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Chapter 16

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I’d convinced Maddie to let me skip dinner and stayed in bed, hiding in the dark until sleep finally overtook me. Before I knew it, bright sunlight streamed through the long blinds. I stretched and yawned.

Maddie was already up and dressed. “I guess you needed to catch up. I’ve never seen anyone sleep so soundly.”

The smell of coffee and bacon brought me to sitting and I ran my hands through my hair, shaking off the sleepiness. My stomach rumbled. “Are we in port already?”

“We put into Tunis about an hour ago.” Maddie opened the curtains and drew back the blinds, forcing me to shield my eyes. “Hurry up and get dressed. You don’t want to miss our welcome from the locals.”

I dragged myself out of bed and followed Maddie onto our balcony, still in my pajamas. A blast of desert heat took my breath away. My eyes widened as I took in the ancient city port of La Goulette, Tunisia. A band of several men and women in brightly colored outfits, all of them with dark faces and heads covered, danced, sang, and played drums in greeting. A half a dozen camels lay with their long legs folded beneath them waiting for their masters to put them to work. A photographer was taking pictures of a tourist petting the camels and posing as if he in his Red Sox baseball cap and plaid golf shorts belonged in the exotic setting.

I ran to wash up and dress, chowed my breakfast as if I hadn’t eaten in a month, and rushed to the auditorium to get our sticker and join our tour of the North African cities of Carthage and Sidi Bou Said. Maddie let go of the events of the day before, but I noticed Ethan’s conspicuous absence from our tour group.

As we walked down the gangplank and stepped onto the dock, Maddie insisted I pose with one of the camels. As silly as I felt, the experience seemed surreal. I petted its soft nose and reveled in the crazy long eyelashes that gave the creature an awkward and gentle beauty. Captivated, I looked into her eyes and saw my reflection, which drew me even closer. When the trainer offered to have me sit atop the saddled hump on her back, I eyed Maddie, who smiled and nodded approval.

“Go ahead, darling. Seize the day! You may not have another chance to do something like this again.”

Her words struck me and as much as I wanted to remind her of how she’d just put the kibosh on my budding romance, I immediately thought of Amanda. If she were here, she wouldn’t hesitate. She wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of what she wanted. And she wouldn’t let a good time pass her by. My sister was all about living life to the fullest, experiencing everything she could.

I wondered if somehow she’d known her life would be cut short. Or if maybe her adventurous spirit was what had made her so reckless. I’d probably never know for sure, and the truth most likely lay somewhere in the middle. Torn between my apprehension about climbing onto the large animal and the excitement of trying something so out of the ordinary, I decided it was now or never.

I climbed aboard the camel and clung to the saddle horn as it rose to its feet. My heart beat faster as the man led me around the dock. The rocking motion was disconcerting, but I quickly adjusted and soon I relaxed into the seat. A wide grin spread across my face.

“This is amazing, Maddie! Don’t you want to try it?”

She laughed. “I’m afraid my days of camel jockeying are over, sweetie. I’ll just stay down here and enjoy taking pictures.” She snapped another shot of me waving over my shoulder as the trainer led the camel back to its station. Her front legs folded down like an accordion until she settled to the ground. I slid off and joined Maddie, the two of us falling in line with the other tourists headed for the buses.

“I wonder where Ethan is,” Maddie said.

I shrugged, settling into a seat next to the window on the air-conditioned bus. I hated to tell her how badly I’d messed things up with him the day before. He probably wouldn’t want to see me again for the remainder of the trip. My heart sank. I hadn’t meant to take out my frustrations on him. Maybe I’d just been jet lagged or PMS’ing. Or maybe, as the Medusa Lady had warned me, without my pot habit, I’d have to face my feelings. Her voice rang in my ear. “An addiction is anything that comes between you and dealing with your feelings.”  Whatever my issue, I felt better after a good night’s sleep and some time alone.

I thought about how much I missed my friends, my guitar, and hanging out getting stoned at Thompson Lake with D.D. and Sami. They always had plenty of drama to keep things interesting, and they knew where all the best parties were. Twelve more days and I’d be that much closer to being home. Then, things could get back to normal—whatever that meant. An edgy sensation moved through me as the bus pulled away from the docks. So much hinged on how my mother recovered from her breakdown and whether Mitch would put up with me for another school year while I figured out if I wanted to go to college or simply get some minimum wage job and bum around for a year or so—an appealing alternative to dealing with real life.

The bus ride to Carthage was uneventful, with Maddie “resting her eyes” and leaving me to take in the sights and listen to the tour guide. The buildings we passed were mostly white with sky blue roofs, many of them homes and businesses with Tunisian people stationed outside their shops waving the tourists in out of the bright sun. Beyond the villages the desert loomed, everything in its path a dull, sandy brown. Flat-roofed buildings of the same color, some in disrepair and others modern and sturdy but equally as non-descript, dotted the roadway, making the scenery appear monochromatic and desolate. When we reached our destination, I woke Maddie.

“Oh, I must have dozed off.” She stretched and pulled herself together. “Sylvio—the lovely man playing at the piano bar,” she clarified while adjusting her hair, “kept us all up until past midnight singing old Broadway show tunes.” Viewing herself in a compact mirror, she fixed her lipstick and laughed. “I haven’t had such fun in eons.”

We shuffled off the bus and out into the hundred-degree day.

“Are you having any fun on this trip, Alexis?” She asked, her tone serious.

“I guess I am...sure.” I hated to sound ungrateful. I wasn’t so dense that I didn’t realize how much it must have cost to take me with her on the cruise. I’m sure I had Grandpa Henry to thank, but she could just as easily have sent me packing back home to face the firing squad after my little party detour in Malibu. I took the high road and kept my attitude in check. “It was really nice of you to bring me, Maddie. And, well...thanks.”

A smile curled her ruby red lips. “You’re welcome, darling. I’m glad we’ve had this time together.” She tugged her floppy hat lower and slid a pair of large sunglasses on. “Now, let’s go see where the Carthaginians practiced human sacrifice.”

∞∞∞

Carthage as a city, it turned out, had been around for three thousand years or so, and they did indeed, practice human sacrifice—according to the tour guide, a deeply tanned man with dark shaved hair, large, deep set blue eyes and an amiable expression.

“During the Punic era when the Phoenicians inhabited the land, they would routinely sacrifice women and children to appease their gods.” Muhammad, aka “Mike,” said as he led us into another world. An eerie energy pervaded the mazelike structures. Long tunnels between buildings and large pieces of stone lay in columns, the rubble of an ancient city that had seen many wars. “The Romans finally conquered the city around the time of Christ when they were taking over most of the rest of the European empire. Six hundred years or so later the Muslims took over and ruled for many centuries.” Mike turned his back and headed for the next destination on our tour, his words echoing off the stone walls on either side of us.

As I followed the other tourists through the archways and down the long narrow paths, it struck me again that nothing lasts forever. Even these thick walls and this once powerful and rich city had been beaten down by time and erosion, defeated by battle wounds and death.

After a few hours of wandering the ruins of Carthage in the desert heat, Maddie looked wilted. “I think you’d better rest here in the shade,” I said, concerned she would have another episode and wishing Ethan were with us.

Maddie plunked into a plastic chair next to a table at a snack bar not far from the buses. A large umbrella overhead offered shade. I brought her a bottle of water. “Stop fretting over me, Lexi. I’m fine.” She fanned her face with her hat. I frowned, unconvinced, and sat beside her, struck by the signs of her age.

“Why does life have to be so hard all the time?” I asked, kicking back in my chair and sipping on my own bottle of ice cold water.

“It gets easier, trust me,” Maddie answered. She smirked and arched a brow at me. “Then it gets harder again. Life is full of ups and downs, darling. That’s what keeps it so interesting.” Maddie gazed out at the brilliant blue sea beyond the walled tower overlooking the harbor. “You must miss your sister.” She reached over and patted my hand, a sympathetic expression deepening the lines around her eyes.

“And Mom,” I said, reluctance in my tone.

“That’s perfectly understandable.”

After a slight hesitation, I added, “I hate that I didn’t get to say good-bye.”

“To your mother or Amanda?”

“Both,” I whispered, the words caught in my throat.

“Your mother knows you love her.” A sad smile drew her red lips into a tight line and then she added softly, “I’m sure Amanda knew it too.”

“Did she? I don’t remember the last time I told her.” Tears welled below the surface as I focused on the tower at the end of a narrow strip of land. The gray turrets against the clear sky appeared unyielding and cold, like sentinels set to keep intruders at bay.

“Of course she knew. Just as you know how much she loved you.” Her certainty drew my attention and our gazes met, the blue in her eyes warmer than I’d ever seen.

“I still wish I’d done things differently.”

“We all do, sweetie. Regrets are an unfortunate consequence of youth.” She winked and peeled a red curl away from her sweat soaked skin. “Sometimes even old folks screw up. Look at it this way. You have an opportunity to learn one of the hardest lessons in life, and learn it early.”

“Really? What’s that?” I asked, unsure if I wanted an answer.

“There are consequences to all of our actions...and inactions. But we can’t blame ourselves forever. There comes a time when we have to accept that we are human and move on—forgive ourselves and others, and let go of the things we can’t change.”

“Is that followed by having the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference?” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve had enough lecturing about the consequences of my actions to last me a lifetime, and the rest sounds like something out of an AA brochure.” A wry smile quirked my lips. “How did we go from me asking why life is so hard to a preview of a recovery meeting?”

She released a lyrical laugh—one that was slowly growing on me. “I’m not lecturing you, dear. And those AA people might know what they’re talking about. Letting go and letting God, and all that.” She shook a bony finger in my direction. “We all need to stop holding onto the past and focus on the future.” She closed her eyes, tilted her face to the sky as if hoping for a breeze, and then fanned herself again.

I wasn’t sure I could ever let go of Amanda—or the guilt I carried over having failed her in so many ways. I swiped a hand across my forehead as a bead of sweat trickled from my hairline. The sun’s rays peeked over the edge of the umbrella.

“I just wish the sand would stop shifting under my feet and life would stay the same for a while.” But I knew that wasn’t possible and that it wasn’t what I truly wanted anyway. I wanted things to be different, I wanted not to hurt anymore, and I wanted my mom to be better. I wanted to be done with high school and off on my own, and I wanted Ethan to be a part of my life. I wanted it all...but uncertainty had me paralyzed.

Maddie’s voice pulled me to attention. “Isn’t life such a miraculous journey?”

I raised a sweaty brow. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

Undeterred, Maddie flashed me her best stink-eye and continued, “Don’t be fresh with me. I’m making a point. One person dies, another is born. We age and die, but that isn’t the end. The journey continues. I can’t say with any certainty that there is a heaven, but I have come to see every part of life as a transformation. It’s all part of a beautiful plan, Lexi. You simply have to believe there is a reason for everything and trust that someday you’ll understand.”

“I don’t think I can.” Unwilling to see my sister’s death as part of a grand plan, or accept the idea that it would someday make some kind of sense, I snapped. “Nothing about Amanda’s death seems miraculous or beautiful. Death is ugly and life is...painful.” Not for the first time, a spike of anger toward God ran through me.

Maddie touched my hand. “I’m not talking about your sister. I’m talking about you...and yes, life in general. Lexi, running away from painful feelings isn’t the answer. You can’t fight change...or death. Both are inevitable. What I’m saying is we can make choices that will bring about positive outcomes so we can make the best of the journey while we’re here. And all we can do is try our best to be happy.” She gave my hand a final squeeze. “You won’t know unless you try.”

I stared out at the water, my eyes brimming with tears. I’d made a mess of my own life, hidden my sister’s secret—which ultimately led to her death—and I’d sent my mother over the edge. Now, there was no going back, no fixing anything, and no getting past the fallout of my choices. Happiness amid the chaos and fallout seemed fleeting at best. “I just wish it wasn’t so hard to let go,” I whispered.

Maddie sat back, sliding her sunglasses over her eyes and resting her hat back on her head as if her duty was done in trying to shed some light on the mysteries of the universe for me. She took one more sip of her water and capped the bottle. “Someday you’ll see that as painful as it is to let go, holding on is infinitely worse.”