by
Mary E. Overstreet
Willie was nicer to Julia the next morning because after breakfast she brought his clothes to him. She, however, didn't leave so he might change in private. He started anyway, annoyed but not feeling as embarrassed as he had been.
"Willie, I'd like you to do me a favor," she said, realizing her ploy to delay his getting dressed hadn't worked.
"Maybe, what is it?"
"See Barnabas before you go. Talk to him."
Willie thought that she would probably arrange that whether or not he agreed to it. "I really got nothin' to say to him."
"He feels terrible about everything that's happened to you. He's been very worried. Willie, he does care about you."
Willie's own bitterness came up. "Yeah, I'll bet he does. Just like you."
"Yes, I do care," she said softly. "And you cared about us. You gave up getting married to come back because you cared."
"I was stupid. And if you cared about me, you wouldn'ta helped him frame me." Willie looked straight at her, still only half dressed. "And you wouldn'ta made me take care of Adam and dig up that body." He knew this talk was getting to him and took a deep breath. "I never thought that robbin' one grave woulda led to all that."
"No one would have. And if you'll remember, Willie, I was willing to let you go rather than force you to dig up a grave. But that's all behind us now."
"Yeah." Willie's mind was still on the past, however. He was thinking he never should have let Barnabas trick him into digging up the body that was to become Eve. He had used Willie's feelings for Maggie as leverage. "I was jerk. I've been one all along. But now I'm gonna do the smartest thing I've ever done and forget this place exists. If I never come to Maine again, it'll be too soon."
"You know, Willie, I was wrong about you." Willie's asperity was infecting her. "When you forgave the things Barnabas did to you, I thought it was a sign of your character if nothing else. But you're not as generous as I thought you were."
He didn't know why he should let that bother him, but it hurt his feelings. "You expect too much." He looked at her, eyes filled with cold, acid pain. "I gave a lot to Barnabas, and he took and took, and when I didn't wanna give, he still took. And till recently, I never got nothin' out of it!" He went up to her. "And, ya know, I don't even want it now."
"Who do you think paid your hospital bills, Willie?"
He turned away, tucking his shirt into his pants. "I couldn't care less. I didn' want to be in the hospital."
"You would've died."
"Maybe not." He slipped his vest on and his tie, automatically beginning to tie it.
"Be realistic, Willie." She sighed. "Do you want to see Barnabas or not?"
"I already toldja, no." He changed his mind about the tie and pulled it off, letting it drop to the bed. He had absolutely no reason to wear it now.
"But, wouldn't you like to go back to the Old House and get your things?"
"Nothin' there that can't be replaced." Truly, Willie did want to get his casual clothes. This suit was not appropriate for drifting, and to drift was all he wanted to do now.
"Please, Willie."
"All right." He looked at her and shrugged. "Send him in or whatever. I don't care." He sat on the bed to put on his shoes.
Julia looked at him for a few moments, finding it sad and a personal failure that when he left she would never see him again. "Come down to the visiting room when you're ready. I'll have to call him."
"Okay." He looked through his wallet, ignoring her departure from the room. He still had thirty dollars, and he knew he had about fifty in his bank account. He certainly hadn't been able to save anything with Jack and Mace on his back. Willie wondered if Barnabas realized he had kept nothing for himself. He had given them everything of his before touching Barnabas' money. Willie thought he would probably be angry if he knew he had lost more than ten thousand.
Willie went down, finding the doors unlocked for him. He did not expect to have to wait for as long as he did. It was at least an hour before Barnabas showed up. Willie sat and thought about what he really felt for the other man. Resentment and anger and hurt, but he was surprised he couldn't say he hated him. After everything, Barnabas was trying to do right by him now. Well, let him, Willie thought, if Barnabas tried for the rest of his life, he could never make it up to him because Willie would have to live with the things he'd been through for the rest of his life.
Julia let Barnabas in, locking eyes with Willie for a moment, then looking down and retreating. Barnabas looked at Willie, wishing he knew what to say, whether or not he should try to apologize.
Willie had stood up, and his eyes viewed Barnabas for the first time as just another man. All bonds between them were broken. He felt no trace of fear or trepidation. His emotions were not dormant, however, he just did not care much any more.
"Willie," Barnabas began, "how are you?"
"I'm sure Julia toldja that." He couldn't bring himself to make it easy for him.
"Yes, she did." Willie's blue-grey eyes had a penetrating intensity that Barnabas found almost intimidating. He had never known Willie when he had not been under his influence. This hard-eyed man was someone he really didn't know. "Willie, I'm not going to press you about that money. I know—"
"Good. Wouldn't do ya any good. I'd just tell ya the same thing I told Julia."
"What?"
"Well, I happen to know a few things you wouldn't want anyone to know about."
"All right." Barnabas looked down and walked over to the couch to sit. "There's something I want to do, and it's only fair of me to do it."
"What?" Willie could see that Barnabas felt under pressure and that this was hard for him because Willie was unrelenting.
"Give you a ride and money to go where you want to go. I can imagine you would like to pick up your things from the Old House." He looked up at him. "Or you can stay and continue to work for me or with me."
"You gotta be kiddin'," Willie said in disbelief. "Even if I wanted to—which I don't—you don' think I could work for ya, knowin' you'd never trust me, do ya?"
Barnabas just looked at him and shook his head. "Why didn't you come to me, Willie? We could've worked something out."
The younger man turned away. "I got nothin' to say to ya about that. I'm sorry about the money, but that's it."
"I don't blame you for not trusting me. I used you badly and was cruel to you when you couldn't defend yourself. I just never understood you, Willie."
He found this wryly funny in a painful way. "Now you admit it. I understood you perfectly. At first anyway." Willie shook his head, still not turning around. "I was such an idiot."
"Willie, you were confused. That doesn't mean you were an idiot."
"I wasn't confused, Barnabas. I just couldn't think of all the alternatives after bein' in this hell hole." Willie couldn't decide whether or not he wanted Barnabas to know why he had behaved so erratically. Certainly no details. Maybe Julia told him already.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I don't think I wanna talk about it." Willie knew he had not stuck to what he'd told Julia about having nothing to say to Barnabas. But this was not turning out to be as painful as he'd thought it would be.
"All right. I know I'm responsible for your being kept here. But we all thought you had lost your mind."
Now it was getting painful. "Well, whataya expect?" He turned to look at him. "They put five bullets in my back when I was trying to save Maggie from you. Do you know how much it hurt when I woke up? An' how much it hurts—" He broke off, emotion having made his eyes start to get hot and his throat tighten. Willie turned his back again.
"I'm sorry, Willie. I really am sorry." Barnabas stood up, approaching within a foot or so. "I wish I could make it up to you."
Willie wondered if this one result of being in Barnabas' power would always plague him. He suspected it was a part of him he would never get rid of. He never used to cry, why couldn't he be that way again? But he wasn't crying now, he was in control of it. "Yeah, well, you can't."
"I want to do something for you."
"I'll bet. You want to ease your conscience."
"Yes, I admit that."
"I'll admit something too." He turned around, looking up at him. "Some of what happened I deserved for all the rotten things I did before I met you. I guess you could blame some of the other things on me, too—things that you did after I let ya out. Maybe I deserve it all, but I did everything I could to stop ya. It's just not fair. But I never believed life was fair." Enough philosophy, Willie thought. "Look, Barnabas, you an' I got no more reason to stay together. . . I gotta get on with my life. It's time Willie Loomis moved on."
"What'll you do?"
"I dunno." He shrugged, stepping away.
"Do you want your things?"
What could it hurt? he thought. "Yeah, I guess."
"I'll drive you. We can settle anything else on the way there."
"Okay." He wasn't surprised to see Julia on the way out. That he was finally leaving made him feel good enough to tell her goodbye.
"You may not believe me, Willie, but we'll miss you."
He had to force himself not to say that it was because they would no longer have anyone to do the dirty jobs. He just shrugged, looking at her and remembering so much, good and bad. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly sentimental. "Yeah, guess I'll miss you too," he said with difficulty.
She held out her hand, touched by his generosity.
Willie took it, looking at the woman and thinking, what the hell, might as well not be negative if he could be otherwise. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her. "Gotta learn somethin' from all this," he muttered.
Barnabas was shocked but not nearly so much as Julia. That Willie was letting his bitterness and resentment go was the most moving thing she had experienced in a very long time. She returned his hug and patted his back gently. "Good luck, Willie. You're a fine, sweet person. I'm proud to have known you."
Willie didn't let her go when he would have because he was trying to blink his eyes dry. This was not what he had expected at all.
Julia was also blinking to keep away the tears, but she knew Barnabas could tell. They released each other and stepped back. "Maybe you'll come see us sometime."
He felt immediate resistance inside and shook his head. "Gotta start over," he backed away. It wasn't that easy to forgive Julia. He had done as much as he could for now.
"I'll see you later, Julia," Barnabas said, and followed Willie out.
Willie was annoyed with himself for his display of feeling. He was afraid Barnabas would expect something similar. Their relationship was far more complicated, he could not just "let go" of the negativity where it concerned Barnabas. The man was too personally responsible for so much of Willie's suffering.
Neither man had much to say for a while. Barnabas finally asked him if he needed any money.
Always, thought Willie, but he could hardly ask for any and maintain any sense of integrity. "I gotta few bucks left."
"But what about in the bank? Weren't you saving up to buy a new car?"
"I was." Let him figure it out, he thought.
"You mean that's gone as well?" It was something Barnabas hadn't considered. Even though it meant more money lost to two hoodlums, it was enough that Willie had made his own sacrifices for whatever reason.
Willie didn't answer. It was no longer any of Barnabas' business. He stared out the car window at the passing Maine countryside. Spring was in full bloom, and he hadn't even noticed before. He sighed. It seemed a long drive, and he wanted to be elsewhere.
Concentrating on the road, Barnabas didn't speak again either. He was feeling the loss now. He had come to count on Willie quite a lot. The idea of never seeing him again was hard to accept. He had grown fond of Willie's quirky sense of humor, which had surfaced so rarely during the past winter that Barnabas had really missed it. And Willie had a style about him that had always fascinated the other man while he could never define it. Now of course Barnabas would have to hire someone to come in a few times a week and do household chores. His investing was again in his own hands.
He realized he still didn't know if Willie needed any money. "Willie, you haven't told me if you need money. You have a week's pay coming to you."
"For what? I haven't done anything for a week." Willie would have to be talked into taking it, but Barnabas was going about it the right way.
"That doesn't matter. It's sick pay. It'll help you get started."
"Don' worry about it. I can take care of myself with what I've got."
"Consider it a going away gift, then." He did worry that Willie would need enough money to travel to some place, and that would hold him over till he could get paid from some other job.
Willie looked at him. "Well, if you're that anxious to part with your money, okay." Barnabas was an odd man, he thought, never having studied him the way he did now. His face was so burned into Willie's mind that looking at him anew made him almost feel he had never seen him before. An eighteenth century man, driving a car in the twentieth century. He almost never thought of him being actually from the 1700s. Willie just knew he didn't want to be there himself.
"Good. And if there's anything else I can do, please don't hesitate to ask me."
"There's nothin'."
They were both silent the remainder of the trip. Willie had nothing to say, and Barnabas didn't know what to say.
It was an odd feeling to go into the Old House knowing it would be the last time. Willie went up stairs to "his" room to pack what he wanted to take with him. It seemed a waste to leave his suits, but he couldn't see himself wearing them, unless he was able to save enough money to go into business for himself. That didn't appeal to him at the moment; getting rid of all traces of the trouble he'd had did. He changed into street clothes, and hung his grey suit in the armoire. Someone had put away everything he had taken with him on that last trip, because his flightbag hung empty in the corner. He left it there and dug out his old suitcase and packed.
Down in the drawing room, Barnabas was wondering if there was anything he could do or say to get Willie to stay but knew there was not. He could sense Willie's bitterness in his tone of voice. At least he had forgiven Julia, he thought. She had needed it more than he.
But what about Carolyn? She had spent a great deal of time worrying about Willie, standing by in case she could help. Willie should at least bid her goodbye. Barnabas called Collinwood, sadness in his heart.
Willie looked over at the television. He doubted anyone would ever watch it now. He hadn't much in months except for news. Maybe Barnabas would hire a live-in. Probably not, the Old House held too many secrets.
He heard a car pulling up outside but could not see it from his window. He hoped whoever it was would not delay his departure. At the same time he was thinking of making a farewell visit to Carolyn since she had stood by him for so long. Embarrassed or not, he owed it to her.
He went downstairs, carrying his old suitcase. He was caught off guard seeing Barnabas admit Carolyn. He had not quite decided whether or not he was going to see her.
"Hello, Carolyn," he said slowly as she looked up at him. She seemed more uneasy than he.
"Hello, Willie."
"I was gonna ask Barnabas to run me by Collinwood to see ya before I left. Guess I won't have to now." He set his suitcase on the floor, looking up at Barnabas. "Would you excuse us?"
"Of course." Barnabas gave Carolyn a half-hearted smile then went upstairs.
"I suppose he told ya I was leavin' for good?" Willie said, ushering her into the drawing room where they each sat in a wing chair by the hearth.
"Yes." She looked at him. He seemed so calm and relaxed, and his eyes met hers steadily, apparently without fear or embarrassment. She was heartened by the change in him and felt her attraction to him renew itself.
"Well, I jus' decided I'd do a lot better for myself somewhere else." He looked into her deep blue eyes, feeling affection for her.
"You do what you have to do. I wish you weren't leaving, but I understand."
"I'm sorry, Carolyn. You been real good to me through all this." The pain came into his eyes and voice, and she knew he was scarred by everything that had happened. "I-I know I haven't been as nice as I shoulda been."
"No, Willie. Don't blame yourself. You were tolerant of me, even with what you were going through. That takes a lot of patience. You were kind."
Willie shook his head. "I was outta my mind." He swallowed the emotion. "It's all over with now. And the only reason I'm sorry to be leavin' is 'cause of you. But I just can't stay in this town. Not after what happened." He looked away. Collinsport would always think of him as a sniveling, spineless coward and potential kidnapper. How could he face a town full of people who would never change their opinions, knowing it wasn't true and caring whether or not people gave him some kind respect? He thought it was quite reasonable to want to start over somewhere that he didn't have the reputation of a coward. He'd rather remain anonymous anyway than be known for anything.
"I understand. But I'll always care about you wherever you are." She leaned forward and reached across to take his hand. "I'll miss you, Willie, but I'm glad you're better and through all that."
"Sorry I never gave us a chance." He held her hand in turn and looked at her again. "You're a gorgeous lady, Carolyn. You'll find somebody again." He stood up and pulled her into his arms for a gentle hug.
Carolyn held him, seeing in her mind that he needed it more than she did because his hands had been trembling just a little. Why did this have to be so good? she thought. She wanted him so badly. She felt tears start to form and pressed him closer. "I'm sorry, Willie. I always seem to want the wrong things," she whispered.
"It's not wrong." He pulled back enough to look at her. "I-I jus' can't think about a relationship right now. I'm sorry." He could see tears on her lower eyelashes; she did not try to hide them. "I always feel so bad about hurting you." He kissed her on her forehead.
"Don't feel bad. You've been through enough of that already. When I knew how much you were hurting, I stopped taking it personally. I wanted to help you so much."
Her talking about this was making him uncomfortable. "I know. It's okay now. I jus' gotta go." The longing in her eyes stirred up a mixture of feelings. He only knew he did not want to test himself now. But she did look very pretty, and her eyes told him she wanted to be kissed. He did it, feeling the softness of her lips and body and the pressure of her hands on his back and neck.
He ended it too soon, she thought, disappointed. "Maybe you'll come to visit me someday?"
"I dunno. I'll write ya." He released her.
"I'll miss you so much." She turned away from him, sighing and closing her eyes.
"I'm sorry." He regretted his helplessness, that he had hurt her.
"It's all right. So," she turned to him again, "where are you going first?"
"Dunno."
"I mean now. Can I drive you?"
And prolong this awkward parting? he thought. "No," he shook his head. "Thank you, I still gotta few things to settle with Barnabas."
"I guess I'd better go, then." She started for the door, back-stepping. "You take care of yourself, Willie. And please write to me. Let me know how you are."
"Okay." He went to open the door for her.
"Thanks."
"Guess my manners've improved since I first came, unh?" He smiled.
Simultaneously, they went to hug each other again. "So long, Carolyn," he whispered into her ear.
"Goodbye, Willie." Quickly, before it became too difficult, they let each other go. "Now you smile for me again. I want to remember you that way."
Slowly the corners of his mouth turned up as his feelings caught up with them. "You, too," he said.
She backed out the door, unable not to obey in response to his own sunburst smile. "You keep doing that, Willie, and no one could refuse you anything." She remembered the predatory smile he'd had when he first came to Collinwood with Jason. He had scared her because when he looked at her like that she had known he was capable of doing anything he wanted. There had been something cruel and ruthless about it. But now, he looked sweet and gentle, and charming in a spontaneous, guileless way.
"Thanks," he said, abashed. "Take it easy, Carolyn."
She nodded and turned around finally to walk away.
He shut the door and called Barnabas. Willie was ready to leave. A quick drive to the bus station, and he could say goodbye, or rather good riddance, to Collinsport forever.
Barnabas came down the stairs. "I have your pay, Willie," he said, handing him an envelope.
"Thanks. You ready to go? We got twenty minutes to get to the bus station."
"All right." Barnabas looked at him. Willie seemed somewhat nervous, and he looked a little sad. "But I wish you'd reconsider sometime and at least pay us a visit. I hate to lose you."
Willie picked up his bag. "I dunno, Barnabas. I lost too much here." He didn't let show the strong feelings that were churning in him. "I can't forget it. An' I won't be able to forgive ya till it doesn't hurt so much anymore. I figure I owe ya that much—to tell ya why I don' wanna come back. It jus' hurts too much now to forgive ya."
Barnabas nodded, looking down. "I understand. I'm glad you're all right at any rate." He went to the door and held it for him.
Willie stepped out of the Old House.
The End