The exit from the new four-lane blacktop I wanted appeared. My mind refocused from its twenty year journey down memory lane. The new highway had shaved better than an hour off the trip I remembered to the small town. I hadn't been this way since Tante Kit's funeral, but the small town hadn't changed much. Yes, there were some new industrial buildings on the outskirts, but the downtown looked largely the same. I found the new motel easily enough, and as Tante Pie had said, the new funeral home was directly across the street. I didn't know which came first, but whoever dreamed up the idea of a motel near a funeral home was brilliant. Out-of-town family members would be more likely to attend a funeral if they knew there was clean, affordable accommodation nearby. Funerals become better attended and the motel has a year-round income because people don't just die in tourist season.
I checked into the motel office and found Bob had been as good as his word. My room was already booked and prepaid. The concierge regretted to inform me the rest of my party was delayed by a late flight from Calgary. I was just as glad -- I didn't want to meet Carol and her father in the motel lobby. I wanted to see the aunts first and prepare myself a little for what could become a major confrontation. I got my room key and settled in. I'd lived out of very similar motels when I was with Northern, so I wasn't long hanging my suit in the closet and setting the air conditioner to the right temperature.
I called Diane and let her know I had arrived safely, over an hour ahead of schedule thanks to the new highway. Diane asked if I'd seen her yet and I told her the concierge had advised me their flight was delayed. That meant Dolly's casket would be delayed as well. I wouldn't see Carol until later at the funeral home. I asked Diane how she was doing. She said she and the kids were going over to Heather's for supper. Heather said to say 'Hi!' to her sister. Diane wanted to know what that was all about. I said I'd explain it when I got home.
I called the aunts. Tante Jo answered this time and gave me directions to their home. I recognized the location from the times I'd been to this town many years before. She told me Bob Sr. and Carol were delayed and I said I knew, the guy on the desk told me the rest of my party would be late. I said I'd be over in a little while, as soon as I freshened up from the drive. We hung up and I took a few minutes to wash the travel out of my eyes and changed into clothing more suitable for the occasion than my blue jeans and flannel shirt.
I walked in the late afternoon September sun to the aunts' house. It was, as Tante Pie had said, only about a block away. I was there in just a few minutes. They must have been watching for me, because the door opened as soon as I stepped onto the walk. I didn't think they'd recognize me; I was older, heavier, and sported a full beard, but the aunts called me by name and invited me into their home. They said they recognized my erect walk, a carry over from those happier times when cadets was the key to my future. We exchanged hugs and they sat me down at the kitchen table. I took the time to give them a good once over.
Now in their early sixties, the aunts still showed some of the beauty of their youth. I noticed care lines that weren't there twenty years before, and Pie seemed to have a deep sadness about her. I remembered her reaction to Kit's death, and thought I understood the sadness.
The aunts were always perfect hostesses, and offered me a drink. I refused the alcohol and opted for a coffee, saying I hadn't quit drinking completely, but now only took it in moderation. We were soon gabbing away as if the years had not passed at all. We started to reminisce about the times at the cottage, and that's when we got down to 'brass tacks' as they say. The memories of the cottage themselves were some of the happiest of my entire life, but they also recalled the worst. We caught up on more current events and I learned Oma and Opa had passed away within days of each other some ten years before. I think Bob may have told me, but I'm not sure.
They brought me up to date as best they could, a little more current than Bob's sketchy information. Riekie was doing very well, but was closing up the practice she shared with her husband Rick. Her twins were beautiful little girls that looked like her and showed no resemblance to him at all. Apparently they didn't call him Daddy, but by his name, Rick. It was unusual, but I knew of other children like that, too. My own cousin referred to his father as 'Art' from the time he could speak. The aunts showed me a picture from last Christmas of the most darling little girls imaginable. I'm a sucker for kids, and I was instantly smitten with Riekie's twins. They had their mother's hair and eyes, and looked into the camera with an intelligence that seemed beyond their years.
Tante Jo laughed and said, "If I didn't know better, I'd say they were your kids from the way they look and behave."
"Well, Tante Jo, they have a beautiful mother to get their looks from, and she is a good person to raise a family."
Iain was working in Silicon Valley, and doing extremely well, but was always busy. They showed me a recent picture of him. He looked like Art Garfunkel.
Sandy had indeed followed his early calling to the North, and was living in Tuktayuktuk, NWT (Now Nunavut.). He was working with some arctic research company, but spent most of his time working with the Inuit and helping them develop their plan toward eventual self government for the Territories. Apparently he spoke their language as if born to it. Inu is an extremely difficult language to learn, with many words for the same thing. I heard once they had over a hundred separate words for one common substance — snow.
The aunts told me a bit about Carol and her husband, Ben. I knew he was in the construction business and from an old conversation with Bob, understood they were doing quite well. Apparently that was then and this was now. Ben's partner had been skimming off funds and the business was going through a tough period financially, causing them some personal financial problems as well. Ben's health, never very good to start with, apparently, had started to deteriorate. If they knew what his problem actually was, they didn't say. To add insult to injury, Ben was unable to father children, which I knew would be a tough blow for Carol, as I knew she wanted children desperately. It was a constant theme while we were together. I had hoped to be the one to give her those children, but it wasn't to be.
We were recalling the meeting Opa had called when the three of us announced our multiple marriage. I recalled Pie's hint at a lost love of her own. I teased her some, saying.
"Isn't it about time I learned the whole story?"
Pie got serious, and a faraway look in her eyes.
"Yes, I guess we can tell our story now. The one most likely to be hurt by it coming out cannot be hurt any more."
She paused to wipe a tear and Jo pulled in close to give her support. I'd always suspected there was more to these women than met the eye. She began. I didn't interrupt her once until near the end. The story she told would break your heart.
"Many years ago, when Jo and I were somewhat younger than you were when we met you, we fell in love with a wonderful young man. You always reminded us of him. Even today as a grown man, you have certain of those qualities still.
"I fell in love with the boy first, then Jo. Like Riekie was to you and Carol Anne, she was our constant companion and we learned to love her as well. My young man and I were deeply in love, and like Carol Anne later, I decided to give him the ultimate gift, but not as a birthday present. We all knew the ancient rite of the knot. Oma was a priestess of the Goddess and had taught us all the Old Ways, but had not taken one of us as her apprentice."
Confirmation of old suspicions and even belief, I just raised an eyebrow slightly. This was no bombshell to me.
"My young man and I tied the knot and then consummated our marriage. Unlike Carol, I got pregnant on our first night, but I didn't realize it right away. As I said, Jo had fallen in love with both of us, but was slower in coming forth about it than Riekie was. By the time she declared her love, I knew I was with child, and was terrified. Yes, we were married under the Old Ways, but still, I was frightened of what the local people would say.
"My young man was as in love with Jo as he was with me, but I was selfish and wouldn't share our bed, even though we did all the same things as you, and had married her too. My young man didn't know I was pregnant with his child. He wanted to take Jo to our bed, but I wouldn't hear of it because I was already pregnant, and didn't want Jo to be, too. I was young, but she was younger still. I was also jealous of my man, even though I knew his love for me was as strong as ever despite his love for Joanna. It seemed like a demon got into me and in a fit of rage, I drove him from us. He became totally distraught, and left our home. We never heard from him again except a post card from Canada saying he had emigrated.
"I had alienated Jo too, but as my baby grew and my belly with it, we became close again, and stayed together, reaffirming our love for each other and our lost lover. Our parents took my child and raised her as their own. You see, David, Kit was my daughter, not my sister. She became the new third leg to our tripod and we were able to stay together."
No wonder she had been so distraught at the funeral.
"Oma and Opa raised her as their own and she showed great promise as a witch. Oma taught her all the Old Ways. We never told her she was my daughter, but she knew she was very special to me and my sister-wife, Joanna. Yes, my sister-wife. As I said, before our man left us, we were all three married as you three were and Jo and I kept our part of it going. Jo and I re-affirmed our knot and we're still married.
"We never told Kit I was her real mother, but some how she must have deduced it on her own. Kit wasn't killed instantly in the crash and was taken to hospital. Jo and I were with her at the end, holding her in our arms. The night she died, just before she passed away, she opened her eyes and said, 'I love you Mama.'
"Jo was there, weren't you Dear? And heard it too."
Both women wept as she told me the tale, and Jo nodded. I was a little choked up myself.
"Now, it is just the two of us left of a once great love. With Kit gone, our tripod cannot stand much longer. Jo and I have but one wish: before we die, we would like to see and hold our young man once more and tell him about the daughter he never knew. He would have loved her. If I hadn't driven him away, she might be alive now. But we have no idea where to look for him, and we are getting older now. We heard once he lived not far from your town, but that was a rumour over twenty years ago."
I did interrupt at this point.
"What is this man's name? Maybe I can help you find him."
"Paul... Paul Koorstis. My young lover and our husband was our brother Paul."
Oh the tangled webs we weave! I thought I'd be totally shocked, but I wasn't. I realized I had suspected this all along from the little hints they had given over the years. Dad before me had suspected as much on even less evidence than I had. I realized that I had also somewhere along the line learned his almost mystical ability to infer the correct conclusion from seemingly disjointed bits of information — the mysteriously missing brother; the unusual closeness of Pie and Jo, sisters but more than sisters; the special bond between Pie and Kit, and a host of other bits and pieces.
"Pie, if I may drop the 'Tante', I swear to you and before the Goddess, if at all possible, I will help you find your young man and return him to you."
"David, why would you do this almost impossible thing for us?"
"Because you had and have faith in me to do the right thing. Because you helped me twenty years ago. It's no fault of yours that marriage, too ended in discord and acrimony. You and your family did your best to help us, now it's my turn to return the favour.
"Now I must ask another difficult question. What is the problem between your family and Bob Sr.?"
The women examined their fingers very closely. Jo started to speak then looked to Pie, who nodded.
"The issue with that man is related to what Pie just told you about Kit and Paul. That man (never by his name) was
dating Dolly while the Canadian troops were still in Holland. He cut a dashing figure in his uniform, so tall and handsome! But he was, is, a cad at heart. He found out that Kit was daughter to one of us, and tricked us into revealing which, by having us believe he could find Paul for us. To us at the time, if a Canadian told a Dutch person he could turn water into wine, we would have believed him. Canadians had died in their thousands to free our country from the Nazi monster.
"Paul was gone. I had never been with a man. That man gave me hope I could finally be with Paul, but after appearing to be so kind and caring and wanting to help us find Paul, that man used the information he got against us and forced me to have sex with him to keep him quiet. This was before we came to Canada. We were sure if Kit's true parents were known we would not have been allowed in. We know now that probably would not have happened, but he used it to force me. He used me not once, but many times. How I didn't get pregnant with his bastard, I'll never know. The worst he did was to take that which rightfully belonged to Paul, my wedding gift.
"Dolly heard he might be seeing another girl in our village, but as far as I know never learned it was me. She confronted him about his infidelity and he denied it. Because of Dolly's suspicions, he stopped raping me before Dolly learned the truth, but not before he damaged my soul. He seems to take delight in hurting people emotionally. I was a very long time recovering, but Pie and our parents were there for me and we had Kit. When Your Girls were born, they became us, and we tried to undo the past through them. We almost did it, but I think that man was busy again. Carol Anne carries too great a wound to have ever been caused by you."
So! My enemy had destroyed another innocent life, or tried to, but her family had proved stronger and saved her soul if not her physical body. I began to look forward to our meeting, but I would need an opening. To just go and pick a fight was not the way. It could backfire hugely. I would have to be alert for any opening I could exploit. Exposing and destroying this evil had now become a personal jihad.
After they shared their stories, the aunts were very quiet, but being the resilient people they were, we were soon talking about other things. I regaled them with stories of the kids and how we'd just found out about Diane's past. I didn't give them the gory details, but they got the idea, and especially that she was now on the road to recovery from her tormented past. I let it slip that Mom thought I'd found another one of Hers. Pie jumped on that.
"David, earlier, you never batted an eye when I mentioned Oma was a priestess of the Goddess as if it was something you not only knew, but heard every day; then you swore an oath to us by the Goddess, and now you say your mother says your wife is 'another of Hers'. Who is your mother, and who are these others of hers you have found? How is it that you know so much about the Old Ways, when that summer we gave you and Your Girls only enough to wed?"
"I'm sorry, I thought you knew. I thought Riekie at least would have told you something when she came to live with you.
"My mother is a priestess of the Goddess now, but when My Girls and I were first married, she would best be described as an acolyte. When we came home from the cottage that summer, I made a remark to my dad that made him think and it became obvious that we had to tell them about us. We needed a support base closer to home than your family could offer, so we took the chance. I knew nothing of Mom's Wiccan past; we were just counting on them being naturally open and understanding people, who if they didn't actually approve, would be supportive nonetheless.
"That Labour Day Weekend, we called our own meeting with them, and told them. When we mentioned the rite we used, Dad instantly figured out what we'd done almost as if he'd been present, and Mom went white as a sheet. But within seconds she had recovered with two words 'the Goddess.' Mom had drifted from her faith, but our marriage re-affirmed it for her and they gave us their full approval and support. Our revelation to them of our marriage put Mom back on her path to becoming a Priestess.
"Mom has some Sight, and she picked up that the girls were Princesses of the Goddess, whatever that means. From what he deduced — my dad has a remarkable gift that I seem to have acquired — Dad concluded not only the how and why of our marriage, but the background. I have known since then about your family and its Wiccan connection to the Old Ways. We suspected about Kit, but never had confirmation until now. That is another reason why, after today, I will make it a Holy Quest to find Paul for you.
"That Christmas Eve, I gave the girls their wedding rings and Mom performed the rite properly, giving us the blessing of the Goddess. Thus we were married for a third time. Whenever we were in that house, the three of us were totally married, with all the rights and responsibilities that entailed. Mom and Dad gave us a portion of the house to use as our own. Until July 1966, we were a family within the larger one. Those were some of the best times I ever had.
"After we broke up, rather than give up on her faith as many would in adversity, Mom declared it was her duty as part of getting us back together, to find another coven and complete her training. She's a very powerful priestess now."
Pie was impressed. I hadn't told her everything, but enough.
"I often thought there was more to you than even you knew. Oma always thought Old Blood ran in your veins. Now I understand. Riekie told us little. When she came to us, she was completely heartbroken, and would not tell us anything except it was over among you. She cried herself to sleep every night the first while, but then became immersed in her school work and we only heard her occasionally after that, usually whenever she got a letter from you.
"Whenever she was with you the year you all went to college, she put on a brave face and acted normally, but when you weren't around, she was almost as bad as Carol Anne, hiding in her room. We heard her cry herself to sleep many, many nights then, especially after you left Ryerson and returned home. Carol cried too, but I think she was beyond tears mostly when she came to us. After Carol returned to Winnipeg, Riekie was distraught until school work prevailed again.
"She stayed with us even over Christmas most years. She was often very sad on Christmas Eve. Now I understand why.
"David, those girls were totally devastated by your parting even two years later and beyond. What terrible thing happened?"
Poor Riekie! I never knew how hard she took it. With Carol basically in a permanent state of mental collapse, and from being up close to that, I hadn't focused on her enough. She was so strong when we met in 1968, I didn't guess, but I did remember the deep hurt in her eyes too. My resolve to expose and destroy the pervert who had done this to us, hardened.
"I can't tell you just yet. There may be an opportunity this weekend to address some of these issues, even after all this time. If that opportunity doesn't appear, and nothing happens, then you must ask them yourselves. I can't violate what I feel is entrusted information. Not yet, anyway. I think there is a chance here to, if not right some old wrongs, at least expose them. Will you trust me on this?"
The ladies both agreed to let things develop as they would. We might have said more, but were interrupted by the doorbell. Jo went to answer it and came back with a person I hadn't seen in years. She'd put on a few pounds, but was still very pretty — Carol's old friend Joanne.
The aunts greeted her like she was almost a regular, so I inferred she and Carol were friends again.
With Joanne's arrival, the conversation became more mundane. She hadn't been involved in the momentous events in our lives, and to me, could not be trusted with that type of information. Even after all these years, her violation of our trust and subsequent refusal to accept responsibility for her own actions had alienated her from us. Still, obviously I had been right about Carol and her getting back together some day. How deep their current friendship was I had no idea, but it was obviously enough that Joanne would drive several hours to attend the funeral of her friend's mother. I respected her for that at least.
Because I arrived earlier than expected, our conversation had become more involved and detailed than I expected, killing a large chunk of time. We had covered ground I had expected to take the entire weekend. By the time we finished greeting Joanne and catching up on her small talk, it was almost time to go to the funeral home but we hadn't heard from Carol and Bob Sr. if they had arrived.
As if in answer to that question, the phone rang. Pie answered it, and from the way she spoke, it was apparent it was Bob Sr. She was polite and civil, but also very formal, giving nothing away. She didn't tell him I was there already, but in answer to his query simply said she expected I'd be along in plenty of time. When she got off the phone, I could see she was holding it in. After the stories they'd told earlier, old wounds had been opened and then to actually have to speak to 'that man' was almost more than she could bear. I was glad it wasn't Jo who had to talk to him.
In reply to our unspoken questions, Pie informed us that Bob Sr. and Carol had arrived with their sad cargo. Dolly's casket was being set up in the funeral home chapel, and they had gone to the hotel to freshen up and change before the official viewing started at seven. Even now we had just enough time to walk over for the six-forty-five time the funeral director wanted the family to arrive. I didn't want to make a grand entrance, and also Pie had told Bob Sr. she expected I'd be there in lots of time. I let the aunts and Joanne go ahead, and came in a few seconds behind them. Carol and her father were already there. Carol didn't see me come in as she visited with the aunts and Joanne. It gave me a little time to check her out.
Carol was dressed conservatively, as would be expected for a funeral, but her clothing was a little too severe, definitely 'dressing down'. Her hair was the same lovely shade of brown I recalled with the red highlights. It looked like she might have let it grow out because she wore it up in a severe bun. The overall effect was to give her a matronly look which made her look older than her thirty six years (My God! Was she that old already? She was the same age as me, so what did I expect?). Her attempt to make herself look older and nondescript could not hide her classic beauty from my eyes, though. Most others would have missed it, but not me. I knew that face too well, for it had hardly changed. Nor had she gained any weight, like most women her age. The only jewelry I could see was a slim bracelet that I recognized. After twenty years, she still wore it, and I noticed her wedding ring still firmly in place on the third finger of her left hand next to a nice solitaire diamond and conventional wedding ring. Her turtle neck sweater hid any necklaces or chains.
I looked at her eyes as she kibitzed with her aunts and friend. They were tired and sad as befitted someone who had lost a loved one and spent the day traveling, but there was something else there -- the old deadness, dullness of her shame and guilt. She smiled now, but it didn't have the shine it used to. She could laugh again but the happy ring was gone. There was an overall dullness that demanded to be washed away.
If all went well this weekend, she would at last be released from the source of her pain. She would still have to deal with twenty years of it. You don't forget that easily. Soon I would put some real, truly genuine emotion back in those eyes, even if it was the feral glow of anger and revenge. Anything would be better than the twenty years of anguish and despair I saw there.
I didn't expect or intend what happened next. I did put some genuine emotion in those eyes, or drew it back, whatever. At least it was there. I stepped up to say hello. She didn't recognize me at first because of the full beard. She looked closer, expression questioning 'who?', and our eyes met and held!
Twenty years ago, those eyes had met and held mine in a mind and soul blasting gaze on the front porch of the old house. Twenty years ago, a bolt of white hot pure energy flashed between us and joined our souls forever. Twenty years later, that same bolt of pure energy struck again, with more force than ever, not just joining, but welding, fusing the very fabric of our beings permanently together. In the blink of an eye, twenty years disappeared, and I was that fifteen-year old kid again, standing on the front step of their house lost in the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen
The world stopped. Time stopped. For a small slice of eternity, I looked into those beautiful blue eyes and forfeited my soul for all eternity. And I KNEW that I had just re-affirmed ownership of hers. In her eyes I recognized the old love and it burned more intensely than ever.
I felt something inside me burst. It was like the rusty lock on a cupboard door holding in something I'd hidden away too long finally gave way. That door then blew open, never to be closed again, lock and hinges destroyed by the force of the explosive release. All the love I'd suppressed for so long came blasting out in one magnificent, brilliant, blinding burst of energy. I saw her stagger under the impact of it and I felt that same explosion of love blasting from her to me. When it hit me, I almost collapsed under the assault of twenty years of pent up love and tenderness.
And she SMILED! Not that mechanical smile I'd seen eighteen years ago, not the dull mirthless smile I'd seen as she kibitzed with Joanne just now, but a real honest-to-god-genuine-filled-with-joy smile!!! And a breathless, incredulous "David!" as if she'd finally awakened from a twenty year slumber and seen my face. In a way, she had been Sleeping Beauty, and I was the Prince who woke her. And I replied, "Carol Anne!" Some moments are pure magic, and this was one of the most magical in my life.
I don't know why or how we restrained ourselves from a fierce embrace and kiss that would have left us gasping, but we did. Her hands came up and I took them in mine. The touch was electric. I swear sparks danced across our fingers as we held hands and locked our gaze for a few seconds longer. The charge finally spent and her hands were just warm and soft, gripping mine tenderly, sending a clear message.
The moment passed and then the veil of dullness and old pain dropped back into place, but under all the dullness and pain was a hint of old joy remembered and new joy kindled. I knew to get it all out, I might have to actually physically kill the person who until now I'd only meant to kill and destroy metaphorically.
That person was standing close beside her, shoulders touching, almost possessively, staring at us. He had seen and recognized what had just happened. When I was able to break my gaze from Carol, I locked eyes with him. His eyes were cold, filled first with hatred then smug arrogance, but he saw his own gruesome death in mine, and the arrogance was replaced with fear. The gauntlet thrown down twenty one years ago was taken back up in my stare. He knew this time he would not slink off the victor and would be lucky to literally leave this town under his own power. I had re-staked my claim and this time I would hunt down the jumper. He moved a pace away from Carol and broke his physical contact with her from the power of my stare. Carol seemed to straighten and stand a little taller at the lost contact. I acknowledged him with a nod, nor offering to shake his hand. I feared his touch would contaminate the purity of that I'd just shared with Carol Anne.
I don't know if anyone else saw the brief exchange between Carol and me or between Bob Sr. and me. The room seemed abnormally quiet, but that may have just been my heightened awareness.
I don't like funerals at the best of times, and this was most certainly not 'the best of times' despite what had just passed between Carol and me. I collected my wits and paid my respects to Dolly. The casket was open, and I did the obligatory thing of spending a few minutes looking at the corpse. I don't understand why people, especially those little old ladies, make such a fuss about the makeup job the mortician does. The poor souls are dead already, but they try to make them look alive? Anyway, I was looking at Dolly, trying not to look too uncomfortable, when I saw someone had placed her moonstone pendant on her. I was touched. I was sure My Girls or the aunts, but most likely the girls had something to do with it.
Once I'd been greeted, and performed my social obligation to the deceased, I took my place in the receiving line as a 'son' and 'brother'. As Carol's husband, this was my rightful place, not just that of a proxy. I stood to Carol's left and she quietly slipped her arm through mine as we waited for the visitors to arrive.
The wake was a quiet affair. There weren't many visitors. Dolly hadn't been that well known in this small town. Her parents before her, and now her sisters, had made a few friends, and they stopped in to say their condolences to the family. A few of the visitors hung about and visited, some of the aunts' neighbour ladies and the preacher who would say the service. Bob Sr. was at his most gracious and charming, causing the ladies to titter and fuss. He was still a striking looking man if you didn't look too close and saw the serpent in his eyes.
The wake was supposed to last from seven until eight. There were no more visitors after seven-thirty so the aunts decided to leave Dolly to her rest and took the living home to share food and drink. We left the funeral home for the short walk to the aunts' house in the warm evening air as a group. Bob Sr. tried to linger with Carol, but Joanne linked arms with him and gaily propelled him to the front, chattering like a magpie. The neighbour ladies and the preacher followed behind, then the aunts. Carol and I brought up the rear.
I felt a warm hand gently entwine its fingers with mine, just like a night in a movie theatre twenty years ago, and like that night, we strolled easily, comfortably holding hands. The only thing lacking to complete the picture was Riekie, and with that thought came the realization that much as Carol and I had just rekindled our old flame, possibly even brighter, we would not be complete unless or until that pretty blonde head was with us. Still, the aunts walking casually in front of us helped to complete the illusion. They glanced back a couple times to check on us, saw us holding hands and smiled warmly. It was good to see their care-worn faces smile like that again.
As we neared the house, Carol and I reluctantly separated our hands, moved a little apart and entered the house with all the propriety of two old friends being overly polite with each other.