Forgotten Memories

Cheryl Williams

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Two summers had passed, and Adele had chosen to spend both of them in their special place. She had met Tom nineteen years ago while she was vacationing on the Outer banks of North Carolina. He was attending a conference, and they had met quite by accident in one of the local restaurants. He had been looking over the menu, and as a frequent customer, she could not resist telling him how wonderful the clam chowder was. He took her word for it, and as soon as he tasted it, he thanked her, inviting her to join him. So they sat there and talked over their chowder, getting to know one another. Thus began their friendship.

The rapport between them was instant. He was so easy to talk to, and when they both left the island that summer, they knew they would continue to be friends. For a year, they communicated through letters and occasionally by phone. And as time passed, their friendship grew into something more?something neither of them had either asked for or wanted.

As Adele stood on the shore and stared out at the ocean, she felt so small and so helpless.

How many times she and Tom had walked along this very spot, holding hands, talking about their hopes and dreams, listening to the laughter of nearby children building their castles made of sand. Now, just like those castles that washed out to sea, it seemed as if her hope of ever seeing Tom again had washed out to sea as well. She felt so forlorn, for it wasn?t like her to give up hope. Her hope is what had brought her to the island every summer for the past two years. Her hope is what had kept them meeting here for so long. But now that had all changed, and she felt lost in this place without him.

Not much else had changed over the years, for progress had somehow escaped the little island known as Ocracoke. Old Mr. Jenkins still had the best fish place in town. Molly Sanders still made her luscious baked goods. And the ocean was still the color of a turquoise gemstone as it washed upon sand so white it looked like snow in the sunlight. The little island was a fisherman's paradise, and there were boats aplenty. Scantily clad teenage girls were a common attraction on the island, as were those older folks with faces weathered by too much sun. It was funny seeing the contrast. But the girls continued to bake in search of the perfect tan, completely oblivious to the long term effects of worshiping the sun, and the old people would walk by and just shake their heads?for they knew the damage it was doing.

The only thing that had really changed over the years was the fact that everything and everyone was older. Even Adele's fiery red hair was streaked with a bit of gray, but she didn't care. She saw it as a badge of honor. She had earned every single one of her gray hairs. Her life had not been easy. But her relationship with Tom had smoothed away the rough edges. He had been her safe place to fall when things were hard. He always had a willing ear and a shoulder on which she could cry. And laugh?oh my, how they had laughed.

Adele didn't know a lot of the newcomers on the island, nor did she have any desire to get to know them. For the past two years, she came to the island at the same time, and would visit the same people. And she only had one question for them. "Have you seen him? Has he been here?" The old folks would just smile rather sadly and shake their heads. Then Adele would bravely smile as if to say, "It's okay" and she would go on her way, waiting and watching.

She stayed at the same little cabin they had rented every summer for fifteen years. It wasn't fancy. It was quaint and lovely, and had always been perfect for them. Not a lot had changed with the cabin either, other than the fact that it was a bit weathered with time. The same blue quilt was still on the bed, and she would smile as she looked at it, remembering.

The first time the idea had come to the two of them to meet on the island every summer, they both had been giddy with excitement. They felt as if they had loved each other for a lifetime, but they lived so far apart. Circumstances did not make their being together a possibility. That would involve hurting too many people that they cared about, but the other side of the coin was unthinkable. They could not end what they had. It was something they both had searched for their entire lives, and it was something some people are never blessed enough to find. And they were determined that even if they could only share two weeks every summer for the rest of their lives, that would be two weeks that would be worth every moment they were apart.

So they had agreed. Every summer, on the second Saturday in June, they would meet at the same cabin and spend a glorious two weeks together. At the time, they had no idea how they would manage to get away for so long, but their love and their hope drove them into believing in the possibility.

Their dream was realized a few months after they first conceived it. At first they were so nervous, so afraid something would go wrong. They had spent most of their time inside their cozy little cabin, afraid they would run into someone they knew. They had spent that first meeting with a sense of impending doom. But by the end of the two weeks, they saw that everything was going to be fine, and their fears had only been a waste of time.

For the next fourteen years after that, their two weeks had been filled with a bit of everything. They went boating, and played on the beach. They became favorite customers at several of the quaint shops and restaurants on the island. Nobody had ever asked if they were married. People seemed to know somehow that they weren't, probably because of the way they always acted like young lovers.

Those two weeks had become Adele's lifeline. No matter what else was going on in her life, she always had those two weeks with him to look forward to, and there were days that was all she had to look forward to. She knew that he felt the same, for they had talked about it so many times. There were times they had been tempted to leave their regular lives behind in order to be together, but they knew that in doing that, it would somehow cheapen what they had.

Sitting in the cabin alone, waiting, the memories flooded her mind. She could see him smiling at her in his teasing way, and she could hear his laughter ring throughout the cabin. She walked over and lay on the bed the two of them had shared so many times, and images of their lovemaking washed over her. She had never felt so secure and loved as she had in the moments when she was wrapped up in his arms. Tears ran down her face, and she whispered into the pillow, "Where are you?"

This was to be her third summer in the cabin without him. The first year that he did not show, her heart had dropped, for it wasn't like him to just not show up. She knew that something must be wrong. It was the only explanation. But she knew calling his home was not an option. That was one of the conditions of their relationship. Never would they involve each other's families...no matter what. So she had searched death records. There had been no record of him passing, and she had breathed a huge sigh of relief. She had called hospitals in his town, and found out nothing. If he had not been retired, she would surely have called his office. She checked the post office on the island to see if there was a letter from him, but there was nothing. She had refused to allow herself to get angry, for she knew deep down that something was wrong. Even if he had decided not to ever see her again, he would find a way to let her know.

The second year, she had returned to the cabin, knowing he probably wouldn't be there. But she needed to go anyway. She needed to relive their moments. Deep down, she knew how pathetic that would seem to anybody else. But it was a need that drove her, and there was always that shred of hope that the door would open and in he would walk with some wonderfully sound explanation to give her. She went to their favorite restaurants and shops alone. Everyone would ask her, "Where's the Mr?", and she would just smile sadly, and say she was alone this trip. She always wondered as well why they called him "the Mr.", for they knew good and well that the two of them were not married.

This year, the third year without him, would be her last. She knew deep down that she had to let go and move on, as painful as the prospect was. So she made the most of her moments. She retraced their times together. She walked on the beach, and went boating. She watched the sunset, and woke up for the early morning sunrise as she sipped her coffee. She lay on their bed, and thought of all that they had shared. She closed her eyes and dreamed of his touch. She cried.

And each morning, she would sit on the front porch of the little cabin and just wait, in case he came sauntering up the sidewalk, carrying a bouquet of flowers and an explanation for his absence. But he didn?t come.

On the day of her leaving, she planted a little tree in front of the cabin. For some reason, she wanted to leave something behind that was beautiful and strong, something that would grow and remain. It seemed like the proper thing to do. She tenderly dug the hole, and placed the little tree deep in the soil, where it could take root and grow. She watered it with loving care, and told the landlady to please look after it.

Then Adele packed up her things in the car, and drove away from Okrakoke Island, never looking back.

************

Thousands of miles away, a man named Tom sat in front of his window. It was a hot summer day, but breezy. He enjoyed sitting there, feeling the cool air on his face. For some reason, it made him think of the ocean. He closed his eyes, and tried hard to remember if he had ever been to the ocean. Surely he must have for the breeze to affect him in such a way. But it was pointless trying. Remembering was hard these days.

The nice lady who stayed with him was good at trying to help him remember. Lots of people came to visit him, but he remembered none of them. The lady told him that some of the people were their children and grandchildren. And then she would tell him that she was his wife. It made him feel sad he could not remember, but it also made him happy to know that so many people cared for him.

Sometimes, a picture of a lady would flash through his mind. The picture was so vivid, and he had no idea who she was, for she had never visited. He always saw her smiling, her red hair blowing in the breeze. Sometimes he could even hear her laughter and she would whisper his name. Perhaps she was his guardian angel or something. Perhaps she was just a dream...a very nice dream.