Chapter Ten
"Come on, Miry, it'll be fun," James said to her as he pulled her up from the couch by the hands.
"I don't want to go," said Mirabelle to her brother, "Besides, two's company and three's a crowd."
"Sheryl won't mind," he answered back as he led her by the hand out of their parents' living room.
"Anything to get her out of the house," thought James as the two of them walked to his car. He had never seen her like this before. She was completely despondent and was growing worse. James and his parents knew if they didn't get Mirabelle moving again she would probably never recover.
He wondered what had been going through her mind all of this time. In any case, she was doing far too much thinking. He knew what could happen if she didn't snap out of it. One of his friends from high school had gone from your normal, average guy to what could be considered mentally incompetent. "His brain went into overdrive and he fell off his rocker," sounded funny to some but not to James. He saw this guy occasionally and wondered what would ever become of him? The rest of his life would be wasted in some fantasy world disconnected from reality. The guy had not been different from anyone else he knew before he went 'overboard,' either. Every young adult wondered about his future but somehow this guy had lost it mentally and James didn't think his friend would ever live a normal life again.
James drove the two of them to his house. Sheryl was waiting for them, in front of the gate, with a picnic basket. She let herself into the car.
"Hi, Mirabelle," she said warmly with her southern drawl, "glad you decided to come along." Mirabelle smiled briefly at her then withdrew again into her mental cocoon.
James drove them south of town to the river. There on it's banks they would have a picnic. "Mirabelle was right," thought James, "'two's company and three's a crowd,'" but she needed this fresh air more than anything else and she did always seem to be happier when she was out of doors. James was lucky to have a girlfriend as understanding as Sheryl. He looked at her and smiled. "What a gal," he thought, "and how we met!"
He and Sheryl met years ago at a travelling carnival that had stopped in town. Sheryl was manning a kissing booth and was doing a very brisk business. She was originally from a small Louisiana town and had joined the carnival because she "wanted to see the world." The vagabond life wasn't as romantic as she imagined it would be but she was comfortable with it and she did get to travel. James, along with every young man in town, was attracted to Sheryl's good looks and charming manner. Particularly striking was her long, bright red hair. James had joined the long line of men before her booth and waited patiently for his turn. He'd pay any price for a chance to kiss her.
After an excruciating wait, it was his turn. She smiled pleasingly at James, like she did with all the men, and he returned her smile. "What incredible green eyes," he thought to himself as he reached for his wallet. After paying up, he gave her the most exquisite kiss he could muster. She promptly fainted from the kiss's effects and James found himself holding her limp body in his arms. She gave up her carnival life to stay with James in Ponderosa that very same day. She said, "He's the best kisser I've ever had, and I've had plenty! It was the only thing I could do!"
They reached the river, parked the car, and laid out their picnic gatherings. While James and Sheryl doted on each other like two sickening lovebirds, Mirabelle ate quietly. She sat with the two of them out of sight behind her and watched the river flowing on by.
Mirabelle took a deep breath of fresh air and sighed. She did feel better and was glad she had come along. She had been beating herself up, emotionally and mentally, for many weeks now and it felt to her that the life had been drained right out of her. Being out here, amongst the trees, the sun, and the gentle breezes, made her feel better than she had for a long time.
She finished her lunch and told James and Sheryl that she was going for a walk. "Fine. Fine," said James, barely noticing her. Mirabelle got out of there quick--at the rate they were going they'd be at each other's mouths with a vengance before she even got out of sight.
Mirabelle walked along the river's edge, watching the sunlight reflecting off the water as if the river were a bed of shimmering jewels. She smiled, delighted she had discovered this precious treasure. It had been a long two months. She never thought her life could fall apart so completely and quickly. She couldn't keep up with the pace of events that life was tossing her way--one disaster, one failure, one heartache after another.
She stopped at a small meadow along the river's side to sit and watch the water. It's gentle flowing calmed her and for a short while she at last felt some measure of peace. As she returned her thoughts to the challenge of her life, that small amount of peace she had gained disappeared as the darkening storm overtook her.
"What am I doing?" she wondered. She recalled all the events of her life: the good, the bad; happy moments, sad moments--everything that had ever happened to her. Her thoughts then turned to her future. "What do I do with my life, now?" she asked herself. She almost had it all, she reflected: a man who loved her and some sort of bright outlook on the future (even though she had been at odds with it). Now she had nothing: she had lost her job, lost Edward, and had gained the reputation of being some sort of freak or monster. Only her family was still there for her. Even with them supporting her, however, she still felt her future was hopeless. She'd never amount to anything and life would be just one day of unhappy misery after another.
It was all so hopeless. Life had it out for her--only she could be cursed with such misfortune. She lowered her head and closed her eyes as the sadness in her heart grew and enveloped her. Warm tears ran down her face to fall on her faded red shirt and blue jeans.
"Life wasn't worth living anymore," she realised: Whatever chance at happiness she had, had slipped away from her forever. Continuing to live no longer held any promise of a happy future for her and though she sat in the warm, bright light of day, nothing could penetrate into the cold darkness she felt within her heart.
She looked up and through watery eyes saw the blur that was the river. It's gently flowing depths called to her, promising peace and a release from her suffering. She had thought about undertaking a permanent solution to her messed up life and now the river beckoned to her, offering its eternal peace in exchange for her body.
Mirabelle stood up to face her savior as tears continued to fall from her anguished blue eyes. She walked to the river's edge. The cascade of light upon it's surface playfully enticed her. To lie along such beauty, she thought. To finally feel joy and happiness once again. She watched the river's currents and flows like she was looking at a lover. It's gentle demeanor continued to invite her into the water.
The freedom and release from her heart's woes and the injustices of her life lay before her. All she had to do was to just wade in and let the river carry her away. She'd allow it's flowing spirit to take her in its arms and she would flow away with the river, forever.
She forgot all about the losses of her life, why she had been so unhappy, the Golden Nugget incident, Edward, everything. She had always felt somewhat out of place among people, anyway. Now the spirits of her childhood, her friends, offered her their solace, an acceptance into their world.
She stepped into the water. She knew she couldn't swim but that didn't matter to her. Here was finally the release from the indignities of living. She started to dive into the river. Her lover's embrace awaited her. She watched in rapture as the water came closer and closer to her face.
She stopped in mid-air. Someone had grabbed her by the shirt's neck and was
holding her aloft. Breaking free of the river's spell she turned to look angrily at whomever had stopped her short of eternal bliss.
It was a man--an Indian. Mirabelle straightened her body and, turning, used her forearm to break the man's grasp from her shirt. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked him in an extremely curt voice.
The man stepped back and raised his open palms before him in a gesture of non-hostility. "I'm sorry I grabbed you," he said to her calmly, "it just looked to me as if you were entranced or something and that you might have drowned."
Mirabelle's anger quickly subsided. It was true: the river had somehow entranced her while she was in her deleterious state of mind and she had been about to drown herself. She looked at the man. He was of medium height and average build. He wore a black cowboy hat, a blue workshirt, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. He had light brown skin, black eyes, a broad face, and a broad, high, and long nose. His black, straight hair was tied in two braids on opposite sides of his head and reached down past his shoulders.
"Who are you?" asked Mirabelle.
"My name is Joseph," he replied, "Joseph Yellowfeather." "What is your name?" he asked her.
"Mirabelle Laughlin," she replied.
"Come on, let's get out of the water," he suggested to her. He took her by the hand to lead her to the bank of the river. They then sat down.
"What are you doing here by the river?" asked Mirabelle.
"I'm waiting here for my boss to pick me up," replied Joseph. "And you?" he asked her.
"Oh. I was just thinking about my life," said Mirabelle. She felt quite ashamed--she was sure he must have seen her crying.
"I often sit down by the river's edge to contemplate things," he said as he stared in rapt contemplation of the river. He looked at her briefly then stood up. "I've got to go. My boss is probably up waiting for me at the road, by now." He smiled at her then walked through the meadow to disappear into the trees. Mirabelle watched him till he was out of sight then turned her head to look at the river.
"I almost killed myself," she made note to herself. "Maybe it was fate that guy saved my life," she wondered. She then stood up and walked back to where James and Sheryl were. She was too discomposed from what had just happened to feel unhappy or to feel anything for that matter: she wended back to the couple in a daze.
As she approached them, she found James and Sheryl to be arguing over something.
"Why don't you quit your job and start your own business?" demanded Sheryl, "Everyone knows you're the best mechanic in this town."
"I can't do it," James answered back, physically as well as mentally squirming before his girlfriend, "No bank is going to loan me the money, I have no business plan, I've got no business sense."
"You're always telling me how you wish you could open up your own repair shop; that you could do a whole lot better job than anyone else in these parts, so why don't you?" said Sheryl, grilling James now.
"I can't take the risk," he responded, obviously frustrated at his situation. He knew he had the ability and he knew he had the desire. It was just fear of failure that was holding him back. "What if I fail?" he asked her, "What will I do then? I can't take that kind of risk. I've got a good job now so why take the chance of losing what I've got? I'm not starting a business of my own and that's final," he said, laying down the law.
James noticed Sheryl looking up past him rather than at him and he turned his head. Seeing Mirabelle, he terminated the argument and focused his attention on her. Noticing the wet legs of her jeans, he asked her, "Anything interesting happen, Miry?"
"No," she replied, uncertain it was true. She stood behind James feeling still out of it, still stunned.
"Well, let's head on back then," said James, upon which the trio packed their things and headed for the car.
