Chapter Four of My Novel
4
Camilla sat in the last booth in the row, the one no one ever wanted to sit in because the vinyl was split and always caught your nylons. One more glance at the letter in her hand convinced her of her loneliness. Christopher had been gone for nearly three years working as a translator for the military.
At times she was proud that her husband was fluent in Vietnamese and was able to serve the country by translating documents to help the war effort. At other times she was angry that he had felt so compelled to serve his country and left her after only a year of marriage for the Navy. Most of the time she was just lonely.
Camilla felt robbed of her time as a newlywed. Most of that first year of marriage was spent talking about whether Christopher should enlist or not. Camilla had thought they agreed that he should stay with her and work on creating a home that could welcome children to it. She was working as a waitress at the time, but she wanted to become a teacher. He had been at the beginning of a promising career as a college instructor and was working on dissertation that could propel him to a larger university professorship. The home they shared was a massive craftsman that needed some work so that children would have rooms suited to their needs. But those were all things that they could do together in time.
Before Christopher had left, Camilla was going to go to school to get her teaching license as soon as he received tenure. Having a steady income was going to be needed, and until then Camilla was happy working in the diner, talking to people about their day. The diner was close to the pier and many mornings crew members headed to far away ports stopped in for one last meal on dry land before heading out for weeks on the fishing boats.
The idealistic dream of a stable future was short lived. Nine months after they were married Christopher came home and announced that he would be leaving for bootcamp the next month. It seems that he had an attack of conscious and could not see one more young man drafted into a conflict when he could do something to help it come to an end more quickly. It seems that he was persuaded that his ability to translate could help save lives in some way. He was leaving, and did not know when he would be returning.
The boat of marital bliss sank as Christopher sailed away.
Folding the letter and placing it in her pocket, Camilla slid out of the booth. Small town diners can be busy, but most of the time is spent chatting with the few regulars that drink coffee all day. Camilla liked to work the breakfast shift and leave after the lunch rush. Some of her favorite people were the old men that met every morning at five thirty for coffee and a donut. They religiously sat in the same booth, in the same seats, and talked about the same half dozen events that colored their glory days.
Brooks Laurence was one of this group that she looked forward to seeing every day. He had traveled the world after his time in the Army after WWII. He had seen quite a bit of action in France, and managed to come home with a renewed zest for life, rather than with the misanthropic view many of his buddies had. Brooks lit up as he told the tales of sailing on the French Rivera, seeing the Eiffel Tower, and sitting in cafe after cafe learning French from beautiful women. Camilla had the feeling that he had been quite the heartbreaker in his day and that he saved the very best of his memories for himself.
“Cami,” Brooks was known to take liberties with the names of those he liked. The fact that Camilla had become “Cami” for the first time in her life was something she was enjoying. “Cami, when are you going to travel for yourself?”
“Brooks, that’s something of a question, isn’t it? I don’t really know that it’s something that is safe for me at the moment.”
One of the things that Camilla hated about her husband being so far away was that she felt trapped in this small town. Before they had married, both had enthusiastic dreams about traveling the world and seeing all of the places they have read about in stories: The land of Ur, the shores of Beowulf, and the exotic tropical landscape of India. Now that Christopher was away, Camilla regretted not pushing to go somewhere when they had had the time.
“Cami, there is always a reason for not doing something if you look hard enough. Sometimes you need to ignore those reasons and live a little.” Brooks’ eyes sparkled with a Puckish mischief and he grinned like he was up to something.
“Here’s your coffee Brooks, and I’ll take your advice under consideration.” Camilla smiled as she refilled his ceramic mug and turned to help some men from the docks who had come in for breakfast.
As Camilla filled coffee cups, took orders, and delivered piping hot plates of food she thought about what Brooks had said. She knew that he was right. Her entire life had been spent thinking about reasons why she shouldn’t do things. She decided not to go to college because of the anxiety meeting so many new people had caused her. She didn’t travel because of the dangers she imagined lurking around every corner on the road, even though nothing bad had ever happened to her when she did go on a trip. She didn’t sail because she might get sea sick, even though many of the people she met had invited her out for whale watching.
When it came to brass tax, Camilla hadn’t really ever done something because she wanted to or because it made her happy. She hadn’t even married Christopher because it made her happy; she had married Christopher because when he asked it was to frightening to say no and risk never having the chance to have a family again. She was happy enough with Christopher when he had been around every day, but now that he was gone Camilla had begun to wonder what life was like when you made choices because you were excited about life rather than being afraid of it.
Take this job. Camilla worked hard and she knew that she was a good waitress. Her customers tipped her well, and she managed to chat with everyone just the right amount so that each person felt welcome but not bothered. She had had the job since she had returned from her attempt at college. People had offered her other jobs that might have paid more and may have been more personally fulfilling to her, but she didn’t know. “Rather the devil you know” could be her motto and she never risked change for the fear it would turn out worse than what she had to begin with. What kind of life was she living?
Camilla realized with a start that she was not going to have any stories to share with her children if she kept living as she did. The things that she admired in Brooks, his adventures and his hard won stories, were something that she had no experience with. The turbulence that made his stories interesting, the twists that he had journeyed and the bumps that he had survived, were absent from the landscape of her own life.
Camilla resolved to start looking for some better scenery for her memories.
After work that day, Camilla went to the library. If she couldn’t travel alone, she could at least plan a trip and be ready to go when Christopher returned.
Camilla sat in the last booth in the row, the one no one ever wanted to sit in because the vinyl was split and always caught your nylons. One more glance at the letter in her hand convinced her of her loneliness. Christopher had been gone for nearly three years working as a translator for the military.
At times she was proud that her husband was fluent in Vietnamese and was able to serve the country by translating documents to help the war effort. At other times she was angry that he had felt so compelled to serve his country and left her after only a year of marriage for the Navy. Most of the time she was just lonely.
Camilla felt robbed of her time as a newlywed. Most of that first year of marriage was spent talking about whether Christopher should enlist or not. Camilla had thought they agreed that he should stay with her and work on creating a home that could welcome children to it. She was working as a waitress at the time, but she wanted to become a teacher. He had been at the beginning of a promising career as a college instructor and was working on dissertation that could propel him to a larger university professorship. The home they shared was a massive craftsman that needed some work so that children would have rooms suited to their needs. But those were all things that they could do together in time.
Before Christopher had left, Camilla was going to go to school to get her teaching license as soon as he received tenure. Having a steady income was going to be needed, and until then Camilla was happy working in the diner, talking to people about their day. The diner was close to the pier and many mornings crew members headed to far away ports stopped in for one last meal on dry land before heading out for weeks on the fishing boats.
The idealistic dream of a stable future was short lived. Nine months after they were married Christopher came home and announced that he would be leaving for bootcamp the next month. It seems that he had an attack of conscious and could not see one more young man drafted into a conflict when he could do something to help it come to an end more quickly. It seems that he was persuaded that his ability to translate could help save lives in some way. He was leaving, and did not know when he would be returning.
The boat of marital bliss sank as Christopher sailed away.
Folding the letter and placing it in her pocket, Camilla slid out of the booth. Small town diners can be busy, but most of the time is spent chatting with the few regulars that drink coffee all day. Camilla liked to work the breakfast shift and leave after the lunch rush. Some of her favorite people were the old men that met every morning at five thirty for coffee and a donut. They religiously sat in the same booth, in the same seats, and talked about the same half dozen events that colored their glory days.
Brooks Laurence was one of this group that she looked forward to seeing every day. He had traveled the world after his time in the Army after WWII. He had seen quite a bit of action in France, and managed to come home with a renewed zest for life, rather than with the misanthropic view many of his buddies had. Brooks lit up as he told the tales of sailing on the French Rivera, seeing the Eiffel Tower, and sitting in cafe after cafe learning French from beautiful women. Camilla had the feeling that he had been quite the heartbreaker in his day and that he saved the very best of his memories for himself.
“Cami,” Brooks was known to take liberties with the names of those he liked. The fact that Camilla had become “Cami” for the first time in her life was something she was enjoying. “Cami, when are you going to travel for yourself?”
“Brooks, that’s something of a question, isn’t it? I don’t really know that it’s something that is safe for me at the moment.”
One of the things that Camilla hated about her husband being so far away was that she felt trapped in this small town. Before they had married, both had enthusiastic dreams about traveling the world and seeing all of the places they have read about in stories: The land of Ur, the shores of Beowulf, and the exotic tropical landscape of India. Now that Christopher was away, Camilla regretted not pushing to go somewhere when they had had the time.
“Cami, there is always a reason for not doing something if you look hard enough. Sometimes you need to ignore those reasons and live a little.” Brooks’ eyes sparkled with a Puckish mischief and he grinned like he was up to something.
“Here’s your coffee Brooks, and I’ll take your advice under consideration.” Camilla smiled as she refilled his ceramic mug and turned to help some men from the docks who had come in for breakfast.
As Camilla filled coffee cups, took orders, and delivered piping hot plates of food she thought about what Brooks had said. She knew that he was right. Her entire life had been spent thinking about reasons why she shouldn’t do things. She decided not to go to college because of the anxiety meeting so many new people had caused her. She didn’t travel because of the dangers she imagined lurking around every corner on the road, even though nothing bad had ever happened to her when she did go on a trip. She didn’t sail because she might get sea sick, even though many of the people she met had invited her out for whale watching.
When it came to brass tax, Camilla hadn’t really ever done something because she wanted to or because it made her happy. She hadn’t even married Christopher because it made her happy; she had married Christopher because when he asked it was to frightening to say no and risk never having the chance to have a family again. She was happy enough with Christopher when he had been around every day, but now that he was gone Camilla had begun to wonder what life was like when you made choices because you were excited about life rather than being afraid of it.
Take this job. Camilla worked hard and she knew that she was a good waitress. Her customers tipped her well, and she managed to chat with everyone just the right amount so that each person felt welcome but not bothered. She had had the job since she had returned from her attempt at college. People had offered her other jobs that might have paid more and may have been more personally fulfilling to her, but she didn’t know. “Rather the devil you know” could be her motto and she never risked change for the fear it would turn out worse than what she had to begin with. What kind of life was she living?
Camilla realized with a start that she was not going to have any stories to share with her children if she kept living as she did. The things that she admired in Brooks, his adventures and his hard won stories, were something that she had no experience with. The turbulence that made his stories interesting, the twists that he had journeyed and the bumps that he had survived, were absent from the landscape of her own life.
Camilla resolved to start looking for some better scenery for her memories.
After work that day, Camilla went to the library. If she couldn’t travel alone, she could at least plan a trip and be ready to go when Christopher returned.
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