Mitla Pass - Leon Uris [49]
And when you caught my eye,
My heart stood still,
Once again I seemed to feel
That old yearning,
And I knew the spark of love,
Was still burning ...
“Hey, Marine, you’re moving in a little fast.”
“That’s me, baby. Stick with me. I’ll take you over the rough spots.”
“What did you say your name was?”
“Zadok, Gideon Zadok, and I’m going to be a great writer someday.”
With all the beauty and magic around us, there was still terrible unhealed pain between Val and me. We didn’t talk about it much, but it was there. When people have inflicted such hurt on each other for so long a time, there must be scar tissue and bad dreams that will never go away. Were we strong enough, did we have the capability of love so powerful that we could endure black memories of the past, tuck them into a remote corner and never let them haunt us again? Could Val and I make it to the end? The moment I saw her, I knew I wanted to try.
Tex returned in a week with the message that Judd Schlosberg had lined up radio time to speak to me on Guadeloupe. The big island, which administrated St. Barths, was a hundred miles or so to the south and was more in touch with the outside world.
We could easily round-trip it in a day and it would be fun for the girls. Basse Terre had a bazaar to drive them crazy. I went to the shortwave radio center at the central post office.
Oh, my, my, my! Those exquisite words. “We love the script. We want to do the picture.”
Schlosberg wanted a few weeks of changes, nothing major. Could I get back after New Year’s?
“I’ll be there.”
End of transmission.
I was halfway home! Now, I dared dream openly of the novel.
ON THE WESTERN end of St. Barths, Mount Vitet rose a thousand feet above the sea. Sometimes the jeep won the battle up the road, sometimes the road won. We had to climb the last half hour. We were both weary from welcoming in the New Year with a party for two.
The expanse of water below us held a scattering of islands, little volcanic wonderments blasting up from the seabed millions of years ago.
Val perched on a rock and crossed her legs and threw her head back to catch the breeze. The sweat shone off her face and neck and bosom. I unbuttoned her blouse.
“God, they taste good sweaty.”
She held my head to her. “You crazy. I’m so happy we’re all going back together.”
“Me too,” I said.
“You’ll miss this place, Gideon.”
“I was lucky to find it. God forbid I never come back. I was lucky. I’d like to freeze time now, here. Val, you’re beautiful.”
“Shucks, man, you’re going to make me cry.”
You can make love to a hundred women, but no one feels like the woman who gave you your children.
We sat for a long time hanging onto the last images. “Val, I once took a girl up to a hilltop a long time ago. A place called Twin Peaks in San Francisco. We were kids. I told her I was going to be a great writer someday and I read her the first chapter of a book I was going to write, someday.”
“What happened to her?”
“We got married but we didn’t live happily ever after. Along the way I got messed up. Then, I found an island called St. Barths and it taught me to go back and do what I was supposed to do in this world. I’d rather come back here and live like a fisherman and write what I want to write. You know what I mean?”
“I’m starting to understand what you’re about, Gideon. I’d like to believe I can keep you but I don’t know. I haven’t got a hell of a lot of confidence anymore. You’re a tough number to handle, buddy. You’ve got a trillion volts running through you. I swear I don’t know if there’s a woman in the world who can ever really bring you peace.”
“Val, I’m sorry for what I did to you.”
“I know that, Gideon. You don’t have to say it.”
“I do have to say it. I’ve got to hear myself saying it.”
“I made you do a lot of things that drove you away. I’m not all that clean,” she said. “We’ve both done numbers on each other. Can we make it? I wish I were more certain.”
“I brought you up here because we started once on a hilltop. I know where I’m heading. I’ll find out why, when I’m there. I thought