Charlie St. Cloud Page 0,44
or something?”
“It was getting late, I guess. It was only our first date.”
“You think she got spooked by the cemetery?”
“No, she doesn’t scare easily.”
“Maybe you bored her to death with all your usual stuff about clouds.”
“Very funny.”
Sam poked at one of the nails in a post. Oscar brought the ball back and sat down for a rest, his tail thumping the boards. “What’s a real kiss feel like?” Sam asked. He plopped down on the dock next to his beagle. “You know, a kiss with all the works.”
“All the works?” Charlie smiled at his kid brother. Even though all those years had gone by since the accident, Sam remained twelve years old, forever asking innocent questions about the things in life that he would never know. He could have moved on to the next level and opened himself up to all the wisdom and enlightenment in the universe, but he chose to stay.
“There’s nothing like it,” Charlie said, “and there are a zillion different kinds. Some are exciting and sexy and—”
“Slippery?”
“I can’t do this.”
“C’mon. I wanna know!”
Charlie had to think. A kiss? How do you explain a kiss? “Remember that Little League game when you played the Giants?”
“Yup.”
“Tell me the story.”
Sam grinned. “We were down four to one in the last inning. I came to the plate with two outs, the bases loaded, and Gizzy Graves was on the mound. I missed the first two pitches by about a mile. The shortstop started laughing at me, but I smashed the next pitch over the left-field fence for a home run.”
“And how’d it feel?”
“Best thing in the world.”
“That’s a kiss, minus the bat.”
Sam laughed. “And minus Gizzy Graves.”
“Exactly.”
Charlie watched his little brother and felt the hurt. In the abstract, Sam understood the concept of the perfect kiss, but actually experiencing one was entirely different. Charlie was suddenly swept up in all the amazing things Sam was going to miss. He had been cheated of so much.
And then Charlie noticed an older woman coming down the hill from the cemetery, picking her way between the tombstones. It was Mrs. Phipps, and Charlie could see that she was already beginning to fade away. Sometimes it happened quickly; other times it took a few days or weeks. Folks seemed to move on when they were ready. The soft morning light was glinting right through her. Gone were the black dress, stockings, and pointy shoes. Now she was wearing a pink frock with a matching pillbox hat and silver boots. The lines in her face had softened. Her skin was smooth, and her hair was darker. She seemed neither young nor old but a perfect balance of the two. Charlie recognized the transformation. This was the way Mrs. Phipps wanted to see herself. It was a shimmering reflection of the past and present as well as a projection of the future. It was the combination of who she had once been and who she always hoped to be. It was always this way when folks crossed over.
“Good morning,” she said, stepping onto the dock.
“You’re looking lovely, Mrs. Phipps,” Charlie said. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better. I guess the shock has worn off, just like you said it would.”
Charlie motioned to his brother to stand up out of respect. “Mrs. Phipps, this is my brother, Sam.”
“How do you do?”
“Hi,” Sam said. “Nice hat.”
She tilted her head. “I wore this on the day my sweet Walter asked me to marry him.” She was smiling. “You know, I just hated that old black dress they stuck me in at the funeral home. Don’t know why my daughter picked it out of the closet. It’s hardly how I want to look when I see my husband again.”
Charlie knew she was ready, and sure enough she said, “I just wanted to stop by and say farewell. It’s time for me to go. He’s waiting for me.” She reached out with her shimmering hand. “Good-bye and thank you.”
“Good luck,” Charlie said.
“Bye,” Sam added.
Mrs. Phipps walked away and was almost transparent by the time she reached the end of the dock. Then a horn hooted on the water. Joe was steering his boat into the cove.
“Ahoy,” he said. He was wearing a Bruins cap turned backward, a red checked shirt, and jeans. “Top of the morning to you.”
Charlie waved, then mumbled to his little brother, “Gotta go.”
“See you at sundown,” Sam said, scooping up Oscar.
Charlie jumped onto the boat, and Joe pushed forward on the throttle. He aimed for the wharf across