Nan Rossiter - The Gin and Chowder Club

After his father’s unexpected visit, Asa had kept his promise. He had spoken with the dean, apologized again, and expressed his desire to continue his studies. He had resumed his running regiment, spent long nights catching up on missed assignments, and, in spite of himself, even made a few friends. But he forbade himself from thinking about Noelle. The memories still came, unbidden, and washed over him with the force of a riptide, but Asa slowly learned to push them back and think of other things.

That morning, however, his mind was clear, and he pushed himself to run farther and farther. He headed for the bridge and over into Vermont, then followed the river and the long winding stretch of farmland. He ran along a quiet country road and watched a blond-haired boy attaching a plow to an old John Deere tractor. A dog barked and the boy looked up. Asa waved and the boy waved back.

When he returned to campus, Asa stretched in front of the student center. Beads of perspiration trickled down along his hairline while he waited for the building to open. When it did, he went in, looked through the glass window of his mailbox, and immediately recognized the familiar pale stationery. He slipped the envelope out and ran his hand over the elegant handwriting. A bead of moisture fell onto the ink and created a blue puddle. Asa walked slowly back to his room, pulled a dusty shoe box from under his bed, lifted off the top, dropped the letter onto a pile of unopened envelopes, replaced the top, and pushed the box back under the bed. Then he reached for his towel.

The sky was cobalt blue, with feathery wisps of white floating by, when Noelle drove out to the Cape on that June morning. Nate had planned to open up the house over Memorial Day weekend, but he had been too busy with work, so the following week, Noelle decided to go out to the Cape alone. She pulled slowly up the driveway and admired the freshly painted siding. She pictured Asa sitting on the ladder, his tattered Red Sox hat turned backward. Oh, how she missed him. She knew that coming back here would remind her of Asa, but that was the reason she had come-she wanted to remember.

She unlocked the front door and pushed it open. She felt the baby move and supported the bottom of her belly with her hand. The house had been closed up since Christmas, and it smelled of must and ashes. She opened the blinds and windows as she made her way through the rooms. There were no blinds in the kitchen, though, and the summer sun filled it with light. Noelle reached over the sink to push the window up. As she turned the latch, she felt a sharp pain deep in her belly. She winced and caught her breath and then bent over in agony. She made her way slowly out to the porch to sit down. Maybe Nate was right - maybe I shouldn’t have come alone. She struggled to uncover a chair, eased into it, and tried to take slow, deep breaths. The pain finally subsided, and she promised herself that she would take it easy.

Leaning back in the chair, she looked at the doorway into the kitchen and pictured Asa standing there. She closed her eyes and smelled the summer rain and the scent of his body. She put her hands over her swollen belly and ran her fingers around in slow, rhythmic circles. The baby responded by pushing one foot out and creating a small lump in the roundness. Noelle listened to the distant waves, breathed in the ocean air, and was filled with contentment.

She dozed off but woke with a start when she heard a cardinal calling. Easing herself from the chair, she pushed open the screen door and stepped out into the yard to see if she could spot him. She glanced at the empty feeder and wondered if there was any seed left in the barrel. She made a mental note to buy some when she went to the store later. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of scarlet. Noelle looked up as a male cardinal flew to a branch above her head. Just as suddenly, though, her eyes were drawn away from him. There was something out of place-something was hanging from one of the lower branches. Oh, no! She stared in disbelief and moved closer, trying to grasp the sadness of what she saw.

A piece of thin string was tangled around a limb, and hanging upside down from the other end was a motionless female cardinal, the string tangled around her leg. How did this happen? How had she become so completely ensnared? Had she been attracted to the string for her nest? The image of the poor bird’s struggle played through her mind, and she imagined her frantic efforts to free herself. Oh, how she must have tried to escape - how she must have suffered! Tears filled Noelle’s eyes while the male cardinal continued to call, fluttering from limb to limb and cocking his head to look at Noelle. It was almost as if he were asking her to help his lifelong mate. “Oh, God,” she cried out. “How did this happen? Where were you when she was trying to free herself? Why weren’t you watching?” Hot, angry tears spilled down her cheeks.

Noelle hurried into the house and found the items she would need. With scissors, she cut the string from the branch and gently laid the tawny red bird on the grass. In her grief, it didn’t occur to her to simply cut the string away; instead, she immediately became intent on untying it. Painstakingly, and with tears in her eyes, she worked away at the merciless knot until it finally yielded to her efforts and the little bird’s lifeless body was free. Noelle placed the cardinal on a soft towel in a shoe box and gently stroked her beautiful feathers. Then she found a shady spot beneath the lilac bush and dug a small hole. The whole time she worked, the male cardinal perched at the top of a lilac bloom and watched, still calling and cocking his head.

When she had covered up the hole, Noelle sat on the grass and, through a blur of tears, looked up at the brokenhearted mate and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

The Bourne Bridge loomed majestically ahead. Asa looked out over the canal and remembered the anticipation he had felt when he had crossed the bridge last September; he recalled how the evening sun had cast its rosy light across the treetops, and he shook his head. So much had happened since then.

Samuel glanced over. “Have you ever seen such a blue sky?”

Asa smiled. He rolled down his window and breathed in the ocean air.

“I appreciate the ride, Dad,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind if I don’t hang around.” He paused. He didn’t want to linger any longer than was necessary, he didn’t want to remember. “It’s a long drive, you know,” he said, adding, “I hope the truck starts.” After Asa had presented a respectable report card, he had convinced his parents that he would need his truck if he was going to stay in New Hampshire for the summer. Even though the Howe Library was right on West Wheelock Street and he could walk to his new job there, he wanted to have the truck so he could explore the countryside and get away. He had bought a used backpack, and he planned to hike in the White Mountains, maybe even hike part of the Appalachian Trail.

When they reached the house, Asa climbed out and walked around to where he had left the truck. It was dusty and covered with leaves, but it sputtered to life on the second try, and while it was warming up, he walked around back to see where his parents had buried Martha. He knelt down and pulled away some weeds from the fresh earth and ran his hand over the large smooth stone marker that his father had found along the water’s edge. The air was fragrant with the heady sweet smell of lilacs, and tears welled up in Asa’s eyes. “Hello, ole girl,” he whispered.

Samuel came up behind him and laid his hand on Asa’s shoulder. “She was a good pal, and she definitely loved you best. She knew she had to keep her eye on you. In fact, without her, you might not even be here.” Asa smiled, nodding through his tears, and remembered the frightening riptide that had swept him away from shore when he was a boy. Martha had barked frantically before jumping in and swimming out to him. Asa had clung to her, and she had instinctively swam with the current, bringing him safely back to shore.