CHAPTER 5: THOUGHTS IN THE EARLY MORNING
The vehicle started driving away from the Andrews' Mansion. It was past five o'clock in the morning and the streets were silent and somber. Susanna feigned a yawn in an attempt to hide from her husband the suffering caused by the jolts of pain running up the stump of what once had been her left leg. In some occasions, she still felt like her leg was there, as though they had never amputated it. Sometimes she could even feel the movement of the toes that no longer existed, the slight tickling on the sole of her foot, the muscular tension in her ankle... Her recent usage of a prosthetic leg was causing her to develop ulcerations on her surgical wound; her tender skin hadn't yet become accustomed to the hardness of her new artificial limb. In order to avoid the pain to grow more intense, and that subsequent grimaces could alert Terry of her discomfort, she quietly moved her prosthetic limb to a position where the pain reached a bearable level.
She gazed at the young man as he drove. His quick and effective reflexes never ceased to amaze her. She blushed as she thought about how many other pleasurable uses he gave to those hands. She felt quite content by his side. Thanks to his presence, she had been able to overcome the depression in which she had fallen after her tragic accident. She had even resigned herself to abandoning her acting career with joy. Never, in her entire life, had she been so happy. Although, in the beginning of their relationship, he had acted quite distant and evasive, now, she could almost feel confident that he had found a place for her in a small corner of his heart.
She had longed for her wedding night with such anticipation! But he had somehow managed to postpone that moment, using her weak health as an excuse. After a year of being married and living together, yet never having consummated their union, the young girl had finally resigned herself to her situation. She had made such great efforts to recover, to rehabilitate that piece of flesh that hung inertly from her body and that, before, had been a beautiful leg. She hated her stump, hated her ugliness, and hated having become handicapped. But, above all, she had hated her selfishness for not having relinquished Terry to the woman he really loved. That is why she had resigned herself to having him by her side merely as a companion, since it wouldn't have been fair to ask for anything more. She was well aware that he still was in love with Candy, and that, probably, he would love her forever.
Yet, in spite of it all, fate had been merciful on her. One day, she had noticed that the way in which her husband looked at her had changed. There was suddenly a subtle difference. He enjoyed keeping her company by candlelight, contemplating her in silence, lost in his own thoughts. Sometimes he even smiled at her. At those moments, she would have done anything to entertain him, longing to keep him with her forever. Shortly thereafter, he had begun to talk with her about himself, to confide in her his dreams and hopes. They had become friends. To her, it was like living a dream.
She remembered they had traveled to Boston so that he could rehearse for a religious play that was to take place during Easter. Knowing he was grateful for it, she had become used to helping him every night with the memorization of his lines. It was the perfect excuse to spend a few hours by his side.
Then, it came that night. She had felt quite tired, her eyelids kept closing despite all her efforts to resist her sleepiness. She had spent all day attempting to control her new wheelchair, as well as doing her routine exercises of rehabilitation in order to strengthen her flaccid muscles. Although she had been practicing for months, ever since Terry had started to show her some affection she had felt stronger than ever. She had even been able to reduce her dependence on Esther, her private nurse, and had asked Doreen, the stewardess of the estate, to give her cooking lessons.
Her present disability had made her realize she had been living inside a bubble, sheltered and spoiled throughout her entire childhood and adolescence: for that reason, she had started to make a strong effort to become independent. It had been quite painful to make the decision to ask her mother to live on her own, rather than in Terry's estate with her. Yet, her mother had ended up accepting it, knowing it would be the only way to guarantee her daughter's marital and psychological well being.
That night, in Boston . . . Her body had felt as though pinned by thousands of needles due to the physical effort she had had to make, even blisters had appeared in the palms of her hands from her attempts to control her wheelchair. Although she had tried, she couldn't hide her pain from Terry's eyes as she helped him with his rehearsal. But he had surprised her in a most pleasant way when, taking her face into his hands and looking into her disbelieving eyes, he had started to kiss her.
Later that night, she had felt like she was dreaming when, at last, he made her his wife in every sense of the word. Not even the grandest ovation she had received during her successful acting career had prepared her for the multitude of sensations that overtook her when he made her his. Nothing had ever satisfied her so plentifully. He had gazed at her naked body, his eyes had rested on her deformity and hadn't felt repugnance. On the contrary, he had worshiped and kissed her with a tenderness she never thought he could possess. He had made her feel pretty again. Since then, she had begun to feel desired, young, and a glimmer of joy had inundated her eyes.
"How have you been feeling tonight, dear?" Terry's voice broke the silence that reigned between them, driving Susanna out of her thoughts.
"Very well. It was a lovely party. And Candy looked stunning. I would have liked to greet her personally, but there were so many guests, and she was so busy attending them. Were you able to speak to her at least?".
Susanna felt surprised when she realized she no longer felt jealous of the one who had once been her rival. She had agreed to attend the party with Terry, willing to accept the fact that, when seeing his true love again, Terry might decide to abandon her. She sincerely esteemed Candy, and, were this to occur, she wouldn't have been able to reproach either of them. But for some strange, fateful miracle, he had chosen her.
He nodded as she let out a sigh of relief, enjoying his presence as if it was the very first time she was with him.
"I'm glad to hear that, Terry. I was worried, thinking we might have made a bad impression on her. I left her present in one of the bedrooms as one of the maids indicated. Do you think she will like it?"
He smiled without taking his eyes off the road, as he placed his right hand on the young woman's crippled knee. "Don't worry, darling. Candy is a simple girl, and you have great taste."
She slightly knitted her brow. "Oh, Terry! I'll never be able to pay her back for saving my life. I shall always be indebted to her. I owe her everything I have, especially you."
Terry continued to caress her wound softly. He felt how her muscles relaxed at the touch of his fingers. "How have you managed with your prosthetic leg tonight, Suss?"
Susanna gasped before answering. "Very well. Don't worry."
He couldn't help but noticing the gesture of fatigue that appeared in her face despite her great effort to hide it. "When we get home, I'll give you a massage with the special oils the doctor recommended, anyhow. You know you must be very careful with the ulcerations now that you're using this leg."
She shook her head. "But Terry, it's far too late. You must be exhausted after having gone to the party. I will ask Esther to help me tomorrow."
He didn't respond immediately, but, judging from the look on his face, Susanna could see he was determined. She shrugged as she anticipated with great excitement the pleasure that his eyes seemed to be promising her. Terry's massages were fascinating and were always accompanied by tips that always delighted her.
"Did you know I promised Mother that tomorrow we'd go visit her?" she remembered suddenly. "I know you two don't get along too well, but we have been away for so long that at least I should go visit her."
Terry didn't make any comments, he simply continued driving as his wife came closer and kissed him on the neck.
"Susanna, I'm driving" he told her, trying to feign seriousness.
"I know," she replied without moving away from him.
The young man's lips curved into a smile. "Alright, I will go with you. Now, be a good girl."
Instead of retreating, she threw her arms around his neck and continued to kiss him even more intensely than before.
"Susanna . . . I said I would go with you."
She stopped for a moment. "Very well, you will come with me. Thank you, my love," she said and kissed him again.
Terry sighed loudly. Sometimes her behavior was the same as that of the capricious teenager she had been in the past. After all, it's understandable. She's only twenty years old, he thought for a moment.
She became aware of his seriousness and felt frightened. "Are you angry with me, love?" she asked regretfully, stopping herself.
He shook his head.
"You think I'm still a spoiled and impossible girl, don't you? I don't want you to think that of me. I really am trying to change. Do you believe me?"
The young man assented as she sat back reverently in her seat. Seeing her so contrite, however, awakened in him an uncomfortable sensation of repentance. "Come here, you silly dear," he said as he gave her a fiery kiss on the lips. "Don't be sad. You know you can play with me all you want."
The young woman's eyes recovered their glow when hearing him, and her face was once again filled with happiness and life.
"Oh, sweetheart . . . you're absolutely right. I can wait until we get home." He placed his hand close to hers and caressed them softly. "You can rest your head on my shoulder and close your eyes if you like. Relax a little. You'll see we'll be home soon," he offered without looking at her, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
The young woman followed his advice. She rested her head on his wide and comfortable shoulder, closing her eyes. Just a few minutes later, Terry could hear her regular breathing and realized she had fallen asleep. The vehicle soon left the city behind, and then it deviated onto an inner road leading to the Forrester Estate, which was situated about thirty miles from Chicago. Terry had decided to rent a mansion in the country for the sake of his wife's health. Even though Susanna would have never asked him for it, he knew the rural tranquility would contribute to alleviate the nervous tension that the rehab exercises and the process of getting used to the prosthetic leg caused in her. He couldn't deny her recovery had been prodigious. She had put forth her best efforts in the past year, and her spirit of perseverance had captured his heart.
His career had required him to travel excessively within the past few months, always from here to there, having to endure exhausting rehearsals and constantly changing schedules and locations. Susanna had tolerated it all with stoicism, without one word of reproach, but he knew that kind of a lifestyle was not the most indicated to aid in her recovery. He had then decided to take a sabbatical year to devote himself completely to help nurse her back to health. Moreover, he was seriously considering the possibility of writing a play based on a story that had been in his mind for several months.
He suddenly noticed the young woman was shivering from the cold as she slept, so he sped up while managing to cover her up with her shawl. Unconsciously, she held his arm closely, pulling it toward her chest. This gesture evoked in Terry the contact of another woman whose scent still remained, impregnating all his memories, enveloping him with the same magic of the past.
Having reencountered her that night had brought about a catharsis of some sort in both of them. She looked so beautiful. Her charm made all the other women in the party pale in comparison to her. I had imagined she'd be exquisite when she matured, but in reality she has far exceeded all my expectations. Everything in her is seductive: her beauty, her proper, delicate and adorable manners . . . Her eyes haven't lost one bit of allurement, and her heart has gained, if that was possible, in goodness and maturity. If ever there was a woman on Earth who embodied my feminine ideal, that has been you, Candy.
Having seen her abandoning the mansion to seek refuge in the garden, he hadn't hesitated to follow her. He had been observing how she had sat on a bench, her gaze fixated on the playful lights gleaming over the fountains, while he lurked behind a lush chestnut tree. To his ears there had come the notes of a musical piece by Chopin he recognized as the one to which they had listened together the night they had spent in the Scottish estate of the Grandchesters. For several minutes, he had silently admired the girl, who, with her eyes closed, seemed to be consumed by the memories. Seeing her lost in her daydreaming had reminded him more than ever of that flirtatious and rebellious adolescent he had met on the deck of the ship that headed for St. Paul's Academy in London more than seven years ago.
"My dear Tarzan Freckles", he had whispered to her as he sat next to her.
Surprised, she had opened her eyes, her cheeks blushing. "Terry, it's you!".
He had made a face at her as he laughed out loud. His heart was as touched as hers. Being so close to her seemed like a dream come true. However, he hadn't wanted her to perceive how moved he really was. He had decided to be strong for both of them in the present, as Candy had already been in the past.
"Who else could it be, Miss Tarzan Freckles? Or is there anyone else that dares to call one of the most beautiful girls in the party that way?"
She had given him back a smile, sharing his sense of humor.
"You're impossible, Terrence Grandchester! You will always remain St. Paul's terror! At all times so impertinent with girls. I hope that, at least, you haven't given up playing the harmonica I gave to you!".
He had winked an eye as he took a rectangular object from the pocket of his jacket.
"You still have it!" she had shouted with excitement.
He had opened the cover to take out the instrument. Then, he gave some deep breaths as he had concentrated on the rhythm of the waltz that the orchestra had begun to play. It hadn't taken him long to follow the melody, playing it perfectly and improvising, at the same time, difficult harmonious and new rhythms. Candy had listened to him absorbed. As he played, the youngster's eyes had run all over her body with longing, his lips fitted to the cold metal with desire, as if through the melody he could express and share with her all his passion, so long repressed. Nevertheless, the barrier that had taken them apart in the past still remained between them. When the music stopped, he had realized that she could read through his soul as clearly as himself.
"I've begun to love her, Candy", he had said with his well-modulated voice.
After listening to his confession, she could only stare at him. No words had come out from her throat. Why have I told her? I have just hurt her for the second time, Terry had said to himself. But he knew he would have never been able to act in any other way. She deserved and wished his total sincerity.
"If you are happy, I will be happy too", the girl had finally managed to say, her sincere look full of tenderness. "I would have never borne that you felt unfortunate. And Susanna deserves to be happy".
Candy had kept silent for brief instants before she continued.
"When I left you that night in New York, something inside myself told me it would be forever. After that, sometimes, I have dreamt about a future for us both. However, I always knew my dreams were just utopias, unreal fantasies. Seeing you here tonight! Being by your side! It's like reviving one of my dreams, Terry... I didn't want Albert to invite you. I didn't know how I would react when I faced reality. You are married to Susanna and I have no rights upon you but... I still love you, I can't avoid it. It's something stronger than me. Sometimes I think I will be in love with you eternally."
She had lowered her eyes in an effort to defend herself from the emotions that overwhelmed her, prisoner of some sadness he recognized as his own. He sensed it as a reflection of his own melancholy, of the same deep emptiness that had suffocated him in the past, before finding a reason that gave meaning to his life after parting with her in New York.
He had taken her hand, wanting to communicate her some of the inner peace that, with extraordinary effort, he had been able to reach. And, maybe also, a bit of hope in the future, in her own future.
"Here," he had whispered, as his finger pointed out to his heart, "it is born an invisible thread whose end is irrevocably joined to another similar one placed in your own heart. It's an extremely thin fiber, but it will never be broken. You and I know it. It's stronger than us, stronger than life, stronger than death. It will always be there, beyond time and distance. Nothing will destroy it, no barrier could ever be against us."
He had opened his arms and she found refuge between them. They were in silence for a moment, enjoying the touch, before he had continued talking.
"We're twin souls, Candy. I'm convinced that we have lived other lives together, and that in the future, when we're no longer Candice White and Terrence Grandchester, we will be together again. It's our destiny. A destiny bigger than us. Therefore, I don't regret being unable to be with you in this life. Although Susanna took us apart, it is said that God doesn't give us responsibilities that we aren't able to bear, neither loads that could surpass our strengths. Since my father died, I have been thinking a lot, Candy. I have thought a lot about us. Before, I was living a torture, unable to forgive neither the destiny that obliged me to leave you, nor myself for being so coward as to accept it."
At that precise moment, she had began to touch his cheek with her soft fingers.
"I remember one particular day, Candy. I was in London, with Susanna, who had been my wife for almost a year. Ours wasn't a happy marriage, as you can imagine. And it was all my fault. I knew she loved me, but I couldn't stand her vision, nor her touch. I always tried to spend most of the days outside home. I'd rather be alone, wondering the streets, than being a minute with her. Her obsession with me, her love... terrified me, because I was unable to correspond her feelings. That day, I passed by St. Michael's chapel by chance, and something made me going inside. You know I have never been a religious person, but the quietness and calmness of the place attracted me. I remember I sat in one of the benches of the church while a rare sensation of peace stifled me. There were some people praying, and their devotion and reverent attitude made me wish to imitate them. It had been ages since the last time I had prayed and I couldn't remember any of those prayers my mother taught me when I was a child. But the desire to talk to God was so strong that I made up my own speech. After that I felt calmer, happier, complete."
He interrupted himself again, fighting to find the best way to mould his thoughts into words.
"That night, when I came back home, I was surprised to see Susanna under a different light. Her resignation, her feelings towards me, her suffering... acquired a new dimension. I realized that my attitude towards her had been selfish and unfair. Her only sin had been to love me too much. It had been me who had decided to marry her in a free will. I knew I couldn't go on thinking just about myself and my own happiness."
Candy then had opened her mouth; she had just been about to say something but no words came out.
"You are a strong woman, Candy," he continued, "you have gone through every difficulty you've found on your way. But Susanna is just a girl that hasn't grown up yet, lost in a world she doesn't understand at all. She needs me, Candy. I know you'd despise me if I left her alone. You would never be happy by my side knowing that I had left behind a destitute soul."
She had agreed in silence, facing the truth hidden in his words. Terry had demonstrated her that he knew her better than herself.
"Maybe we can't be together in this life, my dear. But I know there will be other lives for us," he had whispered her in her ear while he was holding her tight.
He had felt the girl's body trembling against his, though her face showed a deep determination. When she had finally talked, her tone was vehement, her cheeks red due to her inner excitement, her pupils dazzling impetuous.
"I have wondered many times why I let you go away! I have revived our goodbye at those stairs so many times! In my dreams you always take me to the railway station and come back with me to Chicago. But you're right on one thing: we could never be happy together, feeling guilty for Susanna's unhappiness. Although I have been lying to myself, I have always known..."
The girl had placed her right hand on her chest, as if she was looking for some inner strengths to keep on going.
"Even so, I can't avoid wishing we were back to those happy days at St. Paul's College, when we thought we had a future at our disposition, when we foresaw stunned that long life that we were going to spend together, when we fell in love. I want you to go back today with me to that past, to that May Ball when you kissed me... I want you to kiss me for the last time. Terry..."
For an instant, he had stood still.
You don't realize what you are demanding from me, Candy, he had thought. It will be a torture for me. Remembering the taste of your lips, knowing that I will never be able to hold you again in my arms. You are reviving in me a desire that I've been repressing since we went apart. Can't you understand?
But, watching her so near him, fragile and supplicant, had broken his defenses. Turning his face towards her, he had sealed her lips with a kiss. For a moment, there was no present. He had imagined himself in his French cavalier suit, while he was holding his Juliet in his arms, so lively, anxious, full of energy. Although he had tried his touch to be chaste, he had felt that some force more powerful than himself invaded his senses completely. So many years of abstinence, living in her absence, took out from him a deep lament.
Then, he felt complete again, as if the light, that had before been stolen from him, had come back, more intense than ever. His breath had become nimble, his heart lighter, his soul had known fullness at last.
The lights of the fireworks that enlightened the night illuminated their shapes, dragged in ecstasy. Almost as if, in their last goodbye, Heaven had wanted them to find perfect happiness.
I love you, Terry. I always will.
I love you, Candy. I always will.
Although they didn't say it aloud, both of them could hear their thoughts as if they had cried them out. When they went apart, some of their nostalgia had disappeared, at the same time that a new acceptance shone in their eyes.
"Promise me one last thing, Candy," he had asked her while he held her hands between his, "be happy besides someone who loves you deeply. And try to love him as much as he loves you. That is the only way I will be happy."
Then, she had looked at him with eyes full of trust in her future. And he had believed her.
Now, in his car, he couldn't avoid thinking that he had left the most precious treasure of all; however, when he looked down to the relaxed figure that was leaning on his shoulder, he knew that the absence would never be so bitter.
Goodbye, my dear Tarzan Freckles. I hope you can find happiness. I promise you I will fight to reach my own. And surely, someday, somewhere, we will be able to start together again.
Note of the author: Thanks so much Vio () for your wonderful translation of chapter 5. ( 2000 Rosa Carmona