Picking at the muffin and refilling my cup with hot water from the kettle, I tried to shake the melancholy. The tea bag still had some life left in it, and seeped swirls of green into the water. I watched it in a trance, rubbing Max’s ears as I recalled the past week’s events. He jumped up, laying his front paws and chin on my lap.
The days had passed in a blur, populated with undertakers, clergy, and lawyers. Freddie hired a temporary assistant to fill in for Siegfried, realizing he wouldn’t be back to work for weeks. He and I stayed home to help Lily through the confusing process of making unpleasant, but necessary, decisions.
Burial or cremation? Confucianism? Christian? Civil service? And who would pay for it?
Siegfried insisted on covering all expenses, down to the new black outfit and shoes Camille helped Lily buy for the funeral. Every step of the way was complicated by Lily’s lack of… anything. No papers to prove her relationship to Thom. No license, no birth certificate, no passport. No green card.
I had nearly panicked when the lawyers had jumped on that one.
What if she’s here illegally? Maybe that’s why her brother kept her hidden for all these years?
They’d talked around it for a while, and tabled it temporarily. But my brain kept worrying.
What if she’s deported?
I hated to dwell on it, but couldn’t stop the flow of thoughts. If she were deported, it would rip Siegfried’s heart out.
Max issued a short breathy bark, calling me to duty. I pulled off another crust and tossed it. He missed this time, and snuffled all over the floor to find it.
“Sorry, buddy.”
The memorial service was held in a funeral home on Main Street, Conaroga. Most of the town attended to pay their respects to Lily, shaking her hand gently and promising help. Afterwards, Siegfried and Lily took the urn to the alfalfa field behind the barn. Lily performed her own ceremony with a candle, mirror, and scarf. I watched as she tossed the ashes skyward, waving the yellow silk scarf into the blue breeze as she closed her eyes and chanted. I didn’t know if the practice was customary for her culture, or if she’d created a hybrid ceremony from snatches of childhood memories.
Throughout the week, Maddy had kept my classes going by drafting fellow professors to handle my schedule. I’d have some favors to repay when golf and fishing seasons started up. My colleagues were die-hard fans of both activities.
Max laid his head on my lap again, rolling his eyes upward and whining. His tail flagged the air to remind me he was still there.
“Okay, boy. Here you go.”
I gave him the plate with a few crumbs and a smear of peanut butter. He lapped it up, and looked comical licking his lips, trying to manage the sticky peanut butter.
“You like it, huh, boy?”
His tail wagged and he nearly smiled. The dog, so close to human, could practically read my thoughts.
Over the course of the week, I’d called Bello Mondo several times to ask about Kip. I missed him a great deal, and wondered if he’d made any progress in his own Internet searches. I spoke directly to Debbie twice, explaining the situation. She assured me Kip was doing splendidly, and that he’d become a regular Google expert. On one occasion, I spoke with Kip himself, and was delighted to find his manner crisp and clear, his words articulate, and his mood stable.
We arranged for a visit. Tomorrow, Sunday, I would pick him up, and for the first time in seventy years he would dine at a table without a plastic tablecloth and food made in tubs for the forgetful masses.
As the house slept, I wondered about Lily’s future. With no money and no means of proving her identity, I thought she would have trouble getting state aid for the rebuild as well as fundamental things, like health care. How does one do anything without a social security card?
I had an idea.
I picked up the phone and dialed Maddy’s house.
Joe answered, sounding fully awake. “Russell here.” He barked his greeting as if he were at the Sheriff’s department.
“Joe, it’s Gus. I need a favor.”
After a brief discussion about Lily’s lack of paperwork, we decided that a search of her half-burned building might help. He agreed to smooth the way with the proper authorities, and to meet me there in a few hours.
***
To my surprise, Joe arrived with two fully outfitted firemen. After introductions, the red-faced chief limped toward me and held out a yellow hard hat. I accepted it and promptly forgot their names as I joined them to walk around back. It wasn’t because I didn’t respect them, I did. I donated money every year to the department. But my own memory wasn’t perfect, and names seemed harder to remember as the years flew by.
“The upstairs is gone, and the first floor is difficult to maneuver, because of the fallen beams and debris. But we’ve checked out the cellar. It’s solid and accessible from this storm door over here.” He paused to emphasize what he said next. “And there’s an office down there.”
“Perfect,” I said. “It might have the documents we’re looking for.”
He waved toward the shop with a gloved hand. “The building was built around 1900. Very sturdy, amazing how well it held up under the blaze. Any modern building would have collapsed.”
I nodded and looked up at the blackened frame of the structure. Someone had nailed plywood over the first floor doors and windows, and there was a new padlock on the storm door.
“Who did this?” I asked, knowing Lily would want to reimburse them when the insurance money came in.
“Bud Smelthoff.” He nodded up the street toward Bud’s insurance office. “He got a few guys together and they buttoned it up after the claims rep left.”
Joe reached down and rattled the padlock. “You guys got the keys?”
“Right here. Got ‘em from Bud a few minutes ago.”
The other fireman, a tall Nordic-looking fellow, hurried forward and unlocked it, flinging back one door to reveal a yawning hole. He turned to me, fishing in his gaping jacket pocket for a small flashlight. “Here. You might need this.”
“Thanks,” I said.
Joe flicked on his flashlight and played it over the cellar steps. “All right, gentlemen. Let’s see what we can find. Maybe we can salvage something of value for Miss Kim.”
Joe led the way, followed by both firemen. I brought up the rear, feeling my way down the uneven stone steps. A thin layer of moss covered the stone and masonry walls and a scraggly ivy vine trailed along the sides of the opening. The cellar smelled of wet charcoal.
We split up. I passed an enormous furnace and skirted around a rusty water heater. Apparently the Kims had used the space for storage. Bolts of fabric filled one of the side rooms roughly finished with a raised floor, dehumidifier, and painted shelves. An office, with an adding machine, ledger books, and several metal boxes neatly stacked on the shelves, occupied one corner. I wondered if Thom had stored his ledgers in the boxes to protect them from a possible fire.
A pang of doubt ran through me.
Should we be snooping around Lily’s house? Do we have the right to be pouring over their private business records?
I shook it off. Lily was in no shape to deal with such details, and someone had to help her get situated. After all, for the past week, she’d alternated taking long, slow walks with Siegfried through the woods with sitting in front of a makeshift altar she’d erected for her brother. Maddy had dug through copies of her old Genesee Valley Penny Savers and found a newsprint photo of Thom when Kim’s Tailor’s had been honored for “small business establishment” of the month. Camille had framed it for her, and for hours on end each day Lily wept and knelt before her makeshift altar of the picture and a candle floating in a shallow dish.
It bothered me that my brain couldn’t resolve the red welts on her back that contrasted so strongly with a brother she idolized.
But who else could have hurt her?
Locked away in that shop, year after year, with no outside contact—it seemed unlikely any
one else could have done it.
I checked out the office area, searching for a file where Thom might have kept important papers. The metal boxes revealed customers’ bills and receipts, nothing of interest. I searched the oak roll-top desk in the corner, pulling out drawers and rifling through stacks of invoices and sales slips for fabric.
After rummaging through both side drawers with no luck, I went for the center drawer. I pulled too hard and it slid all the way out and dropped onto my lap. Inside were articles on Korea, travel brochures, and glossy fashion magazines displaying outfits of high couture.
Frustrated, I ran my fingers under the drawer, hoping to find something taped beneath.
Nothing.
I felt beneath the desk, where the drawer would slide in.
Nothing.
Finally, I pulled out each drawer in turn and flipped them over. Just as I was about to give up, I hit pay dirt. The second drawer from the bottom on the right side of the desk had a sealed envelope taped to the underside. I held the yellowed envelope to the light, at the same time Joe called to me.
“Gus. Over here.”
Tucking the envelope in my pocket, I hurried to the other side of the cellar. Joe stood with his torso wedged behind a stand of shelves he’d pulled out. Banks of blue jars glinted in his flashlight’s glare as he swept it across the wall behind the shelf.
“Here it is, buddy. This is it.” He backed out of the crevice and gestured for me to look inside.
Both firefighters joined us. I flipped on my flashlight and peered in. Gold letters on the black surface of the old safe reflected dully in the light. We edged it out of the hole in the wall and dragged the heavy old beast into the center of the room.
“Well. This may be it, Gus. Now all we need is the combination. Think Lily knows it?”
I shook my head. “Unfortunately, I don’t think Thom shared anything of importance with her. But I might’ve stumbled on something.” I slid the envelope out of my pocket. “I found this taped beneath a drawer.”
I handed it to the Chief, who eased it open, peering inside.
“There’s a slip of paper in here,” he said as his partner held up the light so he could read it. “Yup. It looks like a combination.”
Surprised that life had actually cooperated for a change, I knelt before the safe as he read off the numbers. After several bungled attempts, I got it. “Here we go.” Mentally crossing my fingers, I pulled open the heavy door and peered inside.
Stacked just inside the safe were several unsealed manila envelopes. I sifted through the contents of the first one, delighted to find what seemed to be birth certificates. The script was in Oriental characters, and a red official stamp embossed the top of each parchment, which lent an authentic feel to the documents. I flipped through two passports, green cards, and a mortgage for the shop. The second envelope held over ten thousands dollars worth of bonds.
“What’s in the black plastic bag, Gus?” Joe asked.
A trash bag filled with rectangular-shaped objects was wedged against the back wall of the safe. I reached inside the bag and pulled out a paper-wrapped block.
“It feels like…money.” I unwrapped the brick carefully.
Joe whistled and the firemen moved closer.
“How much is it?” the chief asked.
I shook my head. “Don’t know. But this stack is in hundreds, and there are at least ten blocks in the bag.”
“Guess Mr. Kim didn’t believe in banks, huh?” the Chief said.
I straightened and dusted off my pants. “Guess not. But one thing’s sure now. Lily’s gonna be okay.”
Chapter Twenty
Joe helped me bring the money and documents home. We showed them to Lily, who ignored the paperwork and reacted to the money as if it were chunks of cardboard. We laid it out on the kitchen table for her, and counted it.
“Eighty-three thousand dollars, in cash,” Joe said, brushing his hand back along his bristly salt and pepper hair. He tugged on his collar and whistled. “Incredible. And that’s not counting the bonds.”
Siegfried sat close to Lily, holding her hand and trying to explain. “We will put this in the bank for you, Lily. And the bank lady will give you a card. You use it like money. They call it a debit card. I have one in my wallet.” He fished it out and laid it on the table. “See? This is my debit card.” He said the word as if they didn’t fit in his mouth. “De…bit card.”
She looked at him with lackluster eyes.
“It is like money, or a paper check,” he said, trying hard to get it across to her. “You can buy things with it.”
I smiled at him, proud he understood the finer points of banking. He’d done a lot better than me in the savings department. And now, with Lily’s money, if they married and built the cabin, they’d have a nice little nest egg.
Camille and Shelby burst through the kitchen door, carrying armloads of groceries. I rushed to help them.
“Oh my Lord,” Camille said as she piled four bags onto the kitchen counter. “I think we bought out the whole store. We were out of everything.”
“Is there more outside?” I asked, helping Shelby with her bags.
“The whole car is full. You wanna help?”
I nodded, but just as we were about to head outside, Camille noticed the loot on the table, and stopped open-mouthed to stare. “What…”
Shelby ran toward it. “Whose money is this? It must be a million dollars!”
“It was in a safe in the Kim’s basement. Joe found it.”
Joe flushed. “Yeah, but Gus found the combination.”
“Look,” I said, pushing the passports and documents toward her. “We found her papers. She’s legal now.”
“Oh, thank God!” Camille put an arm around Lily’s shoulders and looked into her face. “No more worries, Lily,” she said slowly. “You don’t have to worry about proving who you are anymore.”
Lily tossed her a half-smile, but the importance of the discovery seemed lost on her. She still hid behind clouded eyes and her shoulders drooped. Siegfried had tried so hard to comfort her over the past week, but it had barely seemed to help.
He squeezed her hand gently and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Now you can stay, Lily,” he said. “You–can–stay–with–me. Lily–stay–with–Siegfried.”
She got it. A faint flicker of hope crossed her face. “Lily stay Siegfried?” she repeated.
He nodded his head enthusiastically. “Ja.”
She lifted one delicate hand to his face and stroked it with the back of her fingers. “I stay.”
He caught her hand and kissed it tenderly. I looked away, suddenly feeling as if I were intruding.
“Come on, Dad,” Shelby said as she pulled my arm. “Let’s get the rest of the bags.”
Camille and I followed her outside, leaving them alone for a brief moment of intimacy—something they wouldn’t experience very often in our well-populated home.
Chapter Twenty-one
The hum of conversation in the great room, occasionally punctuated with laughs and shrieks from my mother-in-law, filled the house with a sense of family. I worked in the kitchen, having rebuffed all half-earnest offers of help, and allowed the simple tasks of preparing a meal for my family to soothe my lingering raw emotions.
Unearthed memories of Elsbeth’s death bubbled fresh in my psyche, and had taken their toll. Weakened by these feelings, it had been difficult for me to provide solid support for Lily during her time of need. But with Camille’s help, I’d come through the funeral and had emerged whole.
It hadn’t been easy.
I chopped a head of red cabbage with my father’s old cleaver. Holding the smooth wooden handle, I watched burgundy slivers of cabbage fall onto the chopping board, and somehow the simple motions helped the tension from the week fade away.
In the other room, Kip’s voice alternated with Oscar and Maddy’s, and I listened to him sharing some of his memories.
Camille and Shelby sat beside Kip on
the couch and hung on his every word. Shelby’s interest stemmed from Kip having been a musician in the days of Ella Fitzgerald. She’d recently become infatuated with Ella, collecting and listening to her music non-stop. Camille interjected the occasional clarifying question. I could see her wheels turning and almost felt her desire to hop online and start a fresh search.
Oscar, Millie, and Kip hit it off, chuckling and laughing together over events from their era that seemed to trigger more memories in Kip. They discussed movies, actors, and political figures. I couldn’t hear the entire conversation, but was heartened by their laughter.
I dumped the cabbage into a sizzling electric skillet along with diced apples and onions. After adding brown sugar and vinegar, I set the lid on the pan and let it cook.
Tomatoes from last summer’s garden defrosted in the microwave, and while they softened, I looked out the kitchen window and saw Lily and Siegfried emerge from the woods with Max and Sheba, his devoted golden retriever. Both dogs had grown accustomed to the daily walks, and frolicked near the leashes hung by the door as soon as they heard the magic word “walk” spoken from Siegfried’s lips.
That one word was all it took, and they’d jump from whatever toy they were chewing on or even from an apparent dead sleep, tapping toenails over the linoleum in a happy frenzy.
Yesterday, after discovering Lily’s fortune, we’d taken her to the bank to start an account. Shy and anxious, she’d signed her name in English with shaking hands, having been trained by Camille just an hour earlier. For her own peace of mind, she signed in Korean, as well. We’d made copies of her documents at the post office, and stashed the originals in a new safe deposit box in Lily’s name.
I melted a stick of butter and added it to three crushed stacks of whole wheat Saltines, layering them between diced tomatoes and cheese. Scalloped tomatoes ranked high on my list of comfort foods.
Oscar surprised me, peering over my shoulder. “Gus?”
Lady Blues Page 12
