“You arrived Saturday. The baby was born yesterday afternoon, and now, it’s Monday night.”
“I can’t believe it.” Carlynn sat up. “I’m a lazy lump.”
“I brought you some rice and veggies,” Penny said. “They’re still a little bit warm from dinner. You ready for them?”
Carlynn nodded. “But then I have to find a phone somewhere, Penny,” she said. “I have to call Alan and tell him I’ll be here a few more days.”
“The nearest phone is miles and miles away,” Penny said. “I tell you what. Everyone’s agreed that you should have the next shower. The water’s heated up and ready for you. So, how about you get up, go use the shower, have some food, and meanwhile, I’ll borrow your car and go call Alan. How’s that sound?”
She would have liked to speak with Alan herself, but the thought of a shower, food and a little more time in bed sounded even more appealing at that moment. “All right,” she said. “Oh! But my car is on empty.”
“I’ll borrow Terence’s van, then. Just give me the number.”
She wrote down Alan’s numbers at both the center and their row house, as well as Lisbeth and Gabriel’s, in case Penny had trouble finding Alan. Then she dragged herself out of bed, picked up one of Penny’s flashlights from the floor and headed outside, walking toward the latrine.
The rest of the week went quickly, and it was a week Carlynn knew she had needed for herself. She’d had no vacations the past few years. The center was truly her life, and she had never considered taking a break from it, but the peace here, the lack of contact with newspapers and television and the rest of the world, was rejuvenating beyond anything she might have expected. She enjoyed holding the baby whose life she had, perhaps, saved, and the thought of leaving the infant, of never seeing her again, was distressing in a way she couldn’t understand. Everyone at the commune called the baby’s survival a miracle, but she was not sure. All she knew was that she could now hold in her arms a beautiful little girl who would probably not have survived had she not been at the commune. Maybe that had been the reason for Penny losing her voice, everyone said, to draw Carlynn here at that exact moment, to make her part of some huge, cosmic plan. Carlynn neither knew nor cared if their rationale was the truth. That sort of thinking only annoyed the scientist in her.
Penny’s voice came back in force on Thursday morning, and Thursday night there was a celebration around the bonfire in honor of Carlynn Shire, the straight woman doctor who turned down marijuana and hashish and LSD and cheap wine, who had given them Shanti Joy and had allowed them to hear Penny’s true voice in song for the first time.
Lisbeth was typing letters for Carlynn when Alan walked into the reception office at the Carlynn Shire Medical Center the following afternoon. He stood in the doorway, his hands on his hips.
“When the heck is Carlynn coming home?” he asked.
Lisbeth turned to look at him. She understood Alan’s frustration. She, too, felt the void Carlynn left by not being at the center, and Alan had to be experiencing it at home, as well. That they were unable to communicate with Carlynn except through that one phone call from Penny made her absence that much more difficult.
“This weekend, I’m sure,” Lisbeth said. “She has to be back by Monday, because her appointments start up again then.”
“I feel like I don’t know her anymore,” Alan said glumly.
“Oh, Alan, that’s silly.”
“I know, but I haven’t gone a day without talking to her in over ten years.”
“Maybe she’s been seduced by communal life,” she joked, but Alan looked so distraught that she wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “Why don’t we go get her?” she suggested.
Alan looked surprised. “I’d thought of that myself, actually, but I don’t even know where she is, exactly.”
“Well, we know she’s in a commune in Big Sur,” Lisbeth said. “We can ask around. The locals will probably know where it is.”
Alan looked at his watch. “All right. If you’re serious, let’s do it.”
“Let me call Gabe and see if he wants to go with us,” she said, excited at the thought of the adventure.
“It’s nearly four o’clock,” Alan said. “I have some notes to finish up. Should we wait until tomorrow?”
“No,” Lisbeth said, suddenly anxious to get on the road. “Let’s go tonight.”
“We won’t be able to find anything in the dark,” Alan protested.
“I know a lodge where we can stay,” Lisbeth said. Lloyd Peterson had once told her about a lodge he liked in Big Sur. “Might be tough to get a room, since it’s a Friday, but let me try. That way, we’d be there bright and early tomorrow and could start looking.”
Alan nodded and smiled. “I can’t wait to see her,” he said. “Thanks, Liz.”
There was a full moon hanging in the sky over the ocean, but the winding road was still too dark for Lisbeth’s comfort. They were nearing Big Sur on Highway One. The little reflectors built into the line in the middle of the road formed a long string of lights, and she and Alan were alone out here. It was spooky, she thought. They didn’t see another car as Lisbeth’s Volkswagen Beetle crept around each curve.
“It’s actually better to drive this road at night than in the daytime,” Alan reassured her. “You can see the lights of cars coming around the curve. In the daytime, you’d have no idea what’s waiting for you around the bend.”
Lisbeth supposed he was right, but still she turned each corner gingerly, her stomach beginning to protest a little. Gabriel had been unable to come with them, and she was driving, since Alan thought he was a better navigator. The green bug strained a bit on the inclines, and she was relieved when they found the road leading to the lodge. She pulled into the parking lot close to the building.
Inside the lodge, the man behind the desk handed them a key.
“It’s for one of the cabins behind the main building,” he said. “Number four. Very nice. Fully furnished.”
“We need two beds, though,” Lisbeth said.
“Right,” the man said. “It has two twins. You can push them together if you like.”
