Fisher's Light: Worth The Trip Part 2

Dropping my hand from the photo, I head back over to the couch and ease my tired body slowly back down on the cus.h.i.+ons. Picking up my pen and paper, I write about the day that made Bevy hate everything about this beautiful island we called home and the moment in time that started me on my path to falling in love with Beverly O'Byrne.

Fear makes you see things that you never even noticed, things that were right in front of you the whole time. The fear of losing Bevy changed everything for me.

Chapter 7.

March 1951 A wadded up piece of paper smacks me square in the chest and I drop my pencil, shooting Bevy a dirty look across the kitchen table as she laughs. I just got home from work at the bank. As usual, I'd brought work home and I have a bunch of things to add to the ledgers before I can relax. Bevy is supposed to be studying for a test tomorrow, but she keeps interrupting me. Billy, who's sitting next to Bevy, wads up another piece of paper and throws it at me. Neither one of them can be serious for five minutes.

After Billy and I graduated last year, I went to work with my father at the bank straightaway and have been slowly dying inside since. Billy took a job working construction on the mainland and has been taking the ferry back and forth every day. The project he's working on now is a hotel in downtown Beaufort, and he comes home with his hands covered with dirt and grime and his s.h.i.+rt sweat-stained. Glancing down at my perfectly pressed dress s.h.i.+rt and my clean hands, I curse under my breath. I've never wanted to switch places with anyone more in my life than I do with Billy right now. He gets to be out in the suns.h.i.+ne all day long while I'm stuck in a cold, dark office, staring at numbers for so long that I'm pretty sure I'm going cross-eyed.

"I'm tired of studying for this stupid Geometry test. Let's go for a walk or something," Bevy complains, leaning back in the kitchen chair to stare out of the small window next to her. "We should go inside the lighthouse so I can practice my solo for this weekend. I love the echo in that place."

Billy and I share a look as Bevy turns to face us.

"What? What's wrong with that? Do you guys have a better idea?" she asks.

"Better than sitting there listening to you screech while my ears bleed?" Billy jokes.

Bevy wads up another piece of paper and throws this one right at Billy's face.

"I do NOT screech, you jerk!"

I laugh right along with Billy, even if Bevy is right. She definitely doesn't screech. Her voice is like an angel, and even though I'd never tell another soul, I get all warm inside when I see her close her eyes and sing. It's embarra.s.sing and definitely not something I need anyone else knowing. Bevy is my friend. I don't understand the feelings that come over me when I hear her sing. It makes me feel like I need to hold her hand, wrap her up in my arms and all of the other things boyfriends do. She's only a junior in high school and from what I've heard, has plenty of boys chasing after her. As a grown man with a job and responsibilities, I have no business feeling like this for a high school girl, especially one who's my best friend.

"You know, speaking of your screeching," Billy says, laughing and s.h.i.+elding his face with his hands as Bevy readies another piece of paper to lob at him, "I saw a flier in town about an open mic night at a club on the mainland next weekend. It's at the Uptown Lounge and anyone can get up and sing. You have to be eighteen to get in, but a guy we went to school with works the door. I bet I could get him to let you in."

I watch as Bevy's face lights up and her eyes sparkle. I've heard of the Uptown Lounge. Loud music, lots of drinking and plenty of unsavory characters and goings-on, it's definitely not a place for the likes of my sweet, innocent Bevy. I can just picture her standing up on stage, looking all pretty and singing her heart out while drunken men in the audience yell crude things to her. There's no way I'm going to let that happen.

"You're not singing at the Uptown Lounge," I tell her, picking up my pencil and going back to my work.

Bevy leans forward and rests her arms on the table. "What do you mean, I'm not singing at the Uptown Lounge? You can't tell me what to do, Trip Fisher. I'm seventeen years old and if I want to sing at a lounge, I'm going to sing at a lounge. You heard Billy, he knows someone who can get us in. Right, Billy?"

I give Billy a look that clearly says shut your mouth and don't encourage her, but he ignores me.

"Yep, John Gates. You remember him, don't you, Trip? He was on our basketball team in the ninth grade."

I shake my head and sigh. "Oh, you mean the John Gates who dropped out of school in tenth grade to rob liquor stores and race dragsters? Yes, he sounds like the exact person I want doing Bevy a favor."

I glance over at Bevy and she's still glaring at me. The sun is s.h.i.+ning brightly through the window next to her, making her look even more like an angel than ever before. She did something different to her hair today. Instead of her usual ponytail, her hair is hanging long and curly all around her face. She looks...pretty. I've always thought Bevy had a nice face, but there's just something about her today and I can't stop staring. She purses her lips and I wonder what it would be like to kiss her, causing a fluttering feeling in my stomach that is almost instantly replaced by horror. I've got no business thinking about my friend this way when I've been dating Kathy Sanders. Kathy moved to the island a few months ago and we've been to the movies and to dinner every weekend since the day she came into the bank with her mother. Why am I thinking about kissing Bevy when I've got a perfectly nice, beautiful girlfriend? Stupid Bevy and her stupid, pretty face.

"You don't want to go to that club, Bevy. It's dirty and it's not the type of place you want to sing. Finish studying so I can get this work done and then we can do something fun."

She sighs and everything goes back to normal. I try to concentrate on the ledger instead of Bevy's fresh, floral scent. I think about checks and balances and refuse to stare as Bevy tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, wondering if her hair is soft and smooth now that it's not pulled back into a tight ponytail.

I listen to Billy mutter under his breath about how stupid Geometry is and how Bevy will never use it when she's older, so there's no point in studying. Bevy crosses her legs under the table, one of them sliding gently against mine. I start to break out in a cold sweat and my pencil falls from my hand and clatters to the table. Bevy looks up at me in confusion right when the telephone rings in the living room.

Bevy opens her mouth, most likely to ask me why I'm staring at her like a fool, when we hear my mother shout in agony from the other room. All three of us jump up from the table and race to the living room, finding her crumpled on the floor next to the end table, sobbing. I've never seen my mother break down like this and my feet feel like they're glued to the floor. Bevy rushes over to her, bends down and wraps her arms around my mother's shoulders. I watch as my mother turns and holds Bevy's face in her hands while the tears stream down her cheeks.

"Bevy, oh, my sweet Bevy," my mother whispers through her tears. "I'm so sorry, honey. I'm so sorry. Your mother...it's your mother."

Bevy shakes her head back and forth in denial while Billy and I continue to stand in the doorway, watching the scene unfold in front of us like spectators at a baseball game.

Bevy has always clung to the hope that one day her mother would snap out of her depression, that she'd eventually pull up the shades, let the sunlight in and begin living again. Based on my mother's announcement, I have a feeling that's never going to happen.

"She's gone, Bevy. I'm so sorry," my mother tells her softly.

"How? I...HOW? I just saw her this morning before school and she was fine," Bevy whispers in confusion. "I mean, she was in bed, like always, but she actually smiled at me when I went in to tell her good-bye before I left. She was fine. I just saw her and she was FINE!"

Her voice gets louder and my mother closes her eyes for a few moments before opening them back up to stare sadly at Bevy. "She took her own life, honey."

At my mother's words, I watch Bevy's shoulders fall and it's almost like watching the life drain right out of her. She quickly stands up and backs away. My mother quickly gets up and reaches for her, but Bevy shrugs out of her reach.

I take a step in Bevy's direction, but I have no idea what to do. I didn't know how to help her when I was nine and her brother was killed, and I'm even more clueless at nineteen now that her mother is gone.

Without a word, Bevy turns and runs past me, the front door slamming closed behind her.

"Go on, you go after Bevy and I'll call your dad," Billy tells me as I look back and forth between the front door and my mother.

"It's okay, Trip. Go to Bevy, she needs you. I'll be fine," my mother says as she wipes the tears from her cheeks.

Even though Mrs. O'Byrne's depression tore their friends.h.i.+p apart, my mother never stopped trying. She still went to Bevy's house several times a week in an attempt to bring her friend back to her. Part of me wants to stay with my mother, but I know I can't help her. I don't know if I can help Bevy, either, but I need to try.

Giving my mom a quick hug, I take off, instinctively heading towards the lighthouse. I immediately see Bevy's footprints in the sand and I'm thankful that I know her so well. A few minutes later, I find her sitting at the base of the lighthouse with her legs pulled up to her chest and her head buried in her knees. I walk up to her slowly so I don't scare her and take a seat on the sand next to her.

Listening to her soft, m.u.f.fled cries, I want to scream and throw something. I can't stand Bevy hurting like this. I want to go back to twenty minutes ago, when she was throwing paper and irritated with me.

"I'm sorry, Bevy. I'm so sorry," I tell her, not sure of what else to say.

"I HATE this place. I hate this d.a.m.n island!" she suddenly shouts, pus.h.i.+ng up from the sand and stalking towards the water's edge.

I scramble up and follow her, shocked at her anger and hearing her curse.

She picks up a large rock from the sand and throws it as hard as she can into the water, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"I HATE THIS PLACE! I WANT TO LEAVE AND NEVER COME BACK!"

My mouth drops open in shock as Bevy continues picking up rocks and throwing them angrily into the waves.

"You don't mean that," I mutter as she continues to shout her hatred about the beautiful place we live.

She whirls around angrily and glares at me. "Of course I mean it! Everywhere I look, this stupid place is filled with sadness. I've had to walk around this island with Benjamin's ghost on my heels for years, and now I'll have to do the same thing with my mother. I hate it here. I hate it here so much! Why wasn't I enough for her? What is so wrong with me that she couldn't love me enough and STAY?!"

Her anger immediately dies and she crumbles right in front of me. I fly forward and catch her in my arms before she hits the sand, pulling her close and wrapping my arms around her while she sobs into my shoulder.

I hug her tightly to me and rock us gently back and forth, trying to soothe her cries.

She feels so good in my arms that for a second, I almost forget her mother just died and she wants to leave the island, that she wants to leave ME behind. Her floral scent wraps around me and she slides her arms around my waist, making my heart skip a beat. I run my hand down the back of her head, finding her hair just as soft as I thought it would be.

"You are MORE than enough, Bevy. You are beautiful and smart, funny and courageous. Don't you ever think for one second that there is anything wrong with you," I tell her as I hug her even tighter. "You are loved, Bevy. You are loved so much."

She cries harder and I tell her I'll do anything to make it better. I promise her we can go anywhere and do anything she wants. I tell her that no matter what, I will always be here for her. I will never leave her like her brother and her mother and I mean it with everything inside of me. Wherever Beverly O'Byrne goes, I will follow.

I feel my heart beating in tune with Bevy's as our chests press tightly together and we continue holding onto each other as the sun sets over the horizon and her tears finally subside.

I refuse to let go of her, even though she's not crying anymore, and I think about a line in a movie Bevy dragged me to a few months ago. Something about how your heart beats for another person. I remember Bevy punching me in the arm and shus.h.i.+ng me as I laughed over the actor's words, but in this moment, they make perfect sense and I absolutely understand the sentiment. I feel like my heart is only beating now because of the girl in my arms and I wonder if this is what love feels like.

Chapter 8.

Mrs. O'Byrne woke up on March 19, 1951 and decided she could no longer take the grief of living without her son. After ten long years, she'd had enough. When Mr. O'Byrne left for work and Bevy headed to school, she loaded Mr. O'Byrne's Smith and Wesson .38 Special, put it in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

Bevy, true to her word, wanted away from Fisher's Island and would have done anything to make it happen, including sneaking out of her bedroom window one Friday night, taking the ferry to the mainland and singing at the Uptown Lounge. She knew how I felt about that place and her singing there and thought it best not to include me in her plans. Since Billy was in on her little adventure and even accompanied her so she wouldn't be alone, I refused to speak to either one of them for weeks after I found out. I tried to tell myself that I was only angry because Bevy could have been hurt in that seedy joint, but to be honest, I was jealous. Jealous because, for the first time in our lives, she'd kept something from me. She didn't trust me with her secret and it killed me. I turned into such an a.s.shole, I'm surprised Bevy never punched me in the face.

I wasn't able to ignore my best friend for long, but that didn't mean things between us weren't completely different. For the next year, the teasing of our younger years was back in full force. I picked on her whenever I could, and looking back now, I did a lot of things with the intention of making HER jealous. Of course, it all came back to bite me in the a.s.s in the end. I was angry at Bevy for her constant chatter about how she couldn't wait to leave the island and I was angry that my feelings for her were changing and she didn't even seem to notice. Every day I spent with her for the next year, I made fun of stupid, little things, when all I really wanted to do was tell her that I thought I was falling in love with her.

"Your hair looks really dumb like that."

It's s.h.i.+ny and beautiful and I want to run my fingers through it.

"You're wearing THAT just to go for a walk? You look ridiculous."

You should wear blue dresses all the time because they make your eyes sparkle and you look beautiful in them.

"Uuugggh, fine, take my hand. I guess I can help you up the rocks."

Hold my hand forever and never let go.

Flipping to the next page in the alb.u.m, I smile down at the picture of Bevy looking more beautiful than I had ever seen her. She's smiling brightly at the camera and I look like a schmuck as I stare at her. It really is a great picture, but I remember hating my mother when she had it developed and couldn't stop laughing. She handed it to me and said "This, right here, is where I think you finally saw what has been right in front of you this entire time."

Little did my mother know, I'd seen it a while ago, but that moment is where it finally occurred to me just what I was looking at my future.

Chapter 9.

May 1952 Leaning against my car with my arms crossed, I try not to make it too obvious that I've been staring at Bevy since she walked out of school and started talking with a group of her friends a few feet away. I give her a ride home from school whenever I get out of the bank early and the best part of my day is standing here in front of the school and watching her before she sees me. I can't help but be mesmerized by Bevy with her head thrown back in laughter, as if she doesn't have a care in the world.

Her pretty hair is pulled up into a ponytail and I watch as she tucks a stray piece of her long bangs behind one ear, an unconscious move that I've seen her do a thousand times over the years, but one I've secretly become enamored with lately. The sound of her laughter surrounds me and Billy smacks me on the back before she notices that I'm staring at her like a lovesick fool.

"Did you pick me up from the ferry just so I could watch you moon all over Bevy?"

I clear my throat and look away from her, studying a very interesting rock down by my feet.

"Shut up or I'll make you walk home," I warn him.

It's Bevy's senior year of high school, and there's only a handful of weeks left until graduation and one week until her senior prom. Every day I pick her up from school, I hold my breath and wait to hear her tell me that some jerk has asked her to the dance. As much as I want to ask Bevy to go with me, it just wouldn't be right. I graduated two years ago. How silly would I look going to a high school dance? Age difference notwithstanding, I've been a complete jerk to her lately and she'd probably laugh in my face. Instead of telling her how I feel, I've done the exact opposite and made it seem like I don't care about her at all.

I want to laugh at myself for even entertaining the idea of asking her to prom. I've been dating Kathy off and on for a year now, but I'd never asked her to go steady and I heard she went on a date with someone else last week. It must not have gone well, because she was certainly hinting around my asking her back out when I ran into her in town yesterday. I like Kathy well enough, she's a nice girl and okay to hang out with, but I can't see myself spending the rest of my life with her. There's only one girl I could imagine playing that big of a role in my future and she's standing a few feet away. That thought has grown so big over the last year, I'm surprised I'm able to think about anything else.

Since Mrs. O'Bryne's death, Bevy has been focused on singing and consumed by thoughts of becoming a big star. It's all she ever talks about, and I know if I don't make my move soon, she's really going to leave and I might never see her again. With graduation so close, it's only a matter of time before she takes off. I can't let her do that without letting her know how I feel.

"Will you just quit being an idiot and ask her out already?" Billy says loudly, making me jump and stare at him in shock.

"What? What are you talking about? Ask who what?" I reply, pulling my car keys out of my pocket and fiddling with them.

"Oh, give it a rest, Trip!" Billy says with a laugh. "You might be able to hide it from her, but you can't hide it from me. I see the way you're always staring at Bevy, smiling like an idiot when she says something nice to you and going out of your way to pretend like you don't care."

I try not to blush and roll my eyes at him instead. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Billy continues laughing and shakes his head at me.

"If you say one word to her, I'll never speak to you again," I threaten.

Billy holds his hands up in surrender. "Jeez, I promise, I promise. "Prom is only a week away. If you want to take Bevy, you better hurry up and ask before some other guy beats you to it and steals her away."

"Bevy isn't going to go to the dance," I scoff, trying really hard to make myself believe what I'm saying. "She hates dances and besides, no one has asked her yet."

"I heard Bob Miller is going to ask her."

My eyes widen and my mouth drops open in shock. Bob Miller is a jerk. He was a jerk when Billy and I were in school and word around town is that he's gotten worse. He goes out with a new girl every week and there's talk that he likes to take them parking in his car. As soon as he gets some time alone with them, he dumps them and moves on to the next girl. I'm not going to allow my Bevy to become one of his "girls."

Just then, Bevy says goodbye to her friends and bounces over to us, her long hair swis.h.i.+ng back and forth behind her head as she stops in front of me.

"I hate Mrs. Goran. I swear she calls on me every time I don't know an answer. It's like she's a mind reader and does it on purpose. If I don't study for the Chemistry test tomorrow, I'm going to be in big trouble," she rambles as I stare over her shoulder and see Bob Miller headed this way.

Bevy waves her hand in front of my face to get my attention. "h.e.l.lo? Earth to Trip."

Bob is walking faster and my stomach suddenly plummets to my feet. It's now or never.