My entry in the Eras Contest, getting third place in the judges vote and SixDlb5's Judge's Favorite. The well-run contest was all fun and no drama, so thank you to the team who clearly worked hard behind the scenes. Your enthusiasm and professionalism was very much appreciated.
Special thanks to Di White for your wonderful suggestions. You can't know what a help you are.
There were some amazing entries in the contest, and you can check them out at u/15897606/The-Eras-Contest.
"This is yours, Cullen."
"Thank you, sir." Getting a letter always lifted my spirits, and looking at the envelope, postmarked July 10, 1975, I wondered how the stamp tasted when he licked it. Posting a letter in a U.S. mailbox was one of many things I looked forward to. Normal things that people do. Of course, this letter had been opened and read before it was delivered to me, and since there were no snarky comments today, its contents mustn't have interested the guards.
The sight of Emmett's elegant scrawl reminded me how much I missed him. It had been six weeks since his release, and I was still waiting. It wasn't because I'd done anything wrong, merely a frustrating scheduling issue, but I had to keep telling myself not to blow my top when I was this close to freedom. The day was coming soon, and Emmett would be waiting outside when they let me out to restart my life with a criminal record.
I took out the letter and unfolded the sheet of paper.
It's nearly time, Edwina, and I'm being faithful, so don't you go and misbehave. Give my respects to the ladies and a big smoochy smooch for EVERY one of their cheeks.
Chuckling, I knew he'd included this for the benefit of the COs he referred to as the ladies. He'd started this banter soon after we arrived as two anxious eighteen-year-olds finding out we couldn't hide from the other prisoners. After we stupidly accepted a tour of the facility, Big Seth and his sidekick, Paul, maneuvered us into an isolated area, and we had to fight for our lives to keep them off us. It was just crazy luck that two guards saw what was happening and broke it up because I suspected things would have been very different if we'd had to say the names of the inmates who'd caused our injuries. When they moved Seth and Paul to the medium security wing the following day, we began a strict regime to bulk up so we could defend ourselves, and Emmett protected me by publicly calling me his girl.
With the end now in sight, it was strange to look back on two years of confinement and appreciate the ways we'd survived. Since he'd been released, I lived for Emmett's phone calls and letters, letting me know there was life on the outside.
My parole officer says that as long as we're working and staying out of trouble, we should only have to see them once a month. If you want a place to start, I can get you a job with me.
We did have to start somewhere, but I was still getting used to him taking this new path. All I could do was hope he was being honest when he said the fitness industry was going to be his future. Group classes in air-conditioned studios with fab music. Exercising could actually be cool.
After two years of punching bags, pumping iron, and running the perimeter of the courtyard, Emmett was easily fit and strong enough to work as a fitness instructor. Alice Brandon, another instructor and the girl he was sharing an apartment with, had choreographed a routine for him to appeal to both men and women. Apparently, she had all-female classes planned for me.
They'd met when he started work at Fitness Forever in Downtown LA and quickly recognized a mutual ambition to start their own business. Alice was in her second year of a business degree at UCLA, so she was learning about business plans and applying for financing, and he felt he'd forever regret passing up the opportunity. Emmett and I had talked for hours about regret, so I understood why it was important to him.
I got a letter from Bella the other day. She's back in Forks and not doing okay.
No, none of us was, really. Recovering from an event that impacted so many lives would take time, but Bella couldn't seem to accept that James' death was not her fault.
Can we please take the tin can up the 101 again?
The tin can was my 65 Kombi, a decent set of wheels when I was sixteen and home for some of our best times away. Mom got me the terry cloth seat covers and even sewed my curtains from the bamboo print material she had left over from our living room remodel, never asking why I needed privacy. The bus definitely made me more interesting to the females at school, but there was only ever one girl I tried to impress, and for a while, Bella Swan made me the happiest boy in town.
My brother, Jasper, would bring the bus to LA as soon as I asked him. He'd been driving it since he and Dad took it back to Forks after we were sentenced to a minimum of twenty months in jail.
I want to wake up at the beach and swim the sunrise again.
Swimming the sunrise. Emmett and I had been doing it since we were sixteen, and it still defined our ultimate sense of freedom. After two years in prison, I wondered if we'd ever get to feel that way again.
We'd swum the sunrise twice in the summer of 1973 on the drive from Forks to LA when we camped overnight at Pelican State Beach on the Oregon-California border and Shark Fin Cove, near Santa Cruz. James preferred to sleep until breakfast, but Jasper joined us for all of our sunrise swims. It was the first time James or Jasper had been on one of these trips, and Mom insisted that Jasper sleep in the bus every night. We told her Emmett and James would be sharing the tent we attached at the side, but my little brother was so excited at being allowed to come along that he did whatever we said.
We'd sing at the top of our lungs to Pink Floyd, Stevie Wonder, and Steely Dan, and James would annoyingly announce that "Reelin' In The Years" was Bella's favorite song. I had to believe he wasn't gloating over the fact that he was her boyfriend, now, and that he just didn't know it was me who gave her Can't Buy A Thrill for her seventeenth birthday.
I was jealous when James or Emmett would go off to a pay phone to call Bella or Rosalie, but I tried to emulate the classy way Bella had handled herself in the months since we broke up.
We didn't spend any time in LA, planning to see the sights when we returned, so we parked the Kombi at a friend of James' and caught the bus to Tijuana. It was a six-hour ride, but the ticket was cheap, and we had enough for a night at the Casa Marena, one street back from the Playas de Tijuana.
"To Mexico!" Emmett had raised his Corona, and we joined in the toast, celebrating being eighteen and able to drink legally for the first time. Still sixteen, Jasper was disappointed with his bottle of Coke, but we had to show our passports to be served alcohol. James was already twenty and had given us strict rules for the trip because he didn't want any trouble that would cause him to lose this easy source of income. There was to be no eating from outside vendors, no prostitutes, excessive drinking, or taking drugs. Tijuana was not the kind of place you went for a family vacation. It was a town where you set down before jumping off to other destinations, so the locals were aware there was limited time to fleece unsuspecting tourists.
Our parents only agreed to let us go because James had done the trip safely a half dozen times already, and we'd never been in any trouble our whole lives. Emmett and I were both starting Yale Law School at the end of August, following in the footsteps of two very proud fathers—partners at Cullen McCarty, Attorneys at Law.
With the afternoon sun on the sand, James handed our passports in at the front desk for safekeeping. The plan was to wander along the Avenida Revolución until it cooled off a little and then go to the beach. Surprised to see hippies with anti-war signs, we moved away from them and came across a man with blankets on his shoulder and hundreds of necklaces with tiny colored beads over his arm, cooking himself in the sun. I paid a couple of bucks for a polaroid of the four of us standing in front of a wagon with a donkey painted as a zebra, mainly because of the "Tijuana 1973 Mexico" sign that proved we'd been there, but also because of the two cute girls feeding my ego with their giggles and stares. I ended up buying Jasper one of the cheap hats, warning him to stay in sight of me or we'd be meeting back at the hotel.
Fascinated by artists painting on black velvet, I couldn't imagine Mom wanting one for the house. Where to go next was a bit overwhelming with people singing with accordions and guitars, and others calling out for us to stop and look at their vibrant paper flowers, painted pots, leather belts and wristbands, metal conquistador statues, ponchos, blankets, Jesus sandals, flared jeans, high-waisted pants, second-hand furniture, clothing, and shoes, signs for Kahlua, Corona, tequila, and tacos, rusty buses and even rustier cars, and everywhere the smell of food. After an hour, we'd had enough.
We walked back to the hotel where Emmett showed off the suede pants and fringed jacket he got for five bucks, and we fell around laughing when Jasper asked how he was going to launder the crotch. Swapping our jeans for board shorts, we raced each other to the beach.
"Hola!" I turned toward the female voice, and it was the two cuties we'd seen earlier, now reclining on sun lounges in crocheted bikinis.
"Have you been in the water?" I wasn't even sure if they spoke English.
"Oh yeah, and it's really refreshing," the girl in the cream bikini responded.
"Did you buy anything in town?" I asked, searching for something to say.
"We bought these." She used her hand to draw my attention to the skimpy two-piece.
"Very nice." I really hoped that didn't come across as creepy.
"I like your hair," she added, making me study them more closely, looking for a sign they might be selling sex and realizing I had no idea how to tell.
"Thanks," I replied, deciding not to find out. The others were already in the water, and I'd come here to cool off.
I almost drowned with the three of them splashing and teasing me about the bikini-clad girls. When they finally left me alone, it was refreshing, the most perfect temperature, and Emmett was clearly in love with life on this glorious afternoon. I knew we'd be swimming the sunrise in the morning.
We stayed in the ocean for the rest of the afternoon, went back to shower, and then found a place to eat with a view of the sunset. Just as our food arrived, the same two girls appeared and asked if they could join us—one of them still staring at me—introducing themselves as Gianna and Kate. Chairs were added and plates of food moved to accommodate two girls who were clearly all grown up tonight. Gianna was leggy in a clingy, wrap-around mini and white platforms. Kate's floaty maxi was halter neck style, and she looked quite sunburned from the beach. They were both stunning and looked like they knew it.
It was a bit awkward until they admitted they'd already eaten and were just out looking for fun. I let James' interactions with them guide me, and he didn't seem to treat them as anything other than tourists like us. When he asked what they were doing in Tijuana, they said they'd been on a cruise from Long Beach to Cabo San Lucas and Ensenada, and instead of staying for the overnight leg back to Long Beach, they left the ship and caught the bus up to Tijuana. As long as they were on their flight from LA to Chicago, their parents didn't need to know what they got up to.
It was a sign of the times, I supposed, but I wasn't used to these modern girls, so confident and brave.
"Where are you staying?" I asked, wholly intrigued by their sense of adventure.
"Here … upstairs," Gianna replied with a smile, and James whistled, saying they must be rich.
"We're only here for one night," she explained. "Do you want to see our room, Edward?"
Looking at James, I saw nothing to warn me of danger, so I let go of my caution and said yes.
James was right about their accommodations being expensive. They had a couch, a television, and two big beds, unlike the singles in our dormitory-style room.
"Tequila?" she offered, lining up two shot glasses and opening a bottle.
"Sure," I replied, as if I'd had it before.
She handed me the tiny glass, and I copied the way she threw it back. It tasted sharp and it burned my throat, not something I'd recommend.
"Another?" she asked, and I declined, remembering I'd agreed not to get drunk, and I wasn't sure how the tequila would mix with the beers I'd had with dinner.
"Would you like to sit outside?" She took the glass from me and looked up through her long black lashes, leading me out onto the balcony where the breeze was amazing. She motioned for me to sit, but instead of taking the other chair, she sat in my lap.
As she slid an arm around my shoulder, I was very aware of her breast. "So … Edward … is it obvious that I find you attractive?" Her fingers crept into the hair at the back of my head. "You know I didn't bring you up here to see the room."
"You said you like my hair." I knew it sounded lame the moment the words came out of my mouth, but I had never been with anyone so blatantly sexual. I closed my eyes when her nails scraped over my scalp.
"It's so thick and soft, like Jagger's."
My hair was the only way I really rebelled at home. Dad had given up on telling me to get it cut, especially when I was leaving so soon.
"The color is … fab," she observed, taking a handful and pulling it gently. "What do you call it?"
"Most people say it's bronze." I smiled and wrapped my arms around her, adjusting her position slightly.
"Something else feels thick and hard."
There was no hiding my body's reaction to her, and I couldn't help the chuckle that came out.
"What?" she asked, frowning.
"It sounds like something you say to all the guys."
"Only when their dick feels thick and hard."
I laughed, enjoying her candor. "Does anyone ever turn you down?"
She smirked and shook her head slowly. "Are you going to kiss me?"
God, I was such a spaz. Here I was alone and aroused with a beautiful, willing woman, and I hadn't even hit first base. I held her neck, going for sensuality over passion, and when we came up for air, she was a little spaced out and sleepy. Like this, she was all scent, silky hair, and a dress that felt like a second skin, her nipples screaming out at the touch of my thumb.
Running her hands over my chest, she licked her lips. "We could do things out here."
Things. The thought of them went straight to my dick, and all I could do was nod, agreeing to whatever she wanted out here, inside on the couch, or even the bed. "I'm down with that."
Things between us definitely switched gears from that moment. Our kisses deepened, and she moaned, guiding my fingers to where she needed them. Breathless, she stood and pulled at the tie of her dress, and suddenly, I could imagine some dude on the beach looking up and seeing her naked, so I picked her up and walked her inside, loving the way she giggled.
She didn't indicate which bed was hers, so I set her down, and she backed away from me, letting the dress fall to the floor, magnificent in black panties and platform shoes. I especially liked the contrast between the tan and the pale white of her breasts, and I yanked off my T-shirt, desperate to feel them against me.
Her eyes raked over me, and she approached, undoing the buttons on my jeans, slightly startled when my dick sprang out.
"Oh! He's eager!" she declared, pulling my jeans and underwear down my thighs and pushing me to sit on the bed. Then she dropped to her knees and stroked me, circling the head with her thumb.
"Can we fuck?" I asked, expecting more than just this.
She stood and said, "I'm on the pill," and she slid the panties off and straddled me, moving my fingers to her nipples and easing me inside of her. I preferred to feel the curve of her hips while we fucked, but I liked how tight she got when she stimulated her clit. Sweat glistened on her neck, and I couldn't resist licking at a drop that rolled down her chest. That led to her crying out when I sucked on her tits, and I got to hold her hips as she shuddered and came. Rolling us over, I fucked her until I exploded.
Rolling off, my heart pounded, and I was drenched in sweat. "I'm going to need a shower."
"Sure," she responded indifferently and picked up her underwear.
"Do you want to join me? It will be much quicker since we've been gone for so long."
"I'm not going back with you."
Surprised, I asked, "What about Kate?"
"I'm not her keeper, Eddy. She can look after herself."
Eddy. I hated that name, and suddenly, I saw this for what it was. She'd gotten exactly what she wanted from me, and now it was time for me to go. So, since I was still wearing half of my clothes, it was just as easy to splash my face and use a wet washcloth to wipe off the sweat. Trying to reassemble my hair was a lost cause, so I gave up.
"I'll check you later," I said, making sure I wasn't leaving anything behind. Saying thanks didn't feel right for the situation.
"Cool." She didn't look up, searching for something in her suitcase.
Did I feel cheap? Yeah, I did, even though I was just as guilty of using her. There'd been no friendly conversation when we were on our own, so the only things I knew were that she'd come from a cruise and had a requirement to get back to LA for a flight to Chicago.
Walking into the restaurant, I could only see Emmett and James. "Where's Jasper?"
"Weren't they with you? He and Kate left about five minutes after you two. Where's Gianna?"
Where had they gone? I just prayed they hadn't entered the hotel room and backed out again when they saw what we were doing.
"They didn't come to the room." Raking my hand through my hair, it took every ounce of mental strength not to show my panic at the prospect of losing my little brother in Tijuana, on the one and only night we were there. There'd be no law school if Mom found out because I'd be dead. She would kill me.
Walking out in the street, I looked both ways, seeing a hundred different places to search. They could have stumbled into an establishment where they didn't ask for ID, and I wasn't even sure he'd ever tried alcohol, let alone marijuana or worse. He could be stoned right now in some drug den and not know how to get back.
"Edward?" I looked for the voice, and there he was coming up from the beach with a goofy grin on his face and his long Cullen hair in complete chaos. Kate saw me but kept walking toward her hotel. When he reached me, he lifted two thumbs up in front of him. "I just got a blow job."
I'd never been so relieved in my life. "Jesus Christ!" All the air seemed to exit my lungs. "I was worried about you!"
He put a hand on my shoulder. "Sorry, but I've never been better, man. That was a blast."
We swam the sunrise on our last day in Mexico. The ocean was calm and clean, and we floated while the sun splashed its first rays between the buildings. I had decided not to say anything about Gianna. She just wasn't an anecdote I cared to share.
James was waiting downstairs with his mousy hair pulled back in a ponytail when they delivered our cars. He had to show all our drivers licenses and sign the paperwork like he'd done previously. These deliveries took place all the time, apparently. People would drive down here and fly home, or they'd rent the car here and then someone would request that model in another city. These weren't your average cars either, and that was the main reason we chose to take this trip. Downstairs, there was now a yellow Corvette Stingray and a navy AMC Ambassador. I really hoped Emmett and I could take the Corvette and Jasper would go with James, but they were both beautiful cars, and it would be a long time until I could afford anything like them.
All of a sudden, Gianna and Kate were down there, too, and James was showing them the cars. I honestly hoped they'd leave quickly so I didn't have to face either of them, because Kate doing that to my brother was not something I wanted to imagine. Once they left, he came upstairs, jingling two sets of keys.
"Can we drive the Corvette?" I asked immediately.
"Yes, brotha. I'll be the one taking the expensive car."
That was easier than I thought. "When do you want to leave?"
"Within the hour. Hey, listen, I just agreed to the girls coming with us to LA."
"Gianna and Kate? Are you crazy?" I asked, horrified at the thought.
"Far out, Edward. Take a chill pill. They need a ride."
A ride. Chicks like those two were always looking for a ride, and if he thought for one second about cheating on Bella, I would knock his fucking lights out. Angry, I mulled over whether I should take Jasper with me and decided that he'd snitch if anything happened.
"You'll take Jasper, right?" Since the Corvette had only two seats, I wouldn't have to speak to the girls.
"Yeah, I'm cool with that, but I'm dropping my car in Seattle, so you've got him again in LA."
Even though I knew I meant nothing to Gianna, I thought I saw a moment's disappointment when she realized she was going in the car with James. Not looking at her again, I started the engine and grinned at my co-pilot when the Corvette purred.
James had given us very specific instructions for the crossing back into the States. I was to stay directly behind him, and he would do his best to keep me there. If someone cut in between us, then I was to stay in the same lane. James said he found certain lanes were more efficient than others, and we'd never crossed a border before, so we just stuck to his rules.
There was a lot of traffic, and we were separated, but only by two cars when an agent indicated for us to move to another lane. When I stayed where I was, he came over and asked what we were doing.
"I'm supposed to stay in this lane because we're with another car."
He leaned down and had a good look at the inside of the car. "When I direct you to move, son, you move."
"I'm sorry, but I was told—"
Clearing his throat, he peered over his sunglasses, the action clearly meant to threaten me. "You didn't hear what I said?"
"Yes, I did, sir. I just—"
"Drive over to the right-hand lane and stay in the vehicle."
I did what I was told, seeing the Ambassador waiting up ahead having already been cleared to go through. When another agent approached them, I saw a conversation going on, and the guy looked at where we were parked.
"What is this, Edward?" Emmett asked very quietly, obviously uneasy.
"Here comes our friend," I announced, watching our guy lumber over like he was out for a stroll.
"License and registration, please."
I took my wallet from the glove compartment. "I can give you my license, but this is not my car."
He took the license, giving it a cursory glance. "Well, that piece of information was never going to surprise me, sunshine. Whose car is it?"
I didn't have that information. "That's why we were supposed to stay with the other car. Our friend up front has the paperwork."
"Ah, your friend has the paperwork," he accepted, sarcastically. "What kind of paperwork?"
"We're delivering these cars on behalf of a rental company. We're driving ours to LA and he's going to Seattle."
I could see James getting out to talk to his guy now.
"Don't you think it seems a little strange that a rental company would send you off to Los Angeles without your own documentation?"
"I don't know. I've never done this before."
"Done what before?" he asked, as if he was trying to trip me up.
"Delivered a car, sir."
"And a very fancy car it is, too. You must be paying some hefty insurance for them to let you take this baby at eighteen. Or don't they know you're eighteen? The minimum age to rent a vehicle is twenty-one in Mexico and in California."
"We had to show them our licenses," I said with composure, hiding the shots of adrenaline firing through my system.
"Okay. Let me go talk to your friend."
He walked off with my license, and I felt like I was going to be sick. James had been doing these deliveries for months, so he must have known we were all underage.
Emmett blew out a gigantic breath. "Have we just broken the law, Edward?"
"You mean have I just broken the law? You've got nothing to worry about, but why mention insurance for younger drivers? Maybe they're only guidelines."
"Are we renting? I thought we were delivering. For us, it's just a four-hour trip."
"I don't know, but I'm going to kick James' ass if anything comes of this."
"Look, they're telling them to go."
The Ambassador pulled away, leaving the two agents holding what I assumed was our paperwork.
"That's a relief." Emmett sighed. "Looks like we're in the clear."
They talked for another minute, and our guy was on his way to us when there was a vicious bark. A dog had come up and was going bananas right beside us.
"Get out of the car and put your hands on your head," another agent ordered.
Right then, I was worried about the dog biting me. Boy was I naive.
When they cuffed us and read our Miranda Rights, I knew it was serious and that I had to remember to remain silent until I had legal representation. I wasn't really terrified at that point because someone had to prove we were guilty, and I knew we were innocent.
They left me isolated and cuffed for an hour, then another hour after they released my wrists. By the time someone came in to interrogate me, I had to ask if I could pee. No one we'd interacted with at the border was here. There were three new people strategically placed to intimidate me.
Our canine friend had reacted to a near-kilo bag of cocaine strapped under the passenger seat, and transporting it from Mexico into the U.S. was classed as distribution or trafficking, a felony charge punishable by up to three years in prison. Taking in every word they said, I didn't process it as having any significance for me. I just sat there and hoped I would soon wake up from the nightmare.
They told me that being caught red-handed meant we were guilty whether we had placed the drugs there or not, and I didn't really believe it until Dad arrived looking shattered, confirming it was true and that this kind of felony would not qualify for probation.
I was guilty of a serious crime, and I didn't even know I'd done it.
Seeing everyone at the sentencing was emotional. Both of our families were there, along with James, Bella, and Rosalie. James had been handling it badly and arrived with dark circles under his eyes, but there was nothing he could have done. If he'd been driving the Corvette, then he and Jasper would have been here because sixteen-year-olds were tried under the adult system for felony charges.
Charlie Swan had tried to find out what he could from the local authorities, but there was never any evidence of the drugs making their way into the car. The delivery company was following some dubious practices, but they weren't unusual for Mexico, and no laws had been broken. Gianna and Kate produced three sets of thirty-six newly developed photos that proved where they'd been, but they were never really suspects.
Charlie actually said we were very lucky they stopped us at the border, because somebody was waiting to take possession of their goods, and people like us were expendable when it came to the profits from high-grade cocaine.
Somehow, I didn't feel very lucky hearing the judge say it saddened her to pronounce judgment on two young men with such promising futures, but we had perpetrated the crime, so all she could do was give us the minimum sentence in a minimum-security facility and urge us to use the time wisely. They allowed us to say our goodbyes, then transported us to the California Men's Colony in San Luis Obispo, three hours north of LA.
While we did have a rough start to our time in prison, we eventually found people we could trust, and Banner had been employed at CMC when they were constructing the new facility in 1961. Focused on rehabilitation, he had seen every kind of success and failure there was, and he shared a lot of his stories during the group therapy sessions he ran.
At one of these sessions, there was a discussion that changed the way I saw my future. Dad had told me I wouldn't be able to practice law with a felony conviction, but Banner knew of people who'd served time and gone on to become attorneys.
"How does that apply to someone like me who's been convicted of trafficking cocaine?" I liked to drop that information around the new faces because it was true and made me sound a lot tougher than I was.
Banner wasted no time in encouraging me. "It's more common than you think for practicing lawyers to have some type of criminal record. Maybe not so much with felony convictions, but it's not impossible.
"There are two portions of the bar application that future lawyers must pass. The first is the bar exam, and the second is the moral character exam where every aspect of your past life, including your criminal record, is reviewed. One of the most important factors is transparency, so the last thing you want to do is hide your criminal history during this part of the application.
"The main hurdle is finding a law practice willing to risk tarnishing their reputation by backing you. Why do you ask, Cullen? Are you thinking of studying law?"
It was not the best moment to admit I was about to start law school when I became a criminal.
"Maybe, but how would I get a law practice to back me?"
"In a perfect world, you would learn enough to pass the bar exam, working as a legal clerk until you gained an impeccable reputation."
My mind was traveling faster than I could handle. Dad must have known all this, so in telling me otherwise, was he saying he wouldn't risk his reputation on me? Did he deep down suspect that I was guilty?
"We have the textbooks in our library, and you know our policy here: confinement, therapy, and training."
Yeah, I might have heard it around fifty times before.
When I told Emmett about the conversation, he just shook his head and asked me how I could even consider it when the law had let us down so badly.
I chose to start reading the textbooks, anyway. The law still did fascinate me, and I had plenty of time on my hands.
We eventually settled into the monotony of life in prison. The days of the week dictated what we ate. We wore what we were given. We exercised, worked, and I studied whenever I could. I sent letters to James and Bella, and she reported back to me. College wasn't as great as she thought it would be, and he was selling color TVs. Mom and Jasper came to visit every six weeks or so. Dad not so often.
The news was full of campus riots and college students spread-eagled against cars. Every second new inmate seemed to be suffering from some kind of mental disorder. Most of the time they were normal, and then they'd be ranting as if they were reliving the nightmares of war. We thanked our lucky stars that conscription had ended because jail was a safe place compared to what these poor souls had gone through.
Credence and the Stones were being replaced by more and more disco. We had to accept that the only new music we'd ever get from the Beatles would have to come from the individual members. The Doors were gone, and the charts were full of Barry White and Olivia Newton-John.
In August, Richard Nixon announced his resignation and Gerald Ford was sworn in. By the beginning of 1975, people were being found guilty in the Watergate scandal.
The U.S. space station returned to Earth and the Russians sent theirs up.
Saigon finally fell to the Communist forces from North Vietnam at the end of April, resulting in the mass evacuation of all remaining American troops and South Vietnamese civilians. After twenty years and fifty-thousand U.S. casualties, the people we'd fought to protect still ended up having to surrender.
James committed suicide in May. None of us knew how to react to the news, but we all thought we had something to do with it. He had asked to come and see us, but we weren't even enjoying the visits from our families, so we said we'd catch him and Bella in Seattle on our way through to Forks. In hindsight, we might have denied him his way to make peace with us and say goodbye. Emmett said he should have called him, told him again that we didn't blame him. Bella was inconsolable, and we couldn't even be there to support her through the funeral.
James had become another casualty, but his death made me vow not to let what happened take away my life.
In July, I unofficially passed the bar exam. Studying while incarcerated was something the system encouraged, and Banner made enquiries about me getting credits for the work I'd completed. I kept the result between me and Banner because I didn't want the hostility from Emmett, but it was very satisfying to know that the era of my father deciding my future was over.
It was eleven o'clock on August 20, 1975, when they were ready to release me to the world. I could see the Kombi out there, and its blue and white exterior never looked so good.
It was strange going through personal items: my passport and wallet with an expired driver's license, the polaroid of the four of us at the sombrero cart in Tijuana, a few Mexican pesos and thirty U.S. dollars. Seeing the license reminded me that I was going to be a passenger in my own car for the journey home.
"Read this and sign it, Cullen." A CO I'd never met handed me my final release papers and I read every word, so I knew exactly what I was signing. Studying law had taught me about the specifics of language, so words were going to be my tools of trade, and if this job in Seattle worked out, I'd be using them in my own cases one day. As I was signing it, Banner arrived to say goodbye.
"You're going home?" he asked, and I nodded, confirming what I'd already told him. "Emmett coming to get you?"
"Yeah." I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. "That's my car," I declared, pointing proudly.
"You a surfer?" He was staring at the bus, and it made me sad that he knew so little of my life outside of prison.
"Not really—more of a body surfer, but I love the ocean."
"I don't think that's Emmett."
I looked again, and realized it was Jasper swinging his arms to stretch. "That's my little brother."
"Looks like a man to me."
"Yeah, he does." I could feel emotion rushing up my throat.
"You're clear to leave, Cullen."
I took a couple of breaths and Banner patted me on the back. "I expect a report from you."
"You got it, sir, and thanks." I knew I would try to do something for him one day, even if it was just to give someone like me a chance at a future, because that was what the man lived for.
I went through the exit and waved at Jasper, and he ran to me as tears streamed down my face. He gave me the best hug in the entire world and told me it was over.
"Sorry," I said, pulling myself together. I'd always been the one to look after him, drive him places, give him advice, and now we'd switched roles, it felt okay.
"Hey, man, don't apologize. I was close to tears myself, and I wasn't locked in that place for two years."
"Where's Emmett?"
"On the bus from LA. I asked him because it saves me another six hours of driving."
So, my little brother was learning to be assertive, making a perfectly legitimate request when he'd driven so far on his own.
"Okay, so where are we going? Do you have a plan?"
"It depends on when he arrives. Morro Bay if he's late. Big Sur or Monterey if he's on time. Either way, we're swimming the sunrise."
I nodded, appreciating him as a man. He was still Jasper, cheeky and light-hearted, but there were differences I hadn't picked up during their visits to the prison.
Hardly believing I was getting in the tin can, I climbed into the passenger seat, and the seam in my jeans opened up from my thighs to the crotch. They were snug when I put them on this morning, but so was my T-shirt. My legs and shoulders had grown a lot in two years.
Jasper was slapping his thighs, laughing as hard as I'd ever seen him. "You ripped the ass out of your jeans!"
"This is serious, Jasper! What clothes did you bring for me?" I had only asked him for enough for a few days.
"I grabbed everything you wanted."
"I think we're going to have to find a Goodwill."
"The collar's a bit … Were you going for a David Cassidy look?" Jasper asked me, uncertainty written all over his face.
We had actually found a gold mine in a Salvation Army store. For a total of twelve dollars, I was getting three T-shirts, one printed with the Sticky Fingers tongue, a soft, long-sleeved shirt with a tribal pattern, a polo with bold stripes, two sweatshirts, three pairs of jeans, and the big-collared shirt my brother had questioned. I also got a black turtleneck and light jacket for the office, but I'd buy work clothes in Seattle once I found out what the dress code was.
At least I could get in and out of the bus without embarrassing myself now.
Emmett descended the steps of the bus with a shorter, thinned-out hairstyle that really suited his curls. He crushed us both into a hug, and it was fitting that "Philadelphia Freedom" was playing as we left to go and get lunch.
"What do you want to eat?" Jasper asked when I kept staring at the menu.
"I think I want a hamburger with fries and a chocolate milkshake." I was feeling euphoric from the freedom of choosing a meal with my brother and my best friend alongside me.
"I'm buying," Emmett declared, pulling out his wallet.
"No, I'm buying," Jasper argued, getting his cash out. "Mom gave me money."
Emmett raised his eyebrows and looked at me, having witnessed Jasper's new confidence. He had already experienced an adjustment in our dynamic when Jasper stated that he was driving, and Emmett was relegated to the back seat.
We scarfed down our food, and I got a second burger.
"Where do we want to stay tonight?" Emmett asked, spreading out the map.
"I was thinking that we can make it to Carmel or somewhere along Monterey Bay. Seacliff State Beach looks nice," Jasper replied, using his fingers to circle the area.
"I'm diggin' it," Emmett agreed.
I was just happy to let the two of them choose.
"How do you feel about picking up Rosalie? She wants to come with us," Emmett announced out of the blue.
"Where is she? San Francisco?" He hadn't mentioned his ex for a while, so I was surprised he was keeping in contact with her.
"Berkeley. She's doing Optometry."
"You okay with that, Jazz? I don't have a problem taking one more." I looked forward to seeing her.
"Yeah, that's cool with me," he replied, smiling. "Especially since I'm going to Berkeley, too."
"What does that mean?" I honestly thought he was going to Yale, so this was news to me.
"When I told Dad I wanted to do finance, he said I was a fool, so I applied to three colleges, and UCLA offered me a scholarship."
I was both shocked and full of admiration that he'd found his own way, but I wasn't sure why they kept it from me. "Why am I only finding out about this now?"
"Dad doesn't know either."
"Fuuuck!" There would have been fireworks if I'd done something like that, and I actually hoped he'd find out while I was there so I could see the explosion.
"Mom has been helping me, Edward. After what happened to you, she wants me to follow my dream, not Dad's, and I don't think he really cares the way he did with you. He was so proud when you were going to Yale."
Dad's behavior made a little more sense now. My going to prison instead of Yale must have been humiliating when he'd probably bragged to all his colleagues and friends.
"Well, I think he's very proud of you, too. He just doesn't show it the way you'd expect. Give him time and he'll come around." I tapped him on his leg, hoping he knew that he could always count on me for support.
I studied the map, keeping my eye on how close we were getting, while Jasper serenaded us in his highest singing voice. "One of these crazy, crazy, crazy nights / One of these nights / Swear I'm gonna find you / Coming right behind you now."
"There." I pointed to the sign, and we turned off the highway, finding a site at the Seacliff State Beach Campground, right next to the sand. The restrooms had no showers, but we were only there for the easy access to the ocean. Changing into our board shorts, we charged into the waves, and coming up after being fully submerged was both a wonderful memory and the feeling of rebirth. I was the last to get out, finding them changed and ready to eat, and we had steak sandwiches and Coke for dinner, sitting outside at a table overlooking the water. We were able to get the tent and mattresses set up before dark, and under a sky sparkling with a million stars, Jasper asked if I ever doubted this day would come. I had to say no, because I always felt that we were strong enough to come out the other end intact, but nothing could have prepared me for how great this day had been.
Since Seacliff State Beach faced southwest, we could see the pinks in the dawn sky, and I could only describe swimming that sunrise as absolute bliss. Emmett declared that this was all he would ever need to feel whole again.
Rosalie Hale was a woman, a curvier, more confident version of the girl who sobbed at our sentencing two years ago, and Emmett's admiring stares showed that he noticed the changes, too. Farrah Fawcett would have been envious of the shaggy hairstyle she wore. The hug she shared with me brought more tears to my eyes, and I began to think the emotion was less about the two years we'd spent apart than the old life I forfeited when I gave in to my father's resolve. She didn't seem to despise me anymore, and I wondered how much Emmett had told her.
We gave Rosalie the front seat when Emmett drove, and she turned to us, explaining that when Jasper was applying to UCLA, he knocked on her parents' door, got her phone number, and asked for her advice on campus life at Berkeley. In giving him guidance, she was happy to assume a role as a kind of mentor.
When she changed the radio station, she was soon singing and moving in her seat to a song I wasn't familiar with. Emmett seemed to be just as psyched about it.
"What is this?" I asked, having never heard anything like it before.
"It's the 'Bus Stop' and it's new, like taking over the dance clubs right now," Emmett explained.
"Dance clubs?"
"Discotheques, Edward," Rosalie added. "Hundreds of people doing the bus stop together."
I was a little confused. "Doing the bus stop? So, it's a song and a dance?"
"Yes, brotha," Emmett translated for me. "There's a new world out there you haven't discovered yet."
"Wait until you hear 'Get Down Tonight' by K C and the Sunshine Band. It's outta sight," Rosalie declared.
I did like the music, but I wasn't sure that dance clubs were for me.
We agreed to keep the driving to less than five hours a day, giving us time to appreciate the journey and stretch our legs properly, seeing things like the giant Redwoods we'd all heard about. We clung to the coast as much as possible, swimming the sunrise in all sorts of weather conditions at Eureka, Coos Bay, and Cannon Beach, and no matter where we were, breakfast was always coffee, toast, and peanut butter, all delivered from our little Coleman stove. We spent most nights around a fire, and we often bared our souls to each other.
In this environment of honesty, I didn't feel judged. We knew enough about each other to understand the reasons for the choices we'd made and the regrets that inevitably followed them. I admitted that I never hated James for going after Bella. He swooped in and offered her everything I didn't, and in his position, I would have done the exact same thing.
Every day, something stirred memories of times when it was me and Bella, Emmett and Rosalie. They were some of the best days of my life.
The final push to reach Forks didn't have the same buoyant feeling as the days before. Most of us were preparing to face demons, and we all had them. Rosalie was sorry her friendship with Bella hadn't survived their attending different colleges, and apart from James' funeral, they hadn't seen each other in years.
Emmett knew he'd have problems convincing his family that at twenty, he was old enough to choose a different career in LA.
I dreaded opening fresh wounds, paying our respects to James' parents when we were returning, and he never would. Dad hadn't asked about my plans for the future, so Jasper and I would be hitting him with a double whammy when he found out both sons no longer needed him to decide their futures. I wondered how he would react when he found out Mom had gone behind his back.
Charlie Swan had been supportive of us when we were arrested, but I couldn't predict the reception I'd get from Renee. For me, the hardest part of this visit was knowing the old feelings would resurrect themselves when I'd be seeing Bella in all the places I fell in love with her, where I hurt her, and where I mourned the loss of her. On a good day, I believed Dad meant well in saying that teenage love was only fleeting while a Yale law degree was the foundation of a lifetime. On bad days, I was desperate to kneel at her door.
As the landmarks became more and more familiar, we turned the radio off. We made our last stop for fuel and ice creams at Queets with only forty miles to go.
We dropped Rosalie off first, and there was no sneaking in undetected with the Volkswagen engine announcing itself in their driveway. Mrs. Hale had big hugs for her daughter and then for us, but she didn't hold us up with a lot of questions, making us promise we'd come back to visit.
I'd seen the McCartys a couple of times when they visited the prison, but we hadn't spoken since the day of the sentencing. There was no welcoming committee today, and knowing Emmett was nervous about seeing them, I didn't want to leave him on his own, but he said he was honestly happy to freshen up and sleep until they came home.
It looked as if we also had our place to ourselves until Mom arrived with groceries, and the tender look she gave me, along with the long embrace, had me crying again. Jasper left us to unpack, but I hung around the kitchen, and she gave me things to peel and chop while I described every highlight we'd just experienced.
I asked her how I should handle a visit to James' parents, and she said they were eager to see me and Emmett.
"Do you think Renee still hates me?" I figured it was best to ask since I was certain we'd go to the Swans' place at some point.
"I do know that Bella wants to see you. She asked if you would call her when you arrived."
"So are you saying I should keep away from Renee?" I suspected I already knew the answer.
"No, it's just that the few times I've seen her, we haven't discussed you. I'm sure you can understand it's a touchy subject."
Yeah, I could understand, and being in this kitchen, I clearly remembered how it felt when we were accepted into Yale.
It was the end of March, 1973, when I called Emmett to tell him I got my letter, and he had received his, too. For a couple of days, we existed in a bubble of excitement until we fully realized what a commitment to an Ivy League college was going to mean. Yale expected all their students to take a job through all college breaks to get experience and to contribute to the cost of tuition and board, so there would be only limited opportunities to come home.
"All breaks?" I asked Dad, trying to get my head around what I was agreeing to. "When do I get to see Bella?"
"You can't go to Yale and keep a girlfriend, Edward."
"But I have a girlfriend, Dad!"
"Yes, and I know that you care for her, son, but you're only seventeen. In a year, I can guarantee you'll be dating different people. This is the time to concentrate on your studies or you'll be throwing away an incredible opportunity. Do you want to throw away an incredible opportunity?"
I was suddenly so tired and morose, I couldn't think of an answer.
"You can't expect the girl to wait around for you, either. She'll need to knuckle down with her own studies as well."
I could hear the logic, but I was questioning everything. Just because Yale was my father's alma mater, did I really have to go there? It was only March, so there had to be time to take up an offer at U-Dub. Surely, one Juris Doctor degree was much the same as another.
"What happens if I don't go to Yale?"
"It's up to you, Edward, but my investment in you involves Yale. I'm not prepared to pay for some other second-rate degree."
Scrambling to find a way to argue, I tried to recall what I'd read about financial aid. "I could apply for a loan. Lots of people do."
"I think you'll find that door will close once you list your father's income."
That statement made my shoulders sag, knowing I was losing the fight. "So, I don't have a choice."
"I suggest you reread the information you've received from those other colleges, then I'm sure you'll have everything you need to make the correct decision."
In one day, I'd gone from feeling on top of the world to my absolute lowest. There was no way I would qualify for a loan, so if I really did want to do law at the University of Washington, then I would have to come up with three thousand dollars a year, and with the number of hours I'd have to put into my studies and assignments, it wasn't going to be possible.
I knew Bella would want to argue against the injustice of my plight, so I decided not to tell her that Dad had me over a financial barrel. I drove her home from school on a day when I felt strong enough to tell her without breaking down and coldly used Dad's words to explain why it was best for both of us if we broke up. I didn't expect her indifference when she got out without saying a word, took off my friendship ring, and left it on the seat. She didn't even slam the door.
Somehow, I was able to withstand the agony of watching James pursue Bella and take her to prom, because she seemed happy and he was our friend, someone we looked up to. Maybe he had always liked her, but he only made a move after I broke us up.
Now, it was two years later, and I was hearing her phone ring and wondering what she would say to me.
"Hello?"
Bam! The jolt to my heart was just like the first time I called when we were fifteen. We'd known each other all our lives, and I was suddenly so shy I could hardly speak.
"Hi, it's Edward."
"Hi," she replied in the silky voice that used to make my legs weak. "Are you home?"
"Yeah, we got in this afternoon."
"How was your trip?" I really liked thatshe didn't mention my release from prison.
"The best," I lied. If she'd been there with us, then it would have been.
"I have to talk to you, Edward."
I wanted to talk to her, too, and finally give her the whole story. After all this time, there was a chance that she might even forgive me.
"You and Emmett."
"Okay," I replied, disappointed it wasn't about us, but I had no right to expect anything from her.
"Can we take the tin can to La Push?"
It was a very specific request, only asked during times of trouble. A meeting in the tin at La Push heralded something significant.
"So this is a heavy discussion?"
"Very heavy."
"Tomorrow?" The answer would let me know just how heavy.
"Today if we can, Edward."
Extreme heaviness. "Should I come by and get you now?"
"Um …" The pause suggested I might have caught her off guard. "Yes, if you can. I need to get this off my chest."
Getting something off her chest sounded like it was meant for me, so why would Emmett be involved?
"Give me half an hour, Bella."
"I'm looking forward to seeing you, Edward."
"Me, too." She'd never know how much.
Shaved, shampooed, and scrubbed, I drove to the Swans' house as I'd done a hundred times in the past, and Bella was already waiting on the stairs of the porch, so I didn't have to speak to her mother. At first glance, she looked the same as her eighteen-year-old self, but when she stood and walked toward me, I could tell by the fit of her jeans and peasant blouse that she was not the same. The feathered haircut with its soft bangs looked so inviting that I wanted to touch it. Eighteen to twenty must have been the time when women blossomed because my gorgeous girl had emerged as an impossibly beautiful woman.
"Hey," I greeted her when she climbed in. Of course, we didn't hug, but the minutest hint of patchouli oil brought back powerful memories of having her in my arms.
Her eyes landed on my chest. "Wow! You've really beefed up since I last saw you!"
"Just wait until you see Emmett."
"Is he coming?" she asked.
"Nobody answered their phone, but he did say he needed to sleep."
I watched her shoulders drop in disappointment.
"Maybe it's better if I show you, and you decide what to do with the information."
My impatient self wanted her to show me right away, but in her mind, whatever this was needed to be revealed in a formal way at La Push, and I had to respect that. During the twenty-minute drive, the conversation was light. A cousin I'd met had been married, Charlie was still working crazy hours, and Renee had started yoga classes.
I talked about the trip up the coast and the places we stayed. She asked about Rosalie, and I told her she'd said she was sorry they'd drifted apart.
"So much regret," she said softly, staring at the endless trees, and then she sang along with "Walking in Rhythm." It reminded me of how much I used to love it when she'd sing to me.
"Rialto or Third?" I asked when we were nearing La Push.
"Rialto, I think."
It only took another couple of minutes to reach the parking lot, and I killed the engine, looking at the beach where I spent my childhood and most of my teenage years. Bella and I had our first kiss here, and it was where we used to come to make out.
"It's always been my favorite," she declared, and I wondered if she ever reminisced about us fondly.
"Mine, too."
We sat in silence for a while, watching the waves ebb and flow, and then she brought her little cloth bag around to her lap.
"So … this thing I have to show you … Dad says it won't change a thing, but I want you to see it, and you can decide if you want to show Emmett."
I knew my frown was deep, but I was totally intrigued. "What is it?"
Her hands were shaky as she unfolded an envelope she took from the bag. When she handed it to me, there was only one word written on it.
Bella.
"I only found it behind a chest of drawers when I was moving out. I don't know if he meant to hide it."
From her eyes, I didn't have to ask who the "he" was, and I suspected I was holding a suicide note.
"Are you sure you want me to read this?" I remembered her father said it wouldn't change anything.
She nodded, and I hesitated, then I manned up and took out the single sheet of paper.
"Dearest Bella,
To begin, I want you to know that I love you with all my heart and I'm so very sorry if my actions will cause you pain. I know you want to fix me, but there is nothing to fix. It's just that I'll never be him. It's always been him.
You will read this confession when I'm gone because I couldn't bear to see your eyes when you realize what I should have told you long ago. You see, I know the reasons why our two friends ended up in jail. Two reasons in fact, because I was let down twice on that day. Firstly, the package was supposed to be in my car. My contacts at the border performed just as they should have, so I cannot lay blame at their feet, but Edward didn't follow my implicit instructions and caused this himself. I made it clear that he had to stay with me, but he let himself fall too far back.
Still, all would have been well if the item had been placed where it was supposed to be. Edward was very close to being released to leave when that damn dog had to ruin everything. There is the other reason this happened. Edward had drawn attention to himself, hadn't he? So, of course, someone would come sniffing around."
Fury bubbled inside me, and I couldn't read another word. Getting out of the bus, I needed to breathe salt air instead of slamming my fist through the windshield. Bella followed me, saying she was sorry over and over until I couldn't bear it any longer.
"He's sick, Bella. He's twisted the truth to ease his guilt. We never deviated from his instructions, and he saw that fucking border agent demand that we move. The only thing we ever did wrong was putting our trust in that asshole."
"I know," she said calmly. She'd had time to digest this, but I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get over it.
"You know what the worst part of this is? Charlie is right because it changes nothing. It's not proof of anything, and all those people involved will have scuttled away by now. No matter what he says, we … got … caught with the drugs, and that's why I'm going to fight against these kinds of laws that fuck over innocent people like Emmett and me."
"How are you going to do that?" she asked with a frown.
"I'm part way to becoming a defense attorney, starting as a law clerk next week. I still have another year of study to complete my Juris Doctor, and then I have to convince my employer to back me when I do the bar exam."
"Wow," she said with eyes brimming. "Wow. I'm so proud of you. Where is the job?"
"Seattle."
Now she was smiling and shaking her head. "What a coincidence. That's where I'll be."
"I thought you moved back home."
"Only because I couldn't afford the apartment. I'm doing psychology after the break, changing my degree. There are so many people out there like James who need help."
"Well, I'm sorry if I don't share your generous spirit, Bella, but I'm going to have some hate in me for a while. I definitely don't want to share this with Emmett or anyone else."
"Okay," she accepted. "But it's good to go through hate for a period of time, if it's warranted. I've had some therapy, so I'm working through mine now, and if you ever want to talk, I'll be there for you."
"Thank you." Just hearing her gentle voice made me feel calmer. "There is something I want to talk to you about, too. I need you to know the real reason why I broke us up."
"You mean how Carlisle used extortion to control you? Emmett told me about it when it happened, so I was expecting it, just not so soon."
Hearing that made it seem worse, somehow. "I couldn't see a way out."
"But you've found one now," she stated, smiling.
"I guess you could say I paid for two years of law school by going to prison."
"That's the spirit, Edward."
She laughed. I laughed, and it was such a relief to know she never hated me. I opened up about Banner and how he inspired me, how Emmett's humor saved my sanity. Without going into graphic detail, I tried to paint an honest picture of the boredom, frustrations, and the need to keep to oneself in order to survive. She assured me that everyone in Forks believed we were innocent, and it surprised me how much their faith in us meant.
We kept talking until sunset, and then scrounged enough coins to call our parents to tell them not to wait up for us. I backed up the bus to face the ocean, and we unfolded the futon, lounging on the mattress with the back doors open so we could watch the surf. We mostly looked at each other, and it reminded me of when we were sixteen and discovering our sexuality. She played with my hair, knowing what it did to me, because she was the one who perfected that move, but tonight I was honestly happy simply to be with her and talk.
When I saw she was sleepy, I offered to take her home, but she just curled in next to me and told me to check out the sky. Forks had always given us incredible night skies, but I wasn't expecting to see the approaching dawn.
"Shall we?" she asked, taking off her blouse. "Are we swimming the sunrise?"
My grin couldn't have been bigger because I felt like I was sixteen again and madly in love, freely stripping down to my underwear and racing my girlfriend into the sea.
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