She's Gone: A Novel (33 page)

There was a sprinkling of applause. A line had formed on the side of the podium. The first speaker, a middle-aged white man, adjusted the microphone and began speaking.

“There are now 3.7 billion people in the world. We are at risk of global starvation. The U.S. must set an example and produce more food. We need to reduce our population growth to zero or negative zero.”

Jolie looked at the woman sitting next to her and caught her eye. They both raised their eyebrows quizzically. Negative zero? What did that mean?

“The U.S. needs to add a tax for babies,” the man continued.

How many kids did he have?

The next speaker promoted an anti-nuclear platform. “The spread of nuclear weapons around the world is apocalyptic in the hands of unstable leaders. Nuclear testing and the resulting radioactive fallout is harming the lives of humans and our ecosystems. Nuclear power plants are in our backyards. Nuclear waste is contaminating our deserts and water supplies. The waste lasts thousands of years. We must eliminate nuclear weapons and nuclear power.”

Applause started with a ripple and then thundered in the hall. Score one for the anti-nuclear movement. Jolie jotted a note in her journal.

An older woman stepped up to the microphone, cleared her throat, and began. “DDT is in women’s breast milk. Mercury is in fish. Dioxin in our food. Lead is poisoning our children. Our rain is acid. The air we breathe is polluted. Our lakes, rivers, and oceans are contaminated with toxic dumping from manufacturing, acid mining, urban runoff, and ships dumping at sea. We even haul our garbage out to sea and dump it! This all must stop. We must regulate chemicals and toxins and require corporations to clean up the mess they have created.”

Applause thundered. Another winner.

Another middle-aged white man got up and talked about whales being run over in the shipping lanes in the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Someone else spoke of global warming, greenhouse gases, clear-cutting forests, sea levels rising. Another man spoke of invasive species, endangered species, and extinct species.

The leader of the meeting narrowed the concerns into three groups: anti-nuclear, chemical pollution, and land preservation/conservation. Why hadn’t anyone spoken of offshore oil drilling and catastrophic oil spills? She should have gotten up and talked about the devastation she’d seen firsthand, but she was too shy to speak in front of all these people. Someday she would.

When the meeting ended, Jolie walked to the front of the room where the leaders of each group stood by sign-up sheets. At the chemical pollution sheet, she wrote her name and phone number. The leader was a Harvard biology Ph.D. candidate, and he’d already set the first meeting date for the same room.

She bounced down Massachusetts Avenue toward the T station, happy with a new cause to embrace for the future of the earth. The streets were jammed on the holiday weekend. A half a block from the T, she heard Old Blue. The low rumble from the hole in the muffler was unmistakable. The bus drove past her on the street and she leapt and waved. A young woman was in the passenger seat. Her long blonde hair, parted in the middle, framed a doll-like face. She looked right at Jolie, and they locked eyes for a brief moment. Will looked straight ahead, his eyes on the road. He hadn’t seen her on the crowded street. A sinking feeling filled her.

Jolie stood still and watched Old Blue disappear in the distance. Heat rose through her. Her head hummed and her heart pounded. Who was that woman in their bus? Her bus.

She walked to the T and down the steps. On the packed subway, she sat back and clutched her purse and camera. Her brain was paralyzed. It was like she was being held under water. The woman was probably just a volunteer. There were lots of them. They came and went. She glanced up at the station map. Should she get off at the office or go home? She had only a moment to decide. The subway car slowed for the next stop. People rushed for the door.

She stayed seated, feeling too emotional to interact with the group at the office right now, much less Will. She walked into the empty house, poured a glass of mint iced tea, and went out to read in the cool shade of the back porch.

She was lost in
The Teachings of Don Juan
when the front door opened, and Will called to her.

“Out here,” she said.

Will came out on the porch followed by his entourage, Charlie, Adam, and the girl passenger in Old Blue. Adam plunked down a six-pack of beer. Will introduced the girl as Lily.

“You drove by me today in Harvard Square,” Jolie said.

“I didn’t see you,” Will said. Lily and Jolie stared at each other. Jolie perceived a challenge from a rival in her eyes.

They pulled up chairs and sat down. Will sat closest to Jolie and looked at her book. “
Don Juan
? If you’re searching for spirituality, you won’t find it there.”

“It’s interesting. I think I was an Indian maiden in another life,” Jolie said. “I feel like I have a genetic memory of it or something.”

“A genetic memory?” Charlie asked.

Adam and Lily burst out laughing. “I heard he made half that shit up,” Adam said.

Charlie silently reached his hand toward Jolie, and she handed him the book.

The heat of humiliation rose to her face. “It’s his metaphysical journey and view of the world,” she said.

Adam smiled at her as he opened a beer. “Well, when lizards can talk and people can fly, you let me know, Jolie girl.”

41

If You Could Read My Mind

On Labor Day, Will, Charlie, Adam, and Jolie piled into Old Blue and drove to Commonwealth Avenue for the march. It was overcast and muggy. The small but growing crowd consisted of students and blue-collar workers. Union members gathered under signs with their affiliated union numbers.

A few men put the finishing touches on a hastily erected plywood stage. A group near the stage waved to Will, and he strode over to them. Jolie stood with Adam and Charlie, snapping photographs. She used her telephoto lens to snap a photograph of the men by the stage. Lily came into view, standing close to Will, hanging on his every word. Her long blonde hair shone despite the sunless day.

“What’s the story with Lily?” Jolie asked Charlie.

“She just showed up one day to volunteer,” Charlie said.

“She follows Will around like a puppy,” Adam said. “I wish she’d follow me around.”

Jolie stiffened and watched as Will and Lily walked to where they stood.

Charlie whispered into Jolie’s ear. “She’s an airhead.”

“Well, well, look who’s here,” Adam said to Lily.

“Hi guys,” Lily said.

Charlie looked around at the crowd. “You girls are sure outnumbered here.”

“That’s the way we like it,” Lily said.

“I don’t know. I love being around all of my sisters. There’s power there,” Jolie said.

She looked at Will who returned her gaze. “Yeah, and you spend too much time with them. Let’s move to the front of the crowd. You can get better photos of the speakers.”

Jolie stood between Will and Charlie. Adam and Lily were squeezed off to the side next to a group of Union members. The speaker tried to get the crowd’s attention, but even with the microphone he was drowned out. Adam whistled loudly, and the crowd grew quiet. The speaker introduced himself as the president of the Socialist Labor Party for greater Boston.

“We must wage an anti-capitalist political offensive.” He paused while the applause and whistling died down. “Billions of dollars of our taxes are poured into the Vietnam war machine while vital social needs in this country remain criminally neglected by the imperialist government.” Whoops and applause erupted from the small crowd. “We must control and use the wealth, created by the workers, in the interest of the oppressed workers.”

Jolie took a photo of the crowd cheering and waving their signs in the air.

Will took to the stage and was handed the microphone. “We must unite and revolt. In our struggle for power, the party requires enormous sacrifice from our members. We demand unconditional loyalty and revolutionary firmness of character.” More applause and whistling erupted. “We demand you give the party one hundred percent. All party units and individual members must comply with the directives of the National Political Committee.”

Jolie leaned in to Charlie and whispered, “Sounds like a cult to me.”

He suppressed a laugh.

She glanced around at the crowd. The Women’s Strike had attracted ten times more participants than this. Her mind wandered to Leah and Sarah on Cape Cod, and Sam and Ginger in Nantucket. She imagined swimming in the ocean.

“We must attract all students and workers to create a dominant Socialist Labor Party in the U.S.,” Will continued.

After the speech, about five hundred participants straggled down Commonwealth Avenue marching to Charlesgate. Jolie photographed a marcher and his sign
,
Working Class: Mightiest Force in the Land. Lily positioned herself next to Will as they marched. Her arm looped through his. The familiar jealous pang spread from Jolie’s stomach to her head. She recalled the monk’s words: “Happiness is in your control. Where you focus your thoughts is in your control.” She needed to focus her thoughts on the positive. The solidarity of the marchers, their intensity, and their socialist vision. Her mind drifted to her new Save the Earth forum, but the pang remained. Why could she control her thoughts but not her feelings? She needed to grow up, that’s all.

42

The Emerald Necklace

“We missed you,” Leah said, swooping in to sit on a stool at Jolie’s bay. She handed Jolie a bag of saltwater taffy from Cape Cod. Between customers, Leah filled her in on the trip to the Cape. It was hard to talk, but Leah wasn’t in any hurry. She nibbled on a grilled cheese sandwich and sipped a raspberry lime rickey.

“Let’s hike through the Emerald Necklace parks next Sunday,” Jolie said.

“Ask Daniel if he wants to join us,” Leah said.

“Are you love struck?”

Leah smiled. “Safety in numbers, that’s all. Is Will coming?”

“I’ll check tonight. Probably not. I’m going to invite Nick, too.” First she had to get up her nerve to call him. “What about Sarah?”

“She’s going to New York. It’s the last weekend before school starts. Her mom is taking her shopping.”

“Like she needs more clothes,” Jolie said.

“Don’t you like shopping with your mom?”

Jolie nodded. She did, especially in the fall. There was something about new clothes, textbooks and the start of school that was exhilarating.

That night, Jolie cooked dinner for Will and Daniel, and they ate in the dining room.

“What did you do? All of the girls in my classes are wearing those crazy headbands,” Daniel said.

Jolie smiled at the thought.

“I got a telex message this afternoon,” Will said. “Timothy Leary escaped from prison in California.”

“How do you escape from prison?” Jolie asked.

“I think the Weather Underground had something to do with it. I’m trying to verify the rumor.”

“Nixon said he’s the most dangerous man in America,” Daniel said.

“Nixon is the dangerous one. He’s got our soldiers blood on his hands. Leary was in prison for possession of the remains of two joints,” Will said, shaking his head.

They talked more about Timothy Leary and moved on to other subjects.

“Leah and I are going to hike the Emerald Necklace this Sunday. It’s seven miles,” Jolie said. “Do you guys want to come?”

“You know I have a standing meeting with the professor on Sundays,” Will said.

“Invite him too. You can talk along the way. I’m bringing a picnic.”

“We’re working on the party platform.”

The party platform. She was disappointed, but she knew there was no way she’d change his mind if that was his agenda for the day.

“I’m in,” Daniel said.

“Good,” Will said. “Now you girls will have a bodyguard.”

The next morning after Will went to the office, Jolie rushed to the temple for yoga before work. The class was small with four women and two men and the yogi. They sat cross-legged on their mats with eyes closed, hands resting on their knees, palms up.

“Breathe in the light. Open up your heart. Draw your shoulders down away from your ears and bring your shoulder blades toward your back,” the yogi said. “Breathe out and soften your body. Imagine you are holding all of the world’s sorrow in your left palm, and all of the world’s joy in your right palm. Breathe in the light and open your heart. Breathe out and soften. Let go of the sorrow.”

Could the yogi feel her sorrow? Let it go, let it go, let it go. She relaxed and a bright light filled her heart. The yogi led them through yoga sequences. “In yoga, there are two opposing lines of energy. Always engage them. It’s like yin and yang.”

When the class was over, she floated to her feet. Jolie and her three yoga friends walked out together. At the entrance, Jolie took a flyer with the schedule of classes and put it in her purse. They stood talking outside for a while in the peaceful outer sanctuary of the temple before hugging goodbye and heading their separate ways for another week.

Jolie started her shift, invigorated after yoga. She smoothed her crisp white apron and collected the tips into a separate cup for the waitress who had just finished her shift. The woman who came in to relive her from her shift was not as honest and never left her anything, but that would be her karma.

She looked up as a new customer sat down at the end of the bay. She walked over with a coffee pot and order pad, her long braid swished across her back. “Coffee?” Her mind was on the color photography chakra project she wanted to start.

“I’ve been gone all summer and that’s the greeting I get? Coffee?” the young man said, smiling up at her.

“Nick!” Heat rose to her face. He was back. “Sorry, my mind was somewhere else. You look different somehow.”

His brown eyes held her gaze. “I had to cut my hair for the internship and yes, I’ll have coffee, please.”

Nick sat drinking coffee, conversing sporadically between Jolie’s customers’ demands. The bay was full now with the lunch crowd, and it was impossible to talk. He got up to leave and confirmed he’d see her at noon on Sunday for the Emerald Necklace hike. He was off to buy his books for the next semester. By his coffee cup he’d left her a tip and a black-and- white postcard from the Museum of Fine Arts for the upcoming
Ansel Adams
photography exhibit. She smiled and tucked it away under the counter next to her tip jar.

Sunday morning, Jolie packed bagel sandwiches and baked two batches of brownies, some for the hike and some for the office. She kissed Will goodbye as he left and handed him the plate of warm brownies. A moment later she heard Old Blue thunder down the street. She waited to meditate until after he left the house, tired of his negative comments about wasting her time.

She emerged later dressed in bell bottom jeans, beaded moccasins, and a vintage, blue silk blouse. She adjusted her black beret and tied the tails of her blouse in a knot at her waist.

Daniel was in the kitchen, finishing a brownie, ready to go.

Jolie grabbed her camera, and Daniel took the backpack. They got off the subway at the Public Garden and waited for Nick and Leah at the entrance. Daniel set the backpack on the grass.

“Guard that with your life. There’s something special in it,” Jolie said.

“Oh, I will,” he said, with a giggle.

Jolie glanced at him. He was in a good mood, as always.

Leah arrived, looking like an angel in a white blouse and Indian love beads. Her curly dark hair fell softly to her shoulders. She and Jolie hugged. Daniel moved in for a hug with Leah that seemed to last more than a greeting. Leah faced Jolie, and she raised her eyebrows and smiled.

Nick arrived, and Jolie introduced them. Daniel grasped his hand and shook it heartily. She hadn’t seen Daniel this friendly and relaxed before. It must be Leah.

Nick gave Jolie a hug. “Going French today?” he said.

She smiled and touched her beret. He noticed the smallest things.

Jolie pulled out a map from her pocket and unfolded it. “Here’s our route.” They hovered around her as she traced the green parkway of the Emerald Necklace through nine parks, ending at Franklin Park. “We’ll stop and eat lunch at Jamaica Pond.”

“If we make it that far,” Daniel said.

They glanced at Daniel. “No man, it’s do or die. We’re following Olmstead’s vision,” Nick said.

“Who’s Olmstead?” Leah asked, as they started walking twelve blocks down a grand avenue away from the Public Garden.

“Frederick Olmstead is the creative genius who designed this park system a hundred years ago,” Nick said. “He was a visionary.”

“Connecting man and nature,” Daniel said absently.

They walked to the Boylston Bridge and looked out over the Fens. Jolie took a picture of the panorama.

They veered off onto a path and into the public vegetable garden. The stench of manure filled the air. Gardeners weeded and harvested vegetables in communal plots.

“Look at all of that food. I’m getting hungry,” Daniel said. “Let’s have a brownie.”

Leah walked near Jolie and whispered, “He sure is enjoying himself.”

“Let’s go sit by the Japanese bell,” Jolie said.

They walked past the rose garden, a mass of blooms. A heavy rose scent filled the air. Near the bell they sat down on a bench.

“Now, can I have a brownie?” Daniel asked.

Jolie brought out the brownies. “I made these from the Alice B. Toklas recipe. They’re not for the faint of heart.” She pulled out the wrapped bag. It had already been opened.

“Alice who?” Leah asked.

“Really? I’ll have one,” Nick said.

Jolie looked at Daniel. She remembered him eating a brownie in the kitchen before they left, but assumed it was from the other batch. She started laughing.

“Ahh, no wonder I feel so fine,” Daniel said, with a wide-eyed look.

“What’s so funny?” Leah said.

“Daniel’s way ahead of us.” She took one and passed them around. “There’s pot in these. Have one. The Emerald Necklace will take on a whole new feeling.”

Leah took one and looked at Daniel who seemed to be enjoying himself. She bit into it. They sat munching brownies, savoring the chewy chocolate bites, looking at the three hundred year old Japanese temple bell. It was a gift from Japan, a gesture of world peace.

With arms linked four across, they continued on the trail through the Fens to the Riverway. At the bridge Jolie and Leah broke away and skipped over, hand in hand, laughing. Daniel and Nick caught up with them and they walked the Riverway path into Olmstead Park.

They walked through the wildflower meadow to Ward’s Pond and stood by the banks in their own small wilderness. Jolie spread a faded Madras bedspread on the ground. They sat down one by one and lay on their backs, looking up at the swaying trees.

“You can hear them,” Jolie said.

“Hear who?” Leah said.

“We need another brownie,” Nick said.

“Yes, we do,” Leah said.

Jolie looked at Daniel and fell into a fit of giggles pointing to the backpack.

Daniel passed out more brownies, and they sat up, chewing slowly, staring out at the pond.

“What are you photographing?” Nick asked.

“Green algae, pure green.”

“Wow,” Leah said.

Along the trail to Jamaica Pond, they stopped at a picnic table. Jolie and Leah spread out the bedspread as a table cloth. Leah took out the cut-up fruit she’d brought, and Jolie got out the bagel, cream cheese, and avocado sandwiches and laid them on napkins.

“What is that green stuff?” Leah asked, looking at the wiggly green things spilling out of the bagels.

“Bean sprouts,” Jolie said.

“Bean sprouts? I’ve never heard of them. I’ve never had an avocado either,” Leah said.

Leah didn’t move, still staring at the sprouts.

“I’ve never had sprouts either,” Nick said, “but here goes.” He took a bite of the sandwich. They could hear the sprouts crunch with each chew. Jolie and Daniel took a bite. Eventually Leah picked one up and took a tiny bite. “Yum, these are divine,” she said, closing her eyes. “It tastes like California.”

After lunch they continued along the path through the Arnold Arboretum. They passed through meadows, ponds, and a small forest. Daniel and Leah walked hand in hand in front of Jolie and Nick. Nick put his arm around Jolie. He squeezed her close to his body. A small tremble ran through her, and her knees weakened in a rush of warmth. What she had been trying to push away from her thoughts all summer became clear now. She did feel for Nick. She leaned into him to steady herself. This wouldn’t have happened if Will had come along.

Will. Guilt descended, but she shook it off. She and Nick were only friends. He released his arm.

They stopped at the medicinal herb garden used for research. Jolie crushed some leaves between her fingers and a spicy aroma wafted in the air. “Don Juan’s shaman would love it here.”

“Who?” asked Leah.

“An Indian healer,” Jolie said.

Leah looked puzzled.

“I’ll lend you the book.”

They walked on through Franklin Park to the end of the Emerald Necklace at the edge of Roxbury. They all lingered, reluctant to end the day.

“Is anybody hungry?” Daniel asked.

“Famished,” Nick said.

Leah laughed. “I could eat a whale.”

“Let’s go find Dimitri and his restaurant,” Jolie said.

They emerged from the subway in the Back Bay neighborhood and walked along Newbury Street until they stood before a towering blue-and-white sign above a blue awning: The Greek.

Daniel held the door open, and they entered. It was cool, dark, and noisy. They adjusted their eyes to the dim light. The tables were full of families talking loudly. Glasses and silverware clinked. Through the food service window, Jolie glimpsed Dimitri and waved. He squinted at them and then with enormous hand gestures and speaking in Greek, he called out something to the hostess. She nodded and escorted them back into a private room. Photographs of Greece covered the dark, wood-paneled walls. The table was set with a white linen tablecloth. Blue cloth napkins swaddled the silverware. Dimitri came in and greeted them.

“You brought your friend,” Dimitri gestured to Nick. His eyes smiled at Jolie.

“All of my friends.” Jolie introduced him to Nick and Daniel.

Dimitri smiled brightly at Jolie and Leah. “You look hungry.”

“We’re starving,” Leah said.

“You’ll be my guests today.”

“No, no,” Jolie said. “We want to pay.”

Dimitri shook his head, offended, and said something in Greek. Nick responded in Greek, and a rapid-fire dialogue ensued. The hostess brought in a bread basket and tray with three types of olives. Dimitri hurried back to the kitchen. “Well, that’s settled,” Nick said.