been life if you had never existed."
If Hoshi felt any slight at his comment, it didn't show.
"Do you think you would have been happy?"
"Maybe, but he wouldn't." As Charles said it aloud, he knew it was true. And knowing it, he could almost admit he forgave Trip, and in forgiving him, he realized he loved him. With this finally uncovered truth, he didn't feel the relief he sought for. Instead, a heavier burden seemed to settle on his heart and his shoulders drooped from the weight. So he had loved his father after all.
"I loved him too." Hoshi had been watching Charles, and his sudden awareness of the constant heaviness pressing down on his ribs matched her own. She bit her lip and the crazy impulse to hold her former lover's son. So she tried to console him as best as she could.
Abruptly Charles's shoulders stiffened and he drew himself up with a weariness that sent a sharp pang through her heart. "I'm leaving now."
Hoshi could only nod. They were not friends and would never be. Their love for a man forever gone was the only tie that bound them together, and it too was slowly unraveling. Subconsciously she knew she would not see him again, and in her head she took a snapshot of his image, realizing she loved him. She loved him because Trip had loved him, and something in her died to let the last remnant of Trip go.
Silent again, he stared at her thoughtfully, as though he too was inscribing her face in his own head. Turning, he began to walk away.
"Charles."
He paused, turning his head slightly at the sound of her hesitant voice.
"He loved you so much." She nearly panicked, knowing if she let him walk away right now, the shadow of his father would cripple him forever. Words swam in her head, and desperately she tried to find the right ones to free Trip's son from a bitter future. "In the end he had to live for himself. We all do."
Hoshi didn't watch him leave. Carefully she listened, and when she could no longer hear the crunching of dried leaves, she sat down in front of the small cabin on her crooked wooden bench Trip had insisted on making years ago. His eyes had twinkled as he laughed at her raised eyebrow.
Leaning her back against the wall, she stared up at the sky, her breath catching at the sight. It was so heartbreakingly blue.
Charles cursed to himself as he nearly broke his head tripping over a broken tree branch hidden under what seemed like a million of leaves. Looking around him, he wondered what kind of lunatic would leave civilization and choose to live in this backwards hell hole. Though the thick blanket of shade from the trees protected him from direct sunlight, the humidity in this god awful wilderness had his shirt soaked through in his perspiration.
Irritated, his wiped off damp strands of light blonde hair out of his eyes. Leaning his elbow against the rough bark of the closest tree, he rested for a moment to catch his breath, then pulling his sticky shirt off his broad frame. Looking at it distastefully, he slung it over a shoulder and continued on his way.
God he was tempted to go back on his way, but he came here for a reason and refused to leave until he saw it through. Trudging through the woods, he checked his padd once again wondering for the seventh time if he was on the right track.
The air was getting cooler as the sun began to lower, and Charles nearly cried in relief when he saw a thin line of smoke climbing through the air. Squinting, he readjusted the heavy pack on his shoulders, estimating the person responsible for the fire was only several miles away. He'd reach them before sunset, and if he was lucky, it would be her.
*****
Luck was on his side and he saw her before she spotted him, giving him a chance to watch her unnoticed. It had been years since he last saw her, under less then happier circumstances, and grudgingly he admitted to himself she was beautiful. The years had been kind to her.
Her black hair was tied in a simple pony tail at the nape of her neck, and she was kneeling in the dirt, working a small spade in a squalid patch of greens. The garden was pathetic, half wilted and stunted, it was obvious gardening was not the best of her abilities.
His blue eyes narrowed as he continued to study her while she gingerly poked the rich dark soil with her index finger.
"Grow. Groooow."
Her voice though edging on whiny exasperation lacked any real conviction and he wondered why she bothered at all.
"There are machines made that can make you any vegetable you want."
Startled at another human voice, she looked up at him and paled like she saw a ghost. Recognition flashed on her face and Charles felt a brief stab of malicious joy out of the pain in her eyes. She hadn't expected company and he was sure she didn't think he'd end up here.
After the initial shock, silent she eyed him warily, sizing him up.
"I wanted to try it on my own." Her voice was cautious, she was testing the waters.
"You don't seem to be doing well." He responded, allowing them this meaningless chitchat they both knew would not last for long.
"It doesn't matter. I don't eat it anyways." Finally she pushed herself off the ground, standing tall to face this male that often haunted her dreams.
"Hello Hoshi."
"Hello Charles."
The expression on his face was humorless, his voice flat. "I go by Con. Charles was his name."
"He was your father."
"I don't need you to tell me that." A slight shade of anger crept unbidden into his voice. Pausing, he slammed shut the gates to the never ending supply of bitterness in his soul.
"Besides," his voice was calm once more, "he went by Trip anyways."
"True." Hoshi complied.
A heavy silence enveloped the two, both thinking of the man they once knew, and the two he loved, each now facing the other.
"How's your mother?" She tried to make her voice conversational to keep up a pretense of familiarity, rudely smacked down by the tone of Charles's voice.
"What does it matter to you?"
"You're right, it doesn't." She shrugged. "Why are you here Charles?"
Charles didn't bother to correct her use of his name. At the beginning of his trip, he didn't really know why he was searching out. Standing there he now knew this confrontation had been awaiting him for a lifetime. Before today, before his father's funeral, it was designed to happen from the day Trip left Charles and his mother for her and deep down he had always known their paths would cross.
"I had to see," Charles's eyes were still narrowed, studying Hoshi with an intensity that made her heart pause, "what he left us for."
Understanding clicked in her eyes. A part of her also knew that this moment had been inevitable. As though all movements of the universe since Trip's death had been leading to this moment when she would face his embittered son. With his own eyes, he had to see his father's whore.
"What took so long?"
It was Charles's turn to shrug. "I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging your existence while he was alive."
"And now?"
"And now he's dead and I still don't have any answers."
A grim smile touched Hoshi's face and she almost looked sincerely apologetic. "I don't have any answers to give you Charles, except we were in love and love has no clear answers."
The woods was unearthly silent, as though the universe was holding it's breath, waiting for the resolution of the raging emotions Charles had held since he was 13.
"Sometimes I wonder," his voice sliced through the still air and had a self mocking quality, "what life would have been life if you had never existed."
If Hoshi felt any slight at his comment, it didn't show.
"Do you think you would have been happy?"
"Maybe, but he wouldn't." As Charles said it aloud, he knew it was true. And knowing it, he could almost admit he forgave Trip, and in forgiving him, he realized he loved him. With this finally uncovered truth, he didn't feel the relief he sought for. Instead, a heavier burden seemed to settle on his heart and his shoulders drooped from the weight. So he had loved his father after all.
"I loved him too." Hoshi had been watching Charles, and his sudden awareness of the constant heaviness pressing down on his ribs matched her own. She bit her lip and the crazy impulse to hold her former lover's son. So she tried to console him as best as she could.
Abruptly Charles's shoulders stiffened and he drew himself up with a weariness that sent a sharp pang through her heart. "I'm leaving now."
Hoshi could only nod. They were not friends and would never be. Their love for a man forever gone was the only tie that bound them together, and it too was slowly unraveling. Subconsciously she knew she would not see him again, and in her head she took a snapshot of his image, realizing she loved him. She loved him because Trip had loved him, and something in her died to let the last remnant of Trip go.
Silent again, he stared at her thoughtfully, as though he too was inscribing her face in his own head. Turning, he began to walk away.
"Charles."
He paused, turning his head slightly at the sound of her hesitant voice.
"He loved you so much." She nearly panicked, knowing if she let him walk away right now, the shadow of his father would cripple him forever. Words swam in her head, and desperately she tried to find the right ones to free Trip's son from a bitter future. "In the end he had to live for himself. We all do."
Hoshi didn't watch him leave. Carefully she listened, and when she could no longer hear the crunching of dried leaves, she sat down in front of the small cabin on her crooked wooden bench Trip had insisted on making years ago. His eyes had twinkled as he laughed at her raised eyebrow.
Leaning her back against the wall, she stared up at the sky, her breath catching at the sight. It was so heartbreakingly blue.