Confluence - 9. The Fourth of July

The sun had sunk below the horizon and the light was dimming quickly as Dr. Layne arrived at the Falls. He scanned the shore but saw no sign of Owen. He sat on a boulder and checked his watch.

He heard a splash and then a soft “Win!” Looking at the pool at the base of the falls, he saw Owen’s head bobbing in the water, hair plastered down.

“Come in!” Owen called quietly.

“Isn’t it cold?”

“Nah, it’s not cold.”

Layne looked around, saw and heard no one, undressed, folded his clothes, left them on the rock, and dove in. Gasping from the shock, Layne said, “You said it wasn’t cold.”

“It isn’t,” Owen grinned. “It’s freezing!”

Layne lunged at him and pushed his head underwater. When Owen came spluttering up, Layne said, “You, sir, will pay for this.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. Now that I’m holding you, I can’t think.”

Owen pecked him on the lips, then kissed him deeper. “I don’t know if I can give this up.”

“You’re about to be a married man. That’s bound to put a damper on things.”

“Let’s go right under the falls.”

“As long as we don’t get swept away.”

Finding shallows, they stood under a curtain of water and held each other. Layne no longer felt cold.

Later, as they lay on the shore naked, drying in the still-warm air, Owen said, “I still don’t know how all this works.”

“Men and women have a whole set of rules laid out for them, Polliwog. For this there are no rules. We have to make it up as we go along.”

“Aren’t there men who do both? Men who are married and still have a dear friend?”

“Is that something that you and Ellie would agree on? Or would you simply not tell her?”

“I don’t see how I could tell her.”

Layne ran a finger along Owen’s arm. “Deception isn’t very nice, Paulie. Deceiving your wife will corrode your soul like acid. There are plenty of people who have no business knowing. A man’s wife isn’t one of them.”

Owen sat up. “If I told her -- But I couldn’t. She’d be so betrayed.”

“She’d be betrayed anyway. The difference is, would she know it?”

“I couldn’t tell her after the wedding. That would be marrying her under false pretenses.”

“Yes, it would.”

“Or -- you and I could stop before the wedding. I could stop and just be her husband.”

Layne closed his eyes. “Is that what you want?”

“It’s what everyone is telling me I should do. I mean, except that they don’t know about you and me.”

“Oh, Paulie. I’d sacrifice anything to make you happy. I don’t think marrying Ellie is going to do it.”

“I kissed her. The way you taught me. That sure surprised her. She liked it a lot.”

“Did you?”

“It was pleasant enough. It wasn’t the same as with you. But I think I can do it. I think I can be her husband.”

Layne looked out across the river, tears forming in his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t know what else I can do.” Owen began to dress. “I used to read and read in my room and think about faraway places and all the things I could do. And now it looks like I’ll just spend my whole life here in Franklin, not doing much of anything.”

“If you decide you don’t want to continue, you and I together, I don’t think I can stay in this town,” Layne said. “I’ll miss you no matter where I am, but I can’t see you every day and not have you.”

Owen’s face contorted and he seemed about to say something, but he finished dressing wordlessly and walked away toward the few lights of Franklin.

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

The Fourth of July dawned cloudless, and it quickly turned as hot as the Fourth should be. Women carried picnic baskets on their arms and lined the parade route. Little girls wore their best, and little boys did their best to get their best clothes filthy.

Veterans of the G.A.R. paraded in their uniforms and their medals; campaigners from the war with Mexico wore theirs; one or two old soldiers who fought in 1812 did the same. The fire engines of Engine Company Number 2, Stark Company Number 3, and the West Village Fire Station were decorated with ribbon and bunting.

A nine-piece brass band got together for the occasion. They played “Tenting on the Old Campground,” “I Dream of Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair,” and Strauss’s “Radetzky March,” but not very well.

Owen stood at the entrance of his shop, ushering adults inside for free ice cream sodas, and handing out small dishes of ice cream to children. A group of boys got their ice cream and commented about how small the dishes were. Owen said, “You’re getting ice cream for free and you’re complaining they’re not big enough? Skedaddle before I tell your fathers on you.”

The boys ran away laughing, singing to the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star:”

Owen said to Doctor Layne,

Give me something for the pain.

Marble idols, silver too,

One for me and one for you.

Doctor Layne, I feel so weak,

Won’t you give me something Greek?

Owen felt his face burning. Jim Schaefer walked up to him and said, “Go on and relax, Mister Owen. My wife and I can mind the shop.”

“I feel bad about you working on the Fourth,” Owen said.

“I don’t mind. And the kids certainly don’t. My family’s all together, I have a job, and the kids are getting far more ice cream than is good for them. What could be better?”

“My Ma has a big basket of ham sandwiches. I’ll bring you some. You should have something more substantial than ice cream.”

“Mister Owen?”

“Yes, Jim?”

Schaefer seemed to be on the point of making a speech. But all he said was, “You’re a good man, sir.”

“Thank you, Jim.”

Some distance away, Doctor Layne and Mrs. Ogilvy were sitting in the shade of an old elm. Mrs. Ogilvy had insisted on preparing their picnic lunch.

“You seem a little down-hearted, Doctor Layne.”

“I won’t deny it, Mrs. Ogilvy.”

“I hear that Mister Owen and Miss Aiken are getting married next month.”

Layne stopped chewing and rested his head on one hand.

“You’re afraid of losing him, aren’t you, Doctor Layne?”

Layne looked at her in alarm.

“Did I ever tell you about my nephew Edwin, Doctor?”

“No, I don’t believe you’ve ever talked about your family. I don’t wish to pry.”

“I would like to tell you, if you don’t mind. Edwin was something of a favorite of mine. Smart? Oh, my! That boy would say things no child his age had any business saying. But never mean. Just the sweetest little boy. But different from the other little boys. Didn’t like playing rough games, always so quiet, so good in school. But that wasn’t enough for my sister’s husband. I myself think she married beneath her, but no one could change her mind about marrying Frank. Well, that man Frank thought the boy needed toughening up. And Frank sent the boy to a military academy.

“Nobody really knows what happened. I know Edwin was very unhappy there, because he told me so when he was home for a week. The other boys teased and bullied him. He didn’t have a single friend. And one morning he was found dead on the ground by the bell tower. Broken neck. Nobody knows if he jumped, if he was pushed, if he fell accidentally, if he was going up there on a dare -- none of those boys would talk.

“I remember the last time I saw Edwin, that week he was home from school. He had a look in his eyes like he was being hunted. It’s not the only time I’ve seen that look. I see it in young Mister Owen’s eyes. And I think I see it, a little bit, in yours.

“I want you to know that if there’s anything I can do for either one of you, I would be more than happy to do it.”

Layne stared at her. Finally he said, “Mrs. Ogilvy, you’re a better mother to me than my mother ever was.”

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

As the band murdered another march, Owen and Layne found themselves side by side, watching picnickers tidy up the remnants of their feasts.

“I was wondering if you would stand up with me at my wedding,” Owen said.

“What?”

“I’m asking you to be the best man at my wedding.”

Layne tried unsuccessfully to form words a few times. Finally he managed to say, “I can’t, Paulie. I couldn’t get through it.” He turned and walked away quickly through the dispersing crowd.