Norah's Ark

by Judy Baer

  “That she’s going to get better?” I suddenly felt very Pollyanna-ish. “Has anyone even considered that?”

  They all looked at each other doubtfully, as if none of them knew what to say.

  “It’s a great thought, Norah, but not practical…” Lilly began.

  “None of us has the right to decide for Auntie Lou,” Joe admitted. “If she’s well enough to come back to the store, I’ll be the first one to encourage her.”

  “You might be giving her false hope,” Lilly accused. “That’s cruel, if she really can’t come back to work.”

  Cruel? I stared at Lilly. Is that what she thinks I’m capable of now? Cruelty?

  I looked up to see them all watching me, waiting for my next outburst. No way would I give them that satisfaction. I stood up to leave. “I’m sorry you all think that way. I don’t believe we should give Auntie Lou’s eulogy quite yet. I want to believe she’ll be back to the store soon and I will do everything in my power to help her make that happen. I would hope that as friends of hers you’d all do the same.” Then I did a Lilly and swept across the street to my store, more determined than ever to help Lou come home.

  “What’s shakin’, baby?” Winky inquired as I entered.

  “My fists, Winky. I’m so mad I could…I could…spit!”

  Winky gave an impressed whistle.

  “What’s up, Norah?” Annie asked, looking alarmed. I’m not a volatile or demonstrably emotional person most of the time. I’d worried her, too.

  When I told her about Lou and what her so-called friends had said, she murmured. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry for Lou. She’s such a sweetie.” Annie paused. “But what if they’re right, Norah? What if she can’t come back? What then?”

  Et tu, Annie?

  “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we?”

  “You’re right, Norah. Just like you always are.”

  Yeah, right. That’s why everyone is jumping to agree with me on everything I say and do these days.

  “Listen, Annie, since you’re here this morning, I think I’ll run over to the hospital and check on Lou.”

  “Go ahead, I’ll hold down the fort…the Ark, I mean.”

  I escaped out the door and jogged home to get my car without seeing any of my traitorous friends.

  “Lord,” I prayed aloud as I waited at a stoplight near the hospital, “help me. I’ve antagonized or hurt everyone I care about and I still don’t quite understand how it all happened. Lilly, Connor, Joe, Annie…and Nick. They all think I’m losing it. Maybe I am. Guide me, will You? Give me the wisdom I don’t have on my own. Show me what I am to do in all of this. Oh, and could You help Nick and Bentley become friends?”

  When the light turned green and I pulled into the intersection, I noticed the driver to my left staring at me. Oh, great. He must have seen me talking out loud to my Invisible Friend. Now he thinks I’m crazy, too, even though talking to God is the only smart thing I’ve managed to do lately.

  A nurse’s aide scurried out of Auntie Lou’s room just as I exited the elevator. I caught up with her in the hallway. “Is everything okay with Lou?”

  The aide’s eyes grew wide. “She’s a very strong-willed woman, isn’t she?”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “You could say that. It’s what’s kept her going all these years.”

  “Yes, well, it’s still keeping her going.”

  “And that means…” I encouraged.

  The aide waved a hand in the direction of the door. “Dr. Andrews is with her. Maybe you’d like to talk to him.”

  “Right…”

  Chase Andrews was leaning against the windowsill, a chart under his arm. He, at least, didn’t look ruffled by Auntie Lou.

  Lou looked very small in her bed and her eyes were teary.

  “Lou?”

  “Talk to him, Norah. You tell him.” She pointed a finger at Dr. Andrews.

  “Tell him what?”

  “What Lou would like you to tell me,” he said with a sigh, “is that Lou’s home is handicapped-accessible, that she is able to be at home alone, that her store needs her and that you will make sure she’s taken care of.”

  I stared, wide-eyed, first at Dr. Andrews and then at Auntie Lou.

  “But you live on the second floor of the building,” I reminded her.

  I knew immediately that I had not said the right thing. Lou’s shoulders drooped and she looked, if possible, more disconsolate than ever.

  The doctor studied her with a single raised eyebrow.

  Then Lou’s fighting spirit kicked in again. “But I have an elevator!”

  That surprised me as much as it did Dr. Andrews.

  “Haven’t used it in a few years, of course, but it goes from the basement to the second floor. The fellow who owned the building before me needed a freight elevator because he stored things on the second floor. When I had the furnace checked, the technician commented that the elevator was in good shape.” Lou bobbed her head as if to punctuate her announcement.

  Dr. Andrews turned to me. “Lou suffered another mild stroke. A transient ischemic attack, actually, which is also called a TIA. The symptoms are usually temporary and there don’t seem to be any significant complications in Lou’s case. She had some moments of confusion, slurred speech, dizziness and weakness in her hands. That is already subsiding although I’ve ordered physical therapy for her. She’s on medication to prevent blood clots which will reduce the chances of future blockages.

  “A TIA is often a warning sign for a major stroke to come. In Lou’s case, we were fortunate. This gives us time to prevent a subsequent episode. Next time she might not be so lucky.”

  The medical words were spinning in my head. “So now what?”

  “We’ve already got her on proper medications. Some rest, some physical therapy…”

  “…and I can go home!”

  “But Auntie Lou…” I began. Then I saw the look in her eyes and recalled the day we’d talked about just such things. She’d talked about her friend Mazie and how Mazie’s children were forcing her out of her home. I’d told her I would help her stay at Auntie Lou’s Antiques. I’d promised.

  “Lou should be able to go home in a few days if, that is, there is a home to go to.”

  A loud snort came from the middle of the bed. “Of course there’s a home!

  “Barney can fix up the elevator. He’s good at anything mechanical. All I really need is food supplies, a telephone and someone to stop in and check on me occasionally. You’ll do that, won’t you, Norah?”

  “I can.” My mind raced but my tongue was still in neutral.

  “See?” Lou looked triumphantly at the doctor.

  “You have a business of your own to run.” He studied me with a clinical eye. “Are you sure you can do this? There are several very nice convalescent homes in the area that would be excellent places for Lou to recover.”

  “You’ll have to tie me up and drag me there,” Lou threatened. “I’d probably have another stroke at the front door.”

  She was likely telling the truth. Her color had risen unnaturally even during the conversation.

  “Don’t get upset, Auntie Lou, we’ll work something out.” As I said it, two hugely conflicting emotions descended upon me. One was the enormous weight of responsibility I’d just shouldered. The other was a lightness and peacefulness I hadn’t expected. “…learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow.” Isaiah 1:17

  “Okay, Lord, if it’s Your will then it’s mine, but I’m going to need Your assistance with this.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Exhausted, I was thankful to get home to Hoppy, Bentley and Asia who greeted me with a chorus of thumps, yips and squawks. I’d barely had time to scavenge the refrigerator for a snack and share a few carrot sticks with Bentley, who had learned to eat vegetables during one of my dieting frenzies, when the doorbell rang.

  “And Nick thinks you’re dangerou
s and might bite him. He doesn’t even know you’re a vegetarian,” I told the dog. “Stay.” Not that there was any danger he was going to move. He had half the couch to himself.

  I don’t know who I expected to be on the other side of the door, but it wasn’t Julie Morris.

  “Norah, am I bothering you?”

  “No, come in.” I held the door wide.

  She walked into my living room clinging to a small purse with both hands, as though she were protecting it from a street mugger. Every fiber of her body radiated tension. She reminded me of a rubber band stretched to its max and on the verge of snapping.

  “Carrot stick?” I offered. “I’ve got sodas in the kitchen.”

  “No food, thanks. I’m not very hungry.” She perched on the edge of a chair like a butterfly, ready to take flight.

  “Chocolate, then.” I pushed a bowl her way. “If you need a kiss and can’t get them anywhere else, you can always come to my candy dish. I do that quite often myself.”

  She smiled faintly and took some chocolate. I waited until a piece was melting on her tongue to ask, “How can I help you, Julie? Or is this a social visit?”

  Of course I knew it wasn’t, but how else was I to start a conversation with a woman desperately swishing the chocolate around in her mouth to comfort herself.

  “I don’t know anyone on Pond Street very well,” Julie began. “I’ve tried to meet people, having the tea party and all, but these things take time.” She looked at me appraisingly. “You’ve been very friendly to me, and kind.”

  “I’m flattered that you felt comfortable coming here today.” My urge was to take this poor, trembling woman into my arms and tell her everything was going to be all right, but I didn’t know what the “everything” might be. As I’d been reminded of so much lately, life offers no guarantees.

  “You’re a Christian, I think.”

  “Yes, I am, but how…” The subject had never come up in our brief encounters.

  “By the way you are, your being. You seem so genuinely happy and caring. I had a Christian friend once who was like you. But she’s so far away…”

  Oh, I thought, I was wrong. There is one guarantee in life, God’s faithfulness.

  “Thank you, Julie. I try to live my life so that my faith shows, but I’m never sure if it’s working or not.”

  “Oh, it’s working, all right. It brought me here, didn’t it?” Her face was so pinched and pale I was afraid she might faint.

  “The police were at our store today. They wanted to talk to us about Bryce. We had such high hopes for this move but apparently his problems have followed us here.”

  “Problems?” Other than his hair and wardrobe, no doubt.

  “Bryce ran with a bad group at our former home. There was a ringleader of sorts, a boy named Anthony. Anyway, Bryce wanted to be part of a group so he did everything Tony told him to do.”

  She looked up from the floor where she’d been staring. “When Bryce was small, he was very quiet. He loved games and reading. He spent a great deal of time with his grandparents before they passed away and he was so good to them. We never dreamed that a child could change as much as Bryce changed after his grandmother died. He was lonely, I suppose, and then Tony and his teenage thugs came along.

  “The first week he started hanging out with Tony, we had the police on our doorstep. They’d been caught letting air out of tires in a car dealership. Fifty of them.”

  Gotta give the kid credit. He doesn’t do things halfway.

  “It’s been a string of social workers, court dates and counselors ever since. My husband and I believed all along that what Bryce needed most was to get away from Tony. That’s why we moved.” A sob caught in her throat. “And now this.”

  “This?’“

  “There’s been vandalism on Pond Street and Bryce is their prime suspect.”

  I noticed Bentley get up from the couch and move toward Julie’s chair.

  “Do you think he did it?”

  “He says he didn’t, but what else is there to believe?”

  “Does he lie to you?” A funny question to ask, but it popped out of my mouth before I could think about it.

  “Remarkably, no. Sometimes he refuses to speak or to answer questions, but he’s never actually lied to us when pressed. His grandfather used to tell him liars were ‘lower than thieves’ and Bryce took it to heart.” A choking laugh bubbled up in her throat. “A teenage vandal who doesn’t lie. Quite a paradox, my son.” She drew a shaky breath.

  “He loves animals, Norah. Adores them. You and Bryce have more in common than anyone else I know here. He talks about your parrot all the time. Maybe you could draw him out…” Then she choked back a sob. “Forgive me. It’s a ridiculous idea. I’m just so desperate, I’ll do or try anything. I had no right to come here and bother you.”

  He pulled out Winky’s feathers! my logical mind screamed, but my heart—the part that usually gets me into trouble—said, Why not try?

  “What do you want me to say to him?”

  “I have no idea. It was a stupid request. I, oh!” Julie looked down as Bentley put his front paws on her thigh and began to gently lick the top of her hand. It was as if he were saying, “Don’t cry, please don’t cry.”

  “What a sweet animal!” Julie stroked his head with her free hand. “So loving.”

  And so misunderstood, I mused, thinking of Nick’s reaction to him. Suddenly, I made up my mind. I saw the beautiful side of Bentley but Nick only saw his surface, his stocky body and jug-shaped head. Was that so much different from what was happening with Bryce? Although Annie had pegged him as a troublemaker right away and we’d all concurred, his mother believed that his heart could still be reached.

  Why get involved? Why bother? Obviously the kid is messed up. Then the answer came. Because he’s one of Mine. And with that, every nurturing, do-gooder, compassionate cell in my body rose up to be counted.

  “Oh, why not?” Hardly the gracious answer that should have come out of my mouth, but it was enough for Julie.

  “You have no idea how much that means to me. I’d do anything to help my son. I remember the Bryce I knew before Tony.”

  “Does he see Tony now?”

  “Once that we know of. Tony came over on a motorcycle. Bryce said they walked up and down Pond Street and stopped in the shops. We told him it wasn’t to happen again and forbade Tony from coming back. Once or twice I think I’ve seen him in the neighborhood with other boys.”

  I recalled the day, the day Winky lost his feathers. My chest tightened and my fury was fueled at the idea of having a creature of mine treated that way.

  “Julie, is Officer Nick handling this?”

  “No, it’s the juvenile division who is in charge.”

  “What if he talked to Bryce?”

  “Do you think he would?”

  I abruptly wished Nick and I were on better terms. “I could ask him. He was in the narcotics division once. He knows the effects of keeping bad company. Maybe he can talk some sense into Bryce.”

  If Nick is speaking to me, that is. Keeping a vicious beast like Bentley might have made Nick cross me off his list of acceptable company.

  Hope flickered on her features and Bentley, sensing the change, quit licking her hand.

  When Julie stood up to go, she flung her arms around me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have no idea what this means to me. You, Officer Nick—” she looked down at the floor where Bentley sat by her feet “—and your remarkable dog. I feel more reassured now than I have in days.”

  After she’d gone, Bentley and I stared at each other. “Well, doggy, apparently we are the next best thing to comfort food. Can you tell me how we’re going to handle this?”

  Unfortunately, Bryce and his mother were driven to the back of my mind by Auntie Lou.

  I had until Monday, according to Dr. Andrews, to make it possible for Lou to be back in her apartment. He couldn’t keep her in the hospital any longer than that. Lou had h
eld my hand tightly and patted it, saying, “My girl, my dear girl,” over and over again until I felt breathless and had to escape.

  Outside, I tried to gather my wits about me by giving myself a good talking-to. “Okay, Norah, you’ve gone and done it now. It’s one thing to rescue dogs, parrots, cats and hamsters, not to mention goldfish from centerpieces, it’s quite another to try and rescue Auntie Lou…”

  But I’d promised. She deserved a chance to return to the home she loved.

  When I got home, I called Annie and asked her to work for me every free minute she could for the next two weeks. Then I called Barney and arranged a time to meet him at the antique store to tinker with the elevator. I sketched out a grocery list of Auntie Lou’s favorite foods, ones she could eat without having to turn on the stove like canned fruits, cereal and sardines. I gag at the thought of sardines, but Lou says they make a great sardine and tomato sandwich. For Auntie Lou, a slice of tomato enhances everything it touches. It was simple enough to arrange for the market and the milkman to deliver and hire a cleaning service to come in and go over everything before Lou returned home and then to dust and do bathrooms every couple weeks.

  After that, I called my pastor and put Lou on the church shut-ins list to ensure she’d be getting company, casseroles and prayer regularly. Dr. Andrews had given me the name of home health care people and a physical therapist was scheduled to come out after Lou returned to her home.

  By evening, I had done everything I could think of to make it possible for Lou to function out of her home. That was the easy part.

  The hard part was yet to come—telling Joe, Lilly, Connor and Nick what I’d done.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “You did what?” Joe asked through gritted teeth, his face flushed pink beneath his tan. “Norah, do you realize how much responsibility you’ve taken on? What are you thinking?”

  “You could just look in on her once in a while. If everyone did, she’d be fine. I have everything else set up. All Lou needs is a little company occasionally.” At least I hope that is how it will work out.

  “You took a lot for granted assuming that we’d all ‘pitch in’ and do a turn with Auntie Lou.”