Eureka

 from Like a Flower in the Field

 

A full moon hung over the Trinity River Valley in Northern California. It made for a beautiful drive—the moonlight on the water, the gentle slope of the canyon lined with pines, the river like a rippling white ribbon. Ward glanced up from the winding road, determined to print the scene in his mind. He’d never seen a picture so perfect. He figured he’d be in Eureka around 10:00 p.m., get a room there and take a long, hot soak in the tub and then a shower. After camping for five days on the Trinity, a hot bath and a warm bed seemed like heaven.

            He had left Jimmy in Junction City at Pat’s place. Jimmy would be heading home tomorrow, back to Redding and down through the long valley to Vallejo. They had fished the Trinity hard, from Weaverville to Junction City, with nothing to show for it this year. Nineteen seventy-three was not a banner year for salmon. That didn’t matter. October on the Trinity was reward enough: the clear, cold mornings out on the water, the afternoon temperatures climbing into the eighties, the air so fresh you could taste it, and then hanging out at the bar Pat owned where cold beer and conversation flowed like the river itself. The fishing didn’t matter.

This was his last trip with Jimmy, Karyn’s father. That’s what mattered. Karyn was moving on and there was no way to change that. She was in love, and you can’t fight love. You can’t say don’t love him, love me. It doesn’t work that way. It was good of Jimmy to plan the trip, their last hoorah so to speak. They had fished the Trinity for salmon every fall for a half-dozen years and this trip was a nice nod to tradition. Jimmy was a good man, damn good, and he’d been a great father-in-law. For the five days they were together, he’d never mentioned Karyn, never asked about the break-up. Ward was grateful. He didn’t want to talk about it.

Ward made it to Eureka on schedule and found a room at a motel on West Fifth Street. After the hot soak and shower, he felt like a new man. He was ready to find a friendly tavern and throw back a cold beer or two. The attendant at the front desk directed him to a place a couple of blocks over, an easy walk from the motel. 

 The night air was cool, fog beginning to roll in across Humboldt Bay, when Ward reached the bar situated on a corner. He was about to cross the street when a car came tearing down the hill from his right and lurched to a stop at the curb. A girl with short blonde hair leaned out of the passenger side window, laughing and shouting. The driver, a woman who looked to be a little older, jumped out of the car and helped the blonde out of the front seat. Together they stormed through the door of the bar.

Ward wasn’t looking for excitement. He thought about turning around and heading back to his room. Finally, he crossed the street and went inside. There were a handful of customers at the bar and in booths along the wall. A small dance floor took up the back of the room, a jukebox off to one side. He took a stool and waited.

The bartender was busy with the two recent arrivals, especially the blonde girl. She was talking loud, laughing, poking fun at him, and he was giving it right back to her. It seemed they knew each other. She stood on her stool and leaned across the bar, showing generous cleavage from a scoop-neck knit top, and demanded a kiss from the barkeep. He grabbed a breast in each hand and planted a kiss on her lips, all the while squeezing the ripe little peaches. The blonde girl found this hilarious. What strange world had Ward stumbled into?

The bartender broke away and came toward him. “Hey, buddy! What can I get you?”

“Whatever you have on tap. Hey, what’s with the wild child over there?”

“Oh, don’t worry about her.” He smiled. “Her sister is keepin’ an eye on her.”

So that was it: little sister, big sister. Ward nursed his beer and tried to relax. He noticed the girl glancing his way every now and then. After a couple of rounds, she was starting to look pretty good. She was a little plump, spilling over her jeans at the waist, but she had a pleasant face and large, expressive eyes. It really was a nice face. You’d have to say pretty if you were being fair. She smiled at him once when their eyes met and she had a nice smile, too. Another couple of beers and she would look like a young Shirley Jones. The Partridge Family theme played in his head.

Ward took some change and wandered over to the jukebox. It was a good playlist and he dropped in a few quarters and started to punch in his picks. And then the girl was standing next to him, bumping elbows.

“Why don’tcha play ‘Earth Angel’? I love that song.”

“Sure.” He punched in the letter-number combination, wondering at the choice, a song from the mid-fifties. “Anything else?”

They scanned the columns and made a few more selections. She was very young. Was she old enough to be in this place? He got a strong whiff of cologne, mixed with the alcohol on her breath, and he recognized the scent: it was Karyn’s favorite. What was it called? Emerald, or Emeraude, something like that. This girl had bathed in it.

“I’m Ward, by the way.” He waited for her to respond. “And you are?”

“Umm, I’m Jane. Call me Jane.”

“Jane Doe?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Can I buy you and your friend a drink?”

“Sure.” She led the way over to the bar. “This here’s my sister. What’d you say your name was?”

“Ward.”

“This here’s Ward. He’s gonna buy us a drink.”

Big sister gave Ward a critical glance and then nodded. She had no name she wanted to share. She was drinking club soda. Jane ordered a 7-and-7. They sat through several rounds and chatted about nothing in particular. Big Sister kept her eyes straight ahead, chain smoking and sipping her soda. She had nothing to say. “Earth Angel” came on the jukebox again.

“Oh, come on, let’s dance.” Jane grabbed Ward’s arm. “I love this song.”

They slow-danced to “Earth Angel,” and then to two more ballads. By the third song, Jane was wrapped around him and Ward couldn’t help but be aroused. He knew she could feel it but she didn’t pull away. He was lightheaded from all the beer. Or was it the cologne? As the music ended, she reached up to him, her lips parted, and he kissed her long and deep. When she stepped back, there were tears in her eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.”

“Come on, I thought we were having a good time.”

“It’s not you, Ned—”

“Ward.”

“Ward…sorry. I’m thinking about my old man, my boyfriend. He’s doin’ six months in county. I really miss him.”

“Sorry to hear that.” He started to ask six months for what? but he didn’t want to know. “Come on, let’s have another drink. Maybe you’ll feel better.” He led her back to the bar and ordered another round.

“I really feel bad, ya know? I miss him. He’s not a bad guy. He was always good to me.”

“Well, maybe he’ll get out early, good behavior or something.” Ward glanced at Big Sister who gave him a look that said Yeah, sure.

“But I feel bad, ’cause while he’s been in there, I chippied on him. I chippied on him a lot.”

Ward thought he knew what “chippied” meant, but he wasn’t sure and he didn’t want to ask. It was time to take a trip to the men’s room and splash a little water in his face. He excused himself and made his way down the narrow hall past the dance floor.

As he washed his hands, he noticed the condom vending machine mounted on the wall. He thought about the kiss on the dance floor and imagined taking that warm young body to his bed. He dried his hands, dropped in the required coins and stuffed the foil packets into the pocket of his jeans.

When he returned to the bar, Jane was gone. Big Sis was there, chain smoking and fixing him with a steady gaze. She turned on her stool to face him.

“Watch yourself, Ward.” Her voice was calm and cool, but she pronounced his name like an exclamation point. She was about Ward’s age—mid-thirties—and though her hair was dark, the resemblance to her sister was clear.

“What?”

“You heard me. Watch yourself. She’s just a kid, a kid with problems. The last thing she needs is a one-night stand with a jerk like you.”

“Look, I don’t know what you think—”

“You think it’s going to be easy, a sure thing. Right, Ward? You’ll just say, ‘Hubba hubba, baby. Let’s go back to my place. I’ll show you a real good time.’”

“No, I mean, come on…” He glanced around as though looking for help. He could not look her in the eye.

“And what’s your story, Ward? Divorced? Separated? Yeah, I noticed the little tan line on your ring finger.”

He covered his left hand with his right.

“And now you think you’re God’s gift to wayward girls?” She punctuated the question with a wry smile.

“Look, Big Sister…sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“My name doesn’t matter, Ward. Let’s just say I’m your conscience, here to make sure you do the right thing.”

“Which is?”

“Leave now, while she’s still in the lady’s room. Go back to wherever you’re staying, watch some porn, whack off, do whatever it is that you do. And leave my sister alone.” She let it sink in for a few seconds. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell her you said goodbye, good luck, best wishes. All that crap.”

There was nothing more to say. He’d been busted and he was no match for this woman. He got up off the stool, dropped a few dollars on the bar, and headed for the door, away from this strange encounter in Eureka.

 

Ward checked out early the next morning. He popped the tailgate and tossed his bag into the back of the compact wagon. As he stuffed his dirty clothes in among the camping gear, he saw the shirt he’d been wearing the night before. He picked it up and brought it to his nose. It smelled of cigarettes and cologne. He paused to play back the events at the bar and felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Big Sister, God bless her, had been right.

Ward sniffed the shirt again, then closed his eyes, and just for a moment Karyn was there. She had not been with him all week on the Trinity, but now she was. He started to say her name, but his throat tightened. He’d lost her, and now he was out here on his own, acting the fool.

He wadded the shirt into a tight ball and threw it—hard—into the back of the car. His shout became a howl, echoing through the parking lot and down Fifth Street until the air was gone from his lungs.

It was time to move on, time to forget, and that scent carried memories.

 _____