Mary and Alvin Ch. 15

The Promised Land

As soon as the pilot announced they were on approach to LAX, Alvin snapped on his seatbelt.

"We've still got a good twenty minutes before we land, honey," Mary said. She smiled to herself. She had to admit that she was taking some enjoyment from Alvin's nervousness. After so many months of being the outsider, the one constantly being guided through new experiences, she was entering into her element and he was the lost lamb.

She knew that he had never flown before, but she was surprised at how unsettled he had been since they entered the terminal in Portland. He asked her multiple times if she had their boarding passes, whether she was worried that they might miss their connecting flight in Philadelphia, if there would be bad weather over the midwest.

When they took off, she held his hand, and his grip was tight. "It's going to be alright," she whispered to him.

"Oh, I'm fine," he said, not sounding fine.

"You are safer in a plane than you are out on your boat."

"That's not the point. I can't control what happens, that's the point."

"Maybe letting go of control once in a while is a good idea, Alvin."

"Well, if you feel that way, we could just buy you a whip and some handcuffs, we don't have to go through all this."

Mary picked up her magazine and flipped it open as the plane reached cruising attitude. "Plenty of places to buy that stuff in L.A.," she muttered.

Alvin looked out the window. It was a crystal blue morning. He could see the Atlantic in the distance and made a game of picking out locations along the coast. Soon, however, their route went inland and his view was obscured by clouds.

He felt foolish at his nervousness.

"Mary, I'm sorry to be a pest about all this."

"Just tell me it's about not having flown before and not about meeting my family," she said without looking up from the magazine.

"It might be some of each," he shrugged.

"Well, man up, big boy. I went to your family with an open heart, I expect the same from you." He started to speak, but she cut him off. "And before you say a word, let's remember that Charlotte wanted to kick my ass back to California at first."

"Well, that's so." He sat back and tried to relax, but before long they began their descent into Philly, and his stomach turned over as the plane lost altitude. For a brief moment he thought he might vomit, but it passed, and once they were on the ground, he felt fine.

The Philadelphia airport was packed with holiday travelers. Alvin stood in line for coffees and a Cinnabon while Mary went to the Ladies Room. When she returned, she had changed from her jeans and sweater into a floral patterned ankle length dress. She carried her parka over her arm.

They found seats in the crowded waiting area and split their bun.

"Don't you look like spring come early," Alvin said, admiring Mary's dress.

"It's going to be..." she checked her phone, "...seventy degrees and sunny in L.A."

"Isn't that pretty much what it is all the time?"

"Close to it. And still, you are wearing, what, three shirts?"

"I can pull them off if need be."

"Well, I don't have that luxury," she laughed.

They boarded their connecting flight. Alvin felt more relaxed on the take off, now that he knew what to expect.

"I think I'm starting to get the hang of this flying business," he told Mary.

"Well, you're a veteran now, this is technically your second flight."

"That's so."

"But you are still squeezing my hand too tight."

"Oh sorry," he said, loosening his grip.

They began to gain altitude and Mary fished a pack of gum from her purse, unwrapped a stick and put it in her mouth. She held another out to Alvin. He looked at it and shook his head. She shrugged and put it back in her purse. A few minutes later, Alvin felt his ears pop.

"Ow," he grumbled, shaking his head, "Damn, that hurts."

"Should have taken the gum," Mary said without looking up from her book.

Alvin settled in, and began to relax. He dozed for a while, but perked up when the flight attendant came by with beverages.

"Say," he whispered to Mary, as they sipped their sodas, "Did you ever think about that mile high club thing?"

"Nope," she said, "Don't even try."

Alvin laughed, "It was just a thought. You ought to consider it a compliment."

She rested her head on his shoulder and spoke in a low voice, "Honey, I have fucked you on your boat, I have sucked your dick in the car. Don't push your luck."

"Fair enough," he replied, "But maybe we ought to take a train ride some time."

"That, I might consider," she said, kissing him on the side of his face. She returned to her book, and Alvin looked out the window. The land below, once a deep green flecked with white, had faded to a dull brown as they traveled west. He watched with fascination as mountains rose beneath them. He looked up at the endless sky and imagined himself flying in and out of the clouds, with Mary wrapped in his arms before him.

***

Alvin had thought the airport in Philadelphia was a madhouse, but it was a faint foreshadow of Los Angeles. He understood that there was some underlying organized scheme to things, but it all seemed like chaos to him.

They worked their way through the crowds to retrieve their luggage, then made their way to the exit and passed through the automatic doors into bright sunshine. They boarded a shuttle bus which circled the terminal, crossed a long, full parking lot and dropped them off at the car rental agency.

Alvin waited outside with their luggage while Mary entered the agency. He pulled off his jacket and squinted up at the sky. It had a bit of a brown tint. He drew in a deep breath through his nose. Frickin' air smells like car exhaust and hot asphalt, he thought.

Mary came back with a wide grin on her face.

"You look like the cat that got in the cream," Alvin told her.

"My turn to pull off the surprises." A moment later, an attendant zoomed up in a white Mustang convertible. Alvin laughed when he saw it.

Mary climbed in the driver's seat and Alvin got in on the passenger side. Mary was beaming as she made her way out of the airport and on to a wide boulevard, lined with modern glass and steel buildings and towering palm trees. Alvin was fascinated by the palms. They reminded him of the masts of tall ships.

Mary took a ramp on to the freeway and stepped on the gas. Within minutes, though, traffic slowed to a crawl.

"Welcome to L.A." she muttered.

"It's a lot cleaner than I expected," Alvin said.

Traffic thinned and they picked up speed. Alvin felt near sensory overload. So many cars, so many billboards, so many buildings reflecting bright sunlight. Through the heavy air he could see the outlines of downtown towers and distant mountains.

Mary pulled off the freeway and drove through a busy commercial district. Alvin was amused to see people in summer clothes walking past store windows filled with Christmas displays. Mary found their hotel and parked in the underground garage. They checked in and hauled their luggage to their room.

The wind had made a tangled mess of Mary's hair. She combed it out and touched up her makeup while Alvin sat at the foot of the bed, flipping through the television channels.

"Don't matter where you go in this country," he said when she came out of the bathroom, "Every hotel has the same TV channels."

Mary sat on his knee and brushed his hair with her fingers.

"I can't wait to see what my mother makes of you," she said.

"She will think I'm wicked charming."

"Well, I guess we ought to go find out."

Alvin changed into a short sleeve shirt. "Do I look like a Californian now?" he asked.

"No," Mary said, shaking her head, "But you look cute anyway."

"Well, let's go charm your mother."

***

Alvin was impressed by the ease with which Mary navigated the maze of streets. They all looked the same to him; neat ranch house stood next to neat ranch house, each with its trimmed lawn and ornamental shrubbery. Every third house seemed to have a tree. Alvin looked for a nice pine, but saw none that weren't behind a picture window, draped in colored lights.

"What kind of trees are these?" he asked Mary.

She shrugged. "Eucalyptus, I guess. Or some kind of willow. I don't know." She pointed to one tree. "That's an olive tree, I think."

"How do you grow up in a place and not know the names of the trees?"

"It's just not as important in an urban area, I suppose."

Mary made a couple of what seemed like random turns.

"How do you know your way around where all the houses look so much the same?" Alvin asked.

"What, they look more alike than waves on the ocean?"

"Well, no I guess not."

"I grew up here, Alvin, I know it like you know Londonderry."

Mary rounded a curve and without slowing, turned into a circular driveway and stopped in front of the door of a white stucco house just like all the rest. Drawing in a deep breath and letting it out, she looked at Alvin. "Ready?"

He shrugged. "Sure. You are more nervous than I am."

"You don't know her," Mary sighed as she climbed out of the car. Alvin got out and they stepped on to the porch together. Mary squeezed his hand, and looked at him.

"I'm never sure if I should knock," she said.

Alvin gave her a startled look. "Who knocks on their own mother's door?"

She shrugged and opened the door. "Mom?" she called, "We're here." They stepped into a bright foyer. Not the mud room, the foyer, Alvin chuckled to himself.

Mary's mother stepped into the archway to the living room. She smiled brightly and opened her arms. Beneath the wrinkles and a few extra pounds, Alvin could see Mary in her face. He watched as Mary crossed to her mother and the two women embraced, swaying back and forth as they hugged each other tightly. After a moment they separated and turned towards Alvin. He could see dampness in their eyes.

"Mom, this is Alvin," Mary said. Her mother moved towards him and Alvin stepped forward to meet her. She took his hand and shook it.

"Please, Alvin, call me Jean," she said. There was an awkward moment while Alvin wondered if she was going to hug him as well, but she turned to Mary instead. "Come in, sit down, sweetheart. Tell me about your trip."

They all went into the living room. Mary and Jean sat on the couch while Alvin took a seat in an easy chair across the room. While the women chatted about the airport crowds, he looked around. Everything in the room was white or beige. Mary's dress was the only splash of color.

"Alvin?"

He was startled by Mary's voice, and realized he had not been listening.

"My Mom asked you a question."

"Oh, I'm sorry, my mind just sort of drifted."

"Jet lag," Mary said, shrugging at her mother.

"That's quite alright," Jean said, "I was asking you for your first impressions of California."

Alvin thought of saying that it smelled funny, but he bit his tongue, "Well, the weather is wicked different, of course. But the size of the city really struck me. If I drove as far out of Bangor as we did coming here from the airport, we'd be deep in the willywacks, uh, that is to say, out in the woods."

"I imagine it's quite different. But I have always heard that Maine is beautiful, and Mary has told me how true that is. I am looking forward to seeing it in May."

"We will be happy to have you there, Ma'am."

Jean smiled and turned back to Mary. Alvin tried to focus his attention on their conversation about the comings and going of various relatives and friends, but he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He checked the time on his phone. It was almost eight o'clock in Maine. They had left Londonderry at four a.m. to make their flight out of Portland. No wonder he was so tired. But he managed to stay awake until Jean went to the kitchen to finish preparing their supper.

"Come here, honey," Mary said, patting the couch, "Sit by me."

He crossed the room and sat next to her. She took his hand and said, "You make it through dinner and we will go back to the hotel and you can sleep as long as you want."

Jean came back and beckoned them into the dining room. Alvin stood up and said, "Ma'am, I apologize if I have seemed rude or inattentive. It's been a long day."

Jean waved off his remarks. "It's quite alright, Alvin. Come into the dining room, dinner is ready."

Mary offered to help serve. "No, dear, you're a guest here now," Jean said. Alvin noticed that Mary winced at the remark.

They sat at the dining room table. Jean had set out salads of mixed greens and avocado slices. When they finished them, she went to the kitchen and returned with a platter of roast chicken and bowls of broccoli and seasoned rice.

While they ate, Mary and her mother chatted about Maine. Jean was horrified at Mary's description of the ice storm, but smiled when she heard her daughter describe building her first snowman. As a parent, Alvin understood the look in Jean's eyes while she listened.

At one point, Jean turned to Alvin and asked, "So, you've never lived outside of the town where you were born?"

"No, Ma'am," he replied, putting down his fork, "I set out to roam when I was young, but life called me back."

"Do you have regrets about that?"

Alvin thought for a minute. "No. Now and then I imagine what might have been, but I wouldn't say I have regrets. My family is there and my family needed me."

Jean looked at him thoughtfully, nodded, then turned back to Mary and asked her more questions about life in the small coastal town.

There was carrot cake for dessert, and by the time they finished it, Alvin could barely keep his eyes open. When they said their goodnights at the door, Jean leaned in and gave him a quick hug. Making some progress, he thought.

When they arrived back in their hotel room, Alvin immediately stripped to his underwear and flopped on the still made bed. By the time Mary got her pajamas on, he was asleep. She shook him awake long enough to get him under the covers and kissed him goodnight. She felt restless herself, excited by thoughts of seeing her brothers and their families the next day. She turned off the lights and crossed the room to the window, opened the curtains and looked out. The lights of the city stretched as far as she could see. She was struck with a wave of melancholy. There were so many people and places here that she loved, but she thought about standing on Alvin's boat, snug in his arms and looking up at the glowing expanse of the Milky Way, and she knew that this would never be her home again.

***

Alvin woke early. He slipped on his clothes as quietly as he could, started the coffee maker, then tiptoed out of the room. Continental breakfast was being served in the lobby. He loaded a plate with muffins and danishes and brought it back to the room. He tried to close the door without waking Mary, but he heard her sleepy voice from the bed.

"Alvin, is that you, honey?"

"You wasn't expecting no one else, I hope."

"I never expected you. Do I smell coffee?"

"Yes, you do, and I've got pastries, too."

"You're a good man, Alvin Faulkner," she said, getting out of bed, "I think I'll marry you."

They ate their breakfast and talked over how to spend the day.

"Won't everything be closing up?" Alvin asked, "It's Christmas Eve."

"Yes, it's Christmas Eve. The city will be full of tourists and all the stores will be packed."

Mary turned on the television and found the Weather Channel.

"Seventy five and sunny," she said with a smile, "I said I would be wearing shorts and a tank top, and I will."

"I won't fuss about that, but it's a hell of a way to spend Christmas Eve."

An hour later, they were cruising down Hollywood Boulevard, the top down on the Mustang. They saw the Hollywood Sign, and Mann's Chinese Theater and the stars along the Walk of Fame. But Alvin kept looking, not at the popular sights, but at the woman behind the wheel. Her skin seemed to glow in the bright California sun. Her hair fluttered in the breeze as she drove.

Mary suddenly jammed on the breaks and made a sharp right turn.

"In-N-Out Burgers!" she exclaimed. She parked next to a red, white and yellow fast food restaurant and got out of the car. Alvin caught up with her and took her hand as they went inside.

As Alvin read the menu, Mary told him, "You should order a Double Double and a Neapolitan shake."

"I don't see a Neapolitan."

"It's on the secret menu. Don't worry, I'll order for us."

Alvin watched her as she ordered and he realized how important it was for her to once again be in a situation where she was the one with knowledge and experience.

They ate their burgers and fries and Alvin did not hesitate to agree with Mary that there was not a burger chain in Maine as good. She beamed at him, obviously pleased that she had shown him something new.

As they left the restaurant, he dropped back a few steps and watched her walk to the car. She looked over her shoulder and saw him gazing at her. Turning, she leaned against the side of the car. In her denim shorts, white tank top and sunglasses, she looked every inch the California girl in her native habitat. Once, he might have fretted that she would miss home so much that she would leave him to return, but now, he felt confident that she would not, and he felt a great sense of appreciation for all she was sacrificing to be with him. He stepped up to her, put his arm around her waist, and kissed her, hard.

"Wow," Mary exclaimed, "The burger was that good, huh?"

He rested his forehead against hers. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?" he asked.

"I think I have some idea."

"Well, whatever your idea, it's more than that."

Mary kissed him on the nose. "Come on, baby," she said, "I know what you really want to see."

She weaved her way through the crowded street and on to yet another freeway.

"We've got one interstate in all of Maine," Alvin remarked, wondering how Mary ever kept them all straight. They drove a ways, then turned off, and Alvin caught a glimpse of blue horizon ahead of them. As they neared the ocean, a ferris wheel rose into sight. He was sure he had seen it in a movie once. Everything in Los Angeles looked like something he'd seen in a movie at one time or another.

"What is this place?" he asked.

"Santa Monica Pier."

Mary parked in the beach lot and they got out of the car. She started walking towards the pier, but after a few steps, she realized that Alvin was on a different course, heading straight for the beach. She veered and caught up with him, taking his hand. His eyes were fixed on the ocean. A two foot surf was lapping the beach, breaking on the sand and tumbling back. Alvin stopped about twenty feet above the high water line and watched for a while. He raised his face to the sky.

"The waves look like they are leading a storm front, but there's not a cloud in the sky."

"That's what it's always like, honey."

"It's not choppy, it just rolls."

Mary put her arms around him. "Maybe we will sail on it someday."

"I'd like that."

They stepped closer to the water. Mary kicked off her shoes and walked into the surf. Alvin squatted down, letting the water wash over his hands. He cupped his palms and raised them in front of his face, slowly letting the water trickle through his fingers. To Mary, it looked like a form of communion. It seemed like an intrusion to watch him. She walked a few steps along the beach and gazed out to sea.

A moment later, he was standing close behind her. He was humming to himself.

"What song is that?"

He sang, in his awkward, self conscious voice.

I have watched you from the shore

Standing by the oceans roar

Do you love me, do you surfer girl?

His voice broke on the last line. She looked at him, and said, with a catch in her own voice, "I do love you, Alvin."