She's Gone: A Novel (21 page)

“How could you?”

“Exactly. How could we? Marlena said she verified the facts. I asked her twice as the story seemed odd. She said it was from the
Village Voice
and you know…they’re credible.”

“What did she say?”

“It was a typo.”

“A typo? What do you think?”

“I don’t know, but I reassigned her duties to sorting mail. I’m printing a retraction. I’ve never had to print a retraction. Our credibility is sacred.”

“I still get a bad vibe from her. I think she’s trying to undermine the agency and the paper. Coulter too.”

“Oh, she’s all right. There’s a lot of information coming through the office. I think she just screwed up, that’s all.”

Why was he defending her?

Will snapped his notebook shut. “Coulter is getting on my nerves, though.”

Jolie flashed back to the dark look Coulter had given her after she snapped the photo. “I think Coulter was the one who exposed my film.”

“Nah, it was probably some student checking out the camera and didn’t know what they were doing. It’s no big deal.”

Her eyebrows arched. Two week’s worth of carefully composed shots was ‘no big deal’?

“I saw your prints from Walden Pond. Who are those people?”

She inhaled quickly. He had gone through her photos. Guilt filled her. The day at Walden Pond had been so idyllic. “Oh, they’re…friends.”

“What’s with the cemetery?”

“We went to Author’s Ridge.”

“I thought you said you were going with work friends.”

“One of them is a customer. They’re students at Harvard and Radcliffe.”

“That Harvard guy again?”

She nodded. Her chest tightened with guilt. He was jealous. “Let’s go out there this summer and swim,” she said, anxious to change the subject. “We’ll invite Ginger and Sam, Daniel and Leah. We’ll pack a picnic and swim all day.”

He scanned her face for a long moment. “Sure, but not this weekend. I’m tied up at the office. People from D.C. are coming up and the professor’s stopping by with an article.”

Ginger stopped by that evening to see Sam. They all sat in the living room, watching the ten o’clock news. America was at war with itself. Police constantly clashed with anti-war protesters or were shooting it out with the Black Panthers. Campus bombings of ROTC buildings were rampant. Conspiracy trials were underway in major cities for various trumped-up charges. Hordes of demonstrators scuffled with police outside courthouses. Reality played out in a surreal theater, the streets.

“Look how plastic that news guy is in his polyester suit. Why aren’t there any women news anchors?” Jolie asked.

“We’ll fix that, won’t we? Jolie and I joined the Women’s Liberation Movement,” Ginger said.

Will looked at Jolie and then Ginger and back to Jolie. “You what?”

“We joined the Women’s Liberation Movement,” Ginger repeated.

“What about the Socialist Party’s Women’s Caucus?” Will asked.

Jolie looked to Ginger for strength and then back to Will. “That’s not going to get us anywhere anytime soon. There are too many women’s groups around the country with no real focus. We’re consolidating the effort,” Jolie said.

“But we’re fighting for equality of all classes,” Will said.

“We are not ‘classes’,” Ginger said. “We are humankind.”

“Women can’t be free in an un-free society,” Sam said. “Your liberation will come from the rest of us.”

Jolie inched to the edge of the couch, her back straight. “We have the power behind us. We are the majority. We’re not going to wait for your revolution.”

“I can’t believe this.” Will shook his head.

“We need your help to get our message out about our platform and what we’re doing around the country,” Jolie said.

Will locked eyes with her. “You expect our support when you’re undermining the power of the Movement?”

“Yes, we do.” She sat tall and watched him. Breathe. Yes, his woman-child was standing up to him. She had joined a movement and hadn’t talked to him about it. He thought she was vulnerable and naive. Her inner strength swelled. She saw in his eyes that it scared him.

28

The Three Jewels

The chrysanthemum flowers burst open under the boiling water, unfurling their petals like a kaleidoscope. Jolie took the pot of tea to the back porch along with her dog-eared copy of
The Wisdom of Buddha.
It was finally the weekend.

Will came out later and sat down next to her. “What are you reading?”

She held up her book. Will tilted his head back and rolled his eyes.

“I want to join the Buddhist Temple. It’s right around the corner. I want more guidance on the eightfold path.”

“I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t waste your time on that stuff. You spend too much time in dreamland now with that little Buddha statue.”

“Meditation helps me stay calm and centered. It’s the heart of Buddhism. I want to get to the next level.”

Will laughed. “What’s that, enlightenment? There is no enlightenment in this life. Buddhism is like a cult. The more you give to them, the more they’ll take from you.”

Buddhism had expanded her view of life and there was so much more to learn. She gathered her inner strength. This was one thing he wouldn’t control. “It’s not a cult. It’s been around for thousands of years. It teaches us to transform our suffering into mindfulness, compassion, peace, and liberation. It’s teaching me how to be responsible for my life.” There, she had said it.

“Well, I feel somewhat responsible for your life, and I don’t want you getting sucked into some religion. It sounds like you’re already half brainwashed.”

She looked out over the field and retreated inward. He just didn’t understand. She’d get him to read about it. Or maybe the professor had a positive opinion about it.

He rose and held her chin in his hand and kissed her. “I’m only trying to protect you, Little Wing. I’m off to the office. Are you coming by later?”

She nodded. If she had time she would, but her day was planned. Today she was going to buy him a guitar. She wanted to surprise him.

She waited for him to leave before going into their room to meditate. She lit a stick of patchouli incense and set it by the small Buddha. Sitting on her rug she meditated, breathing deeply to try and clear her mind. Will puzzled her. Didn’t he feel the stress of leading their double life and feeling like they could never let their guard down? Their lives hung on a fine thread that could break at any time. Meditation kept her anchored and calmed her troubled emotions. Following her breath, her thoughts cleared. Sometime later, a siren from down the street roused her from the peaceful state.

She sat down at the small writing table and wrote a note to Nick. She wanted to mail the two photos.

Nick,

Work is a drag. I hope your internship is going well.

Here are two photos from our trip to the pond. Thanks for inviting me. I have taken lots more photos and some are on display in the Harvard Square camera shop.

I joined the Women’s Liberation Movement last weekend. Sisters for Liberation! I’m
g
oing to see Gloria Steinem speak next week. Have you heard of her?

Write back.

Miss you,

Jolie

She slipped on a vintage silk top and blue jean bell bottoms, grabbed her camera and the envelope for Nick, and walked out into the glorious day.

In Central Square she mailed the letter. As she walked she unconsciously chanted,
The universe has a song, and the song is you
. It had come into her thoughts when she meditated earlier and now it was silently playing in her head. She smiled. It was a blissful summer morning and she was off to buy Will a guitar.

Up ahead a familiar figure walked toward her. She kept her gaze trained on him. Their gap closed. It was Coulter. A wave of panic spread over her. Even if he wasn’t with the FBI he gave her the creeps. They both stopped on the sidewalk.

“Hey Jolie, are you headed to the office?”

“Probably later.”

His beady eyes drank her in. “Where are you going?”

It wasn’t any of his business. She searched for a polite response. “I’m just out and about.”

“Do you want to do it?” Coulter asked.

Jolie looked at him quizzically. “Pardon?”

“Do you want to do it? My place is two blocks away.”

“I don’t want to do anything with you.” She strode off, heat rising to her face.

“Hey, what about free love? Especially from you California girls.”

Jolie looked back to make sure he wasn’t following her and continued walking. She couldn’t believe he’d propositioned her. At the office he had acted like a prude. It was just an act. What a jerk. Will would go crazy if he knew.

Her bliss was now shattered. She wanted to retreat from the world. She gripped her moonstone in the pouch. A torrent of angry responses she wished she’d said to Coulter flowed through her mind. She’d be ready for their next encounter.

She stopped abruptly. Her thoughts surprised her. They didn’t reflect a Buddhist’s virtuous mind. They were the opposite of right thinking and right speech. She silently chanted
the universe has a song, and the song is you
back into her consciousness.

She walked a few more blocks and stopped before the Central Sales Company. This was the place. Inside, the store was crammed with musical instruments. Several rows of guitars, mandolins, saxophones, and other shiny brass instruments hung from the ceiling.

An older man wearing thick black glasses greeted her. “Welcome. Have a look around. I’m Ed if you have any questions.”

She eased slowly through the crowded store, looking at guitars. Strains of a classical guitar came from the back room. Her mood lifted.

Ed came over after she had walked around a few times. “What are you looking for?”

She should have brought Will, but she’d wanted to surprise him. “A used acoustic guitar. A good one.”

“You’ve come to the right place. We price them fairly and we don’t haggle. What you see is what you get.”

Jolie looked at the rows of guitars gleaming under the lights, not knowing where to start. She’d had a guitar at home and had taken lessons. She could strum a few songs but she didn’t know the first thing about picking one out for Will.

Ed looked at her. “How much do you want to spend?”

“I have one hundred and twenty dollars. It’s a present for my boyfriend.”

“Oh, you’re in good shape. If it was me, I’d be looking at that Ibanez over there.” He walked down an aisle, reached up, and took down a guitar made from dark wood. He handed it to her. She cradled it against her chest and strummed a few chords. It felt right and sounded good. The price: one hundred dollars.

“I’ll take it. I need to buy a case, too.”

“A case comes with it. I’ll tell you what. If he doesn’t like it, he can trade it in within the week.”

She smiled at Ed, relieved Will could choose another if he wanted. He was very particular about some things. “Thank you.”

She walked out with the guitar. Her bell bottom jeans swished against the black case. She couldn’t wait to give it to him that night. He needed to play music and mellow out. At the house, she set the guitar by the stereo.

She had the house to herself. She settled in with
The Wisdom of Buddha,
but her concentration waivered. Her conversation with Will earlier that morning was unsettling. Buddhism was not a cult. It was an individual practice, unique to each person. A path to free oneself from suffering. Didn’t he want her to find peace?

She inhaled deeply, and as she exhaled a feeling of boldness welled up inside of her. Nobody would own her. Nobody would control her or her spirituality. She set the book down and left the house.

The sun blazed overhead in the humid afternoon. After five blocks she turned into an open wooden gate and onto a stone path. In that instant she entered another world. Irish moss cushioned the ground between large stepping stones. Street sounds faded into the gentle rush of falling water. Koi darted between lotus pads in a pond and disappeared under a small waterfall. She was drawn to the stone benches on either side of the pond but continued on the path and stopped before a massive wooden door. She pushed the heavy door open and walked inside.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the muted light inside the high-ceilinged entry. Sandalwood incense filled the air.

A man with a shaved head wearing a saffron-colored robe approached her. His light brown skin shone against the silk robe. “Welcome to our temple.” Peacefulness radiated from him and something more, an aura of rarified energy. She felt instantly calm and safe in his presence.

He oriented her to the temple and showed her the meditation rooms and library. In the cool wooden sanctuary, life outside disappeared and a peaceful protection descended, a refuge from the city.

“At our temple, it is not so much about teaching but about experiencing,” he told her. His lilting voice and accent was mesmerizing. “Through meditation, we naturally progress beyond. We have faith in the Three Jewels—Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha.”

Jolie smiled at him, not knowing what to say.

“We invite you to continue your journey with us. Join us in meditation. Learn and practice the eightfold path and you will be liberated.”

“Thank you. But how do I start?”

“My child, you have already started. You are here, aren’t you?” She held his gray-blue gaze. He seemed to be searching her eyes for something. “You are welcome here any time.”

He handed her a schedule of meditation and yoga sessions, and she walked out of the temple infused by a sense of calm. Her body seemed to float. She’d read about the Three Jewels. The name alone created beautiful colors in her mind. She was one step closer to liberation. Will didn’t need to know about the temple just yet. An increasing sense of freedom filled her.

“The professor came by the office and brought a Vietnam vet,” Will said that night. “I put him to work right away. He’s quiet but has been around and wants to help.”

“Hmm,” she said. Her thoughts were on the temple and when she could go back. She needed to pay attention.

“The professor wrote an article on the My Lai investigation. I don’t know where he’s getting his information but it’s good stuff.”

“Maybe from the vet?”

“He was in a different command. He was there around the same time, though.”

“Invite him over sometime,” Jolie said. She wanted to know more about what it was like in Vietnam.

“Adam’s running the article this week under a pseudonym. I’m sending it out to all the other presses for publication.”

Jolie could hardly contain herself with the surprise for Will. After dinner, he went in to the living room to put on an album. She followed him. He stood eyeing the guitar case.

“Whose guitar is this?”

“It’s yours.”

“Mine?”

“I bought it for you today.” She sat on the couch, gripping her hands together. What if he didn’t like it?

“You what? What about the money for a VW bus?”

“I still have five hundred dollars saved in my tin. Let’s start looking for one.”

She had more saved in the bank. Most of Will’s money went directly back into the agency. He didn’t believe in banks, but she worried about getting robbed. She’d vowed to herself months ago that they would always have a cushion. It gave her peace of mind, knowing that they wouldn’t be on the street if they had to leave quickly again. His hand rested on the case.

“Go ahead. Open it up.”

Will laid the case on the floor and snapped open the lid. The guitar glistened. He took it out of the case, turned it over and over, and then strummed a few chords.

“It’s so fine, thank you.” He bent to kiss her. “An Ibanez, what a beauty.”

He sat down next to her on the couch and played one of the songs he had written. His fingers moved smoothly across the frets and his voice was a mere whisper. Jolie put her head back and closed her eyes. Melancholy fell over her like rain. She should be happy, shouldn’t she?