Crystal's StorySite storysite.org

brief explanation;
This story is a mixed vision, fantasy and reality, the core of which was a dream I’ve experienced on and off over the years. Within this work of fiction are many truths merged with make believe including idealized representations of people I know and respect. The wrap is pure fancy, a thought brought to what I hope is a reasonable conclusion.

In the words of one of my favorite authors, Douglas Adams "Share and Enjoy."

 

Embers Dying, Spark the Flame
by: Way Zim

 

It’s to be understood, as Charles Dickens once said, that William Zane was as dead as a door nail. As with Old Scrooges’ partner; Marley, if this were not so then nothing wondrous could come from the telling of his brief moment in the sun or his too soon demise.

He’d died at his drawing table, a half finished painting beneath him, which; oddly enough, the magazine for which he designed it insisted upon printing the piece as is. As apparently well regarded as William was among his peers; within the three short years between his sudden fame at age forty one and equally sudden death, the only mourners at his memorial were his immediate family and a single friend.

Her name was Dana Wilson, a waitress at the Surf n Steak; a steak and seafood restaurant in Medford, New Jersey. She was petite in stature, a borderline beauty with orange-red straight hair which nicely framed the narrow face. Perhaps attractive only at second glance but for her sea green eyes which drew immediate attention to her perpetually bemused face.

Perhaps, in the end, Dana had been the one person who’d really understood what hard ships William had gone through to get even this far. The victory which he’d achieved even as a sudden stroke took him, the artist standing on the edge of success.

Dana claimed no real relationship with him, apart from a single night of comfort after her painful divorce from her husband of nine years. But at work and the several times they’d had drinks together, he’d shared with her a confidence which even his mother; whom he’d remained close to well into his adult years, did not know.

How closer could two people get than that?

For whatever reason; an odd guilty or something deeper, William did not keep up more than an infrequent correspondence with Dana after his big break finally got him out of the kitchen and doing that which he truly loved, full time. She’d happily gone to a couple of his Art openings ,along with a few others from the Surf n Steak; those who’d suddenly recognized this diamond in the rough. Their association with William did not last long beyond that.

Now he was dead, a modest fortune spread among his two brothers and elder sister from investments and hoarded savings. As he’d once joked to her, ‘If you have no life, your money tends to pile up. ‘

Perhaps Dana might not have even gone to the funeral, held on the banks of the Delaware near New Hope, if not for a call from his mother. His cremains were to be scattered near the same spot where they’d dumped his father, as William had put it with a sad smile, years earlier.

"My son had assembled a list of people to contact. " she’d told Ms Wilson over the phone. "Just in case this happened. I guess he thought they might want to pay last respects. "

She’d gone, the lone mourner apart from siblings, mother and a couple cousins. Apparently they’d not known him, even now, the moment given as much to surprise as shock or open grief. Of the others on the list, no one showed but Dana.

If the day was not weird enough already for Dana, she came home to find a message on her phone machine. It was from a Jason Thorton, a reporter with ‘Art World.‘ magazine, asking her to please call as soon as possible. She deleted the message without thinking to answer it.

Two days later, she had a hectic night at the restaurant, the normal chaos compounded by a male customer who sat alone at a small table near the hostess stand. He was nice enough looking, urban was the word, dressed in stylish casual tan pullover sweater and light brown slacks.

Being a waitress as well as an attractive woman meant that outright jerks and self styled players were constantly putting the moves on her but this was different. This guy was content to simply watch her work, a low level vibe of patience seeming to radiate from him. As he poised no threat and she was busy with her own tables, Dana thought to ask one of the other servers about him later. She forgot.

Later on some of the girls made their routine pilgrimage to Bradys’ Pub to unwind. It was Girls’ Night out after a crappy evening of horrible customers and bad tips. Still, Dana couldn’t join in the drunken bacchanal, her thoughts constantly drifting back to the funeral.

Though she and William had been about the same age, he’d affected a sort of deliberate naivete toward the world in general. It was less that of a child-man then a calculated informed romantic.

"Hey. " one of her friends; Julie Tanner, gently hit Dana on her arm. "You have an admirer down at the other end of the bar. He just bought you a drink, if you hadn’t noticed already. "

She looked where Julie pointed, isolating the familiar male out of the mob. Despite his soft smile, a mildly good looking surfer boy face, Dana felt oddly violated that he would intrude on her privacy like this.

"So? what are you going to do, girlfriend? " teased the other waitress. "He is a Hottie. "

"Tell him to go play with himself. " Dana told her, surprised at this anger she felt. It was out of the blue and unrelated to anything she could put a finger on, directed at a stranger who likely meant no harm...

He nodded to her as she approached. "Mrs. Wilson... " he started to say.

"Why are you following me?! " she demanded harshly. "First the restaurant and then here. Are you some kind of creep?! "

"Uh.... " his smile vanished, a look of startled confusion come over his handsome features. "You.. You didn’t return my call and I thought I’d come by to find out why. " he stammered.

"Your phone call.... " for a moment she blanked, too many thoughts charging through her mind at the same time. Who’d left messages over the last couple days? "Oh shit. You’re not Mr. Thorton, are you? "

"That’s me. " he replied with good natured understanding at her confusion. "I need to talk with you about William Zane, for an article I’m writing. "

"You are a creep. "

‘I’m sorry you think so, Mrs. Wilson " he countered as her friends watched this strange confrontation from the other end of the room. " ‘Art World. ‘ is an prestige magazine with a global readership. I can promise you it doesn’t hire hacks. "

"It’s Ms Wilson, I’m been divorced for awhile. " Dana answered, still annoyed at him. "I don’t think I want to talk with you. "

"Look, " Jason grinned sheepishly, both amused and embarrassed. "Just give me a few minutes of your time, please. I’ll do the talking and if you’re not satisfied I’m legit, I’ll walk. Fair enough? "

The angry redhead felt her resistance slip a few notches at his polite request. "You have five minutes, Mr. Thorton... " "Jason, please. " "Mr. Thorton. "

"I’ve been with ‘Art World. ‘ for almost eight years now. " Jason explained. "I’ve written about practically every illustrator, alive and dead, during that time but never encountered anyone like your boyfriend.. "

"He wasn’t my boyfriend, Mr. Thorton. Just a friend. " Dana scolded him, the writer having the good sense to blush slightly at her reproach. "I wasn’t implying anything by that, Ms Wilson. " he told her apologetically. Jason tried again.

"I’m going to recite some history and you tell me right or wrong. Fair enough? "

"You go on, I’ll decide. " she countered. "Remember that you’re on the clock. "

"William Zane was born in 1961 into a military family, well traveled almost from birth until high school when his father retired into the private sector. Not much going on there until he entered the Art Institute of Philadelphia, fall of 82. " the reporter recited, pulling a small notebook from his back pocket.

"Correct. ‘ she answered simply with a neutral voice. Jason stopped a smile from coming, taking her stubbornness in stride.

"The only information we have, from his graduation three years later until his return from a short stint on the West Coast, is sketchy at best. " he continued. "Apparently he had some personal problems... "

"His problem was that he loved his craft enough to endure years of bullshit from you guys! No real respect, even from the few people who keep asking for freebies for their shit publications!" she exclaimed, suddenly realizing how deep William’s absence affected her. Wasted time and the stupid distance between them.

"I’m so sorry. " he told her, seeing the deep hurt in those impossibly compelling eyes. "I can be an idiot when I’m working. I didn’t understand how hard this was for you. I’ll go. "

He didn’t touch her, even as tears, held back til now, flooded down Danas’ soft cheeks. But as Jason started past her, he pressed a business card into her hand. "If you want to talk... "

"To interview me... ? " she sneered and Jason shook his head. "Just talk. I think maybe that’s what you need right now and I’m a good listener, even off the job. "

He left, without another word, for which she was ridiculously grateful. As she returned to where Julie sat, the other woman saw the streaked makeup. "Did he do something, honey? " she demanded with sisterly concern.

"It’s okay. " Dana responded, pulling out a compact to check her face. "Something he said just reminded me of Will... "

Even as Julie hugged her, Dana kept thinking about Will... and Jason. "

*

"I have a question for you, Jason. " asked the husky feminine voice at the other end of the phone line as the journalist sat on his hotel bed. "When the hell are you going to do a wrap on the William Zane article and come back to New York? How many days do you need for a career spanning just three years? "

"It’s the before which bothers me, Nancy. " he told his boss, slightly frustrated. This Zane thing, a deceptively simple research assignment had turned into an albatross which yielded more questions than answers. "I mean, fifteen years as not even a Blip as an artist. He was moderately competent as a draftsman, but only did on and off work for little one shot businesses, for Christ’s sake. "

"Exactly. " she told him with a fond maternal patience. Her best boy did good work in his write-ups, concise and informative without boring the reader. "So what’s the problem? "

"I just smell a Helga behind all this bullshit. " he responded earnestly. "A mystery woman who somehow pulled William Zane out of obscurity and into the limelight. You recall that oil painting he did for the cover of the Herman Melville retrospective? ‘Widow Waiting? ‘ "

" ‘She stands in vain for the sea to bring her news of her lost love. ‘ It was a very striking piece. " Nancy answered. "It highlighted his over-all Impressionist approach to the field of Fantasy art. Everyone thought it a good counter to the usual Pyle or Wyeth technique for this type of illustration."

"I think the woman standing on the cliff might have been his inspiration. " Jason explained. " We only see a small bit of her face; turned to look out over the stormy sea, the rest masked by a flood of raven black hair tumbling down. I believe I can find the real life model. You think that might be worth a larger spread then the page and a quarter we talked about? "

"It might. " agreed his employer . "But I can’t spare you too long to chase phantoms. I have several assignments here which were marked ‘ Urgent. ‘ as of yesterday. How much more time do you think you might need? "

Before Jason could answer, the pager beeped and he excused himself to glance down at the number. The slightest smile crossed his lips as Jason spoke into the receiver. "If you can give me a few more days, I have someone who I think might be able to tell me all about our Female Svengali. How about it? "

"I’m serious about this, Jason. " Nancy warned him in earnest. "I can give you five days at the max. Just keep me informed, okay? "

"Sure thing. " he told her. "Look, I have to go now but I’ll call you tomorrow. All right? "

"Fine. " she responded absently, her mind already on the next crisis. "And Jason? I really do hope you find something really provocative for the magazine. "

As she hung up, he pressed the disconnect and began to dial the new number.

*

They met for coffee at Starbucks’ in the Barnes’ n Nobles store on Rt. 70. Dana was not sure why she’d agreed to talk with Jason Thorton. Part of her knew he was in it for the story, but another; captivated by that odd spark in his dark eyes, thought perhaps he might just be the one to confide in.

"I need you to promise me something, Mr. Thorton. " her stern opening gambit and unsmiling expression caught Jason off-guard, just as he thought to offer her the seat opposite him at the small table.

He’d seen a part of this maternal streak in Dana from the night before, wondering at her casual dismissal of any deeper relationship with Zane. But the tiger which was only glimpsed yesterday was out in full force this morning.

"If I can. " he answered honestly.

"No notepad or mini recorder or whatever you reporters use. " she cautioned. "For the moment, this isn’t an interview. "

"I can’t agree not to ask questions, " he suddenly laughed to lighten the moment. He did catch a hint of a smile from her, the young woman sitting down at last. "Force of habit, sorta of. It would be rather one sided if I didn’t, don’t you think? "

"I just want you to understand that I don’t want to see some hatchet job done on Will. " Dana stared across the table, her light eyes captivating to the man even with the storm threat behind them. "He’s... He was too good a person for that. "

"I just want to understand. " Jason surprised both Dana and himself by this contrite simple declaration. He wondered at the subtle strength of the waitress/student who gazed at him with curious eyes. Was Dana Wilson, Zanes’ Helga?

"I think you might. " she responded, half daring to believe him. "But time’ll tell about that, won’t it? "

Jason listened as Dana began to talk, telling him about the eleven year relationship with William Zane. For the most part it jived with what he’d heard from others. Nine years working at the Surf n Steak as a food preparer before his first breakout painting; displayed on Zane’s WebPage, caught the attention of publishers worldwide.

He noted that when she spoke of William, it was with a sad fondness rather than the deeper grief from the night before. But even as Thorton began to think that maybe Nancy was right in her assessment of this nonstory, Dana said something which startled him.

"I don’t think that Will knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life, even after the first time he told me about Rowen. "

"Rowen? " Jason blurted out. He must have missed something from his research. There were the people Zane had worked with at the restaurant, his family and the odd associate, none named Rowen. "Did someone model for him? "

Dana was smiling; no, she was quietly laughing at the confusion on Jason’s’ face.

"I want to show you something. " she told him somewhat cryptically. "But not here and not what you think. "

"Where... ? "

"Let me do the driving, Mr. Thorton. " she interrupted. "I think you might want to see where William Zane did his real work. "

*

His place, his Temple of Solitude where the artist had lived a semi hermitage existence. It was a small condo in a well developed, modestly wooded area. Surprisingly well kept and surprising that a perspective buyer had not snatched up the two bedroom apartment.

"Wills’ family has yet to put it up on the market. " Dana explained, pulling the key out of her purse. "They still haven’t decided what to do with all his stuff, so it sits; waiting to go into storage or someone’s’ house. "

"All his things? " asked Jason as they entered. The ground level condo opened into a fair sized dining/living room combination, to his left a kitchen nook. All the furnishings seemed second hand, even after Zane had begun making enough money to refurbish the place.

"Will always had this weird attachment to his stuff. " Dana told the reporter, shaking her head in a chiding manner. "Too large clothes which had belonged to his father; a couch from his sister. Sentimental jerk. "

"And Rowen? " he had to ask but his guide didn’t take offense.

"Yes, " she remarked somewhat mischievously. "I think I should introduce you to Rowen Stewart Atwell. "

Together they opened boxes and larger crates, some containing paintings and sketch pad work which Jason had never seen before. He was taken back by the sharp contrast between the older work, some done only a few months before ‘Widow Waiting. ‘ and the twenty-odd pieces which provided the basis for the break-out portfolio.

"The problem is, " Dana complained. "that we were forever getting after Will for not putting dates on his art. He seemed to think since he’d never get anywhere, catagorizing his progress was unimportant. "

"Just what are we looking for? " asked Jason, sorting through the accumulation of fifteen years of creative furvor.

"Rowen. " she answered simply. "Half a sec, I think I’ve found her. Help me get some of this out. "

The first was a small 8.5" x 11" flat canvas with an early version of Will’s classic oil. This one, done in acrylic with a broad almost primitive style, gave Thorton more of the girls’ features. It was rough, slightly blurred as if viewed through a soft filter, but he saw the beginnings of a youthful heart shaped face with striking dark eyes.

"What’s this title? ‘Dream Twenty-five? ‘ " he asked, staring at the mystery, confusion more than revelation coming from the piece held tight in trembling hands. The waitress grinned wickedly at Thorton. "Say Hello to Wills’ inspiration, his dream girl. " she teased.

He could not respond to this news just yet, placing the piece gently against a wall then deftly pulling other related work from the open carton.

By the time they had emptied the box, thirty odd sketches, line drawings and small color pieces were set up about the studio in a crude descending order. The older art was evident by the familiar broad graphic approach Will had affected for his largely unsold work. Competent but bland in execution. But in the last twelve, there seemed an awakening of something deeper in the application of pen and pigment.

"Rowen is a fantasy? " Jason asked after a prolonged uncomfortable silence.

"A dream. " corrected Dana with gentle understanding. "But as to whether she ever existed... "

"I don’t understand. " he repeated.

"You just know the artist from his time in the spotlight. " she explained, a kind smile crossing her lips. "I want to tell you about the year before that, when Will first told me about his muse. "

*

It had been a joke, sort of, when Will had casually mentioned the dream to Dana. The nights’ business had been slow and the help relaxed, the two chatting about nothing in particular.

"You ever have reoccurring dreams, Dana? Real vivid ones?" he asked, the hazel eyes twinkling mischievously behind his wire-rim glasses.

"If you’re gonna tell me about those wet ones concerning Catherine Zeta Jones, I’m not interested. " she teased. "I get enough of that from the busboys. "

Not this time. " laughed Will shyly. "It is about a girl though. Someone I’ve been seeing for about a couple weeks now, practically every other night. "

"Let me guess, " his coworker interrupted with a good natured giggle. "She has red hair and blue eyes? "

"Jealous? " joked Will before quieting suddenly as a couple of waitresses wandered through.

Before Dana could answer his question, she was distracted by a couple late tables. By the time she got things settled, both she and Will had forgotten their conversation.

It was a few days later that Dana was reminded of their talk as the dishwasher had that odd smile he’d affected when he’d first told her of his dream girl. She couldn’t help but kid him about it.

"Your fantasy girl again? "

"It’s not you, by the way. " he laughed. "As much as I hate to tell you. "

"Now I am jealous. " the waitress had told him. "So... what’s this dream all about anyway? "

It was just a face at first, foggy as if viewed through a light mist. Glimpses of the soft dark eyes, a hint of silky pitch black hair which fell in loose playful strands across the lovely cheeks.

He learned, after a time; if he focused hard upon that image, it slowly gained a sharper clarity. Always, Will found himself close to this girl, as if leaning across her right shoulder or standing right next to her.

"She’s young, probably barely out of her teens. " Will chuckled. "But Rowen has an air of sophistication about her. "

"This Fantasy has a name? " Dana asked softly.

"The dreams are becoming less a fragmented set of images than an entire world. "his explanation was almost apologetic, as if the prep worker understood the difficulty behind describing a personal vision to someone who’d never be able to see it through his eyes.

"So, you have a place to go with the person? " she pressed carefully. "As well as a name... "

"Only recently. " William told her. "It was her bedroom. The decor seemed Victorian in style, perhaps late 1800’s? I mean, I couldn’t tell the difference between a Chesterfield and a Chest of Drawers... "

"But it looked like something out of the past. "

"She was wearing a virgin white night dress, covered by a matching dressing gown. There’s a light coming from the window to her left hand, possibly an Eastern exposure. Then someone called to her from down stairs, a deep masculine bass. "

"Husband or Father? " Dana inquired lightly, caught easily by the growing details in his narrative. Will had always been one to spin a tale out of thin air, almost improvised on the spot. Within the span of a few days, the woman had grown into a person, a tangible presence to this odd but strangely innocent man.

"I think it was her father. " he mused, distracted by memory. "We could barely hear, but he called up to her from downstairs. ‘Rowen, what are you doing? ‘ he asked her. ‘Just getting ready for bed, papa. ‘ she answered. "

"And.... ? "

"That was it. " he laughed. " That’s as far as it went before I woke. I guess we’ll just have to wait for the next installment. "

*

"How far did it go? " asked Jason, quietly intruding upon her recollections. "We’re talking about a few weeks between that first hazy glimpse of Rowen and his image of her sitting before the dressing table? "

"Far enough that I almost believed. " Dana answered with a self deprecating laugh. "But also understand that he had been dreaming of her for awhile before he decided to tell me about it. And afterwards.... "

"Afterwards? " Thorton echoed encouragingly.

"Why not ask me again tomorrow. " she murmured. "I’ve got to get to work and I have a late shift tonight, but after that I can spare all the time you want. "

"Do you want to? "

"I think so. " the waitress told him. "For some reason, I don’t know why, I believe you’re the one to best appreciate the whole story. "

As she said this, Jason felt a small twinge of guilt at her trust. What his actual reasons were seemed less pure than what Dana implied by her confidence. But even as they drove back to the diner to get his car, the reporter knew he had to see this one through.

*

"Her name is Rowen Stewart Atwell? " Nancy was faintly amused even as she rolled her eyes, unseen by Jason at the other end of the line. "And she’s a dream? "

"A very persistent one, to have lasted a year; maybe more. " he told her. "I don’t believe she’s real myself, but Dana does. "

"We have a name; possibly a date, but this girl’s not a contemporary of Mr. Zanes’? " mused his boss, almost to herself. "I suppose I could do a word-search on the Net, see if anything comes up... "

"You don’t mind if I hang out for the full five days? " He asked somewhat nervously. "I’d like to see how far this takes me. "

"I don’t mind. " Nancy answered cautiously. "Just remember our agreement, okay?"

"I wrap it up by the deadline, regardless, I know. " he returned. But even as she hung up, he wondered if five days would be enough.

*

"Not very private. " remarked Jason as he and Dana ate lunch at Appleby’s.

"It’s not like I’m spilling any dark secrets here. " she giggled at his discomfort. "Besides, I talk better on a full stomach. Shall we continue? "

Her playfulness helped him relax but the reporter wondered briefly if the girl was teasing him. "You said something about after Rowen became more than just a face to William... "

"It was as if placing her in a tangible environment started the now almost nightly play in motion. " Dana explained carefully. "The dream was becoming more than just an innocent fantasy for him.... "

*

"Here’s a picture of Rowen Stewart. " Will handed Dana Wilson a rough pencil of what he couldn’t describe in words. What she saw was a quick sketch of a girl dressed in stylish ruffled blouse covered by a smart jacket and a straight ankle length skirt. He wouldn’t win awards as a clothes designer as the outfit was vague in it’s depiction of period fashion. But where he’d failed in accurately clothing the youthful thin body, the artist succeeded in capturing a laughing expression in the soft eyes, at once childlike but also knowing.

"Very beautiful. " she told him. "What more do you know about your mystery girl?"

"Her family seems to be well-to-do, at least from what I’ve seen of the house. She’s an only child. I never saw a mother, only servants. " the prep worker grinned at a memory. "He dotes on Rowen, her father does. I think the wife probably died. We don’t remember her too well. "

She glanced at the picture once more, the face was half shadowed by a wide brim hat; the hair drawn up beneath. "Who’s we? " Dana inquired with a soft smile.

"We who? " he answered with a laugh. "You said ‘We don’t remember her. ‘ " the waitress softly chided him. "You sure that Rowen doesn’t have a brother or sister? "

" I just know that she misses the memory of her mother who likely died when Rowen was quite young. " he responded with a guarded tone. "Maybe the next time, I’ll see if there are any pictures of her. "

"You know, " Dana remarked slightly off the subject. "This drawing is very nice. Much better than some of the other stuff you’ve shown me. Maybe Rowen is your muse. "

*

"You told him that? " Jason asked in surprise. "You suggested that William Zane begin to record his dreams on paper? "

"Am I his muse? " laughed Dana, loud enough to turn the heads of several patrons nearby. "That would be a compliment, wouldn’t it? No, he decided on his own to begin sketching and painting Rowen. At first they were simple line drawings, like you saw. But gradually, as her world became more fleshed out... "

"You said something about ‘We.’ " Jason interrupted. "What did you mean by that?"

"The more he pushed into her world, the closer the connection between them seemed to become. Do you believe in reincarnation? " she queried the interviewer.

"You’re not suggesting that Rowen... "

"No, " Dana gave Jason a mischievous grin. "If she exists, did exist, somehow Will and she made contact across time. Perhaps they even had a shared life force which spanned the decades. I don’t know what’s true exactly, but the next time he spoke of her; there was more than just imagination at work. "

*

"I know all about her family now. " he’d told her as they went out with some of the Surf n Steak gang for drinks after work. " Her father, Daniel Stewart, runs a merchants bank in New Bedford. His family line got rich off the oil the whalers brought home from their far flung pilgrimages. But where his elder brother joined the fleet as one of the officers, Daniel stayed ashore to handle the financing for the various expeditions. "

"How did you... ? "

"She is alone, aside from cook and a girl, Sarah, who acts as both housekeeper and personal servant to Ms Steward. While Father does care, his beloved wife; taken in the throes of child birth, also took the best of him with her. We... she wishes for a simple hug rather than the trinkets he showers upon her. " he told her sincerely, oblivious to the bar chatter around them.

"You’re not making this up, are you? " Dana asked with fond concern.

"I think I understand why I dream of Rowen. " Will responded with a sad smile. "It’s something we both have in common. "

"In common? "

"She’s an artist... " he chuckled. "Quite promising, actually. Rowen does paintings of flowers and sometimes the people around the town. Papa is secretly quite proud of us, I think, though he doesn’t show it. There’s something else as well... "

She felt more than slightly nervous by his enthusiasm toward this fantasy. Dana knew that Will perhaps let his imagination run wild at times, but he’d seemed fairly grounded in this world. But rather than making the retiring man anxious, this ongoing dream seemed to have reawakened a buried quality which Zane so desperately needed.

"I smelled the roses and morning glories in the garden. Isn’t that weird? The Stewart house stands just off the bay. The mild breeze also blew in from the sea, the odd salty taste upon my tongue, if I have one. "

"Will? " Dana asked the question, despite her fears. "When are you... ? "

"1887. " he told her. "It’s April 10th. Papa was reading the paper from Boston."

*

"I think we’re finished here. " it took Jason by surprise, the flat statement. "What? " he blurted out.

"I think we’ve finished lunch. " Dana told him with straight face. "Your treat, right?"

"Very cute. " he paid the bill. "Why not come to my hotel and we can finish this up proper. "

Even enjoying the tease, Dana wasn’t sure what she felt toward Thorton. Where Will could be giving one moment and a closed book the next, the ‘Art World. ‘ reporter seemed more an open page. His eyes reflected a quiet curiosity and a much needed stability.

They returned to his room and Jason ordered a couple drinks while his guest lounged in a straight back not too comfortable chair.

"You said something about Will’s sudden change in style? " she told him mischievously. "You know that was Rowen, don’t you? He was imitating her work, or the way she worked. "

"I thought you might say that. " confessed the man, taking in the odd connection between them. This waitress, once simply an interview, had invisibly edged her way past his cynical defenses. He suddenly understood why the lonely frustrated artist chose Dana to confide in.

"What you don’t know was that two things prompted this. " she explained, smiling at knowing something he didn’t. "Second was the trip to Paris, the first... was the elopement to her seaman beau, Warren T. Atwell. "

*

From what Will told her, over a period of several months, Dana surmised that Rowen had a bit of the wild child about her. Kind and quiet about the house, attentive to the role of young mistress and eventual heir to the Stewart fortune, none the less she found romance in the arms of a man who Papa distrusted.

By now the kitchen worker had become almost nonchalant about this second life, near complete but with a persistent last barrier.

"Rowen’s unaware that we’re living together. " laughed Will. "At least I’ve been unable to make her aware of me. "

"I thought you two were... "

"... Were one? " he finished the question for her. "I think the most we share might be some kind of life energy? Maybe that spark, like some kind of cosmic engine, which runs spirit? gets traded up through different bodies over time. While each soul is separate, distinct? the essence is something much more basic. "

"So, it’s like sharing a lifeline between you. " Dana responded with a light chuckle. Where she was once frightened by him, Wills’ comfort with his odd delusion helped her become more at ease as well. "Like a weird embilical cord across time. "

"Exactly. " he answered laughingly. "But like that connection between mother and child, it seems to be a one way street, so far. "

Part of the mild annoyance seemed to come from the way that Dana’s friend described Rowens world to her. It was less a matter of bland recitation of architecture or historic detail than the young girls’ response to her own universe.

But the odd recitation of her life didn’t become more of a mild interest to Dana until about six months since Will had first confessed his fantasy.

"She has a boyfriend and Papa doesn’t like him. " he told her with almost a girlish glee. "His name’s Warren T. Atwell, a bridge officer aboard a merchant ship which Daniel Stewart insures. Lower to middle class, his family were fishermen of very modest means and Warren left home to save them another mouth to feed. Like that fella in Moby Dick, he took to sea an worked his way up under several different captains. "

"So, what’s not to like? " asked Dana. "Hard working and... Handsome? "

"Let’s just say you probably wouldn’t throw him out of bed. " Will told her. "Tall, lean in frame but not gangly. His uniform does dangle abit. Slightly older than Rowen, who’s about twenty. His face... sort of a cross between Ben Affleck and Rupert Everett, I guess. "

"But old daddy doesn’t like him? "

"The difference between old money and working man salary. " he explained with a wicked smile. "Plus our fancy turns to rather racy thoughts when he’s around. I almost think that Papa is suddenly aware that his little girl has finally grown up. But there’s something else as well. A couple times in those moments when she and Warren are together. It’s closer than I’ve ever been before. I think she’s beginning to notice that they’re not alone as well. "

The next day at work, Will was excited and abit flustered. A touch of red about his cheeks made Dana wonder if her co-worker was embarrassed or perhaps aroused.

"Breakthrough. " he told her. "All because of a kiss.... "

"Warren never kissed Rowen before now? " inquired his companion.

"The ones before were testing the waters between friendship, infatuation, and something deeper. " he laughed. "It’s deeper now, definitely. The slightly parted lips pressing firmly, questing and at once released from polite restraint. I felt a small... uh, she really felt that kiss. "

Now it was Danas’ turn to grin at Wills’ failed attempt to describe Rowen Stewarts orgasm. Perhaps she’d never before, or no more than modest self exploration on some rainy day when her father was... "So, what happened? "

"I was taken by surprise and just for a moment she seemed aware of my presence. It was enough that Rowen broke loose from her beau to look round. But when they went back into it, she discovered me there, perhaps as a stray thought or even stranger daydream. "

"And... ? "

"I lost the moment until later that night when she went to sleep. It was then that I visited her in full. Of course, as with her appearance to me, it took a short while before I could manifest myself in full. "

*

"Just a kiss. " Jason murmured, somewhat disappointed by the simplicity of it. If he were to believe that William Zane had somehow crossed a barrier between times...

"Not just a kiss... " Dana answered before she surprised the both of them by moving forward to press her lips firmly against his. While unexpected, this sudden act of intimacy made the world around him disappear; leaving only the two of them in a universe of their own making.

*

She basked in the afterglow of the moment, Jason lightly dozing beside her. Dana felt happily confused by the suddenness of the impulse, a sense of right which allowed this earnest man, a stranger just a few days before, to slowly undress her and then as patiently take her.

Another odd connection, Karma or Fate; she didn’t know, which reminded Dana of Will. Just like a man, Jason was ready to sleep afterwards. After the quiet but firm thrusts which teased her til Dana released; all the anxieties and frustrations which Wills’ death, and perhaps his life, had built up inside her.

"You sleeping? " she whispered into his ear, her body nestled with comfortable familiarity against his strong back. Like two souls who traveled different paths for so long only to meet an unlikely Angel; Will Zane, who brought them together at last.

"I was trying to... " he teased grumpily with that tone of infinite kindness which first allowed Dana to open up to him.

"I need to tell you something. " she slapped him on his shoulders with mock annoyance. "It’s about Zane and me, the reason I was reluctant to claim any real relations with him. "

"That you slept with him? " chuckled Jason, feeling his lovers’ eyes open in astonishment. "Not that I find it hard to believe after everything you’ve told me. "

"It was my divorce, which I didn’t even see coming until Tom came home from a particularly long haul. " confessed Dana, pressing hard against Jason, seeking security in his firm masculine form. "He drove a truck, as an independent, for many years which was good money but long hours. I had tended home for several years as we tried for a child, but it never happened. After that I restarted in community college, first out of boredom but later to try for a psych degree... "

"The difference which made Tom unsure of his role in your life. " Jason added, turning over to face her. "And he thought that was too wide a gap for either of you to bridge? "

"I’d always hated the term ‘Irreconcilable Differences. ‘ "she answered. ‘But that’s what it was between us. We parted distant friends, no children or property to fight over. But in my mind, it was all my fault. There was now only school... "

"and William. " he finished her thought for her and it made Dana smile softly.

"And the elopement of His fantasy to her sailor beau. " she told him.

*

She’s been so distracted the past several months, taking on extra shifts at the restaurant and throwing herself into school with a vengeance. As with any crisis, many of her friends walked round the angry waitress as if on eggshells. Then there was Will.

"I need a drink. " he’d told her at the conclusion of a particularly bad night. "You mind escorting me? " the gentle tease in his voice broke through Dana’s melancholy and she smiled softly her consent.

They went together, just the two of them, the girl still thinking about being alone after so many years a married woman. Will said nothing about that as they sat in Brady’s Pub. But he did have news about Rowen, whom Dana had not thought of in a long time.

"She eloped with Warren. " he told her with a grin. "Fearing that Father would try to stop them, Rowen boarded ship with him, bound for Europe. His commanding officer married them at sea. "

"That must have been a problem, what with Rowens’ dad holding the purse strings. " Dana remarked dryly, wondering at the odd coincidence of this revelation, just as her own life had changed so dramatically.

"Captain Tanner owed Warren much for being such an outstanding officer. Besides, the unspoken arrangement between them allowed his betrothed to board the ship without Tanner knowing exactly when. " Will laughed. "By the time she revealed herself the vessel would be too far out at sea to turn round without losing money and time. But that’s not most interesting part... "

Despite her inner hurt, the deep blush on her friends’ face lightened Dana’s depression as she realized what he was referring to... "The Wedding Night? " chuckled the waitress. "Will! You weren’t.... ? "

"I’m not sure how to describe it, from her point of view. " he explained, half apologetically. "But by this time, she was feeling my emotions almost overlaid on top of hers. It was great fun for Rowen to tease me with her own passion. "

"I’ve never understood how complete this connection was supposed to be between you and her. " Dana confessed. "I mean, could the both of you talk to one another? See each other? "

"After a fashion we could talk, but only in her mind. " Will explained to her. "Understand that it was a one way connection, my mind to hers. I could talk Alpha Brain patterns or REM, dream state; you know? But only during sleep could I cross over into her world. "

"So, you were giggling like school girls while her new husband banged the hell out of her. " Dana pressed, thinking for a moment of her own honeymoon.

"She giggled, I blushed. " he answered simply. "I suppose you know I’ve had some problems dating... "

"You told me about a few women you were crazy for.." she protested.

"But none who I brought into the restaurant or had relations with for more than a few months. " Will countered, his embarrassment turning to a deeper regret. "Fewer still that I... banged the hell out of. "

"You’re a nice guy. " Dana scolded in a firm voice. "Too nice, I think. I know I appreciate you. But you’ve never really let anyone in. "

"Last call. " the bartender interrupted mildly and Dana smiled.

"Look. " she told Will, wondering at the wicked notion which suddenly popped into her head. "I don’t think I want to go home right now. I’ve never seen your new place. Why don’t we go there, okay? "

"Do... do you want to drive or... ? " Will stammered and she gently put a hand over his. "I’ll let you drive. " she answered quietly.

Dana did wonder who was using who as the couple got into his old Toyota. Shit, he was practically a forty year old virgin. But his quality shown through and she knew that perhaps they both needed what Dana was ready to offer.

His place was surprisingly well kept as they entered Will’s condo. Not immaculate, but not cluttered with empty beer cans and pizzas boxes, like she’d imagined for a confirmed bachelors’ apartment.

"I haven’t really had a chance to do alot of grocery shopping. " he apologized to her. "Maybe you’d like some tea or a soda... " He knew of the possibility but still blushed as Dana took off her jacket and then her satin blouse.

"Why don’t we start the tour in the bedroom? "

"Look, Dana. " a slow smile shown his sudden reluctance and she quickly moved into his arms, wrapping them round her. "There is such a thing as being too much of a gentleman... Will. "

At her whispered encouragement, he broke his celibate fast of so many years, making Dana giggle as her friend successfully swept her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.

*

"So, you never became lovers? " Jason asked her plainly and Dana grinned.

"I think he understood it was for friendships sake; for the both of us, that we slept together. " she laughed, amused by the memory. "But he made the most of that single night and I discovered that thing which he’d been holding back all these years.. "

*

In the dark they lay together, both satisfied in different ways. There had been an endearing clumsiness at the start but his patient enthusiasm prevailed. But what surprised Dana the most was the tremendous level of giving which Will put into his love-making.

She’d thought, having denied himself for so long, that he would have been like a man lost in a desert finally given a drink of water. But Will had good instincts for finesse and as he gained confidence through Dana’s attentions, her lover took the initiative.

What made the moment special for her was that Will actually waited. Through several times when she’d thought he might erupt, her partner withheld his own pleasure til she’d caught up.

It was as if, the thing which he’d wanted most to pour into her was not the emotional baggage of someone broken by life, but the passion of love from one who’d held his better nature in reserve for the right person. For this night at least, Dana became the recipient of the tremendous outflow of his admiration and his honest friendship toward her.

"Was this what Will felt when Warren made love to Rowen? " she asked herself as Dana cuddled in the mans’ firm but oddly open embrace. It was as if he trusted her not to leave just yet, would not cling to his own needs but hold her there with comfortable familiarity.

*

"He told me, " she confessed to Jason. "that when the newlyweds had finally made love to one another on that gently rocking ship, that Rowen shared with him his first true sense of Unconditional Love. That’s something that many brag about but few really experience. "

"And he shared it with you. " her beau responded, a light touch of jealousy to his question which amused Dana no end. She playfully slapped his chest and gave him a firm kiss.

"In friendship. " she scolded lovingly. Her tease brought a laugh to Jason’s lips and he pulled her close. "And what are we? " he asked with a soft non-judgmental voice.

"I don’t know. " she confessed. "But won’t it be fun to find out? "

The sudden staccato ringing from the phone next to the bed interrupted them; Jason awkwardly snagging the receiver from its cradle on the fifth ring.

"Huh? Who? Oh, Nancy, Hi. " he grumbled slightly, turning toward Dana with an exasperated grin. "My Boss. " he told her. "Do you mind if I take this? No, not you, Nancy. "

"I’ll go freshen up. " she told her lover, kissing him once before hopping out of bed to hustle into the bathroom. With the door shut, the reporter allowed himself one deep sigh.

"Really into your work, I see. " his boss kidded, the sound of rustling papers in the background coming over the line. "I’ll keep this short. You know that name you gave me? "

"Go on. "

"I did find a reference to a financial concern established in New Bedford around 1802 by one Samuel Stewart. Upon his death in 1837, the business was turned over to the surviving heir... "

"Daniel Stewart, I know. " Jason finished for her. "Was there anything about his children? "

"Not in my search. " confessed Nancy. "But understand it was cursory at best. What about any leads at your end? "

In that moment, Jason hesitated. He’d been ready to spill, tell Nancy everything that Dana had told him in confidence between the sheets.

"Do you think there’s anything more to this, or are you ready to come back yet? " she pressed.

"Uh, I just want to check out a couple more things before I leave. " he responded after an odd silence. He couldn’t see the frown upon her face, but the disapproval was evident over the phone. "Then I’ll let you get back to it. But don’t forget your obligations to your job, okay? "

"Sure thing. " he answered curtly. "Thanks for the confidence, Nancy. "

As Jason hung up, he saw Dana standing in the open doorway smiling widely at her lover. "We have a believer. " she remarked in a dead-pan.

*

It wasn’t surprising to Jason that they stayed in bed that afternoon and through the night, pausing in their exploration of each other only to order room service. What did shocked him was the naturalness of this abrupt romance. Like this attractive sensitive woman who lay next to him, He thought that comfortable notion; more than anything else, made him believe in the idea of William Zanes’ vision, if not the reality of it.

As the clock beside the bed struck Seven AM, the radio alarm turned to a medium din which shook the drowsy couple to full wakefulness.

"... There she goes again. Racing through my brain... and I just can’t explain, these feelings that remain... "

"A sign from Rowen? " giggled Dana sleepily.

"More like a sign that one of us should grab a shower while the other call down for breakfast. " he laughed before she gingerly shoved him out of bed.

"You go get cleaned up and I’ll take care of food. " she told him.

Staggering into the bath, Jason started the hot water running, all the while gazing with an odd amazement at the goofy self satisfied expression on his face. Over the noise of the gushing jets, he thought he heard Dana say something to him.

"I didn’t quite hear.. "

"I said, ‘We should go back to Wills’ apartment today. ‘ " she told him. "I’d like to tell you the rest of the story before you have to go back to New York. I know you don’t like to leave things half finished. "

"And what’s at Zanes’ place? " asked the reporter curiously.

"Paris... and the beginning of Wills’ life for real. " Dana answered cryptically.

*

This trip out more boxes were emptied as the waitress handed her lover a small still life composition. It was a luminous piece with a fine blend of rainbow oil colors, the subject; brilliant wild flowers in a dull brown clay vase, Untitled. "Look at the signature. " Dana urged.

"Rowen S. Atwell? " Jason gazed with obvious appreciation of the fair approximation of an older style, perhaps influenced by Monet... "But Will painted this."

"This was his first homage piece to his muse. As she learned to break from the rigidity of the old school, so Rowen passed on style and technique to him.... "

*

It was somewhat strange to Dana, the days after their night together. Will acted almost the same toward her, but with an added lightness which let her see the appreciation in those soft hazel eyes. But she knew he needed nothing more from her than that one night and a promise their friendship would continue.

Additionally, Will had found a new energy and creative furvor, finally beginning work on the personal website he’d talked so long about but had done nothing on thus far. And then, of course, there was Rowen.

She and Warren had finally landed in Calais, where their ship would lay in port for about a week or so til Captain Tanner completed business for the company.

"He’d given Warren and his new wife leave to go on to Paris til such time as Tanner would come fetch the two of them after finishing with his own obligations. " Will explained. "Rowen told me how excited she was to see the ‘City of Lights. ‘ as was I. As any artist with a love of the masters, I’d always wanted to go there."

"And you did, " Dana added appreciatively. "with Rowens’ help. "

*

"Have you ever been there? " asked Dana suddenly and Jason nodded.

"A few times. If there was as much of the fine artist, the frustrated Impressionist in Will that I suspect, it was the source of everything for him. Not simply that Paris is one of the most beautiful cities on this planet, but that in Rowens time, a creative revolution was at its’ zenith. "

"He told me the newlyweds began as tourists but ended practically as natives... " she told him, smiling as Dana remembered the enthusiasm in Will as he described it to his friend.

*

"Luminous. "

"You said ‘Luminous? ‘ " laughed Dana at this odd word to describe Rowens’ arrival in Paris.

"Well.. " Will confessed sheepishly. "Maybe ‘Vibrant? ’... "Alive? ‘ might do better. They came in by train, catching a distant glimpse of the spires of Notre Dame miles before the cityscape itself came into view. "

"And the Eiffel Tower, of course. " she added, the chef chuckling.

"Of course... not. " He teased. "That wouldn’t be built for at least another year. This added to the strangeness, seeing a city before the serious rebuilding after the Second World War. But with Rowen, it wasn’t architecture, it was Art itself which drew us in,

"Both Rowen and Warren spoke French, though she had a better grasp of it than he, charming the residents with an odd naiveté which was less tourist than respectful pilgrim. They would walk along the Seine, arm in arm; she, pausing frequently to ask questions of some Bargeman or sidewalk Painter.... "

"Did you understand what they said? " queried Dana and he nodded cheerfully. "She translated it for me in her mind. It was really weird to hear a language I’d never taken in school and suddenly know everything they talked about. "

Will told her that the young couple did not so much sight-see as Drink in the life around them, strolling the Champs-Elysees by gaslight; venturing into the smaller neighborhoods on the left bank where many of the artists and writers worked at their craft, only to argue endlessly over what it all really meant.

"What meant? " asked Dana, her own curiosity aroused.

"Principles of light and shadows, their influence over Form. Art not being in the details but rather in how the subject interacted with the world, or the world with the subject. "

"I’m not sure what you’re saying. "

"It doesn’t matter. " he told her. "Just some old arguments which are still going on today. I teased Rowan with what I’d learned from school and she used it in her debates with the sidewalk cafe elite. Needless to say, Rowen charmed them even as we laughed together about it afterwards."

"And? " Dana demanded, not seeing his point at all.

"And they let her into the circle. " Will explained. "Rowen was invited into the studios and garrets of the elite, rediscovering her second passion, next to Warren. I think, though her painting and sketches up to this point in time were technically fine, they were missing Heart. What her husband awakened inside, the Post-Impressionists helped to give it form. "

*

"Love? " Jason raised an eyebrow even as she punched his shoulder hard in reproach.

"What Rowens’ father couldn’t give his daughter in full and what Will had been searching for his entire life. " she chided the reviewer with more than just a little annoyance. "That their work might reflect something of themselves as well as what they painted. To let people see into their hearts, to see that both now saw the world as... "

"Luminous? " he expected another sock to the arm but Dana rewarded Jason with a delighted kiss to his forehead. "Yes, Luminous. " she clapped her hands with pleasure.

"And what Rowen learned, she taught to Will. "

"And he began use what he’d been taught on a series of oils which would conclude with ‘Widow Waiting. " Dana told him. "It was barely a month later that he had his website finished, positive responses coming immediately as folks gradually discovered the artist and the twenty odd pieces Will had put on the Internet. I think you know the rest of the story. "

"But what of Rowen? " Jason demanded, sounding angry without meaning to. "What happened to her and Warren? Was this everything Will had to say about her? "

"The last thing he’d told me, before Will found job offers beginning to take up much of his time, was that near to the day when Captain Tanner was expected, there came a letter from the States. It was from Daniel Stewart. He wanted the two of them to return as soon as they could. But two words delighted his only child to no end. ‘Forgive Me.’ " she answered simply, touching his wrist in understanding.

"So the father reconciled to the daughter? "

"Of course. " laughed Dana. "After all, we want a happy ending, don’t we? The only other item which Will mentioned before he became caught up in his renewed career was that the newlyweds were planning a move to Boston in the spring. "

"And this was the last you heard of Rowen? " Jason expected an end to his own journey, to unlock this cipher which was William Zane. But he felt somehow betrayed that it was finished so abruptly.

"For practically three years, it was. " giggled his lover in teasing tones. "He’d quit the restaurant the second the first sizable check cleared, devoting himself immediately to a half dozen creative projects. For us, our somewhat odd relationship was severed by the distraction of his freelance work and my own schooling.

"During the few times he came to the Surf n Steak to visit, oh! and that small art exhibition of some of his published stuff sponsored by a few of Wills’ art friends, we spoke only about trivial things. That was it, until about a week before he’d been found dead by his mother and some neighbors. I got two strange calls from him. "

"Both were about Rowen. " Jason sighed and Dana embraced him. She was conciliatory, seeing how patient and kind he’d been, thinking that the reporter deserved to know what she thought the final truth of the Time-crossed couple really was. Wills’ odd death and Rowens life...

"The first came at three in the morning. He was very upset. Apparently there was some kind of pneumonia or something like it, running rampant through the city and outlying districts... "

*

"Dana! " the single word barely penetrated her still groggy senses. Even with the higher pitch to his anxious voice, the person at the other end of the phone line sounded familiar.

"Uhhh, Who.... ? "

"Dana! It’s Will! "

Will? The same Will who’d more or less dropped out of her life for months at a time, too busy with his renewed life to even bother... "Where are you calling from? Don’t you know it’s... only three in the morning? " she grumbled, peering at the dimly lit numbers on her clock alarm.

"I’m home. " he didn’t seem too concerned about waking her, but there was a sense of wrongness to Will that was as effective as black coffee in dragging Dana kicking and screaming out of sleep. His next words finished the job. "Dana, It’s about Rowen. I think she’s dying. "

Dana had not thought on his dream girl for quite a while, trying in the few minutes of uncomfortable silence to recall what Will had last told her.

She and Warren were in Boston, the father more open to the couple than he’d been in the previous twenty odd years after his wife and Rowens’ mother had died. As for Rowen, she’d gone back into her craft with a vengeance. Inspired by what she’d been shown, the young painter began to truly shine even as her future friend had found his own creative voice at long last...

"Tell me. " Dana pressed Will finally, feeling more in control.

"It’s been a harsh winter for everyone. " he explained. "The whole of New England had been practically shut down for the past few days. But Rowen... she was called out to tend to a sick former servant. I told you about Sarah? After Rowen married, the young maid had been hired by another household not far from where the couple lived. But she and her previous mistress remained close. "

"So your lady went out in Blizzard conditions to tend to her? "

"The storm had socked Boston hard. " Will explained, calmer now as he talked with her. "The physician who attended to both households was also hard pressed by a large number of patients down with whatever it was that Sarah had. "

"And did she survive? " asked Dana, suddenly sharing an empathetic concern for the well being of the maid.

"Barely. " he told her. "All through the night, Rowen and the ladies of the house tended the poor girl round the clock. They changed the sweat soaked sheets, held her upright as Sarah coughed thickly. Apparently her lungs were congested, I didn’t have the right kind of medical knowledge to figure out what the symptoms meant, but I knew if there was fluid filling her lungs, Sarah would die. "

"But she did live. "

"Rowen and the women knew better than I what to do. They used hot towels on the girls’ chest to try and break up the blockage. The cloths were soaked with something quite pungent, what Rowen called a horse remedy. " Dana almost felt Will smile briefly as he said this.

"The doctor came shortly after dawn. He told Rowen; after a cursory examination, that Sarah was over the worst of it. Baring a relapse to her still weak system, Sarah would eventually mend over time. "

"And Rowen has the same illness now? "

"She’s so scared, Warren and the doctor tending her with the same devotion she showed for Sarah. But it’s much worst for her. It’s takes all our energies to sustain the child within her. "

"Within.... " the revelation hit hard, Dana forgetting all her annoyance at Will’s long absence and his strange early morning call. "How far along is she? "

"Almost four months. She and Warren have waited so long for this baby. Rowen’s ready to give up her own life for it, for her daughter... "

"Will? " something in what he said frightened the waitress. Scared her more than the imminent death of his fantasy. "How do you know Rowen’s baby is a girl? "

"I haven’t told her yet. " he answered. "But if I concentrate, I can almost touch the life spark within the tiny girl. It’s kind of sweet, the open mind already questing with a distinctly feminine curiosity, even before she’s out of the womb... "

*

The odd expression on her lovers face made Dana halt her narrative, an impasse of sorts evident in Jason’s’ handsome features. How far could faith carry you before you stumbled?

"This is from his own words. " she chided him and the interviewer shook his head.

"We’ve come a long way to this point. " he ventured slowly. "I’m not going to start calling anyone a liar now. But to connect with the soul of an unborn infant? "

"He believed it completely! " Dana shouted, not sure why this moment of doubt from her beau upset her so. "He believed enough in Rowen, and the child to be growing within her, that I believe that Will Zane gave up his life force to save them both! "

It should have surprised him, this outburst from the woman. But for some reason, it all made too much sense. While the attending physician who’d examined him thought a burst blood vessel in the brain had brought about Williams’ fatal stroke, Jason had to wonder. If this supposed essence within the artist suddenly left the body, what physiological effect would that have on the shell left behind?

"That was the second call. " he prompted. Dana nodded, tears glistening at the corners of her bright eyes.

"It was less than a day after I’d settled Will down that he called me at work. " she explained. "What he said was ‘The Road goes only one-way, Dana. Everything will work out for the best, I promise. ‘ then he hung up. "

"And then he died. " Jason added, pulling Dana close to him as she cried out the last of her long denied grief.

"Because I didn’t believe. " she wept. "After so long, I didn’t connect all he’d told me with what Will planned to do. It was the day after that freaky call that I got a bad feeling. I called his mother. When she got to his place, she found him sprawled across his art, pen in hand. "

"How much could anyone believe? " Jason whispered lovingly into her ear. "Unless you lived it, how could you know something like this was anything but one mans’ beautiful fantasy? "

For a time they sat holding each other amidst the creative remains of a life, this lasting memorial laid out in pencil, ink and pigment. And when Jason and Dana finally locked the door to his condo, they were left to wonder about the exact nature of the gift Will had given them.

*

"Spent all your time waiting, for that second chance. For the break that would make it ok... "

The three days spent in an odd lightness of spirit made Dana think that perhaps the events past which had so transformed her had been only a strange dream. Jason had gone back to New York, promising to call after he’d straightened things out with his boss.

Work and school had become bearable again, the psychic limbo she’d found herself in after Wills’ death was banished for good. Her impulse to confide in Jason had led to closure, for Dana at least.

"... In the arms of the angels. Far away from here... "

When the phone rang she affected a soft smile, as if her beau might somehow see it over the line.

"Hey, pretty lady. " his voice matched her strange humor, holding her close to him even from a distance.

"Hey, yourself. " she giggled happily. "So, everything clear with the Boss Lady? "

"Uh, sort of. " there was a subtle sigh from his end of the line. "One and a half page copy and another full page devoted to Wills’ more noted paintings. "

"So, you didn’t include anything about Rowen in the article? "

"That’s the second thing. " Jason responded, almost as confession. "I bowed out of additional assignments to take some personal time. Nancy wasn’t too happy about that, but I needed to do something first. "

"Which is? " Dana demanded with a worried tone that caught his attention.

"Nothing illegal or immoral. " Jason laughed. "And I still have a job to go back to. I just need to find something."

"What’s that? "

"A happy ending. " he explained in a happily mysterious voice which both amused and frustrated his love. "Jason?! " she scolded with mock harshness that made him laugh.

"I’ve booked a flight to Boston for tomorrow. " he told her. "As you so wisely pointed out, I don’t like leaving things half finished. Let me get off the line and I’ll send you word from Bean Town on what I find. "

"Sure. " it came out more curt than Dana wanted but he caught it all the same. "One more thing. " Jason said with an audible chuckle.

"What? " came her slightly miffed reply. "I love you, and miss you, and will see you after this trip. " he told her, driving away her sour mood and replacing it with pure delight.

*

When next he called, Jason teased Dana with a short declaration and a request. "I love you. Check your mail box and we’ll talk at length. "

She found the usual bills and something odd, a slim postcard from New Bedford with a fine oil reproduction of a dark seascape on the one side and a few lines of print on the back. While very brief, no other words were needed to give Dana a sense of overwhelming joy at what the reporter had uncovered at journeys’ end.

"I found Rowen at last. " she read. "She named her daughter ‘Wilhelmina.’ "

After this simple but wonderful news, the only other script was this. "Check the signature on the painting, you’ll love it. Yours’ Forever; Jason. "

Though so tiny that she needed a magnifying glass to read it, the scrawl was familiar even if the name was that of another - Mina W. Atwell.

-The End-

 

Afterwards;

Embers Dying has been the oddest of my literary experiments, based on a dream nowhere near complete as the one experienced by our tragic hero. It is also a revision of an earlier story, one in which a person with seemingly nothing, affects a great change in the world; not noticed except in hindsight after his death.

During the two months of creating Embers, I’ve had three different versions of this story going simultaneously to try altered points of perspective. This finish was always meant to be told from Dana’s retelling of what Will told her over the course over several months.

Some things which seem omissions are deliberate but the resolution is more specific then I originally intended. Such is life. (he smiles)

For the curious, Dana is actually three women I knew, all healthy and happy. Jason is entirely fictitious and the mysterious Nancy is based on a former boss lady. As for Will, some elements in his life are real, but I’m not telling which parts are mine, LOL. He is also a composite of several people I know who still struggles for recognition, all very much alive and relatively sane.

A final note of gratitude to the music of Sarah McLachlan and the band Sixpence None the Richer for special inspiration in creating this story.

Way Zim

 

 


© 1999
The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this story must contact the author for permission.