Read Into the Woods Page 2


  "Can you come over to my house for dinner tonight?" she asked, gasping for a breath at the same time.

  Mommy overheard and smiled. "Don't you think you should ask your mother first. Autumn?" she asked her.

  "Oh. Daddy makes us dinner. He's a gourmet cook," she declared.

  Mommy laughed and looked at Autumn's mother, who was talking with two other naval wives in the kitchen.

  "I still think you should ask first," she said with a soft smile.

  "Right. I'll ask," Autumn cried, and leaped off my bed where she had been holding court.

  Mommy and I looked at each other and laughed.

  "It's okay for you to come," Autumn cried. returning. "Daddy loves having another mouth to feed. That's what my mother said."

  I looked at Mommy.

  "It's all right. Go on. Enjoy yourself. honey. There's not much to do at the moment since you've already put your clothes away." she told me.

  She knew I would want to take my time organizing my dolls and other important possessions. Daddy would have to put up some more shelving, too. I thought.

  Mommy returned to talk to the other women, and Autumn and I left the house so she could show me around. The streets and the other houses looked remarkably as they were depicted in the brochure. Often the brochures were older and no longer as accurate, but these homes were still sparkling with a new sheen, the lawns and flowers rich and healthy.

  I saw other officers in their crisp, sharp uniforms getting in and out of automobiles or talking to one another. Some gazed our way and smiled, others nodded, never losing their military demeanor. I was so used to men and women standing firm and straight. I thought most civilians were sick or deformed, slouching, moving with slower,

  undetermined, and insecure steps.

  As we walked along. Autumn rattled off the names of the families in each home, which ones had children close to our age. and which didn't. Although there were two other girls who would be in my class at school. Wendi Charles and Penny Martin. I had the distinct sense that Autumn was not very friendly with them. Wendi Charles's father was a captain, a fighter pilot, and, of course. Penny was Jarvis's sister and the daughter of Vice Admiral Martin, She made them sound as though they were very snobby girls who let everyone know how important their families were in the naval community,

  Autumn had been living in San Diego, too, only from what she told me, this was the first time her family was living on a naval base. We walked until we were at a small park where some mothers were supervising their small children on slides and the merry-go-round. We sat on a bench and watched for a while.

  "I bet you're tired." Autumn said. The way she said it made me think she was saying I was tired of "the life," as Mommy sometimes called it. Some of the Navy wives she had known thought of their husbands' enlistment as they would a prison sentence, looking forward to discharge and their entry into the civilian world just as someone who had finished serving a sentence would.

  "A little," I said "You know how hectic it is to pick up and move so much."

  "Did you have a boyfriend back in San Diego?"

  "No," I said quickly. She nodded as if that was what she had expected to hear,

  "Wendi Charles told me boys who know you are a Navy girl think you are more promiscuous. Do you know what that means?"

  "Yes," I said. smiling.

  "I bet you're a good student. I bet you're smarter than I am. You just look like you are," she said. and I laughed.

  "I like to read." I admitted.

  "Me, too, only I'm sure not as much as you So?"

  "So what?"

  "Do you think what Wendi says is true?" she asked. "Are we more promiscuous?"

  She couldn't be more obvious about fishing for personal information. I thought, or was she trying to conform something in herself?

  "I don't know. No," I decided. "Why should we be?"

  "Because were moving so often. Wendi says, they think we don't care about our reputations."

  "That's stupid," I said, and she nodded.

  "I thought so. too. Have you had any boyfriends, though?" she followed, raising her brown eyes toward me quickly in anticipation.

  "No, not anyone I would call that. How about you?"

  She shook her head. "I like this boy. Trent Ralston, though." she confessed, "You're the first person I've told."

  "So Trent Ralston doesn't know. either?"

  "No," she said, raising her eyebrows and widening her eyes as if that would be outrageous. "Wendi says once a boy knows you like him, he gets more aggressive. She says you have to keep them in doubt all the time."

  "I guess she thinks she's an expert when it comes to boys. huh?"

  "I suppose she is She's very popular. She didn't actually tell me these things," she confessed. "I was just nearby when she was telling them to her friends, and I overheard."

  "What about your older sister. Caitlin?"

  "What about her?"

  "Don't you ever ask her questions, get advice about boys from her?"

  "No," she said quickly. "She thinks I'm still too immature to talk to me about such things." She shrugged. "We've never been that close."

  "That's too bad."

  "You never had a sister or brother?"

  "No, but I wish I had." I said. "People never appreciate what they have when they have it," I added, a little bitterly, recalling the way some of my friends resented or argued with their brothers and sisters.

  Autumn nodded.

  One of the mothers started to chastise her son for being too rough with the others on the slide. She shook him hard, and he started to cry as if she had rattled something in him and caused something to break. His feelings were shattering. I thought. No one likes to be punished so vehemently in front of his friends. His mother looked so enraged, I could see she frightened even the other children, who cowered back to watch,

  "I'm so terrified of becoming someone's mother," Autumn said, watching the scene before us.

  "Why?"

  "I'm sure I won't be a good mother. I'll be too permissive. I could never do that." she said, nodding at the way the mother 'vas still reprimanding her child. "My children will become wild animals, and my husband will hate me and leave me out of frustration."

  "My father says you never know what you will really do until you have to do it. Everything else is just talk. So don't be so quick to condemn yourself," I told her.

  She smiled. "C'mon," she said. jumping to her feet and seizing my hand. "Let's go to my house to listen to some music and talk some more before it's time for dinner."

  "I'd better go home one more time first and be sure there isn't anything my mother needs me to do," I said. Her eyes drooped with disappointment. "If there isn't. I'll come." I said, and she beamed again.

  "Good, because there is so much I have to tell you. You should know who to trust and who not to trust, what to believe and what not to believe. It's so hard when you have to discover all these things yourself. No one is going to be a better friend to you than I will, because we come from the same world." she emphasized.

  Her face filled with worry as she waited for my reaction. I bet she has Ho friends, I thought to myself. not even a strong acquaintance.

  And for the first time. I realized how terribly lonely and afraid girls like us could be. I wondered why I hadn't felt it before. Was there something wrong or right with me? Shouldn't I have cared more, been as hungry for social life as Autumn obviously was? Why hadn't I ever been concerned about not having a steady boyfriend?

  A butterfly passed close by as we started away, and I thought of myself as a butterfly still in its cocoon, its wings just starting to flutter, emerging but with fear more than excitement. Every new feeling. every new hunger, surely must first fill us with terror. What if we don't ever satisfy ourselves? What if we tremble like Autumn does and see ourselves as failing to find love, to find meaning?

  How long can we continue to fly without it?

  .

  Mommy insisted she di
dn't need me for anything, so Autumn and I headed for her house. As we walked along, a flashy red convertible pulled alongside with two girls and a boy who was driving.

  "It's Wendi Charles and Penny Martin." Autumn quickly whispered, her voice rattling a bit with trepidation.

  'Hi." the girl in the front seat said, leaning over the door. Are you the new kid on the block?"

  "I suppose so." I said, and the girl in the backseat laughed.

  "I'm Wench. That's Penny giggling stupidly back there, and this is Ricky Smith, who enjoys being our slave. What's your name?"

  "Grace Houston."

  "Well. Grace. I see Autumn has pounced on you. What did you do. Autumn, wait at the gate all night or something so you could get to her first?"

  "No," Autumn said quickly, but she couldn't look directly at Wendi, who had steely, cold, dark brown eyes. "I don't pounce on people," she added, but kept her eves down,

  "No, people pounce on you." Wendi said. and Ricky and Penny laughed again. "Isn't that right. Autumn?"

  "C'mon," she said to me, "We have to get to my house."

  "What's the hurry, Autumn?" Penny asked. "You doing something exciting again, or do you just want to tell Grace here your war stories?"

  "Boom. boom!" Ricky bellowed, pumping his right arm like a cheerleader.

  The other two laughed again. How cruel and sarcastic they are to Autumn, I thought.

  "C'mon," Autumn urged.

  I began to turn away to walk with her.

  "Did you tell her about your secret abortion yet?" Penny asked, practically shouting it.

  "What?" I said, pausing and turning back to her, not sure I was hearing right.

  The girls and Ricky laughed.

  "I guess you were building up to it. huh, Autumn?" Wendi said. She turned to me. "It's not exactly something you wear on your shoulder board."

  I looked at Autumn. Tears were streaking down her cheeks, and her chin was down, almost touching her chest.

  "I don't understand," I said.

  "No, not too many of us do," Penny quipped. "Stop by and visit us later, Grace. We'll fill you in on what you really should and shouldn't know around here. If you hang with her, you'll get a reputation before you even unpack, and you'll be sally. Unless, of course, you want that sort of reputation."

  They all laughed again.

  "Home, James," Wendi cried, and waved at the front of the car. "Aye. aye. Captain." Ricky said, and they started away.

  Autumn looked as if she was having trouble breathing. Her face was so white, and I could see her hands trembling, even as she clutched her elbows tightly, embracing herself as if she were keeping herself from toppling forward.

  "What are they talking about?" I asked her.

  She lifted her head slowly, her eves now bloodshot.

  "It's a lie. Its all a lie. They hate me!" she screamed, and shot ahead of me.

  "Autumn!" I called after her, but she kept walking. I looked back. The convertible had

  disappeared around a corner. For a long moment. I was totally confused and couldn't decide which way to go. Was it a lie? How could she sound and be so innocent before and have had such a thing happen to her? I hadn't been in my new home and community more than a few hours, and already I was enmeshed in a grand drama. I thought.

  Autumn had slowed down about a block ahead of me. I hurried after her and caught up as she started to turn the corner toward her house.

  "What's going on? I don't understand," I said "Why did they say that?"

  "They're just mean. vicious."

  "They are mean and vicious to do that. Even if it was true, no one should just come out with that when meeting someone new." I said, and she stopped, ground the tears from her eves, and looked at me. "Are you all right?" I asked.

  "No," she said.

  I stood there silently, not sure what else to do or say. I looked down, up the street, and then back at her. She was staring at me so strangely now.

  "Autumn?"

  "Oh, what's the difference? You'll find out anyway. It's tut," she said in a dry voice, just a little above a whisper, and then she started away again, moving at a normal pace, her head still down, her arms still embracing herself.

  It was true?

  I felt as if I had been dropped into a world of madness, unable to distinguish what was real and what wasn't. It made my heart pound. The roar of two fighter jets passing by was so loud it even drowned out my thoughts for a moment. I saw Autumn walk to her front door, open it, and go inside.

  Feeling more sorry for her than confused and frightened now, I continued toward her house.

  I pushed the door buzzer and waited. Moments later, a man with short hair so golden blond it was nearly buttercup yellow answered the door. He was wearing a full apron with a picture of Frank Sinatra on the front. I could immediately see the resemblance to Autumn in his face. Both had round, full cheeks and brown eyes and freckles. Her father didn't look to be much taller than five feet eight or nine. He wiped his hands on the apron and smiled at me.

  "You must be our dinner guest," he said. "Marjorie called to warn me just a little while ago. You're not a gourmet expert, are you?" he kidded, pretending to look frightened.

  "No, sir."

  "Good, good. Well." he said, stepping forward and looking past me. "why did Autumn ring the doorbell? Where is she? Wasn't she with you?"

  "She came home already," I said, surprised he hadn't heard her enter. She must have been walking on pussy willow feet.

  "Oh, has she? Well, then, come on in. I'm Lieutenant Commander Sullivan," he said, offering his hand to me.

  "I'm Grace Houston."

  "Welcome to the base. I'm looking forward to meeting your father. You guys just came from San Diego. right?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Well, we've been there. too. You'll like it here, even though the winters aren't as warm."

  I nodded. We are always supposed to like the new place more that the old. I thought.

  "Well, then," Lieutenant Sullivan said. "come along. I'll show you to Autumn's room." I could see he looked a little puzzled about our separate entrances but didn't care or want to ask any more about that. "I bet you girls have a lot to talk about. It's exciting but nerve-wracking to land on a new beachhead. huh?"

  "Yes, sir, it is."

  He smiled at me and then knocked on Autumn's bedroom door. When there was no response, he glanced at me again and then knocked again.

  "Autumn? Your friend is here." he said. When she still didn't reply, he turned to me. "Are you sure she came home?"

  "Yes, sir, I saw her enter the house." I said.

  His face filled with concern, and he tried the door knob. It was locked.

  "Autumn!" he said sharply. "What are you doing in there?"

  We heard the front door open again, and we both turned quickly and looked down the hallway. One look told me it was Autumn's sister. Caitlin. I could see the resemblance even though Caitlin took after her mother more and was taller, slimmer, and more striking, with more defined facial features, a narrower jaw, and higher cheekbones. Following behind her was a tall, dark-haired boy who looked like a junior officer, his posture firm, his face, especially those bright, sharp hazel eyes, full of self-confidence. He had a military-style haircut and wore jeans and a button-down, light brown, short-sleeve shirt.

  "What's going on. Daddy?" Caitlin asked immediately, "This is Grace Houston," Lieutenant Sullivan said,

  "Lieutenant Commander Houston's daughter. They just moved to Norfolk. and Autumn invited her to dinner tonight."

  "Oh, great. Welcome." she said with a friendly smile.

  "However, your sister has apparently locked herself in her room. Again." he added after a beat.

  Caitlin's eves filled with both embarrassment and concern. She turned to the boy I already knew had to be Jarvis Martin, and he tucked the right corner of his mouth into his cheek and shook his head.

  "Let me try," she said, and approached the door. We both stepped back. 'Autumn
, what are you doing? You have a guest here. Open your door," she said firmly, "You're embarrassing everyone, including Daddy," she added. She tapped on the door. "Autumn?"

  A few moments of silence passed. I looked to Jarvis, who had turned away to pretend interest in a framed print of an old whaling vessel he surely must have seen many times.

  This is ridiculous," Lieutenant Sullivan said. "Step away from the door. Caitlin."

  Jarvis turned quickly and drew closer.

  "Autumn, if you don't open this door instantly. I'll break it down," her father threatened.

  I felt frightened and awkward standing there and took a few steps back,

  "Maybe I should go," I said softly to Caitlin.

  She just shook her head. "I'm sorry." she said.

  "Do you need any help, sir?" Jarvis asked Lieutenant Sullivan. He looked excited, even pleased with the call to action.

  Lieutenant Sullivan gazed at him, the fury now so intense in his face I could see it swirling in his darkened eyes. Without reply, he stepped back and then lunged forward with his shoulder, smashing at the door. I heard wood splinter. Jarvis stepped closer and did the same, this time the door opening so fast he tripped forward, barely catching himself to keep from falling to the floor.

  I moved closer to the front door, feeling almost as if I should run away from the scene. My instincts were lifting their heads out from under the dark places where they slept and screaming all sorts of horrid warnings. My heart was pounding. I think I even whimpered at the sight of the two men charging into the room. Caitlin walking slowly behind them.

  I heard her scream and Lieutenant Sullivan cry, "Oh, my God!"

  I didn't wait to see why. My bones had turned to ice. I turned and ran out of the house, down the walkway to the sidewalk, and then continued running, confused for a moment and passing the corner I should have turned down to get to my new home. I realized it almost immediately and doubled back. As I headed down the street. I heard a car engine roar and saw Autumn's mother drive past me, her tires squealing as she made the turn behind me.

  I broke into a fast walk and hurried to my house. The front door was open. Daddy and Mommy were standing just inside talking when I stepped into the house. They turned to me. My whole body was still shaking, and tears were streaming down my face and falling from my chin.