Page 23 of At Her Will

He tapped his head. “It here. God give it to me when it ready to come, and I say it the way He makes me feel it.”

The trail had taken them to an open view of the water. As Vera drew in the heavy marsh scents, she saw a knoll up ahead, populated by a grove of wind-shaped junipers. The mailbox was planted inside their shelter.

A tidy border of smooth rocks and shells was around the base, a bougainvillea vine climbing the post. Two anchored benches were nearby. Small concrete animals had been tucked into the foliage. Vera suspected the whimsical pieces had been left by visitors, along with oyster shells tied to the juniper branches. They made a clinking noise in the light breeze. Many had messages written on them. It reminded her of the expression boards at the school. Proof that adults needed such things, just as children did.

The palpable energy here was laced with the poignant air of wishes voiced, dreams left to linger. As well as grief, celebration, deep thought.

“Why don’t you sit there, Mistress?” Rev pointed her to a bench as he went to the mailbox. He removed a spiral notebook and brought it to her, along with a pen. “You can look through this one while I set up our picnic.”

The purple cardboard cover was stamped with a silver fleur-de-lis. Vera opened the book in the middle, and began to read what had been left on the pages, in various handwriting styles and ink colors. Because of the humidity, the pages were a silken weight against her fingertips.

The first entry was from a girl who’d just graduated high school. She spoke of her hopes for her future, her enthusiasm for the North Carolina college she would be attending. Another page was claimed by a man grieving his father’s loss, followed by a woman dealing with cancer. Many entries expressed gratitude and pleasure for the serene space the mailbox offered.

She heard their voices in her head, people she might have passed on the streets in New Orleans—natives, transplants, tourists. Several entries were written in foreign languages.

While reading, she’d stayed aware of Rev’s movements, but when she realized there was more than lunch in the sizeable pack, she lifted her head. Next to a soft-sided cooler bag, he’d set up a half-shell sun shelter, like people used on the beach. A fabric screen attached to the front could be pulled down to keep out bugs. He’d spread a blanket on the ground inside it.

When he sat back on his heels and saw her watching, he explained. “Sometime when I come out here, I stay awhile. We stay as long as you like, but I didn’t want too much sun or the bugs to make that decision for you.”

He rose and came to her, sitting down on the ground by the bench instead of on it, one leg bent beneath him, one knee propped up. He laid his arm on the bench, in a curve that followed her hip, coiling around her without touching her, without imposing on her space. Wanting to be closer, but waiting for her to make the decision of how much closer.

“Would you read me some of the entries?” he asked.

She read him the ones she’d scanned, then several more. He looked pleased by the elated tone of those with milestones to celebrate, compassionate or sad over entries of longing and need. Like the one she read now.

“‘I don’t think I’ll ever find someone to love me.’ Just that one line,” she noted, showing it to him. “Signed by Z. Can’t tell if it’s a man or woman, or a young person. But the ink looks smeared, as if they were crying when they wrote it.”

“Maybe if we look through them other books, or come back in a few years, we’ll find another entry. Maybe they won’t be alone no more.”

“And maybe they’ll have gotten over themselves and on with their lives.”

His brow creased. “It bothers you.”

“No. Not if it’s a teenager…” The entry had kicked her in a vulnerable spot, but she would tell him what was in her mind. “There are people who get stuck on that, and waste so much energy on it. I learned a long time ago the best cure for loneliness or staying away from that abyss in human nature is giving. Helping others. It’s presumptuous to second guess the Universe’s plan for you. Like what you were saying about Moses.”

“Sometimes we ask more of life than we need to ask of it.” He nodded slowly. “We turn our back on the table that’s already laden up with food and drink, looking for what's not there. But we can’t say if this person like that. They may be out there giving, doing all you say.”

Rev put his fingers on the text, his hand brushing the tips of her fingers clasping the book. “This a place to say something deep in your heart. No judgment. Have you ever felt like that? That you have so much love you want to give someone, a special kind of love just between you and him, that will be treated as special as it should be? And you been waiting and waiting to do it…what seem like forever.”

As he stared at her, her bitterness went away, taken like sand carried by the salty wind touching her lips.

“I guilty of turning away from that table,” he admitted. “I was looking for something not there, something I needed and wanted. But I think the same God that provided what's on that table put our paths together. Because now, I thinking if that table had half as much, or nothing on it, as long as I had this one thing I’ve been wanting, I’ll be okay.”

She didn’t say anything right away. He continued to stare at her, waiting her out. Waiting for whatever she wanted.

“How private is it here?” she asked.

His fingers curled next to her hip. “We didn’t see anyone in the parking lot, so we the only ones here for a while. But I can hear people coming, and see them at that lower point in the trail.” He gestured in that direction. “Gives us a few minutes before they see us, unless they know where to look.”

“Will you serve me as I desire, Rev?”

She gazed at the shelter when she asked, not at him. There were too many things inside her right now, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see her face reflected in his eyes.

“Yes ma’am. Yes, Mistress.”

She turned her mind away from herself, and let it rest on him. In him. She could almost hear the sound of his heart thudding against his chest. When she put her hand there, a jolt went through her, especially when he put his hand over hers.

She rose, and he did too. Once she reached the shelter, she put her hand on his ready forearm to remove her socks and shoes. When she stretched out on the blanket, she lifted her hands above her. It made her body lengthen and arch under his intent gaze. He ducked into the shelter with her, letting the screen fall against his back. One knee pressed into the blanket next to her hips.

---