Upper West Side
New York, New York
February 5, 2007
Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone
Seems that the plans they made put an end to you
The tall, attractive middle-aged woman straightened the bulky scarf around the boy’s neck and brushed back a lock of golden hair from his forehead before giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
“Mommmm,” he whined loudly.
“You’re never too old to be kissed by your mother.” She laughed as he pulled away. “I know. Not where your friends can see you. But I do love you.”
“Loveyoutoo,” he mumbled as he turned away.
“I’ll be in my usual seat before the start of your game,” she called to him as he headed into the school entrance. Her son nodded, confident that his mother wouldn’t miss the seventh grade basketball game.
She waited and watched the lanky, awkward young teen disappear into the building.
“Thirteen,” she said aloud as she turned and headed towards the corner. “The same age as when I moved to Sleepyside.” Fortunately her son had none of the fears and insecurities she had suffered at that age. And while she had made certain he benefitted from her immense wealth, he had never been treated as privileged. She could afford to send him to any private school in the City but he was enrolled at The School at Columbia, a unique K-12 institution offering exceptional quality education while providing exposure to multiple cultures and social classes. Students included the children of Columbia University staff and faculty as well as from the surrounding neighborhoods, and were admitted by lottery with tuition based on ability to pay.
She turned and headed up Broadway, leaning over in a futile attempt to shield herself from the frigid wind that blew down the wide expanses of Broadway, refusing to allow either the cold or the forecast for several more days of similar weather to spoil her good mood. She had survived another hectic school day morning and her adolescent son was still telling her he loved her.
She turned up another street and walked for several blocks before pausing just long enough to admire a stately townhome. Not only was it a beautiful building, but she owned it. It had been a decrepit and sad apartment building when she purchased it and renovated it into a comfortable home and office. She was proud to have been able to preserve a part of one of the last remaining blocks of brownstone townhomes in the Upper West Side. She reflected on how much it had cost, but knew it was worth it. She then hurried up the steep marble steps and let herself in the front door. Locking the door behind her, she took off her boots and hung her heavy camel hair coat on a hook behind the leaded glass door. She slipped into a pair of pumps she had placed there before leaving, glanced at the reflection in the mirror, and called out for her housekeeper.
“Farat? Farat?”
A young middle-eastern woman came from the kitchen in the back of the house. “Yes, Doctor?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were here before I head downstairs.”
“I’m fine, Doctor. I read your note.”
“Thank you, Farat. There’s a seventh grade basketball game this afternoon so I’ll be heading out around three.”
“What time would you like dinner?”
“Seven thirty is fine.” She picked up a stack of mail and began thumbing through it.
“How many will there be for dinner?” Farat hesitated before asking.
“I have no idea.” The woman responded sharply as she opened a door in the hallway and headed down the stairs to her home office on the lower level. She’d given up long ago on expecting her husband for dinner and any reminder of his long work hours irritated her.
She went over to her massive mahogany desk, glanced at her wristwatch, sat down, and turned on the computer.
Ping! You’ve got mail.
Of course she had mail. She had at least 30 or 40 emails every day. Most would be from students, some were from friends or colleagues, several would be requests from charitable organizations for money, at least one would be a request for her to speak at a seminar, but most would be junk that she deleted without opening. She scrolled through the in-box.
“From Diana! I haven’t heard from her in ages!” She smiled as she opened the message from her life-long friend.
Is this Chip?
She clicked on the website link that followed the short question. She gasped aloud when she read the headline.
Sixties Activist, Charles Wilson Lloyd, III
Honey gasped aloud as she read the words. She hesitated before reading further.
Charles Wilson Lloyd, 61, passed away suddenly on February 1, 2007, at his home in Longueil, Quebec, from complications of diabetes. He was born September 6, 1946, in New York City, to Charles Wilson Lloyd, Jr. and Catherine Drake (nee Mason) Lloyd. His grandfather Charles Wilson Lloyd, Sr. was a founding partner of the prestigious investment firm of Lloyd, Scott and Cash. He was preceded in death by his father, a brother, Mason Jefferson Lloyd, and a daughter, Aletta Grace. Charles is survived by his beloved son, Charles Wilson Lloyd IV; his long-time companion, Alice Maroni; his sister, Catherine Lloyd; his mother, and his beloved cats, Button and Stella.
Lloyd was a prominent American anti-Vietnam War protest leader of the 1960s. He organized anti-war demonstrations in New York, Chicago, and Washington, DC in the late 1960s. He was best known for his role in the student occupation of administrative buildings at Columbia University in 1968. Lloyd studied Political Science at Columbia University before moving to Montreal, Quebec where he earned his undergraduate, master’s and doctorate degrees in Sociology at McGill University. He was a life-long pacifist and accomplished writer, having published many books and articles, and popular lecturer regarding community activism and organizing. He appeared on Larry King Live, Barbara Walters, Oprah, CNN, Phil Donahue, and other network programs.
Private services will be held in Longueil.
Honey read the words a second time, unable to completely believe what they meant. Could Chip, the man who once held her heart... Could he be dead?
She was halfway through reading the article a fourth time when her phone rang.
“Dr. Wheeler,” she answered.
“Is it him?”
“Hi, Diana. Why, I’m fine. How are you?”
“Honey, is it Chip? Your Chip?”
“It is, but the reality hasn’t sunk in. And he’s not my Chip. Hasn’t been for almost forty years.” She laughed. “If he ever was mine.”
“Gee. Are you…What are you going to do?”
“Most likely nothing. The services will be private.”
“But you were, I mean he was, I mean.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“You once told me you’d always love him.”
Honey hesitated. “A part of me still does, I guess. But there’s Alice, and his mother and…Charlie. They won’t be too happy to hear from me.”
“Honey, the two of you…you are his...”
“All that’s past. We moved on years ago.” Honey interrupted before her friend could continue. “He has Alice now.”
“Do you want me to come over?”
“I’m fine, Diana. Really. Just one thing, please,” Honey hesitated before continuing. “Don’t say anything to Trixie, yet. She’ll learn soon enough and when she does, she’ll rush over here with lights and sirens blaring. I need to process this a little before that.”
“Of course. Mart and I both are here if you need us. You know that.”
Honey made an obviously lame excuse to cut the conversation short. She needed to allow the news to sink in and, while she adored Diana, she wasn’t ready to discuss this disturbing news with anyone.
She reread the obituary over and over again until finally, she rested her head on her arms and closed her eyes. She tried to tell herself she didn’t feel anything. He’d moved on and she had too. He had a family in Quebec. She had one in New York. Finally, she admitted that Diana was right. A part of her always would love the exciting, dangerous young man she’d met so long ago. She remained like that, tears flowing, for what seemed like hours before realizing that she’d never felt such an intense grief, not even when her father had died. She felt empty and lost, and knew there was no one who’d understand her feelings. Even her closest friends would question how she could be so distraught over someone she hadn’t seen in years. She didn’t understand it herself. The truth was, she’d never understood how she’d come to be involved with Chip Lloyd; how a sweet, innocent young woman from Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson, New York could give her heart and more to an angry political activist. Until that moment, she’d never realized just how much she had loved him. The feelings lingered, even if the memories had faded.
Manor House
Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson, New York
March, 1966
I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song
I just can't remember who to send it to
“I’m sorry to hear that Trixie will have to attend Westchester Community College, Honey. I understand your disappointment. I know you and Trixie were planning to room together in college, but...”
Matthew and Madeleine Wheeler were having dinner with their daughter, Honey, and discussing her college plans. She had planned to room with her neighbor and best friend, Trixie Belden, but Trixie had just been denied the scholarship she needed and would be attending the local community college for two years. Honey had been accepted at several prestigious schools and her parents were insisting she select one.
“You don’t understand, Mother! I can’t go away to school without her. We’ve always planned to stay together. No one will know me and I—I can’t! I won’t!” Honey was in tears.
Trixie and Honey had been inseparable since the Wheelers had moved to Sleepside-on-the-Hudson almost six years earlier. Trixie was daring, impetuous and outgoing; while Honey’s sweet, reserved nature complemented and constrained her friend at times. You never saw one young woman without the other nearby and they had planned to attend the same college and work together after graduation. It seemed implausible that they might attend different colleges.
“Very few college freshmen know anyone when they arrive on campus. There will be hundreds of other students who feel the same as you. Everyone will feel lonely and awkward and will be looking for friends. And we can do all kinds of things to make sure you meet some people before you go, so that your transition will be easier.”
Honey stared down, unable to eat or speak. She watched as a tear rolled down her cheek and fell onto the delicate china plate. She knew she would lose this argument, but she felt ill at the idea of going off to college without Trixie.
“It’s just so hard for me to make friends. I won’t know anyone.”
“What about Barnard?” Her father hesitated. “With Jim at Columbia, he’d be there to introduce you to people, help you feel welcome. His apartment is right across from the Barnard campus. And it’s close enough that you can come home for weekends to visit and catch up with Trixie.” Jim Frayne was Honey’s adopted brother and would be a senior at Columbia the next year.
“Barnard’s an excellent school,” her mother added. “Jim loves Columbia. He’d introduce you to lots of nice young men and women, and…”
“I don’t know.” Honey looked up at into the expectant faces of her parents. “Could I live with Jim in his apartment?”
Matthew Wheeler was wealthy and powerful enough to persuade Barnard to do anything for his only daughter. But he’d insisted she gain admission to college on her own merits and he knew that she’d never be assimilated into Barnard unless she lived on campus for at least one year. He would not be asking for any special favors for Honey. “They require all freshmen to live in a dormitory.”
“Jim hasn’t decided yet on graduate school. He could be gone after one year.”
“Jim has said many time he wants to go to either Columbia or Harvard. Your being at Barnard might convince him to stay in New York.” It was impossible to not hear the excitement in Mrs. Wheeler’s voice and Honey knew her mother, who had dropped out of Smith to marry her father, had been terrified that she would refuse to go to any school.
Knowing this was an argument she was certain to lose and that her parents would be delighted to see her attend Barnard, Honey swallowed hard to gain her composure before responding. Having Jim nearby wouldn’t be as good as rooming with Trixie, but it would help.
“I guess I could go to Barnard,” Honey mumbled.
Her mother clapped her hands as her father reached for his water goblet. Fearing she’d change her mind, he stood up and quickly offered a toast. “So Barnard, it is! Here’s to Madeleine Grace Wheeler, Barnard Class of 1970!”
Reid Dormitory, Barnard College
New York, New York
September, 1966
I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
Honey held the door open for Jim Frayne, who was carrying a large suitcase. The tall, supple red-head was struggling with the weight. “Why aren’t you carrying anything?” He put it down with a thud.
“Because I have you and Tom to do it.” Honey referred to their family chauffeur who was waiting in the car for a turn to pull up to the service entrance and unload the rest of her things.
“Hi. Are you Madeleine?” A young woman wearing madras plaid Bermuda shorts, a crisp white blouse and with perfectly flipped blonde hair was sitting on one of the beds.
“No. I mean yes. I mean… I’m Madeleine, but they don’t call me that. I’m Honey.” Honey quickly offered her hand. “And you’re Janelle?”
“Jane. I guess we both didn’t like our names.” Jane grabbed Honey’s hand and looked over at Jim. “Who are you?”
“I’m so sorry,” Honey blushed. “This is Jim, my brother.”
Jim walked over, offering his hand. “Jim Frayne. I go to Columbia, so I’m helping Honey get situated.”
“Frayne?” Jane was confused.
“Jim’s my full-blooded adopted brother.” Honey laughed. “Even though he looks exactly like my father, my parents adopted him. But he kept his family name. I know it’s confusing.”
Jane jumped off the bed. “Do you guys need help? I assume you have more than that one suitcase.”
“Tom is waiting for our turn to pull up to the entrance and then we’ll have ten minutes to unload everything. Don’t you think that’s neat the way they give you a set time, you pull up to the rear entrance, and all those people help unload? I don’t know why Jim insisted on bringing up that suitcase. But I am anxious to get settled in. When did you get here?” Honey caught her breath and looked around the room. “Isn’t this the neatest room? Do you want to get matching bedspreads and curtains? Did you bring a stereo? I did and I brought all my albums, too. I even have ‘Introducing… the Beatles.’ I didn’t bring anything for decorating since I thought we should discuss it first.” Honey bounced on the second bed in the room. “Are all the rooms like this one?”
“Slow down, Honey! Jim laughed. “I’m sorry, Jane. She only lapses into Honeyspeak when she’s nervous and she has been worrying about meeting you for weeks!
Blushing, Honey pulled the suitcase over to the dresser. She paused, wondering how they might share the five small drawers in the double dresser.
“It’s okay. I chew my hair when I’m nervous. That makes it a little difficult for me to talk at all. I took the top and bottom drawers, Honey, and saved the middle ones for you.”
Just as Honey opened a drawer, a young man rapped on the doorframe. Almost as tall as Jim, he was much thinner with thick wavy hair that curled over the collar of his denim shirt. “Janie?”
Jane ran across the room and pulled him into the room. “Chip, this is my roomy, Honey, and her brother. He goes to Columbia, too. Do you know each other?”
Both young men shook their heads as Jim offered his hand. Chip continued to hold Jane close as he shook took it. “Chip Lloyd. I think I’ve seen you around, but we’ve never met. Janie and I grew up together and thought I’d welcome her. What’s your major? Do you live on campus?”
“Psychology and Education. I share an apartment over on 93rd. What year are you?”
“Second semester sophomore. I spent last semester bumming around Europe, so I’m behind. I live on 127th. Psych, huh? Do you know Mitchell Wallace or Donald Donovan? “
“I know Don. He’s a good guy. We’ve worked on a couple of projects together.” Jim acknowledged him. “Have you declared yet?”
“Not officially, but I’m teetering between Poly Sci and Philosophy.”
“Philosophy, huh? I had Dr. Bourdon for Aesthetics my first semester to meet a basic requirement. Talk about tough!”
Honey smiled, knowing that no class was too tough for Jim.
“Why do you think I’m considering Poly Sci? If he’s that tough in an intro course, I can’t imagine what my Senior Thesis would be like. I have the end of the semester to decide if I want to risk ever having him again.”
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Jane pulled away from Chip. “You can talk later. Honey needs to get her gear up here so she can unpack. We have a floor meeting in,” she looked at her watch. “Fifty-five minutes.”
“I guess I should help before someone realizes I snuck up here.” Chip turned and headed up the hallway. “Nice meeting you, Honey. We’ll have to share Bourdon stories, Jim.”
Honey and Jane followed the young men out of the room. “Are boys ever allowed in Barnard dorms?” Honey asked.
Upper West Side
New York, New York
February 5, 2007
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again
Honey typed Chip’s name in a search window, read several articles about him, including the one in Wikipedia. Spotting several errors, she thought about editing it, but decided there were people far more qualified.
Reading through an article in The New Yorker, she saw a reference to his having had a brief marriage to “New York Heiress, Madeleine Frayne”. She laughed out loud. People had always been confused about her and Jim’s having different surnames. Since her father had died, Frayne was a far more recognizable name than Wheeler. Jim had become well known as an educator, philanthropist and President of the Wheeler Frayne Foundation. People often thought that Wheeler was her married name. She laughed again.
Honey rested her head back on her folded arms, recalling that even Chip had been confused about her and Jim’s names.
Low Library, Columbia University
New York, New York
October, 1966
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again
“Hey! What are you doing here? Doesn’t Barnard have its own library?”
Honey Wheeler pulled a book off the bottom shelf and stood up. “Aha! Here it is! We didn’t have this one in our library. Hi, Chip.”
“You’re Janie’s roommate, aren’t you? I don’t remember your name.”
“It was kinda’ confusing that day.” Honey carried the book to the table where she was studying. She pulled out a chair and started to sit down when Chip grabbed it and held it for her.
Honey sat, allowed him to make her comfortable, and opened the book. Chip quickly sat down beside her. “Well, what is it?”
“What is what?” She pretended interest in the book.
“Your name. I know Jim Frayne is your brother, but I don’t know your name.”
“Honey. Honey Wheeler.” She continued to stare down at the book.
“Wheeler?” Chip sat back, obviously confused.
“It’s a long story,” Honey responded without looking up.
“You’re not, you’re not married or something?”
Honey laughed loudly enough that several people looked up and hushed her. “And living in the dorm? No! Jim is my adopted brother. We have different last names.”
“That’s good, ‘cause I’d sure like to take you out and I’ve never dated a married woman before.”
Honey smiled and looked up. She caught her breath when she saw how he was looking at her. “I’m sorry, Chip, but I really have to read this tonight.”
“Why don’t we study together? I’ll treat you to a Coke or something when you are ready for a break.” He placed his satchel on the table and opened it before she had a chance to respond.
Honey nodded agreement and smiled at the thought of her first college date; if it could be called a date. She smiled wider at the thought that it was with the sexiest boy at Columbia. No if about that.
Chip took one of her books, leaned back in the chair, and pretended to be reading.
“Don’t you have any of your own books?”
“I’ll just read yours. I’m sure it’s much more interesting.” He leaned back further. “Read!” he commanded.
For the next hour, Honey tried unsuccessfully to focus on the reference book, but kept looking up at the young man staring at her. Each time she did, he would smile mischievously, touch her on the arm or back, and then point to the book. Finally she slammed it shut, placed her pen and tablet in her bag, and announced she was thirsty and done for the evening. She replaced the reference book on the shelf and gathered up her things from the table. She turned to leave when Chip grabbed her shoulder.
“You forgot something.” His hand was still on her shoulder as she turned around.
“I did?” Honey was confused.
Chip slipped his hand down to her waist, pulled her to him and kissed her lightly on the lips. Honey jumped away.
“Just as sweet as I thought.”
They went to a nearby drug store where they shared a Coke and plate of fries. Chip walked her back to the entrance of the dorm and he kissed her again; this time a bit slower and longer than in the library, commenting that she was addictive and he needed more. They lingered for some time, each kiss lasting bit longer, until the Residence Director advised that it was last call. Honey had never shared more than a chaste goodnight kiss and she felt as if she were floating.
Somehow Honey managed to make it to the entry table to Flip In and take the elevator up to her room, only to find Jane sound asleep, so she sat on the floor of the hallway and wrote a short note to Trixie, telling her about the boy with the magic kisses.
She and Chip continued to meet almost every evening in the Low Library. They talked a bit about classes and classmates, but spent most of their time studying. While their attraction to each other was consuming much of their time, they remained committed to succeeding academically. After two weeks of studying in the large open Reference Room they found an alcove tucked away in the stacks where they began exploring much more than books. Honey had fallen in love. She hoped and prayed that Chip felt the same way.
Upper West Side
New York, New York
February, 2007
Won't you look down upon me, Jesus
You've got to help me make a stand
You've just got to see me through another day
Honey lifted up her head, turned off computer, and washed her face in the bathroom attached to her office. She was halfway out the office entrance when she realized she didn’t have a coat on, so she headed upstairs to bundle up before facing the record-breaking cold. Hearing something in the foyer, Farat came down the stairs to check.
“I have to go out, Farat. I’m not sure when I’ll return. I forgot to leave a note for Michelle when she comes in. Could you please listen for her and tell her I’ll be out the entire afternoon?”
Farat stared silently. Doctor Wheeler looked like she might have been crying. She never showed any emotion in Farat’s presence. And she never cancelled appointments unless her son was ill. She hadn’t when her husband was involved in an automobile accident. She’d only cancelled the one day of her father’s funeral, taking no time to grieve. This was very unusual.
“Of course, Doctor Wheeler. Are you okay?”
“Of course I am. I…I’ve been called out.” Honey wrapped a scarf around her head and neck and tucked it into her coat. She wiggled her toes into the heavy fur-lined boots and pulled on her gloves, confident she was protected from the cold as well as possible.
“Please don’t forget,” she called as she headed out the door.
Honey turned away from the wind and headed up the street. She wasn’t sure where she might go, but she hoped that the harsh wind and frigid temperatures would help to clear her head of any painful memories. She got to the corner and hesitated before deciding to head towards the Columbia Campus, without thinking that was the worst place to go if she really wanted to forget about Chip.
Her cell phone rang. She pulled it from her coat pocket and saw that it was her husband. “Dammit,” she said aloud. She didn’t want him intruding on her…her what? She put the phone back into her pocket, letting it go into voicemail.
After a few moments, it began ringing again. She let it ring. After the fourth round of persistent ringing and vibrations, she acknowledged that her husband wouldn’t stop calling until she picked up.
“What is it?” she answered.
“I just wanted to check in.” Her husband sounded worried. It was obvious he had seen the obituary. “What’s that noise? Are you outside?”
“Traffic. I’m walking over to Columbia. I…I need something from the library.”
“You’re lying. I know you too well. You’re going there pay some stupid tribute; to mourn him, aren’t you? Isn’t that where you met? Is that where you…”
“Dammit. I’m headed to the library. I don’t have any appointments until this afternoon.”
“No. I know you, Honey. You’re headed over to the library to mourn Chip. I saw the obituary. Now I won’t only have to live with your memories of a hero, I’ll have to live with your memorializing a damn martyr.”
“I’ve told you a thousand times that he’s…he was my first love. A girl never quite gets over that. But I left him. I left him and I married YOU. He’s my past, but you’re my present. And my future. Why do you have to keep…?”
“You slept with him, Honey. You abandoned your friends, your family, everything, to follow some wild dream with him. To give him your heart and your…and there’s Aletta.”
“I was eighteen!”
“Yes. I’ve heard that excuse before. Besides, I’m not talking about then. I’m talking about…”
“I came back to you. I…we stayed married. We have a son, a life together.”
“You never stopped loving him. Deny that! You…oh, forget it.” The phone disconnected.
Honey flipped the phone shut and put it back into her pocket. Her husband had never accepted that a part of her would always love Chip, but she also loved him. Chip represented something exciting and exotic, while her husband was her life-partner. At least she wanted him to be her life-partner. Almost every fight she’d had with her husband had either started or ended with some reference to Chip. Maybe now that Chip was…
She began sobbing, the finality of his death becoming real. Chip was gone.
“Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?” A young woman offered her a tissue. “The church is open if you’d like…”
Honey looked up and saw they were standing in front of a church. “Thank you.” She took the tissue, headed up the steps and into the sanctuary. Sitting down in a pew, she wiped her eyes and bowed her head. She sat that way, hoping some words of prayer or comfort might come to her. Instead, she thought about the first time she’d taken Chip to Sleepyside.
Manor House
Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson, New York
December 31, 1966
My body's aching and my time is at hand
And I won't make it any other way
Honey lay in bed thinking about the prior evening and feeling totally satisfied that her friends liked Chip and he liked them. After dinner with Jim and her parents, they had shared dessert with the Beldens and all the Bob-Whites of the Glen at Crabapple Farm. While she knew his political opinions were different from most of her high school friends, they had easily avoided any controversial topics and had a terrific evening and she was excited about the New Year’s Party planned for later that night. Recalling the private time she had shared with Chip in his room after dessert, she was thinking about tiptoeing to his room for an encore when she was roused by a loud knocking on her bedroom door.
“Honey?” Jim called through the door. “Wake up!”
Honey grabbed her robe and pulled it on as she crossed the room. She opened the door just as Jim was reaching up to pound again.
“What are these?” He held up a round plastic packet. “I found them in your car. Are these yours?” He stepped in and shut the door. “Are they?”
Honey grabbed them from him. “What if they are? And what were you doing in my car? It’s not like you to snoop.”
“I wasn’t snooping. You asked me to gas it up. And don’t try to change the subject! Why do you need birth control pills? You’ve slept with him, haven’t you? You abandoned your friends, your family, everything you believe in to follow some wild dream with him. You’ve given him your heart and your, your virtue to satisfy his physical needs.”
“I’m eighteen! I’m of age!”
“Yes, Honey, you’re eighteen. Only eighteen! You’re not married and... He’s just using you. You know that, don’t you?” Jim was red-faced and raising his voice.
“Shhh. Someone will hear you.” Honey walked over to her dresser and placed the packet in a drawer. She turned around and leaned back. “You can take them for reasons other than birth control, you know.”
“Are you…are you telling me you’re taking them for a health problem?” Jim crossed his arms and glared at his sister, waiting for her to blush and stammer a little the way she did whenever she tried to lie. “Are you? Or do you need them for protection?”
Honey nodded, hoping the noncommittal gesture might confuse Jim.
“Dammit! Do you know what you’re doing? You’ve destroyed your reputation to satisfy the selfish needs of someone you barely know. He’s not committed to you. He doesn’t respect you. How could he if he…What happens when you do get married? What will you tell your husband? And what about the church? What about the lessons they taught us about morality? Did you forget all that? And Mom and Dad; they’ll be devastated.”
“What if we are having sex, Jim Frayne? It really doesn’t concern you or Mother or Daddy. And the only way they’ll know is if YOU tell them. You and Mother and Daddy were so determined that I go away to college and make friends. So I did. I made friends. And I’ve taken a lover. And I’ll tell you something. I don’t see what all this archaic talk about waiting to be married is about. We’re adults. We’ve taken precautions to not have children. We are enjoying ourselves. He didn’t force me or coerce me. And we have great sex. Every chance we get. What do you think about that?”
Jim shook his head. “You’ll regret this.” He turned to leave. “You’re right. It doesn’t concern me. I’ve made a choice. I’ve chosen to set aside my physical needs and wait for Trixie. I respect her. Chip chose differently. He placed his needs before your reputation and you...”
“Needs? Needs, Jim? “Honey interrupted. “Your needs? What about Trixie’s needs?”
Jim turned around. “What?”
“We have needs too, Trixie and I.” Honey was out of control. “Why don’t you ask Trixie?”
Jim started to say something and stopped in order to gain control. He then spoke quietly and stiffly. “You might want to consider leaving. You and Chip both. I’ll make some excuse for you.” He turned and slammed the door behind him. Honey picked up a bottle from the dresser and threw it across the room, shattering it against the wall as she heard the door across the hall slam too.
“You’re a pig, you know that? And to think I’ve been defending you and calling you honorable. You’re just another chauvinist pig, who thinks he’s better than anyone else.”
Honey couldn’t believe she’d been upset with Chip when he’d first suggested she stay in his room the prior evening. He’d said that two weeks was too long to go without sex and that his body was aching for her. Her body had ached, too, but she was concerned about what Jim might think. But, of course, he thought he knew everything when he didn’t know squat about relationships.
She pulled her robe tighter around her and slid down to the floor in disbelief of what had just occurred. She and her beloved brother had never fought before. They’d had few, if any, sharp words. She had known that Jim would be unhappy if he knew the details of her relationship with Chip, but she hadn’t expected such an angry reaction. She placed her head on her knees and sobbed, her heart torn between the two young men she loved and wondering if she could ever repair the damage.
Upper West Side
New York, New York
February 5, 2007
Been walking my mind to an easy time my back turned towards the sun
Lord knows when the cold wind blows it'll turn your head around
Realizing where she was, Honey stood and turned to leave. She dropped a few bills into the Mission Box and pulled on her gloves before opening the heavy wooden door. The sudden change in temperature almost forced her back inside. Leaning down she headed out into the cold, unsure where she might go next. She decided to head towards the campus. The library would be warm and might offer refuge for her chilled body and troubled mind. When she reached Amsterdam Avenue, she hesitated, wondering if she might continue on past the School of Social Work and on to Morningside Park, a place that had special meaning to Chip, or if she should turn and continue on to her original destination. A blast of wind that almost knocked her down made the decision for her so she turned and took the shortest route to the warm library.
Once inside, she headed directly to the area of the stacks where she and Chip had spent countless hours. She had fallen in love in the library and she had made life-altering decisions sitting at a small desk in those stacks. Surprisingly, there was still a small desk in the alcove that she and Chip had called their own, so she took off her coat and sat down.
Once settled, she wasn’t sure what she should do. She looked around at the shelves filled to capacity and wondered if she should try to read. She strained her ears to hear if there were students nearby, studying and perhaps falling in love as she had so long ago. She heard nothing. She scanned the countless scrawls carved into the desk top until she found one. Yes, it was the very same desk. There is the upper right hand corner was CWL III. Beside it was MGW. They had started but never completed a big plus sign. She remembered the necklace he’d given her with the same monograms and wondered what had happened to it.
Haight Ashbury Neighborhood
San Francisco, California
June 14, 1967
Well, there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground
“Did you get the necklace?” Chip was spending the summer break meeting with student activists at college campuses and had mailed Honey a necklace with a monogrammed heart pendant for her birthday.
“It’s beautiful. I’m wearing it now.”
“It’s not much. I’d like to be able to tell you Happy Birthday in person. That’s why I called early.” Chip was clearly excited.” San Francisco is incredible. Join me, Honey. You can catch the next plane and be here before tomorrow morning and we can head down to Monterey. John Sebastian has put together an incredible weekend–long music festival. It includes all the big name west coast bands and there are rumors the Beatles will be there. Please, I miss you so much and I want you to meet some people. They’re enlightened, visionary. They’re planning so much more than just ending the war and I want to be a part of it all. I want you to be a part, too.
“Ted is leading an entirely new faction for the SDS, advocating base-building and education rather than confrontation. It’s real pacifism and we’re meeting with people out here who’ve lived it. There’s a fellow in Berkeley, he’s training cops in non-violent crowd control and…Honey, please say you’ll come out here.”
Honey listened patiently as Chip described his experiences over the past few weeks. As soon as they’d completed finals, he and the newly elected President of the Students for a Democratic Society, Ted Kaptchuk, left on a recruiting and speaking tour of campuses across the country. They were now in San Francisco and were so enamored with the societal changes in the Bay area that they had cancelled the rest of the trip. Chip had called Honey to invite her to join them.
“What about the rest of the tour?”
“Idaho, Drake, Kansas, Oklahoma State? Do you know they call their team the Cowboys? They’re all a bunch of redneck schools and they sure don’t want to hear what we have to say. I’ve seen enough corn and soy beans to last ten lifetimes. Ted has cancelled everything to focus on recruiting here. We’ve found a place to stay for the next couple months. As soon as I stopped vibrating from all the travel, I started missing you. Aching for you, Honey. And it’s not just me. There’s lots of work for you to do out here.”
“I’m not sure if I should leave right now. I told you about Dan. He needs me right now. Trixie has gone ballistic over it all and…it’s just not a good time to leave. Maybe in a week or two.”
“The concert’s this weekend. The work’s piling up already. I’m going insane without you. A man has…I need you. I’m not going to beg, but you know how I feel.
“Listen, there’s this doctor, David Smith. Just last week he opened a clinic. It’s a free clinic where no one has to pay, and he’s already seen hundreds of patients. I told him I knew this girl in New York who was smart and sensitive and looking for something to do that was relevant. He said to send you and send you NOW. HE needs you. “
Honey ended the call without committing, but promising she’d try. After they hung up, she talked to her friends and agreed to return for Dan’s farewell party; and then tried to book air fare to San Francisco. She decided that if she could get out there before the music festival began, she’d stay for a few weeks and return home in time for Dan’s farewell party. All she promised Chip was that she’d try to get out there for a week or two.
Over the next few hours, all details fell into place with remarkable ease and by 11:00 pm she was on a non-stop flight to San Francisco. She had tried to call Chip, but there was no answer at the number he had given her, so she decided to surprise him. By dawn, she was getting out of a cab in front of an apartment building in a derelict area of the city near the intersection of Haight and Ashbury streets. Double checking the address, she paid the driver, grabbed her suitcase, and headed up the stairs to an apartment on the third floor.
She tapped lightly on the door, but there was no response, so she knocked louder. After some time a bearded young man opened the door a few inches. “Who are you?” he mumbled groggily.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s early. I’m looking for Chip. Chip Lloyd.”
The young man unlatched the chain and opened the door wider. Honey was startled to see that he had no clothes on. When she stepped back and apologized, he laughed. “Lose those hang-ups, girl. It’s just flesh!” He turned and headed across the room. “First door on the right,” he mumbled as he fell back onto the sofa and covered himself with a sheet.
Honey closed the door and latched the chain before heading in the direction where he had pointed. She tapped on the first door lightly. A girl’s voice answered. “Who is it?”
“I’m sorry,” Honey apologized. “I’m looking for Chip Lloyd.”
She could hear frantic whispering behind the closed door and then it flew open. “Honey? My God. What are you doing here?” Chip was in his undershorts, his hair disheveled and it appeared he hadn’t shaved in several days. “How’d you get here? Why didn’t you call?”
Honey stared at him in horror. She then looked over his shoulder into the darkened room and saw a thin redheaded woman lying across the bed, making no attempt to cover her nakedness. “It’s not nice to stare.” The woman taunted her.
Chip pushed her away and pulled the door shut behind him. “I didn’t expect you.”
Honey stood frozen for what seemed an eternity, unable to believe what she had seen. She grabbed her suitcase and turned, running across the cluttered living room and to the door. Chip grabbed her as she fumbled with the chain.
“Honey, please, please let me explain.”
Honey pulled away.
“I know what this looks like.”
“Don’t be cliché, Chip. It is what it looks like.” Honey leaned her forehead against the door. “I arrived unannounced. Everything would have been all cleaned up and explained away if I’d only called.”
“She’s a lay, Honey. That’s all. I didn’t know when I’d see you again. I picked her up at a meeting. She’s nothing to me. You’re…please, Honey.”
“Get away, Chip. Stay away.” Honey pulled open the door and left.
Low Library, Columbia University
New York, New York
February 5, 2007
Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
Honey signed loudly as she stood and headed over to the narrow stairs that wound throughout the towering shelves packed with books. She looked back at the alcove that held so many good memories and tried to shake the memory of such incredible heartache and misery. To this day, she could not remember how she got home to New York or the details of that summer. She barely remembered the party for Dan when he left for basic training and staying up all that night arguing and crying with Jim, but the rest of the summer of 1967, the infamous Summer of Love, was a blur.
As she headed towards the library exit and braced for the cold walk home, she glanced into the Reference Room. A young couple sat at one of the massive wooden tables, deep in discussion. She stopped and watched, wondering if they were discussing politics, or a research project, or confessing their undying love for each other. She smiled, hoping it was love, as she headed for home.
Barnard College Library, Lehman Hall
New York, New York
September, 1967
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you, baby, one more time again, now
Honey pulled her hair off her neck, shook off the stiffness from bending over the large Art History book and let the hair drop back down. When she’d left school in June, she was convinced she would major in Social Work. It would provide a good background if she and Trixie pursued their dream of a detective agency, but it also would allow her to pursue a career in community service if she chose that path. She had been toying with the idea of working in Public Health.
However, over the summer she had become convinced that she wanted to study anything BUT Social Work and, at her mother’s suggestion, she was taking an Art History class. She welcomed the opportunity to study fine art, even though she couldn’t see herself majoring in the subject.
She glanced at her notes from that morning’s class and looked back at the print Giorgione’s Reclining Venus when someone pulled out the chair next to hers and sat down.
“Don’t move. Don’t say a thing. I’ve been trying for almost three months to talk to you and you’re going to hear what I have to say.”
Honey quickly glanced over at the young man with a full dark beard and hair falling almost to his shoulders. She barely recognized him. “Go away, Chip. Get a haircut.” Honey stared back down at the reclining nude on the page, remembering the emaciated redhead spread across the bed in a similar pose. She wrote “1510” in her notebook.
“I’m not going away until you let me speak.”
And he spoke. He rambled on and on, admitting that he had committed an unforgivable act. He didn’t deserve her. The woman in San Francisco had been a pick-up and he’d never seen her before that night or since. He didn’t want the redhead or anyone else. He had no explanation or excuse for being with her. There had been no one else since that night. H admitted that he’d been far too busy the remainder of the summer to chase after women, but even if he’d had the time, all he wanted was Honey.
“I’m begging, Honey. I remember once saying I wouldn’t beg you to sleep with me, but that was pure male ego talking. I’m speaking from my heart now. I want you, Honey, but I want far more than sex. I want you in my life. Please.”
Honey listened, never looking up. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to share in the happiness they’d once had. But she no longer trusted him, and she wasn’t sure she could ever trust him.
“Please, Honey, look at me.”
Honey continued to stare down at the nude.
“Ohmigod, Honey. I love you. I never thought anyone as kind and loving and beautiful would ever want me and you did. And I destroyed it. I only care about two things in life, Honey. I want to change things, to create a better society, and I want to do it with you.”
Honey looked up at him. “I thought I would die. I really did. I trusted you.” Tears were falling down her cheeks. “You hurt me. It was more than hurt. It was…there isn’t a word. ”
“I betrayed your trust. I know that.”
“I, I thought I was in love.”
“I know I was. At least I know that now. I love you. I always will.”
Honey looked back down at the book. “I can’t promise anything, but if you promise to take it slow. Very slow, we might try.”
“I know I have to prove myself to you, but I can’t unless you give me a chance.”
Honey shut the large tome and stood up. “Let’s get some coffee.”
Upper West Side
New York, New York
February 5, 2007
But I always thought that I'd see you, baby, one more time again, now
Honey sat at the kitchen table of her home. She’d had no breakfast nor lunch and her stomach was grumbling loudly, but she wasn’t hungry. It was almost time to leave and go to her son’s basketball game, and she knew she needed to eat something. She grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table and rolled it over and over between her hands.
Taking a bite, she reminded herself that the hunger pangs she was feeling were nothing compared to those she’d experienced in Montreal or even in April, 1968, and there were children desperate for food living just blocks away from her elegant home.
Low Library, Columbia University
New York, New York
April 30, 1968
Thought I'd see you one more time again
There's just a few things coming my way this time around, now
Honey sat on the floor of the hallway outside the Columbia University President’s office listening to her stomach growl, surrounded by several dozen other students. She’d lost track of how long she’d been there or how long it had been since she’d had a meal. She’d joined the demonstrations several days ago to attempt to stop construction of a new gymnasium in Morningside Park and followed the protestors when they moved onto campus, first into Hamilton Hall and later taking over the offices of the University President in Low Library. She had thought she was participating in a peaceful sit-in, and it had started that way, but after seven days, the mood had deteriorated significantly. Chip pushed his way through the crowded hallway and stopped in front of her, looking down.
“I thought Ted was advocating for collaboration and education rather than confrontation. I thought we were going to sit here peacefully until someone met with us. What has happened to make everyone so angry? They’ve completely destroyed the offices.” She stared up at him.
“Wake up, Honey. They’re hungry, and dirty, and fed-up. Have you looked outside? Those are riot squads surrounding the building. They have guns and clubs and tear gas and masks, and they aren’t interested in anything but confrontation. Ted’s ideas are bullshit. He’s been forced out. The mission of the SDS has had to change with the changing times and Mark Rudd has made sure that the students of Columbia are changing, too.” Chip pulled an apple out of his pocket and handed it to her. “This is all I could find. I’m sorry.”
Honey took the apple and quickly bit into it. Juice ran down her chin and she caught it with her fingers and licked them. “I’m starving.”
“Children in Harlem are starving. You’re exaggerating.” Chip turned and started to walk away.
“It’s a phrase, Chip. Dammit. A phrase. Have you lost your sense of humor, too?”
Chip stopped and turned around. Seeing the desperate look on Honey’s face, he went back and sat next to her, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry. I know you’re afraid. I am too. But this is history, Honey. Don’t you realize that? It’s exciting and, yes, frightening, but I’m ready to be a part of it. I thought you were too.”
Honey buried her head in Chip’s shirt. “I was, but I thought it would be peaceful. I thought that it would be over in a few hours. This is; it’s hard.”
“It wouldn’t be history-making if it were easy. I love you Honey Wheeler. I love that you saw the indignities of that gymnasium proposal. I love that you’re horrified by Dr. King’s assassination. I love that you didn’t hesitate to climb through that window behind me. I love that you have sat here with me with no food or water, and I love that you believe that we can change the world. That we will! I’m sure of that. And we’ll change it together.”
“Love me?” He lifted her chin up and kissed her. “Let me hear your sweet voice say you love me.”
“Oh, yes, Chip. I love you.”
“Together forever?”
“Forever.”
A roar came from the other side of the building, followed by pounding and more shouting. Honey and Chip jumped up and Chip grabbed Honey’s arm. Hearing it grow louder, Chip shoved Honey into a closet and locked the door before she could protest. She sat on the floor and listened as chaos erupted on in the hallway. It was almost twelve hours before a National Guard soldier opened the closet door and ordered Honey out. She was quickly herded into a police wagon and transported across town. After spending the night crammed in a jail cell with homeless women, prostitutes, drug addicts and fellow students, she was released without any processing or explanations. She returned to her dorm room to learn that she had been suspended for a semester. After taking a long hot shower and getting something to eat from the vending machine in the basement, she began packing.
Jane hadn’t participated in the student shutdown of Columbia and didn’t understand why Honey had been involved. They had barely spoken for weeks prior to the demonstrations and occupation of the Administrative building and she sat silently as Honey began to pack up her belongings. Finally, Honey sat on the bed and began crying. Jane came over and sat beside her.
“This is Chip’s fault.” Jane tried to comfort her.
“I wasn’t forced to do this.”
“But he got you involved in all this. If not for him…” Jane had been angrier at Chip than at Honey and she felt some blame because she had introduced Chip to her roommate.
Honey giggled. “I’d still be looking at nudes in the library. I’m dreading seeing Mother and Daddy. They’ll never understand.”
“They adore you. You’ll be surprised at how quickly they will forgive and forget.”
“I’ve been suspended. Suspended..”
“For a semester. Still want to be roomies in the fall?”
Honey started to nod her agreement, but touched her stomach and began crying. “If I come back.”
They both startled at a knock on the door. “Long distance for Honey.”
Wiping her tears, Honey headed down the hall to the communal phone. “This is Honey Wheeler.”
“Forever. You said forever, Honey. God, I love you.”
“Where are you?”
“Don’t say my name. I can’t tell you where I am. There’s a warrant for me; a federal warrant. They say I’ve been building bombs!”
“Bombs?” Honey knew that some members of the SDS had violent leanings, but she was confident that Chip was not one of them. “Where are you? Can you come here and…?”
“If I come there I’ll be arrested. They may have your phone tapped. I’m screwed. I’ve been kicked out of school, so no draft deferment. The damn feds are after me for who knows what trumped up charges. Bombs! I’m a pacifist, dammit. I could go to jail. I have no choice. Honey. I’m headed north. I have connections and they’ll set me up. Maybe we can clear things up from there. They’ll get us both set up. Come with me, please.”
“I can’t go now. Maybe later, but not right now. I need to see Mother and Daddy and explain all this. I need time.” Honey rubbed her stomach, reminding herself that she didn’t have too much time. Her head was spinning. She dreaded facing her parents. She wanted to be with Chip. She needed him. He’d understand. He’d still love her. He wanted to build a life with her. And she’d promised him. But Canada? Was it legal for her to live there? Would she be able to come home to visit? Would she be able to go to school there?
“We don’t have later, Honey. Once I get over, I’m afraid they’ll use you to find me. It’s tonight or…I don’t want to leave you behind.”
“Can I at least call Jim?”
“Maybe once we get settled, but not now. We can’t risk the feds finding out we’re on the road; figuring out where we are. We can’t waste time. Pack a bag, it’s still cold where we’ll be, and go to the place we went that first night. Do you remember? Do you remember that first time I saw you in the library and where we went later?”
“Of course.”
“Where we went later. There’s a pay phone. I’ll call you in thirty minutes. Thirty minutes. I love you, Honey. I do love you.”
Honey returned to the room and began throwing things into her largest suitcase. She had no idea what she might need and if she’d be able to have anything sent to her, so she threw in whatever she could grab. The entire time, Jane was pleading with her to stay and not act rashly, but Honey could hear only one thing: the voice of her lover saying the magic words, “Together Forever”.
She latched the suitcase and pulled it towards the door behind her. She looked back at Jane who was shaking her head in disbelief and saw the photograph of seven teen-agers in red jackets sitting on her desk. Wiping a tear, she took it, put it in her purse, and left the room without looking back.
Upper West Side
New York, NY
February 5, 2007
Thought I'd see you one more time again
There's just a few things coming my way this time around, now
Honey tossed the apple core in the trash, walked out into the foyer and bundled up for the cold again. She retraced her steps of that morning, trying to recall how it felt to not know; not realize that a piece of her was gone forever. She thought of how, just that morning, she had thought that all was good in her world, that things were coming her way. That she’d see him again.
Realizing she had walked past the entrance to the school gym, she turned around and headed back up the block. Hesitating in front of the expanse of doors that led to the gym lobby, she realized what she had to do. There were a few things coming her way and she should grab them. She knew that she’d be unwelcome in Longueil, but that she didn’t have a choice. She had to see him one more time, one more time, again.
She took her cell phone from her purse and hit some buttons. “Oui. Alice Maroni; Longueil, Quebec, s’il vous plait.”
“Oui. Alice Maroni. Oui. Longueil. Merci. Merci.”
“Alice? C'est Honey Wheeler. Madeleine. Je viens d'apprendre. Comment allez-vous, ma cher amie?”
Thought I'd see you, thought I'd see you fire and rain, now
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