It would be an entire five days before I found in myself the courage to talk to Elizabeth again. Not courage really, more like strength. Her presence kept bringing back feelings and long kept memories that I'd hoped I'd be able to let go of. After our experience at the cemetery, I thought it'd be best if I just cooled it for a while. Elizabeth managed to reopen wounds that had only just begun to heal. I don't think my heart was ready to have to deal with the pain.
But after five monotonous days of sulking around, everything just became too strange. I realized I missed her. Within those five days, I often found myself looking through her window with my telescope, wondering what to do, debating in my head whether to see her or not. What I saw tore up my insides and only brought down guilt. She looked like a worn down animal, left with nothing but the clothes on her back. Some nights, I'd see her sitting with her knees in her arms on her bedroom floor silently crying through shut eyes, whispering words my heart ached to hear. For what seemed like hours, I'd watch her and once or twice I'd feel my own tears cascade down my cheeks. More than anything, I wanted to go down to her house and wipe every tear from her eyes. Tell her everything would be alright, even though I wasn't sure myself if they would. More than anything, I wish I did do just that.
Finally, after I didn't think I could stand it any longer, I went over to the Matthews'. After five days of watching Brian with what seemed like maddening rage, I felt sure he wouldn't be home at this hour. It was about nine. Stars twinkled above me, like lights to guide my way. I treaded through a neighbor's fresh-cut lawn so I wouldn't waste another minute walking. The sweet aromas of freshly fallen leaves and autumn filled the air. The sound of a bird fluttering towards the full moon startled me for a second. But even then, my heart seemed to skip a beat as I neared her house.
I knocked on the door, and there she was, smiling. In the midst of all that seemed to be happening to her, there she stood, smiling.
"Hey Landon, how've you been? Do, do…. D'ya want to come in?" she sweetly inquired. I felt surprised and at the same time, strangely enough, glad, she'd invited me in. She went to the kitchen to heat some sweet tea up. She told me to sit and make myself comfortable while I waited. As I sat down on the musty forest green sofa, I glanced around her living room.
For the first time, I noticed her piano. Its pure white and black keys glimmered in the glare of a nearby lamp. I went over to it and touched a key. A calm, unfaltering note answered me. I hit another and then another, and soon found myself playing the first notes of a haunting song. A song that lingered in my memory and both comforted and devoured my mind. It was the song Jamie sang on the night of the spring play.
Although I never had the time to learn how to play the piano as well as Jamie, in the year following her death, I taught myself how to play this song. Since then, I'd developed a great respect for anyone with the patience to learn the piano. The sweet, yet haunting melody filled the room. I could almost hear Jamie's glorious voice singing to it. Its wonder, joy, pain, and hope echoed in my ears, and for a few moments she was alive to me again. The thought of her gone seemed to be nothing but a dream, a nightmare I'd finally woken from. I felt a single tear moisten in my eyes as the final note died. When it did die, I felt a sturdy hand on my shoulder. I looked up and found myself staring into Elizabeth's soft blue eyes.
"That was beautiful," she whispered, staring intently at my hands. She picked my right hand up and smoothed it over with hers. It almost seemed as though she knew my story, my pain, my longing. After a few moments of silence, she finally asked, "Where'd you learn it?"
I looked at her. Her sweet, yet strong voice echoed in my head. She smiled and in her eyes comforting sense of a lost innocence was reflected. I looked at her hands, which held mine. They were long and soft, pianist's hands. Strong, yet precise. For the first time, I didn't see her as a reminder of what I'd lost. I saw…I saw Elizabeth.
"Someone close taught it to me," I said, smiling back.
"Wow, did he write it? I've never heard it before."
"Yeah, she did write it," I whispered. Her everlasting smile stayed on her smooth lips, but they somehow seemed to fade a bit.
"She's a wonderful musician."
"Yeah, she was."
"Was?" she asked, suddenly sounding concerned. I took a deep breath, and looked her straight in the eye. Every nerve in my body seemed to tingle, and every hair on my body seemed to stand on end.
"Jamie, she died a year ago." My voice cracked as the word 'died' passed my lips. Suddenly, reality struck me. In the tortuous year that followed her death, never had I had to admit it. Never did I ever have to hear myself say those words.
Elizabeth looked at me, with sudden understanding. "Sometimes, things hurt so much, that it's easier to deal with when you tell yourself, it didn't happen."
"It is easier," I admitted.
"But in the end, it hurts just the same. Sometimes even more. Lingering on it doesn't help either. Reopening wounds from the past can never heal them," she said. Her words made sense, and from what I'd known her words rang true and had meaning.
"Then, what can?" I asked.
"You'll have to find that out on your own. I had to find a way to heal the wounds my parents left after they died. Its hard, and at times I felt like if I could see them just once more….just one more time…." Her voice did not continue. A single tear rolled down her cheek. I caught it with my finger and wiped it away. She blushed and smiled.
"How'd you heal your wounds?" I asked my voice cracking.
"When I do, I'll tell you," she said, clearing her throat and wiping her eyes. Suddenly, a grandfather clock rang 10. "You'd better leave before Brian comes home," she whispered. I nodded and looked into her eyes once more. They were moist, but still held a soft, pulsating glow.
"Goodbye Landon Carter," she said, as I ran out the door.
Houses and starlight were all but a blur to me. When I finally reached home, my body was completely worn out. I took a quick shower and went into my room. I closed my eyes and thought of all that'd happened today. I thought of the piano, I thought of loss, and I thought of Elizabeth. I thought a lot about Elizabeth, to the point where, while lying in bed, I couldn't bring myself to sleep. For a few moments, I could almost say I loved her. I massaged my fingers, and thought of hers. Yet, as I did, I felt my wedding ring on my finger. An ocean of guilt poured itself all over me. Jamie and my vow to love no one but her filled my mind.
Torn and confused, I kneeled at my bedside and prayed. I prayed for peace, I prayed for understanding, most of all I prayed for Jamie to forgive me for everything I'd done.