Authors: Fern Michaels
Enclosed is the letter that came to me from your grandfather. I have to tell you I am still in shock. I can't believe you knew about all of this and that you gave your seal of approval. It's amazing how our lives have turned around. I hope your faith in me is justified.
Also enclosed is a letter I found in your grandfather's desk. As you can see, it was never finished. There's no date on it. I have no way of knowing whether or not he intended to finish it. I only know I have to send it on.
I have a confession to make. Maybe it isn't exactly a confession, but more a revelation. I knew the moment I laid eyes on you that you were the Colemans' salvation. Go ahead, call me corny if you want. What's even cornier is you knew it, too. Don't deny it.
I'm glad the family took my news so well. Grand-mam Billie cried her eyes out. They all kept repeating over and over that they only wanted me to be happy. We've got one hell of a family, and Riley, you are a Coleman from top to bottom.
Here's a rib tickler. I wear those crazy felt slippers you guys are born with. I couldn't get used to taking my shoes off in the house. Sumi cracks the whip, let me tell you. I'm adapting, and I'm hooked on Sapporo beer. Beats Coors. I initiated a lot of noise around here. We now have VCRs, Sonys, and televisions in every room in the house. These little girls think I'm some kind of American magician. There are twelve of them, you know. Just the other day I heard two of the oldest ones saying the Queen Mother of all dirty words. The kind you and I used to hiss at one another. I pretended not to hear. They giggled.
They tell me down at the paper that I control ninety billion bucks. If you ever need some walking-around money, it's yours for the asking.
I'm chomping at the bit to get married. Sumi is keeping me at the proper distance, all the way at the other end of the house. Somehow we manage to meet
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halfway in the wee hours of the morning. I love her, Riley. Jesus, I never thought I'd feel this way about a woman. And speaking of women, I hope you aren't going to drag your feet where Ivy is concerned. Sumi says we should have a double wedding because there will be more presents. I can't make her understand that half the presents would be yours and Ivy's.
East and West finally merged, thanks to you.
Well done, Riley.
Yours, Cole
Riley read the letter to Cole from his grandfather. The old one had kept his word. There was no need for Cole ever to know it had been his idea from the very beginning. All they'd done really was to change places in life.
They were one now, the Hasegawas and the Colemans. 'Thank you, Grandfather," Riley whispered.
The letter from his grandfather was short—too short.
Dear Grandson,
It is difficult for me to write this letter, for my fingers will not move as I direct them. You will understand if the brush makes mistakes.
My greatest moment came when you called to ask for my help. I knew then, without you saying the words, that whatever it was that lay between us was no more. My heart did sing, as you said yours did, when we spoke of our love for one another.
My heart is proud that you could lay aside your pride to ask for my help, all the while thinking you would cause pain to this old one. It is important to me that you know there was no pain, only joy that you would come to me in your darkest hour and that I, and I alone, could make the light shine for you.
The wheels are, as you say, in motion for your inheritance to be transferred to Coleman. It is, as you say, right to make our families one. I regret
Riley wiped at his eyes. It was finished.
It was time now to call Ivy. Time for his walk up the hill.
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Ivy's voice was breathless when she answered the phone. "My father called and told me you would be home any day. I came back to Buckalew Big Wells to head off the realtor. It's off the market; did you know that? My father told me you brought in a second gusher on the Jarvis property. Congratulations! When did you get back to Sunbridge?"
"Strangely enough, only an hour ago. We capped the well this morning, and I'm taking a month of R and R in New York." He waited a second or two to see if Ivy would comment. When she didn't, he spoke again, "Would you like to go with me?"
There was no hesitation on Ivy's part. "I'd love to go!" She'd worry about her boss and the rent payment later. "By the way, do you want the Bronco?"
"Eventually. You didn't call.. . you could have, you know. We have phones at the site. I thought your father would have told you that. ..." Riley could feel himself flush as he waited for her answer.
"That works two ways, Riley Coleman. If you have a phone at the site, you could have called me. You weren't working twenty-four hours a day, were you? Besides, I was getting settled in my new job and all. I had an apartment to furnish. You know how it is."
"As a matter of fact, I was working twenty hours a day. We were so close to bringing in the well, we only slept in snatches. I have something I have to do. How about if I give you a call later? Will you be in Miranda or at Buckalew Big Wells?"
"Who knows? These days I pretty much move when the spirit strikes me. Do you have a pencil? Okay, here's the number at my apartment. See you around, Riley."
Riley stared at the pinging phone. He felt a loss once the connection was broken. This definitely wasn't the old Ivy. He grinned. He wondered if he'd ever tell her how often he dreamed of her in his hectic snatches of sleep, or tell her he thought of her in his most trying moments. It was so easy of late to bring her face into his line of vision. Sweet, wonderful Ivy.
Something he had to do. It wasn't an excuse, but a fact. For weeks now he'd thought about this moment. Now the moment was here, and he had to act on it. He was being drawn by some inner force to the hill behind Sunbridge. He'd never really shared his thoughts and feelings for the hill, but he knew Cole was aware of them. They'd spoken of it when he came down from the cherry blossom hill in Japan. Cole understood him
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perfectly. His Aunt Maggie called the hill God's place because all those who rested on the hill had gone to God. He wasn't one hundred percent sure his great-grandfather Seth had gone to God, but if his Aunt Maggie said it was so, then it must be so. He'd only been there twice—once alone, and then for his Aunt Amelia's burial. The others used to go to the hill often, to pour out their hearts as they searched for peace. He supposed some people might think it silly or unmanly to expect... what? Consolation, absolution, peace? His mind searched for the word he wanted to describe the hill behind Sunbridge. A sanctuary.
Ivy walked around the empty rooms at Buckalew Big Wells. It was desolate now, with all the furnishings gone. With or without furniture, she'd never been happy here. Should she wait here for Riley to call back? Would he call back? If she waited, she'd feel like a fool if he didn't. On the other hand, he might call her apartment, but if he did that, he'd get her answering machine. It might do Riley good to talk to a machine. It was time for him to appreciate her. She'd wait fifteen minutes and not a second longer. She switched the radio on. Sound blasted through the kitchen, a loud rock and roll tune that made her feet move on the tile floor.
Everything was so... hushed. Quiet. Not a peaceful quiet either. An ominous kind of quiet. Ivy leaned over the sink to stare out the window. Her heart started to flutter and she didn't know why. Suddenly the music stopped playing and the announcer came on, his voice somber and mournful. All she heard were the words "tornado" and "Miranda." "Within the hour," the announcer said in clipped tones. He went on to cite statistics of tornadoes in the state of Texas. Obviously the watch had been on for some time. She hadn't heard it, and Riley hadn't said a word. He must not have heard it either.
Riley. She had to warn him. He said he had something to do and then he'd call her back. Her hands trembled as she pressed the little buttons on the wall phone. She knew there wouldn't be an answer. She called her father, and then the Jarvis drill site. No one knew where Riley might be. Her father tried to calm her saying, "Riley would never discuss his personal life with the men. Try some of his friends. Can I help, honey?"
"It's the tornado watch; Riley doesn't know about it. I have to go, Pappy; I have to find him." She broke the connection, cutting her father off in midsentence. In rapid succession, her eye glued to the kitchen window, she called every friend of
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Riley's that she knew about. No one had seen him in months or was aware of any special place he might go. Lacey might know. She dialed her sister's work number and waited till she came on the line.
"Ivy, I have no idea. I'm sure he'll play the radio in the car and hear the warning. And speaking of warning, are you safe there at Buckalew Big Wells? Now I'm going to worry, Ivy. Promise you'll call me when it passes." Ivy promised.
Panic rivered through Ivy. She should go down to the cellar, and here she was trying to find Riley. Texas tornadoes were nothing to make light of. There was no one else to call. Cole. If anyone would know, it was Cole. She racked her brain for a full three minutes till she remembered the name of Riley's grandfather's largest newspaper. She made the call person to person. She bit off two of her freshly manicured fingernails while she waited. Cole's voice came over the wire clear and distinct. "Do you have any idea at all, Cole, where he might have gone?" Ivy cried desperately.
"Ivy, don't panic. Let me think. You've called everyone right? This is off the top of my head, but. .. did you say he brought in the second gusher and capped it? Okay ... he might have gone to the cemetery. In fact, I'd bet ten bucks that's where he went. You know, we all kind of went there when things were either going bad or good—" Cole held the phone away from him. He was talking to an empty line.
Ivy ran then, across the yard and over the fields to Sun-bridge property. She was gasping for breath when she leaped the drainage ditch and fell on her face. She wiped at the mud and kept going. She could feel something warm trickling down her knee. Blood probably, she thought inanely. Faster, faster. Her shoelaces were untied, her sneakers slipping up and down. Angrily she kicked them off. Faster, faster, her mind shrieked. Overhead the sky was the color of charcoal. It was so quiet, it was deadly. She tried calling Riley's name, but she couldn't get the one word past her swollen throat. Tears of frustration burned her eyes.
She was on the hill now, on Sunbridge land. She gasped for breath and shrieked Riley's name again, but she was too far away. Faster, faster. She climbed then on all fours, slipping and sliding in her bare feet. Once she looked over her shoulder and almost fainted. She could see it from here, the ugly black funnel coming directly across the hill. She shouted Riley's name again and again until she was hoarse. Faster, faster. Just a few more
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feet now. Ten feet, seven, five, three, and she was over the edge. Riley was the first thing she saw. He was talking in a low voice, his words muffled in the deadly stillness.
Ivy felt like her lungs were about to burst. She continued to claw her way over to where Riley stood. She was choking now, gasping for air. "Ri-ley," she croaked.
Riley turned, his eyes bulging at Ivy's condition. "What the hell ..." He turned again to see where she was pointing. "Jesus!"
"I tried to find you. I called everywhere. I heard it after we hung up. Cole told me you might be here. I called him in Japan. ... No one knew where you might go... shelter... it's coming our way," Ivy rasped. Riley's face drained of all color.
From the east Riley saw what looked like a giant black Slinky that seemed to be reaching from the earth to the sky. He could see it changing shape, indicating uncontrolled speed.
The long, black funnel became a speeding toy top sucking up everything in its path and spinning it about in a crazy quilt pattern.
Riley now understood the stillness and the quiet he'd been experiencing all afternoon. He moved then with lightning speed. He wrapped his arm around Ivy's waist and pulled her toward a huge oak tree. With his free hand he removed his belt and looped it around a sturdy sapling, an offshoot of the massive oak. His heart thundered in his chest as he struggled to buckle his left arm and Ivy's right arm. With their free arms they clung to each other, their legs entwining for a further measure of security. "Keep you head down and your mouth shut." Riley shouted to be heard above the roaring that was coming closer and closer.
The ugly black funnel thundered across the fields, swallowing everything in its path as it raged toward Sunbridge. Immobile and paralyzed with fear, Riley watched in horror as Sunbridge was lifted from its foundation, a dollhouse in monstrous jaws. Riley stared in numb disbelief as he watched his heritage, his home, disappear from sight.
From their position high on the hill, they could see the center of the tornado roar through the valley below them. Had they not secured themselves in those first seconds, they, too, would have been sucked into the monster's gaping throat.
It was gone, the path of destruction a holocaust. Ivy buried her head in Riley's chest as he struggled to unbuckle his belt.
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Freed, they leaned into one another, trembling, holding each other. They were together.
Riley wanted the feeling to last forever. He felt Ivy had reached out to touch his soul. Ivy spoke, breaking the moment. "It's gone, Riley. One minute it was here and then it was gone." Her voice was gentle and tearful, not for herself, but for the anguish Riley was feeling.
"I know. I used to make model houses out of Popsicle sticks and toothpicks. That.. .that thing just took my home like it was a model and crashed it to nothingness. ... Is there such a word as nothingness?" he asked inanely.
"Oh, Ivy, I busted my ass, I did it by the book, and sometimes I did it by my own book. I worked around the clock, seven days a week, to get where I was before I climbed this hill. I had the world by the tail. I had it all. Ivy, I had it all!"