The Smoke of Distant Autumn Fires

Without thinking he turned to face Susan. "Would you like to dance, My Lady?"

Surprised, but also feeling suddenly pleased, Susan quickly responded, "Why, yes, Kind Sir, I would much enjoy that."

She lifted her arms and Bob grasped her hand and let his other arm rest at her waist. Susan moved closer and clasped his shoulder as he lead her into the first step. He danced well. Again Susan was pleasantly surprised. Most engineers weren't really good dancers, their moves more precision and military than artistic, but Bob smoothly moved through the patterns, firmly leading, never stepping on her feet. By the time the song was half finished, she had relaxed and moved even closer, tucking her head against his shoulder.

They moved around the grassy field, turning to the music, losing themselves in each other. The song ended, but another started immediately and they never broke their stance, continuing to move with the new music. When this number ended, they stopped but did not release their grips. Instead they remained, staring into each other's eyes. Finally, Bob said, almost in a whisper, "I want to thank you for this. More than I can say."

He stood looking down at her and Susan opened her lips slightly, trying to think of a reply. Then, instead of speaking, she tilted her head up and brought her lips towards Bob's. He met her half way. For long minutes they stood, lips pressed warmly together, their arms around each other. The moonlight hadn't yet reached them where they stood, but the leaping flames of the fire alternated between highlighting them with a touch of gold and hiding them in black, inky shadows.

At last the kiss ended, but they remained together, looking silently into each other's eyes. Bob had his back turned mostly towards the fire, so for the most part Susan saw only deep shadows. But Bob had a view that was almost surreal. He stood entranced as the flickering flashes of firelight reflected from her eyes, from her face, from the golden highlights of her fine hair. A deep feeling of longing - not love and not lust, but a longing for something safe and warm and happy - welled up inside of him. He felt himself desperately reaching for something he vitally needed, something he had once had, but had now lost. Something he wanted more than anything else in the world. Yet he could not define what it was, could not even guess. He just knew that it was more important than anything and that if he missed finding it, he would regret it the rest of his life.

For her part, Susan was finding herself more strongly attracted to this man than she could remember having been to anyone for a long, long time. She hardly knew him! And yet, she thought, she knew and understood him to a depth that even years of contact with most men would never allow.

In the background they heard another song begin. Susan had her arms around Bob's neck and now pulled him closer, laying her face next to his, her warm breath washing over his neck. Slowly they began to once more sway to the music. This time their steps were small, mere shifts in position. They danced without words, each holding tightly to the other, their bodies pressed close. For the next hour the couple held each other as they moved to the music, staying together when the songs ended and kissing until the music once more brought them back to their slow movements.

At last as one song ended, as though by mutual consent, they separated, but keeping their arms wrapped around each other, moved over towards the fire, which had now descended to a pile of glowing coals and small bits of flame. A slight breeze had arisen and the cool night air sent a shiver up Susan's back, despite the thick sweater. Bob wrapped his arm more tightly around her and asked, "Getting cold? Do you want to go back now?"

Susan shook her head a little. "Not unless you want to. Let's build up the fire a little more and we can move the blanket over here."

Bob added wood and soon had the blaze restored while Susan brought the cotton blanket and spread it on the grass near the fire ring. Bob moved over to where she had placed the blanket. For a few seconds he just looked at it and then reached down and pulled it over so it was spread on the narrow strip of grass between one of the log benches and the fire. While Susan watched, he spread it out again and then sat down, his back resting against the log. He looked up at her and motioned. When she came to him, he pulled her slowly down and soon she was sitting on his lap, leaning back against him as he wrapped the sides of the blanket over them.

Susan relaxed against his chest, enjoying the warm, secure feeling of his arms about her. Not at all what she had planned for tonight. But, then, it was probably even less of what Bob had planned. But this thought lasted only a second as he pulled her closer against him. Planned or not, he certainly didn't seem to mind. She laid her hand over his and rested her head against the side of his cheek.

She inhaled the intoxicating man smell and realized she was feeling something she hadn't felt for some time. Arousal. Susan was not a virgin, but neither was she, as her parents' generation would have said, "fast." Of course, Susan's generation tried to pretend that "fast" was the normal state for all women. She smiled to herself. The Sexual Revolution. Free Love. Make Love, Not War. Their slogans covered the campus, but Susan had observed that the vast majority of the women her age were just as confused about sex and just as anxious about falling in love as all the previous generations. And, if anything, the men were even more uncertain.

Now, with her back resting closely on Bob's chest, his arms around her, she was feeling desire begin to flood through her. Her hand was still resting on Bob's and now she used it to move his hand upwards so that it rested over her breast. Bob inhaled sharply and Susan arched against him as the sudden pressures affected both of them. He let his hand remain gently closed over her, not demanding, not aggressive, but - content. Yes, she decided, that was the right word and it described her feelings also. She snuggled back even more closely.

For long minutes they remained like that - comfortable and still, watching the dancing flames and occasionally shivering in response to a sudden gust of the cool night air. Then finally Susan again took the lead and guided his hand back down towards her waist. But then she reversed her direction and pushed it back to her breast, but this time underneath of her sweater.

As his fingers slid over the warm, firm flesh she could feel a shiver pass through both of them and then his fingers touched her nipple and shivers were forgotten in the white hot sensation which engulfed her. She moaned and turned her head to meet his in a kiss which lasted for nearly a quarter hour. As the kiss progressed, so did their passion and when it was finally broken both were breathing hard and Susan could feel his arousal pressing against her leg.

For just an instant, the thought passed through her that perhaps the campus slogans were right, but then she knew that this was not just the casual encounter the current culture glorified, but something much deeper. But deeper or not, it was leading in one direction only and neither of the two made any effort to alter its path. In minutes the destination was reached and Susan arched her back and moaned into Bob's hard kiss as the heat of their bodies held the cool autumn breeze at bay.

But as the peak passed, the reality of the cool night returned and the two clung tightly to each other, again shivering, but this time in response to the cool night air caressing their bare skin. Unwilling to separate, they continued to hold each other tightly and managed to roll the blanket about them until once more they were snug in their own warm universe.

It was another three hours and two more episodes of wild passion before they reluctantly separated and dressed against the cool night. Susan kissed Bob again and whispered, "Let's go home," and the pair began to gather the remains of their picnic and started back to the jeep. The nearly full moon now flooded the park with its light, transforming the scene into a fairyland. Now and then a few clouds blew by, obscuring the bright orb and plunging the landscape into a magic realm of moving dark and brightly twinkling points of distant stars. Then the cloud would pass and silver light once again illuminated their world.

Bob sat close to Susan on the return drive, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, but neither spoke. When they pulled the jeep up beside the old house, he got out and went around to open the door for her. They picked up their possessions and started towards the door, but paused, as if by mutual agreement, to look up at the sky. Orion was high, the hunter chasing his game across the velvet field as he had done for eons. Suddenly, the bright trail of meteor streaked across the heavens from east to west. For a second its light outshone any star and then it faded from view, leaving only an afterimage in their eyes. Silently they made their way to the door and on inside.

Bob never used the sheets and blankets Susan had laid out for him. Instead, she drew him with her to her own room where they shared her bed and each other. Twice more, the last as the sun was just touching the distant ridges, they lost themselves in the merging of bodies and minds and passion, and then slipped into deep sleep.

Susan awoke to find herself spooned against Bob, his arm around her, his hand cupping her breast. She snuggled back against him as he stirred and kissed the back of her neck. She twisted around to kiss his lips and at that moment the phone rang.

The spell broke and Susan extracted herself, pulling on a robe as she got out of bed. She padded out of the room to answer the phone and Bob sighed and got up, picking up his clothes and pulling them on. A few seconds later Susan called, "Bob, it's Frank for you." He thought her voice had a slightly sad sound to it and in that second felt a melancholy wash over himself. He followed her voice and took the offered receiver.

After a few yeses and nos he thanked Frank and hung up. He turned back to Susan and said, "He says we lucked out. He'll have a new distributer here in another hour and I can have the car back by one at the latest." He looked at his watch and saw it was already after ten. He looked at Susan again. "May I make a call to Montreal? I'll use a credit card."

Susan forced a smile. "Sure. I'll see if I can find us some breakfast."

A few minutes later Bob came into the kitchen where Susan was setting out two bowls of oatmeal. "Did they understand about missing your meeting?" she asked.

"Not only understood, they've been trying to reach me. Seems one of their big cheeses came down with a twenty-four hour flu and they wanted to postpone the meeting until Monday."

"That's good," she said, and although there was a smile on her face, there was a sadness in her voice.

For the next two hours, Bob and Susan talked. Their conversations ranged over a thousand topics, but somehow the magic of the previous night seemed to have vanished, or, if not vanished, at least receded into hiding. They opened some canned soup for lunch and both tried to pretend that nothing had changed. But, try as she might, Susan kept seeing the hard edged driven Bob slipping out. The man who wanted success even if he only thought he knew what it was.

About a quarter of one, Bob gathered his things and Susan drove him back over to the Standard station. She waited quietly while Frank and Bob talked about his car and Bob settled the bill. Finally, everything was ready and Bob prepared to leave. He came back over to Susan and put his hands on her shoulders. "I really do want to thank you for all your help," he started. "And for everything else. I hope this won't be the last time I see you - I will be back. I just need to get this sales talk out of the way."

Although Susan could see a little of last night's Bob in his face now, she knew he was rapidly slipping back into his former self. She forced a smile and, just before Bob turned to go, reached up and pulled him down into a kiss. "Don't forget," was all she said.

As he climbed into his car and started down the road, Susan heard the sweet, sad strains of Peter, Paul, and Mary singing "500 Miles" coming from the radio inside the station. She blinked away a tear and half whispered, "I'll miss you. Have a good life."

Bob continued to lie back in the comfortable chair on the screened porch, his eyes closed as he recalled everything. All that had taken place nearly forty years ago. It is surprising, he mused, on just how small a thing our lives can turn. A broken car, a ride from a helpful stranger. A missed meeting and a case of flu. The little things can make the biggest differences. The difference between dreams and existence. A cusp, a choice which, once missed, can never be brought back again.

He heard a car pull up outside and thought his wife must have come back home. The door opened and he heard her steps through the kitchen and on to out to the porch, but he remained where he was, his eyes closed.

The footsteps stopped and she spoke. "Sleeping away the afternoon again?"

He opened his eyes and turned towards her. She was still slim, and her hair still gold even if it got a little help from a bottle now. Her face just as lovely, her eyes the same deep indigo. He smiled at her and her eyes sparkled in return. "No, just thinking, Lover."

"Well, maybe you should give some thought to what you want to do about supper," Susan said, smiling at him.

Yes, Bob's little thing that had changed his life had taken place two weeks after the meeting in Montreal. He was driving home from work on a Friday night, late as usual, when he realized he probably had nothing in the apartment to eat for supper. He saw a small grocery just ahead and quickly turned into the parking lot, intending to grab a quick TV dinner. His briefcase on the back seat was filled with work for the weekend and he still wanted to get some of it done tonight.

As he stepped from the car, the little event that changed his life happened. A sudden shift in the October breeze brought the distinct scent of burning leaves and that familiar odor made him freeze in his tracks. In an instant he saw in his mind's eye, two diverging paths leading away from him. One, the major road, headed to the vice presidency he had been pursuing the last two years - a clear path with few obstacles in the way. The other was less clear. A side road which led to a foggy future - but it first passed that small New Hampshire town and a girl with golden hair.

For ten long seconds, Bob stood, frozen in place, not seeing the parking lot or store, but visualizing something else entirely. Then he turned back to his car and started out again, driving directly to his apartment. He stopped only for five minutes to change clothes and throw a couple of things in a case. Then he was back in his car, driving hard for New Hampshire, not even knowing if Susan would be at home this weekend or if she would even want to see him if she was.

She was and she did. Two weeks later, Bob gave notice, surprising his boss and his coworkers. He found a job, at a much lower income, in the college town where Susan was attending grad school and began a second career writing technical materials for engineering products.

Now he looked up at his wife and replied, "We could probably find something to eat here. Or we could drive to Boston, book a room at the Hilton, and have a late supper at a nice five star restaurant, if you would like." There had been a time when such a comment would have been a joke, but money was no longer tight, and they could well afford to do just that.

Susan seemed to consider this. Slowly she answered, "We can if you would like. I was thinking of something a little different, a nicer meal, I think."

"Oh, and what might that be?" Bob asked.

"Well, I thought we might get a couple of hot dogs and go over to the county park for a wiener roast."

A slow smile flowed across Bob's face. "You are right. That would be much better. But first come over here a minute."

She walked across the room to where he was sitting. "Sit on my lap a minute first," he said, pulling her down across his legs.

Susan settled onto his thighs and rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling close. His hand slid up under her sweater and closed over a firm breast. Susan sighed and snuggled a little more as Bob said, "I needed that. It's been such a long time."

Susan arched her eyebrows at him. "A long time? All the way since seven o'clock this morning."

"Like I said, a long time," Bob replied and snuggled her down a little closer.

They sat together like that for a couple of minutes, content in each other. Then Susan made a move to stand up. "Another minute or two," Bob said. "We're not in any real hurry, are we?"

Susan shook her head and settled back against him. He closed his eyes again and remembered. He remembered the first years when money was tight, but love was never in short supply. He remembered the first cry of a baby boy and the look on Susan's face as the tiny mouth sought her. And a second tiny face two years later, a girl this time. He remembered ball games and ballet lessons and vacations and picnics. He remembered watching a grown daughter, clad in black gown and mortarboard and then again in a white dress as he placed her hand in that of a young man. He remembered a young man, a new blue uniform, as a different young girl pinned gold bars on his shoulders. And he remembered Susan, in a million times and places.

He pulled her close to him and once again thought how fragile the fabric of their lives, how a small event could alter everything and make a good life wonderful. And now if he closed his eyes and opened his other senses, above the rustling of the autumn leaves and the gentle breeze, if he concentrated, he could just hear the sound of far off youthful laughter and smell the smoke of distant autumn fires.