Vigil

by Cecilia Samartin

  As we continued to make our way through the house, I tried my best to focus on the general floor plan. If I was to be shepherding my little flock of one about such a huge area, I’d have to know where I was.

  Millie led me through several formal rooms, all of them elaborately furnished with the same oversized furniture. I’d never seen so many sitting rooms with fireplaces, and could only imagine the black cloud that would hang over the house if they were all burning at once. We continued to walk upon once-lustrous carpets now dulled by years of footsteps, and I noticed that in some places the carpet had worn through, revealing patches of the plain weave underneath. Toys were scattered about here and there, leaving little doubt that Teddy had free reign of this enormous and fascinating playground.

  “Has the Trellis family lived here for very long?” I asked.

  “Since the beginning of time,” Millie replied with a flutter of her hands. “The house was built by Nathanial Trellis when there was nothing else around here but open fields and orange orchards. Nathanial Trellis was Mr. Trellis’s great-great-grandfather. We passed by his portrait just now. He was the old man with the white beard and the pipe.”

  “Yes, I think I remember him,” I replied, not at all certain that I did.

  “He was an extremely religious man and very generous with the church. He made his fortune in the railroad business, and then a bit of horse racing on the side. Unfortunately, his sons and grandsons inherited his love of horses and gaming more than they did his religiousness, and countless acres were sold off over time to pay for gambling debts and who knows what else.”

  We passed by another elaborate living room somewhat different from the others in that it contained enough couches and chairs for at least thirty people to sit, and in the corner, near a row of enormous arched windows, stood a grand piano. In the convent there were two spinets, but I’d never seen a grand piano before and I marveled at the instrument’s size, the fine black polished wood, and the magical aura it exuded. While gazing at it, I could almost hear the music drifting in from the past.

  “This piano is a rare gem,” Millie said. “It’s a Steinway over a hundred years old, and crafted by Henry Steinway himself. I’m sure it’s worth a fortune.”

  “Does anyone play?” I asked.

  “Not anymore,” Millie said, turning away, but not before I noticed the regret in her eyes.

  “Maybe Teddy will be interested in taking lessons someday,” I offered hopefully.

  “Perhaps,” Millie said, but she seemed eager to get on with things, and led me to an enclosed flight of stairs near the back of the house. “We could’ve gone up the main staircase as well, but I like to use these service stairs—they’re quicker.”

  “Is your room up here too?” I asked.

  “It used to be, but when my arthritis started flaring up I had no choice but to move downstairs. My room is near the kitchen.”

  As we climbed the stairs, Millie informed me that my room was next to the nursery, which used to be next to Teddy’s parents’ room, but that they’d moved the nursery to the east wing of the house when Mrs. Trellis’s pregnancy advanced to the later stages. “Teddy fell into the habit of climbing out of his bed in the middle of the night and getting into bed with his mother and father. Mrs. Trellis wasn’t able to get much sleep because of it.”

  It was evident once we’d reached the second floor that the service stairs continued on to a third floor. These stairs were similar to the stairs we’d just climbed, but it appeared that the wood hadn’t been cleaned or polished in many years, and the walls enclosing the stairway were stained with years of grime, upon which I could see the imprint of many little hands.

  Millie noticed my interest as I hesitated and peered up into the darkened stairwell. “There’s nothing much up there but a bunch of old junk and furniture,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I’ve been meaning to have it all cleaned out and closed off, but I never seem to find the time.”

  “Is it the attic?” I asked.

  “Not really,” Millie replied, uncomfortable again. “One of the rooms is used for storage, but most of the third floor is where the servants’ quarters were located many years ago. My room used to be up there too,” she said with a nod. “But things have changed quite a bit since then. Now we have a cleaning service that comes in twice a week, and I’m the only live-in. Of course,” she said smiling again, “now you’re here as well, and I couldn’t be happier.”

  As we made our way down the corridor toward my room, I slowed to admire the view of the courtyard below. It was rimmed by a graceful colonnade and a menagerie of flowers, and in the very center sat a sparkling pool, the bottom of which had been decorated with a colorful mosaic of the same two peacocks I’d seen on the front door. Small currents in the water made it appear as though the magnificent birds were waving their feathers at us.

  When Millie saw me admiring the pool below, she said, “A few years ago that courtyard was featured in House and Garden magazine. Oh, what a fuss they made. Photographers milling about everywhere, designers and journalists acting as if they’d stumbled upon the Garden of Eden, when after all, it’s only a courtyard with a pool.”

  “But it’s so beautiful,” I said, transfixed by the blue-green feathers glistening beneath the water. At that moment a woman emerged from beyond the portico. She wore a black kimono and slippers, and her auburn hair was pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. She pushed the silken robe away from her shoulders and let it fall to her feet, revealing a black maternity suit underneath. It was a wonder to me how she could look so graceful with her belly bulging as it was. It was the length and proportion of her limbs, the exquisite curve of her shoulders and throat. She kicked off her slippers and stepped toward the pool. She raised her arms while bending at the knees slightly and dove in without so much as a splash.

  Millie shook her head and muttered, “Mrs. Trellis knows that she shouldn’t be exerting herself like that.” We watched as the woman swam the length of the pool and back again without stopping. Once in the shallow end, she stopped briefly to smooth the hair away from her eyes and then resumed her laps. Her arms and legs moved smoothly through the water, giving the impression that she was being pulled by an invisible tether from one end to the other. It seemed that if she wanted, she could go on swimming forever without tiring.

  “I’m sure you can use the pool whenever you like,” Millie said kindly.

  I tore my eyes away from Mrs. Trellis. “Thank you, but I…I don’t know how to swim,” I replied.

  “My goodness, I thought all young people knew how to swim. Even I know how, but I wouldn’t be caught dead in a bathing suit at my age,” she said, nudging my shoulder.

  When we reached the nursery we peeked in to see if Teddy might be there, but all we saw was toys and clothing strewn all over the floor and furnishings. In one corner stood an elaborate Legos construction, and in the other a collection of farm animals had been shoved into the mouth of a stuffed dinosaur.

  “Well, he’s definitely up and about,” Millie said with a nervous edge to her voice. I could only assume that she’d been the one assigned to look after Teddy since the nanny had left. No doubt she was the happiest of anyone that I’d arrived to take over. “He’s probably downstairs with his father, the little dear,” she said, chuckling.

  My own room was remarkably spacious, with a large window facing the east garden. It had a double bed with a yellow lace coverlet, an armoire, and its own bathroom. I’d never seen such a large and luxurious bedroom, let alone occupied it. It seemed appropriate for royalty, but certainly not for a young girl who’d spent much of her childhood living in a hut with dirt floors, and then a small convent cell. I was quite overwhelmed by it, so much so that I didn’t dare set my bag down.

  “I hope you’ll be comfortable here,” Millie said.

  “It’s lovely but I don’t need all this space, and I certainly don’t need my own bathroom. Do you have anything smaller? Or perhaps I can s
et up a bed in the corner of Teddy’s nursery.”

  Millie smiled as she took my suitcase and tossed it on the bed. “You’ll get used it,” she said, glancing at her watch. “But I think you should unpack later. Mr. Trellis stayed late this morning so he could meet you, and I’m sure Mrs. Trellis will join you as soon as she’s finished with her swim.”

  We proceeded down the main staircase this time and Millie hobbled a bit as she went, telling me that her arthritis had a preference for her right knee and hand, which only proved how malicious a disease it was since she was right-handed. At the bottom of the stairs we made a sharp left and proceeded down a corridor I hadn’t seen on my first tour. It was paneled in dark wood that gave it a distinctively gloomy feel, and a long russet-colored carpet ran its length. Millie turned and whispered to me. “Mr. Trellis can be somewhat impatient at times, so when he asks you a question, I suggest that you answer it plainly without too much fuss. He’s quite brilliant and he doesn’t like wasting his time.”

  “Thank you, Millie, I’ll try and remember.”

  Millie continued, her anxiety increasing as we made our way down the hall, although it seemed that talking eased her nerves somewhat. “The senior Mr. Trellis was a renowned heart surgeon but neither Adam nor his brother, Darwin, were very interested in medicine. I think they were put off by the long hours their father worked, or perhaps by the gruesome nature of his work. I don’t suppose that cutting people open, even if it is for a noble purpose, can be very pleasant. Dismembering a chicken is the absolute limit for me, and sometimes even that makes me squeamish. Anyway, Adam, Mr. Trellis to you, made a name for himself in finance, and his brother…” Millie smiled in spite of her nervousness. “I’m afraid that he’s only managed to make a name for himself with the ladies. Oh, he’s quite clever, and far too handsome for his own good, just not very focused, I’m afraid.”

  She chattered on in this way until she stopped before a door that was slightly ajar and knocked, her knuckles barely making a sound on the dense wood. I entered after Millie and beheld a dark, cavernous room lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves. By the faint light entering through the window at the far end of the room I saw countless books. But what caught my eye, in between and around the books, was the multitude of anatomical reproductions of the human body, as though torsos had been dismembered and then skinned in various ways to reveal the internal organs. There were also plaques and medical charts of different sizes and colors covering every inch of wall space available.

  A man, who I assumed to be Mr. Trellis, sat with his back to us as he read. By the breadth of his shoulders and thickness of his neck I could tell that he was a large man. I felt suddenly anxious. With the exception of confession, I’d never been alone with a man, and I hoped that Millie would stay in the room until Mrs. Trellis had finished her swim and could join us. Still focused on his book, he turned around, revealing severe angular features and a thick shock of wavy chestnut hair that didn’t appear to have seen a comb for some time. It was difficult to imagine that this coarse-looking man could be married to the refined woman I’d seen just moments ago. He seemed better suited to working in a quarry, digging ditches, or felling trees than he did to this sophisticated world. A chill overcame me, and I hoped that our meeting would be brief.

  Millie cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Mr. Trellis, but the new nanny is here.”

  “Thank you, Millie,” he said, barely glancing at her.

  And to my great dismay she left with nothing more than an encouraging smile that did little to lessen my anxiety.

  “Please sit down,” Mr. Trellis said, waving me toward a chair without looking up.

  I sat in the nearest chair and waited for him to finish his reading. I crossed my legs at the ankle and then uncrossed them. I passed my hands along my navy skirt and quickly examined my cuticles to make sure they were tidy, which they were. When he was done, he carefully marked the page he’d been reading and raised his head to look at me with dark eyes that smoldered like embers in a cave. Still, it was obvious that he was thinking about something else and was reluctant to shift his attention to me. I smiled politely and waited for him to begin, but this didn’t seem imminent. He shook himself from his reverie, somewhat annoyed. “I’m sorry, what is your name?”

  “My name is Ana,” I replied with a polite nod.

  “Very well, Ana. Mrs. Trellis will be joining us shortly. In the meantime…in the meantime…” He seemed at a loss for words as he focused and then refocused his eyes upon my face. “I’m sorry, why are you here?” he asked, his annoyance growing.

  “I’m here to look after your son,” I replied.

  “Ah yes, I know that Millie has been making inquiries, but how did you learn of the position?”

  “Mother Superior told me about it a few days ago,” I replied, grateful to find that I was able to formulate a coherent sentence even though my heart was racing at a gallop.

  At this, I noticed a flicker of interest mar his otherwise impassive expression. “Mother Superior? Millie didn’t tell me they were sending a nun.”

  “Actually, I’m not officially a nun yet. I’m still in the formation process.”

  He smirked, apparently amused to hear this. “The formation process. It sounds like you’re an amoeba.” He studied me for a moment, as though I were the amoeba he was referring to. Then he stood up, his body emerging from his chair like a massive tree rising from the earth. “Did your Mother Superior inform you that this would be a short-term position?” he asked, looking down at me. “Our previous nanny, Flor, should be returning from Mexico in a few months.”

  “Yes, and that suits me very well.”

  He walked around his desk, and seated himself in the chair directly opposite me. “Really? Why is that?”

  I shook my head, flustered and overwhelmed by his nearness. He looked even bigger sitting before me than he did behind his desk. “I…I would like to continue with my novitiate; I plan to take my vows in six months.”

  “Yes, of course,” he said, glancing toward his desk. Perhaps he was eager to get back to his reading, and be done with this mundane exchange. “And you are from…”

  “I was born in El Salvador, but I’ve been living here in the United States for over ten years.”

  He fastened his eyes upon me. “Tell me, Ana, why does a young woman from El Salvador choose to become a nun in this day and age?”

  My mind went suddenly blank, but I was finally able to summon the response that had always seemed like the right one. “I…I was called,” I stammered.

  “Really? By whom?”

  “By God.”

  He seemed intrigued, or perhaps he was just trying to pass the time. “Then why are you here?”

  “Mother Superior told me that she thought it would be good for me.”

  “You mean to tell me that you’ve had the rare privilege of hearing directly from the Master of the Universe, and you listen to a mere mortal?”

  I searched for an adequate answer while staring into his formidable gaze. I was certain that nothing I’d say would satisfy this strange man’s curiosity and intellect. Suddenly I felt the muscles in my face begin to quiver, and I was afraid I might weep, but I managed to compose myself. “I…I…believe that God speaks through those in authority…at times…not always,” I mumbled, feeling defeated.

  Apparently disappointed with such a bland response, he leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. Again, I was discomfited by his sheer size and the potential power generated by his movements. It occurred to me that with one hand he could, with moderate effort, squeeze my throat and strangle me as I’d seen my mother do to chickens on many occasions. “Has your God mentioned anything to you about Teddy?” he asked.

  “No, he hasn’t,” I replied.

  “Well then let me inform you on his behalf,” he said with a patronizing nod. “Teddy is quite a handful. He’ll demand all of your attention every minute of the day that he’s awake and even at times when he’s asle
ep, as he’s prone to nightmares. Millie’s been having quite a time, and my wife is beside herself.”

  “I’m sure that Teddy and I will get on very well.”

  “I hope you’re right,” he said, reaching over for something on his desk. In the process a model of a quartered torso fell over on its side. It had been split open from the base of the throat to the pelvis, and the skin and bones were pulled back to reveal a repulsive arrangement of meaty organs, veins, and guts. I shuddered at the sight.

  “My father was a surgeon, hence all the medical paraphernalia you see here,” Mr. Trellis said.

  I nodded and smiled politely, unable to turn away from the gruesome sculpture before me. I remembered the single white tennis shoe and the twisted foot. I saw the pink and blue intestines spilling over the dirt, and I closed my eyes.

  “Fascination and disgust do go hand in hand, don’t they?” Mr. Trellis asked, and I opened my eyes at the sound of his voice. “When I was a boy my father allowed me to witness a heart transplant. It’s quite a sight if you can get beyond the stench. I’ve never forgotten it. In fact, I’ve come to think of it as life struggling with mortality, and from what I remember, it’s a revolting struggle.”

  I nodded haplessly and tore my eyes away from the grisly sight.

  Dr. Trellis leaned toward me so that his elbows rested on his thighs. He considered me with a most solemn expression, and I was struck by the length of his fingers, which he held together as though in prayer, fine dark hair sprouting from his knuckles. He frightened me, but I was unable to look away from him.

  “It’s much easier to ponder the mysteries of life and death, to meditate in prayer while kneeling in your pristine sanctuary, inhaling the sweet smell of incense, and losing yourself to the beauty of the choir. This is the antiseptic God that you worship, isn’t it, Ana?”

  I stared at him dumbfounded, wishing desperately for our meeting to end.

  And suddenly, my prayers were answered. The door flung open and a little streak of a boy came running into the room at breakneck speed, calling out, “Daddy! Daddy!” at the top of his lungs. He flung himself at his father’s immense frame and scrambled onto his lap. Mr. Trellis stiffened as he received his son’s embrace and then awkwardly patted his back, clearly uncomfortable to have me witness such a tender scene. Nevertheless, parental adoration was visible in his eyes. I admired the little boy’s ability to love this intimidating man with such courage and abandon.