Page 46 of Phoenix Fire

He walked on through the tangled brush and detritus, anxious now to catch up with his life, anxious to see Jenny and Grandma Myrena, anxious to proceed with 'Apple Brown Betty.' In his thirst and weariness, hope came to him.

The high desert air became cooler as time passed, and the crunching sound of his feet on the ancient sand mingled with the subtle, near inaudible movements of indigenous fauna. Jason wondered about the unseen eyes that would be monitoring his jagged movements.

Chapter Thirty

Jenny had talked to the Scottsdale police. She had not known what kind of car Jason was driving, but, through computer checks, the police had determined the make and model. Jenny had provided personal vitae about Jason that might be helpful. Because of Myrena's and Jason's stature in the community, the Scottsdale Police Department had assured Jenny that the search would receive high priority.

After talking to the Scottsdale authorities Jenny had returned to the hospital. She kept Myrena company during the intervals between all the testing that was being done. Finally, Myrena had insisted that Jenny leave for some needed rest and handling of personal business.

Just before Jenny left the hospital, Wardley had arrived. He had brought a couple of items that Myrena had requested. He stayed on for a while to visit. Wardley was clearly distressed by Myrena's dire health problems, and Jenny suspected that he might even be a little lonely. He truly was part of the family.

Jenny went mechanically through time and space, spending much of the evening writing checks for past due bills, cleaning an already neat and uncluttered apartment. During the next day she kept busy with amendments to work projects, talking and meeting with coworkers and clients. All activities seemed to have a robotic sameness, performed beneath an always present cloud of worry and concern for Jason and for Grandma Myrena. She silently chanted the lovely phrase her father had given her … 'butterflies and jellybeans.'

The hours passed slowly. A day. A surfeit dullness settled in. Time passed, not a lot in mortal terms but still tedious and cumbersome ... time, stretching, yawning, in its sometime dull drumming design and uniformity.

The telephone would ring at home and at work, breaking the routine, sparking hope, only to become a part of the pulsing, marking of time. Time, honored and respected, sacred and not to be wasted, clung to with passion by the old and the dreamer, was now to Jenny a dimension that she could not consolidate into her mind. She wanted that time would fast forward to her reunion with Jason or to whatever dubious destiny she awaited. The waiting, the uncertainty, was a palpable and painful thing.

When Jenny really thought about it, time was the controller of us all. Without time, we would not exist. Time could march along at any speed it wished and smirk at us all. Time manipulated us all. We wanted it to pass quickly so our fun time could start. We wanted it to pass slowly to delay old age and sorrow. Time was the supreme arbiter of us all. It was a concept much like the chicken and the egg conundrum. Jenny wondered about eternity where time would be no more, only to return to the chicken and the egg.

Jenny called home to Kansas, spoke to her father and mother, presented a cheery chatter of trivial monologues. Then, during the family phone conversation, it would come to her that someone, Jason, the police, might be trying to reach her, and she would end the call.

An hour later Jenny called her old school chums, Allie Freestone and Fancy Aniston. Again, there was happy chit chat veiling her fret and worry, punctuated by a sudden impulse to hang up.

Jenny's boss and coworkers sensed something was wrong. They gave her space and interrupted her thoughts only when it was necessary to do so. Jenny was conscious of their subtle patience and empathy and felt a special fondness for them.

She checked in often with the Scottsdale Police Department, perhaps too often from their perspective. Yet, the people with whom she talked at SPD were cordial and patient, advising her that she would be notified just as soon as something was known.

So she moved with the great manipulator called time, her thoughts both tormenting and hopeful. So much had happened in her life in such a short span of her existence. She had gone to the lightning edge of death and back, had found an inner peace from the awesome experience. She had fallen in love with Jason and had gone to the far side of ecstasy, only to be abruptly stopped short by the fickle hand of fate. The man she loved was now facing the crucible of a tragic sibling death, and she could not help him.

She fought against a recurring image of Jason in some terrible limbo of anguish and doubt. Jason was strong, she knew, but he was also human and had the capacity for deep hurt. No matter how much and how diligently she busied herself, she could not keep the torturous thoughts away. She was in some sort of time and space warp, like the second hand on a grandfather clock stuck in one twitching and unyielding position.

In her abbreviated telephone conversation with her parents, her father had sensed a dilemma within his daughter and had reminded her of another time in younger life, a time when she had lost Happy, her cocker spaniel, to some deadly fungi. When the vet had put Happy to sleep, Jenny thought she would die from grief. Her father had worked so hard to ease and erase her inner pain. He had made special time for her, had moved with her through the tender realm of sorrow and, with fatherly love and patience, had finally brought her back to a soft and tentative place within her fragile psyche.

Jenny smiled as the phrase again came to her, 'butterflies and jellybeans,' the exclusive band aid for a child's world of hurt. Happy was so much of her childhood and she had resolved his passing, his memory for her now a warm and cozy inner glow, no longer a tragedy within her soul.

The little girl was still alive within Jenny and she could feel now with adult awareness an emotion not unlike that lambent recall of a long ago time. Her heart ached now with the same wistful kind of longing, confusion, and loss. Jason had dramatically come into her life on a rain soaked jogging path and she had fallen hopelessly in love with him. In their relationship she had felt the loose elements of her life coming back to her in harmonious unity, had glimpsed the happiness and joy that her new world with Jason would hold. Her expectations were high and ethereal, an ordained and magical passage into the rest of her life. Then, fickle and capricious fate, the usurper of dreams, had come again to cast its shadow across her contentment. But she would not become a prisoner to fate's fickle shadow. She could hope. She could be patient and expectant. She could fight the dark shadow and think of 'butterflies and jellybeans' days.

On Thursday morning Jenny took Grandma Myrena home from the hospital. Surprisingly, Myrena seemed more indomitable and stronger than when she had entered the hospital. The doctor, through the results of various tests, had changed her medication again. The new medicine had less side effects and was more compatible with Myrena's biological and physiological makeup.

Wardley was almost childish in his glee to have Myrena home. He had made up a special area for her both in her beloved parlor and in the sun room, with everything imaginable she could need or want at her fingertips. There was a telephone, tissues, medicines, books, magazines, portable ice and water dispenser, the call button contraption that could reach Wardley instantaneously anywhere on the property. There were cookies and snacks that had prior approval by the doctor. Wardley was ever so attentive to detail, making sure that the spots where Myrena would recline afforded her with perfect sweeping views of the landscape outside the great windows. She was so pleased at Wardley's efforts and praised his thoughtfulness and his thoroughness.

Myrena finally opted for the sun room as it provided more light than the parlor. She would move into that larger and beloved room after the sun had gone down. She seemed in good spirits and so pleased to be home. Her smiles and her good cheer were wonderful tonic for both Wardley and Jenny.

The telephone rang just as Myrena had settled into her special place in the sun room. Wardley answered.

“Good morning, this is the Wimsley residence.”

“This is Sergeant Jefferey Henning, Scottsdale Police Department. I need to speak to Mrs. Wimsley or Ms. Mason.”

“A moment, please.” Wardley decided that it should be Jenny to take the call. “It's for you, Miss Mason. A Mr. Jefferey Henning is on the line.”

Jenny recognized the name and rushed to the phone, muttering to Myrena, “I left your number with my office. Hope it's okay.”

Myrena waved a hand in an upward motion and smiled, “Don't be silly, child.”

“This is Jenny Mason.”

“Ms. Mason, this is Jeff Henning. We talked before about ...”