Eclipse Part 2

Continued from last week…

Everyone was talking about the Great American Eclipse. “It will be the experience of a lifetime,” Carole’s sister Lily told her. Not since 1918 had a similar eclipse occurred—with totality stretching across the US from coast to coast. “It’s just a three-hour drive to be in totality,” Lily said. “Bring Eric. He’ll love it!” 

Carole wasn’t sure that Eric would love it, but she did agree that an adventure might be good for him. It had been six months since he got out of the hospital, and he wasn’t improving. Nobody really knew what was going with him. Lewy Body Dementia sometimes comes on slowly with gradual memory gaps, and sometimes comes on like a Mack Truck with personality change, mania, and psychosis. Eric had the Mack Truck version and because of severe episodes of mania, doctors diagnosed him with bipolar disorder. Although Carole didn’t know it at the time, the misdiagnosis set them on a path that was filled with mistakes and strain. 

Eclipse day started before dawn for Lily, Carole, and Eric as they piled into Lily’s hybrid Highlander. They didn’t have an exact destination in mind – just the coordinates of the 70-mile-wide path in which totality would occur. Lily figured they would find a place to watch along the roadside. What they found when they got there was even better. A casino parking lot on the Wind River Indian Reservation had been turned into a spontaneous gathering place for eclipse watchers. 

They found a parking spot among the throng and pulled out lawn chairs and snacks. Everyone was in a great mood—milling about, chatting, and taking pictures of themselves wearing eclipse glasses while watching the moon slowly carve a slice out of the sun. 

Soon Eric said, “I need to pee,” and started walking towards the casino. Lily looked apprehensive. “Is it okay for him to go alone?”

“Yes,” Carole responded, remembering the doctor’s admonition that Eric needed to regain his independence and learn to sink or swim. “He can do it. It’s good for him.” She doubted her own words but pushed past the worries. The doctors should know, right? The party continued, with people dancing, visiting, eating, drinking, and gazing up. Carole tried to enjoy the festivities while she waited for Eric to return, but he didn’t. Finally, Lily said, “I’m going to go get him. She jumped in her car and drove toward the casino.

While Lily was gone, the moon made its most dramatic move and covered completely the face of the sun, revealing a halo-like corona around its circumference. A flash of light burst out from the lower right—the diamond ring. The crowd cheered, clapped, laughed, screamed. Cries of “Oh my God!” reverberated from every direction. Someone shouted, “It’s sunset and sunrise at the same time!”

Carole turned slowly around to take it in. In every direction she saw the sky as an azure wash, softening into yellow and rose as it melted into the horizon. It was the thinnest of thin times—and she was in anguish. Anguish because Eric wasn’t with her. Anguish because Lily was missing it. Anguish because it was all her fault.

About halfway through the two minutes and 29 seconds of totality, Lily returned with Eric. As they got out of the car Carole hugged Eric and said to Lily, “Oh, God! Thank you!”  But Lily had already joined the wave of delight rippling through the crowd. Carole clasped Eric’s hand and motioned him to circle around with her. “Look, honey! It’s the thin time all around us!”    

“Wow!” he said. They held hands and watched as the moon’s shadow continued to move, revealing another diamond flash on the corona ring. Totality was over.

 A popping sound from behind startled them. Carole turned and saw a fellow celebrant with an overflowing bottle of champagne. “We should have thought of that!” said Carole. 

“We have Arnold Palmer,” said Lily and began pouring lemonade into three red solo cups. “Cheers!” she said. 

“To totality!” said Carole!

“To my new friend,” said Eric. 

Lily opened the car door and turned on the radio. “Time for music! I think there’s an eclipse playlist coming on. She rolled down the windows and turned up the volume, just in time for Carly Simon to belt out the familiar words about a Lear jet trip to the total eclipse of the sun. People began to sing along. The party was in full swing with dancing, singing, and the type of camaraderie felt when something truly magical is shared. After about an hour, Lily started packing the lawn chairs and they settled into their seats to leave. Carole said, “I hope the traffic isn’t too horrible.” 

“It will be,” said Lily. “There’s only about a million people up here.” She shifted into gear and pressed lightly on the gas. Nothing happened. “It’s dead! Darn it! I thought I had left it running while the radio was on, but it runs so quiet I couldn’t tell.” 

“Oh no!” said Carole.

“My friend will help us.” Said Eric.

“Your friend? asked Carole.

“I’ll go get him.” Eric got out of the car and walked toward an old beat-up pickup truck parked at the edge of the lot. Carole and Lily followed, watching apprehensively as Eric approached the truck’s occupant. Eric began talking to the man and pointed to Lily’s vehicle. The man nodded and started the ignition. 

“He’s coming!” called Eric and got into the truck’s passenger side. They headed toward Lily’s car. 

“Holy shit!” said Carole as she and Lily jogged back to her car. “What has he gotten us into?”

The man pulled up and he and Eric hopped out. “Hi,” he said. “Do you need some help getting started?” He was a 30-something Arapahoe man who introduced himself as Bill. He said that he had hoped to sell his art to eclipse watchers, but casino security shut him down. He decided to hang out and enjoy the party and that’s when Eric, on his earlier walkabout, struck up a conversation with him. 

After Bill helped Lily get her car started, he began laying artwork out on a blanket—wall hangings, pottery, and a hand carved walking stick. Eric picked up the stick and started walking around with it while Lily negotiated the purchase of a leather wall hanging. “I’m buying the walking stick,” Eric said. He offered Bill all the money he had is his wallet – which was about half of the original asking price. Bill accepted and Eric happily settled into the back seat to head home. He held on to the stick for the entire drive.  

As the video ended, Carole closed the TikTop app and called Lily.

“Hey, Lily,” she said. “You got a minute?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I want to ask you a question about our eclipse road trip. What do you remember most about it?”

“I remember the dead car and Eric getting that guy to help us. Bill, I think. I still have his art on my wall.”

“You don’t feel bad about missing the most important part of the day?”

“I didn’t miss it. I was right there in totality with you.”

“You’re really not disappointed?”

“No. If Eric hadn’t found Bill, it would have been a lot harder for us to get going. Why do you ask?

“I told the story on TikTok and some of my peeps think I am being too hard on myself.”

“What do you think?”

“I think I really messed up. I put Eric in danger and forced you to go get him—and miss totality.”

“I just told you that I’m fine with what happened—so you can stop worrying about me. And Eric? What do you think he would say?”

“Oh! I know what he would say. He told the story so many times—every time someone complimented him on his walking stick. He’d say, ‘There was an eclipse. I got the guy to fix our car. Then he sold it to me.’”  

“There you go! He was the hero of his own story! And in a weird sort of accidental way, you gave that to him.”

After Carole hung up, she pulled the stick out of the closet and examined it— a large hardwood branch about 30 meters long with Native American figures intricately carved and expertly painted_. She slid her hands slowly along its length exploring every figure made by the carver’s tool—a dancer, a warrior, a medicine woman, and a lightning bolt that zig zagged from the midpoint to the bottom. She placed her hand on the top of it and held it the way Eric once did. “You were the hero, Eric,” she whispered. “I get that now.”