Fare Forward (4 page)

She had never spoken to me about that kind of love.

"Grandma Sophie, I'm only eleven."

"I know." She smiles.

I want to tell her that I don't want to go away, so far from this place, as the summer draws to a close. That I worry that she and my grandfather and the magic of Gloucester cease to exist when I am not here. But I fight back the tears, trying not to let my own selfish sadness ruin the last days of our summer together. She presses her arms into me tightly, as if she is transferring something into me: strength, courage, filling me for the future.

"Can't I stay here with you? Go to school with Emily and Lily? I don't ever want to lose you; I don't want to go back."

"You won't ever lose me, Gabriella, and you will have so much."

"How do you know?"

"It's time to go to sleep now." I notice the white light the moon makes on the ocean, like a path to infinity. "Good-bye, my beautiful child, may all your dreams come true."

I stop and look back at her and wait for her to speak, to correct her mistake, to say something—to realize.

"You mean
good night
right? Not good-bye."

"Yes, of course, good night."

She has always given me so much and tonight, I know, she is preparing me for everything ahead. Giving me her blessing as if she had to do it now, as if her words were not a mistake at all.

As if
I
was not the one who would run out of time.

I
LIE IN BED and stare at the ceiling. I try to listen to the sea, the rhythmic pounding of waves on the shore, but instead hear my grandmother's reluctant steps down the staircase. I imagine where she is as she carefully holds the banister and walks by framed pictures of the many years of play at this beach, documents of lives well lived. I hear the sounds the house makes along her path, through the main hallway and into the room where my grandfather always stands behind his desk. I go to sit at the top of the stairs and listen, finding comfort in the familiar voice of the architecture, out of sight where I can easily hear their conversation. I have done this many times before because, so often, they were talking about me.

"It's absurd, Sydney—this has really gone too far."

"Nonsense. We thought that this was the generation where it would be revealed."

"You are not an army for God!"

My grandfather laughs as he exhales slowly. The worn leather chair behind his desk creaks loudly as he spins away from her accusing voice.

"We are not going to discuss this again, Sophie. It is done."

"Sydney, for thousands of years the information has remained hidden. Concealed. Others before you understood and made that choice."

Silence.

"We have the proof . . . of the connection. Traditional science can no longer provide the answers that will satisfy those who—" My grandfather is cut off by my grandmother.

"This is not about science or even faith. It's all about money and fame and their own ideas about immortality. One alone.
One
would be motivation enough, but together they form an irresistible platform on which some of your colleagues' research rests. Einstein understood didn't he, Sydney? Darwin, Newton, and so many before."

"Sophie, Einstein believed simply that religion would be made more profound by science. Darwin offered evolution—no God, no moral code."

"Just what Hitler used to justify his actions."

"Do NOT say that name in this house!"

"It's true, though, isn't it? In his twisted logic, Hitler used the idea of evolution as justification for the 'master race.'"

"There are rules in the universe,
order,
despite what some have been able to do."

"Order? And rules, Sydney? Enforced by whom?"

"I don't have the answer."

"Tell me, why is he back now?"

"Benjamin?"

"Yes, there must be a reason—it's not about Gabriella is it?"

"We made a deal, Sophie. He promised me. If I agreed to keep my proof secret, he would stay away from her, from Gabriella that is. He would allow her to live her life in this world without his intrusions."

"Don't be absurd, Sydney! He can make no such promise. No one person can stand against the force of fate and the inevitable. If, in fact, they are meant to be together then it will be as it must."

Were they speaking about
me?

"We learned the same thing fifty years ago, didn't we?"

I can feel the space between them and close my eyes to soak in the momentary tenderness of her voice. I remembered the story of how they met on a magical night in Jerusalem so many years before.

"It's too dangerous, Sophie. You of all people know better than anyone. We have control, we can choose! Change our fate."

"I was with her before, on the roof. She
knows,
Sydney. She is becoming aware that she has the gift. Things are happening to her, and she wants explanations. She clearly possesses the abilities—and she's the only one I've seen it in. She has been born into this family for a reason. I am convinced of it. It is as Benjamin said."

I strain to hear everything they are saying. I want to run away but am too afraid to miss any of the shocking information.

"It does not have to be this way!" The rage in my grandfather's voice frightens me.

"What has happened to you, Sydney? You've changed, lost your belief. Your desire to pursue the truth at any cost. You've become like the others. Accepting the rules imposed by those who came before, who are guided by fear and uncertainty. That was never you."

"This is so much bigger than just us, than simply what I might want. You see—"

"You're a
scientist!"
My grandmother yells, interrupting. "You've devoted your life to uncovering the mysteries of this world and everything in it. If you've found the connection, the link through the barrier of this world to beyond, then—"

"I have always aligned myself with the ones who did not believe, who needed irrefutable proof of the existence of something other than what we can touch and see and feel. The search for something beyond this life has never been considered scientific, yet we now have the ability to prove that it is. You see, Sophie, it's all so clear. The answer has been in front of us all along. Doggedly pursued by those who claim that nothing else matters. Nothing but discovering the Truth. Their god is science."

"You were always one of them."

"Ironic isn't it," he laughs.

"When will you decide, Sydney?"

"Perhaps it's simply enough to know. To finally have the proof that there is so much more beyond this world."

"That's the question you've been trying to answer your whole life." My grandmother's voice is low.

"This
is the world we live in and must protect," he says.

"And what about Gabriella?"

The sound of my name sends chills down my spine.

"She will be kept safe, Sophie. I have seen to it."

A
ND THEN, A FEW days later, I know my childhood is over.

The terrifying and powerful ability I have to see things before they happen, shows me. I see the unthinkable: that I would lose one of the few relationships that filled the dark, quiet spaces of my life.

I can't understand where the beginning will be in this ending.

The summer is drawing to a close, and Lily, Emily, and I run along the dusk-lit streets, holding hands. My feet hurt, wounded by the new shoes I had insisted were comfortable enough for our last summer adventure together before I need to go back, so far away. I hoped their shining promise would bring the same qualities to my new beginning. Fall, cold and fresh, was ready to wipe away the heat of summer with opportunity and change.

We are almost home, the last light of day casts a deep orange fire across the beach. We kick through the leaves, breathless and laughing, as we race to see which of us would reach our imaginary finish lines first. We have our new books, sharpened pencils, and paper waiting to be filled. Our days' treasures from the hunt, placed safely in bags that swing around our small frames.

Endless possibilities lie ahead.

My perceptions shift when the sounds of our laughter become low echoes in my head, thoughts with sonorous vibrations. It feels as if we are moving in slow motion. Slow, slower. Sound and action twist together, backward, forward, flashing before my eyes. It is that feeling, the one I don't understand, but this time it is a terrifying realization of impending doom. I can feel my body electrify, an immeasurable amount of energy with no place for discharge. The droning sound gets louder—thunderous, deafening, painful—and I reach up to hold my hands on either side of my head. I try desperately to stop it, what I see happening to Lily.

Just at the moment the last of the day's light slips away and darkness envelopes us, two beams of light come around the corner and shine directly on our moving frames, freezing Lily's beautiful smile in an expression of abandon and joy.

It is too fast.

Screeching tires, lights, wind, speed, and combustion as time and energy merge and explode into our space on the sidewalk. I try to scream but I trip and fall to the ground.

"NO! Lily! No!"

Does she hear me? Did she hear it too? I pull myself up and turn to look at her, but she is twirling in a dance move we had learned earlier that week. Emily is hunched over, laughing. I try to cry out as the reality of what is about to occur flashes before my eyes. Sometimes vague or unclear, this time I understand the impending horror with perfect clarity as my ability to see into the future tortures me with a vision I don't want but cannot control.

"NO!!!!!" I scream as I turn around and see the car.

It rounds the corner too quickly. It loses control.

I lunge for Lily's beautiful frame as she jumps up to reach a tree's red limb, hair dancing around her head, smiling and unafraid. Right before the car crushes her body, our eyes meet. In the unspoken exchange is an acceptance as she realizes it is too late to escape, and I helplessly submit to the finality of our last childhood moment together.

T
HE PATH TO THE beach never changes.

The timeless beauty of this place slows my heartbeat and steadies my breathing. I feel calm, energized as my feet push through the deep sand. The sea air fills my lungs and paints circles around my face as it catches my hair in a swirling dance. The wind speaks to me, silent echoes of recognition.

You are not alone, Gabriella. I am with you.

I hear my grandmother's words, the ones she whispered into my heart. It is always like this, the connection to her. On this beach path that I have traveled so many times, the sea and wind meet me with open arms, acknowledging my return, a union of flesh and limbs, breath, wind, sand and sea.

"Yes," I breathe softly.

The grasses bow in a rhythmic wave of greeting as the water shimmers from the early-morning light.

Winking.

This beach was my summer. It held so many memories of time with Emily and Lily, my grandparents, and the beautiful town of Gloucester. I remembered the many nights we spent as children lying on the beach together looking up at the dark sky, counting the shooting stars and tracing their momentary arc. I knew their life continued well beyond our line of sight. It made me think about what we can see and feel and touch—and what we cannot. What comes before and what comes after, our endless search for answers and the drive to explore and understand everything.

The beach, the house, and my family history were an open book, waiting for us to discover the many mysteries they contained.

"Wow, look at this one, Gabriella!"

I remembered clearly the day Emily had held up a small yellowed photograph in a tarnished silver frame of a distinguished looking couple leaning against a ship's railing. They smiled into the camera with a fierce pride and independence.

"Emily,
please,
put that down," I had begged her. "We're not supposed to touch things in her studio."

I hadn't wanted to cross the line into my grandmother's private world. There was so much that I couldn't understand, the many treasured objects that I knew had been carried across the barren landscape of Eastern Europe, things that contained the vibrations of a lost world. Evidence of a life of struggle and oppression from which my family had emerged. Yet, these were the adventures of our summers in Gloucester, and we took our charge to uncover the secrets around us very seriously. Detectives we were— determined to understand it all.

The powerful memories flood my mind.

"You are welcome, children, to explore whatever you want when you are here. I have no secrets from you." My grandmother had swept into the room and saw Emily holding the photograph. She seemed pleased with our inquiry. "You like that picture? That was taken in 1943. Such an incredible time, the beginning of everything for me."

She had walked over and picked it up, smiling at a private memory as she closed her eyes.

"Who are they?" Emily's impatience broke the silence.

She turned and faced the three of us, knowing how much we loved her stories.

"Those people are Gabriella's
great
grandparents." She placed the frame back down on the windowsill. "My parents. They were traveling on a ship with Albert Einstein, on their way back from Japan. It was very exciting you know. He won a very special award. The
Nobel
Prize."

She emphasized the word Nobel, and I thought I was the only other one in the room who knew what it meant.

"My Papa is going to get one too." I directed the comment at my friends who immediately nodded in agreement.

My grandmother laughed and said, "I don't know about that, sweetheart."

"Where was the picture taken?" Lily asked.

"At the Port of Haifa, in Israel. Well, it was called Palestine in those days. That was how people traveled, on big beautiful steamships. It took a long time to go places."

"Isn't Haifa near where you live during the year, Gabriella? Near
Zzzfat
or however you say it?" Emily exaggerated the word.