All The Way
German translations at the end of the passage.
Chapter 19
Later that night…..
The violin string quivered beneath his fingers sending a haunting melody throughout the kiva. Lazily she reclined on the ladder listening to her bare-chested photographer, admiring the way the muscles of his arm and chest flexed while moving the bow. Dreamily her eyes enjoyed the slender mustache that graced his upper lip and wondered if it might tickle if he kissed her. How silly, how adolescent, the thought made her chuckle. Eliot was her friend, why would he entertain such thoughts. The music from his violin changed from longing to passion, recreating the canyon performance and recalling the wonderful sound.
Her eyes fluttered, growing heavy, when the bright lights in the kiva flickered and dimmed. The music abruptly ceased and a child screamed. Julia's eyes flew open frantically searching the shadows of the kiva. Eliot was gone and she was alone. A woman whispered in an unfamiliar tongue trying to console a frightened child, when suddenly strong fingers gripped her ankle. Immediately she turned, kicking with her other foot, trying to break free. She managed to pull herself halfway up the ladder still trying to free her leg from the menacing brown force trying to pull her back into the blackness. Instead, she felt her body sliding down the rails of the ladder and coming face-to-face with a pair of pale blue eyes framed by a stained brown shirt.
"Wir treffen uns wieder mein lieber, Julia."1
Julia's eyes grew wide with alarm and horror. It couldn't be! The man …the man in the brown shirt, the one who stared into her heart so long ago. He was here, how did the 'evil one' follow her to Utah?
"Lass mich ruhe! Geh weg!" 2 Julia shouted.
A slender, snake-like tongue darted out and moistened thin lips before pulling into a thin smile. His pale blue eyes moved over her covetously.
"Sag mir, du bist ein Jude. Ich will dich nicht verletzen. Wir mussen nur einen kleinen ausflug, du und ich."3
Julia clinched her fists and shook her head. "Niemals!"4
The smell of alcohol and sweat grew stronger as his face moved even closer, hovering over her.
"Ich werde sie mir sugen sie sind Juden! Sprich! Sprich die worte!"5
Strong fingers moved across her shoulders and around her neck.
"Niemals!"6 She screamed. "Lass mich ruhe! Geh weg!"7
1. We meet again my dear, Julia.
2. Leave me alone! Go away!
3. Tell me you are a Jew. I won't hurt you. We'll just take a little trip, you and I.
4. Never!
5. I will make you tell me you are Jewish! Speak! Say the words!
6. Never!
7. Leave me alone! Go away!
Julia's eyes opened with a start, clawing at her neck trying to find the fingers and felt the stiffness of jointed legs. She swatted and heard the thud on the canvas wall as the insect flew across the tent.
Fully awake, she shivered and gasped for air, reaching for the flashlight near the bed, locating it and switching on the beam. Carefully she moved the light around the tent, taking inventory of her surroundings. Where had the thing gone? Was it still crawling around? She didn't want to find out. Inspecting the floor, she hopped out of the cot and checked the robe and slippers before putting them on. She couldn't stand the tent a moment longer, she needed air. What a roller coaster ride, a wonderful dream then the nightmare. Julia flung open the flap and deeply breathed in the night air. Thank goodness no one had her heard cries, not even Richard.
The physician's eyes narrowed in thought. Not even Richard, she repeated to herself as she moved slowly pass his tent. Again it was dark and quiet just like the first night. Julia frowned. If Richard was sleeping then why did he look as though he had not slept in days? She would check later. But first she needed to walk and calm down. A lantern illuminated the mess tent. She could see Herbert Osmund and Denis Summerlin engaged in a lively chess game. She wasn't really up to chess and Summerlin's relentless attention. Ju-li-a, indeed. At the end of the row a dim light glowed in Eliot's tent.
Seeing the professor's tent suddenly made her feel foolish. She was a grown woman having a romantic dream about a friend like an adolescent girl experiencing her first pangs of love. Why he was her Eliot, how could she have such dreams? It would be like lusting over a colleague, a fellow professional. She would just stop by for a chat. Polite conversation would take her mind off her dream. Julia paused outside his tent, not sure how to begin. She couldn't knock on the tent fabric. What would she say in the form of a greeting? She could hear music, familiar music.
"When somebody loves you,
It's no good unless he loves you, all the way.
Happy to be near you,
When you need someone to cheer, you all the way. "
Yes, I need someone to cheer me. Julia smiled and continued to listen as the music played.
Eliot Stokes opened the book he had been reading and pulled from its pages a letter, letter from Professor Azzam Kamal, of the University of Cairo. He had been so busy with the Utah preparations he had not had the time to pen a letter to Azzam. He had met the Egyptian professor in Turkey, and the two immediately made a connection. They discovered they had a common interest. Both were fascinated in reincarnation and the supernatural. Over the years they had corresponded and met when the occasion presented itself. And now Azzam was making a generous offer. Come to Egypt, the letter urged. Azzam had been wandering around the university's extensive subterranean archives and had made an interesting discovery. He wanted Eliot to come to Egypt. He wanted to share his discovery with him. Stokes sighed, the offer was tempting. He had promised his time to Herb and the Utah project. How could he convince the university he needed another off campus assignment and time away from his classes? He slipped Azzam's letter in the back of the book. The open pages revealed another letter, a letter graced with the elegant script of Marjorie Stone. Dear Marjorie, he thought. She was gracefully juggling his class along with her own class load as well as her university obligations. All was going well she wrote. Marjorie was always a romantic optimist. How could he ask her to take another semester? In closing, she had hinted members of his department missed him and so did she. Eliot placed her letter behind Azzam's. The movement caused the pages to flutter revealing a newly developed photo.
Eliot gently moved his fingers across his lips, his eyes moving over the glossy black and white. Oh Julia, why do you affect me so? Without conscious effort you are so sensual. Gracefully she reclined on the ladder, like a feline in repose. The smooth bare breast peeked through the gap in her white blouse, the erect nipple pressed against the moist fabric.
"Eliot, are you awake?"
He jerked to attention, snapped the book closed. Clearing his voice, he answered.
"Yes, Julia."
He placed the book beneath his chair, turned off the tape player, stood and adjusted his robe before moving to open the tent. Eliot eased open the flap and found the robed physician.
"I wasn't sure if you were awake, I couldn't sleep. You know, a bad dream."
Eliot held the flap to the side for her to enter.
"Please forgive me," Eliot began, a smile playing on his lips, "But I'm a man who can't ignore a coincidence."
Julia lowered her head and smiled, recalling the events surrounding their first meeting.
"Bad dreams! How long has it been since my silence was broken by a most insistent woman knocking on my door, barging into my home early one morning, desperately needing my help with a troubling dream, a 'dream curse' it was."
Julia smiled, "Yes, it was a 'dream curse'. It was five years ago. I remember how you confronted Angelique and forced her to back down. When it was over you casually laughed and compared yourself to St. George and the slaying of a dragon. I've never forgotten your strength, your bravery. I suppose that's why I've always turned to you for help."
For a moment the professor seemed at a loss for words at her compliment when Julia quickly added. "I'm sorry to disappoint, but my bad dream only involved some ghastly insect."
Eliot seemed relieved and chuckled. "They do have a way of slipping in. Can I interest you in some sherry?"
"Yes, please."
He gestured to a chair next to his. She looked around his tent and marveled how he had all the comforts of home, so unlike her Spartan quarters. Eliot poured their drinks, and returned to his seat and raised his glass for a toast.
"Sweet dreams." He toasted as Julia brought her glass to touch his.
"Sweet dreams." She agreed.
"I would offer you some cheese, but I'm afraid keeping food in our tents is a definite no-no. Food attracts too many unwanted visitors. Your insect visitor tonight would seem minor compared to coyotes and mountain lions."
The physician's eyes widened. "I think I'll pass on the midnight snacks."
She watched as he refilled their glasses, and without thinking slipped her feet from her slippers and ran her toes through the luxurious lamb's wool rug, the rug from his living room in Maine. How wonderful it felt on her toes that night as they sat before the fire.
They both took another sip of the sherry. The silence between them was easy and comfortable.
"Hallie came to see me this morning." Julia began.
Eliot's eyes showed concern.
"It was a minor issue. While she was there we began to chat. I guess at Collinwood we never really had much time get to get acquainted."
He was relieved and nodded, encouraging her to finish her story.
"She misses her parents very much, especially her mother." Julia watched him closely for any reaction.
Eliot stared into his drink, not meeting her eyes.
"As Hallie's uncle I know you're tried to fill the void over the years."
Eliot looked at her, his eyes moist. "It has been difficult. Teenage girls are a great mystery to me."
Julia laughed kindly, "Eliot, teenage girls are a mystery to themselves. You must remember I was one many years ago."
She noticed his eyes narrowing as though trying to visualize a teenage Julia.
"She wants to travel back in time. Your niece wants to go back and warn her parents and preventing their death in the accident."
"It's too dangerous! After all she's been through she must realize there are no certainties. There can be complications."
Julia nodded, "I tried to tell her. But she's convinced she wants to do this. I wanted to let you know. I felt you should be aware so that you might watch her. I know out here in Utah it would be difficult to pursue this interest, but back in Maine, it could be a problem."
The professor nodded, his eyes narrowed in thought, digesting the news.
Julia's toes moved through the rug, recalling the last time she felt its softness.
"Hallie and I did have a nice talk. I explained that I had tragically lost my parents."
His eyes moved across the soft folds of her robe and noticed how the lamplight gave her skin a golden glow. He was thankful for her presence in his niece's life.
Julia felt the warmth of the sherry spreading through her body and recalled the evening they had consumed several brandies and had talked for hours.
"Eliot, Hallie wanted to know why I had chosen to be a doctor rather than a housewife."
His eyebrows arched slightly.
"When she asked I couldn't help but recall what a fool I'd made of myself at your house, going on and on about my mother and my life."
"A fool?" Eliot asked, his tone changing.
Julia laughed, "Oh you remember, I couldn't stop talking, I must have been intoxicated and made a total fool of myself."
Eliot stood and walked a few steps in the confines of his tent before turning to look at her. Julia followed his actions in confusion.
"You believe you made a fool of yourself?" He pointedly asked again.
Julia nodded innocently, laughing, not able to understand the change in his behavior.
"If I recall, Julia, I told you of my regrets, things I've never told another living soul. I dared share them with you. Was I being foolish?"
Julia's eyes fluttered, laughing nervously. "Of course not, I didn't mean it that way."
Eliot stood above her, recalling how on that same evening she had fallen asleep in the chair by the fire. He had gingerly taken a blanket and placed it around her shoulders. Her face turned to the side, a picture of tranquility, a sleeping beauty. Impulsively, he had bent and kissed her cheek. He could still feel the softness of her skin against his lips. She stirred slightly, her lips pulling into a contented smile, never waking. That night he recalled the kiss over and over in his mind. The next morning he prepared fruit-filled crepes for her.
He returned to his chair and sat down, eyes staring ahead in concentration.
"I'm sorry, Eliot, I didn't…."
"Do you really find it that difficult to admit that we shared something that night?"
Julia looked aw-struck.
"Do you still feel that sense of loyalty? I must confess, I've always admired your loyalty, Julia. But I wonder, do you cling to a past loyalty that will not bring you happiness?"
Julia looked away. Had she clung to an unrealistic vision of loyalty and love? Was Eliot right? Had she transferred this sense of loyalty? Was this why she was drawn to Richard Carter? Slowly she rose, and moved to the tent opening. Eliot stood and stepped behind her. He fought the urge to put his arms around her and tell her how much he loved her and how she would always be the center of his world. But this wasn't the time. He was a very patient man.
"Julia."
The sound of his voice stopped her. She turned. His tone was soft and authoritative. He had used this tone with her before, and she had listened. She looked into his eyes, waiting for his words.
"As with Barnabas Collins, Julia, you must decide, how far will you go with Richard Carter?"
Her eyes moistened as she bit her lip. The silence between them seemed like an eternity. Finally Eliot stepped forward and unzipped the tent. Julia walked outside, turned and met his eyes and watched as he slowly lowered the fly. She turned on her flashlight and moved down the row of tents. She admired his strength and bravery; he was her St. George. Why was Eliot always so right? Damn. And damn Richard Carter too.
Julia stopped outside Carter's tent, turned off her flashlight and listened. Why was Richard looking so worn, so fatigued? The wind slightly rustled the tent and in the distance a coyote howled. Leaning closer to the canvas she listened, and heard nothing, not even a rustle or gentle breathing. Gingerly, she pulled the zipper and opened the fly. What would she say if Richard awoke? Cautiously she slipped inside. Holding her breath she listened and heard nothing. She turned on the flashlight and scanned the neatly made cot. The tent was as Spartan as her own. The beam stopped and hovered over the crate. Julia felt her heartbeat quicken over the letters Richard Carter – Personal. She inhaled deeply and turned around to make sure Richard was not standing in the doorway. The lock on the crate hung open. In two quick steps Julia knelt before the crate and slipped the lock from the hasp. She had learned from experience opening a box, or coffin could release some evil force? Julia hesitated. Where was Richard and why had he left it unlocked? The more she thought, the more she realized opening the box was the only logical thing to do.
Carefully she lifted the lid and opened it. Julia trained her flashlight inside. Her brow furrowed in thought. The box seemed almost empty. He wouldn't bring an empty box all this way. Whatever was missing, Richard must have it with him. Julia leaned in closer, examining the materials remaining in the box. With great care she moved the natural fiber lining and found clinging to the fabric several long, coarse strands of hair, along with a dull, white sliver of bone. She ran the strand of hair through her fingers. It was long and coarse, covered with a waxy material. Was it from an animal or human? Beneath the cloth was a manuscript. The manuscript was cloth-like and the inks were natural and the document had been carefully rolled in an effort to prevent creases. Julia eased open the roll, propping the flashlight between her neck and shoulder. Inside the rolled manuscript she found a small sheet of paper containing notes. The notes appeared to be in a Richard's hand. Julia realized she had been holding her breath and took a deep breath. The notes were simple, just a few words. Julia turned her attention to the manuscript. The writing was in pictographs, similar to hieroglyphics. During her research on Native American cultures she did recall seeing a few pictographs used by the Mayans. Would she be able to identify them? On the reverse side of the artifact a map had been drawn. Unfortunately there were no political markings or lines only natural landforms. The area appeared to be the American southwest. Should she dare remove the manuscript and the notes? Would Richard notice them missing? She could take them to Eliot and let him photograph them. How would Richard react if he knew she had been in his crate?
~~~tbc~~~