“What brings an intelligent, big-city guy like you to Cielo Island of all places?”
Good question, Aiden thought. Throughout the process of making the necessary arrangements to get to the island, he didn’t really get down to the “why” factor.
“Call it a transition period,” he said.
“Fair enough,” Rosemary agreed.
Aiden picked up the slightest hint of suspicion in her tone. Maybe not suspicion, but doubt nonetheless.
“Looking for a different answer?” he pressed.
“Look, Mr. Lawrence. I don’t know you from Adam, and I’m not about to prod into your personal life the second you step foot on this rock. Maybe I don’t even want to know,” she said, after which she looked off to the setting sun. She held her silence, clearly planning how to articulate her thoughts as the waves continued to crash against the rocks below.
“People don’t just stumble across this place. It isn’t exactly the hottest tourist spot in the region, and yuppies don’t come here to start their careers. People either grow up here, or they run here to escape from somewhere else.”
Aiden didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t know if he should. Was Rosemary baiting him? Trying to lead him down a path to reach a conclusion?
He stood up, still facing southwest. He slowly stepped toward the edge to look down.
Big leap, he thought.
Big leaps require a significant amount of trust, and even more faith – neither of these things came easily to Aiden, especially when it came to people. Soured relationships didn’t help, and he wasn’t about to start spilling his guts to a complete stranger the first night on some remote island.
There was something about Rosemary, though. Like she cared about him. Almost a maternal aura.
“Things change,” he finally said, not dropping his guard. “Life changes, people change. Yeah, I know there’s always the next step, whatever. Sometimes I don’t care about that next step. You just go with the flow.”
“And this is where ‘the flow’ took you?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t. I’m here now. What’s next doesn’t matter.”
“Sounds like more of a cross road than a transition,” she said.
“What’s the difference?”
“Transitions have a clear ‘next step.’ You know where you’re heading. There’s fear, but there’s certainty.”
She turned to the right and pointed to the ground, using her finger to mark two spots in the dirt.
“Point A, Point B,” she said, pointing to the two respective dots. “You have your time at Point A, and sooner or later you need to move to Point B. They’re entirely different and a lot of change will be involved. But you at least have an idea of what’s coming next.”
Aiden nodded and bit the side of his lip. Rosemary clearly liked her own analogies, but she seemed to be going somewhere with this one, and she had his attention.
Philosophical discussions were fine by him because you can explore the abstract without bringing yourself into the picture. That’s how he saw it, at least.
He preferred it that way.
As Aiden turned to face her, Rosemary dusted away the two dots and drew a cross in the dirt.
“A cross road is the end of something, at which point you’re staring into the unknown. There are a lot of unmarked roads ahead of you, and you have no assurance as to what’s down each road.”
She let it hang in the silence for a bit. So did he. The sun was now touching the horizon, but neither of them seemed to notice.
“Maybe ‘crossfire’ is a better word,” Aiden said. “More variables, more players, less safety.”
As he spoke, Rosemary squinted her eyes and brought her brows closer together, as if to say “Ah ha!” in response to Aiden’s words. As if he had somehow disclosed too much and let her in.
“So how do you move forward?” she asked.
Aiden’s defenses were alerted, and he swiftly segued back to the philosophical argument. Rosemary was no shrink, and this look-out point was no therapist couch.
“Why should you?” Aiden asked. “Why does it always have to be about moving forward? What’s so wrong with the present?”
“The present isn’t a bad place, Aiden. And moving forward doesn’t always mean a change of scenery.”
“Is standing still really so bad?” he asked.
Rosemary nodded, her eyes open and engaged. Not defensive, but caring. She really did seem to care. That maternal vibe again.
“The way I see it,” she said, “when you come to a cross road – or crossfire, whatever you want to call it – you’ve got two options. You can stay put; don’t proceed any further. You’re in the safe zone. But you’re not safe. You’re held captive by fear. And this fear is, in all irony, far more dangerous than the crossfire itself. Yes, you’re exposed to external dangers if you move forward – but fear paralyzes you.”
Aiden wasn’t expecting that strong of a response.
She paused, stood up and looked out as the sun was mostly set.
“In a sense, fear is pride inside out. ‘What will happen to me?’ ‘What will they think of me?’ ‘Why should I be the one to make the first move?’ You make yourself the victimized star of your own universe. And of course, your problems and anxieties are far more interesting than anyone else’s.”
Aiden stood there, looking at her. Dumbstruck. Never thought he’d hear such revelations from a cashier.
“By the way,” Rosemary said, “when I say ‘you,’ it’s entirely figurative. I know nothing about you other than your sense of style, and this is no attempt at trying to figure you out. I’m just an old lady who likes to ramble.”
Aiden nodded in acknowledgement and approval.
Silence seemed golden.
“There’s a second option,” Rosemary continued. “Take that next step. Walk into the crossfire. Yes, you’ll feel terrified and you’re positive that you’re paralyzed by inadequacy. You’re not. You’ll take some hits, but you’ll live. And when you take those first few steps and glance back at your foot prints, you’ll see that you survived. You made progress. You’re carving out a destiny for yourself. Fear will be replaced by astonishment.”
Rosemary broke her gaze, looked at the darkening horizon and turned her head back toward Aiden. “You should head back,” she said. “Gets dark quick here.”
She stood up and started to walk back toward the gravel lot. Aiden was still trying to connect all the dots of her theory as he followed her to the cars.
