When Crickets Cry

by Charles Martin

  "See what you can do about work, let me talk with Charlie because we'll need him too, and then we'll shoot for Saturday morning, early. That okay with you?"

  She was quiet for a minute. In my mind I saw a lady sitting in a borrowed office talking on a land line because she couldn't afford a cell phone. I saw a lady who'd been working two, sometimes three jobs, trying desperately to break the vicious cycle she was in. I saw her take a deep breath, I saw her smile, I saw her shoulders rise and relief fill the aching cavity beneath. And, as I'd seen in hundreds of patients who had come through my office, I saw a glimmer of hope return from somewhere deep, rising like a phoenix out of the ashes of defeat and impossibility.

  In a whisper I was accustomed to, she said "Thank you" and placed the phone quietly in the receiver.

  Chapter 33

  riday night came and found me famished, but I had resigned myself to a microwave dinner. Apparently, Charlie had not. At 5:30 p.m. he appeared on his dock, dressed to the nines.

  "Hey, Quiet-Boy! Boy-Who-Won't-Answer-His-Phone! Boy-WhoDon't-Need-to-Be-Building-Boats! Get your butt over here and pick me up. It's dinnertime."

  I locked my office, where I had spent most of the day, grabbed my keys, and drove the dirt road that circled the little finger of the lake around to Charlie's front door. He stood there with Georgia, tapping his foot. He climbed in, told Georgia to "Kennel!" at his feet, and with a smile on his face said, "Go that way," which was opposite The Well.

  "Where we going?"

  "To pick up some friends of mine. I'm taking all of us to dinner."

  I pulled over and put the stick in park, then turned to Charlie and raised my eyebrows.

  He looked at me and said, "Yeah, doctors don't really like being told what to do, but you're not my doctor. Besides, if we're going on a little trip tomorrow with these people, I just thought I ought to get better acquainted with them."

  We rolled down into the drive where Cindy and Annie sat waiting, looking as if it were the first time anyone had invited them out to eat in their entire lives. Their smiles were worth the price of ten dinners.

  I walked around and opened Charlie's door. "Cindy, Annie, you met my brother-in-law, Charlie, the other day. This is his girlfriend, Georgia."

  They laughed, and Charlie aimed his face in our general direction. He held out his hand, oddly pointing at Cindy, and she took it, looking at me.

  "It's okay," I said to Cindy, "don't worry. Charlie can't see you, but he's already figured out what you look like."

  Charlie smiled, closed his eyes, and hummed like he'd just eaten a chocolate-chip cookie. "And I love Beautiful," he said with his nose in the air.

  Cindy blushed and ushered Annie forward. Annie looked up at Charlie, not quite sure what to do, and Charlie turned his ear toward her. Her breathing sounded like that of a chronic asthmatic. Charlie stepped from the car, knelt down, and placed his right hand gently on Annie's face.

  She stood, hands at her sides, beret flopped to one side, while Charlie traced the contours of her face with his fingertips and then found her hand and shook it gently. He placed his face very close to Annie's, moving his eyes as if trying to find any light or reflection whatsoever. When he finished "reading" her face, he took Annie's hand again and said, "I once knew a girl who looked a lot like you." He held her hand with both of his and said, "I hear you have a special heart."

  Annie smiled and unconsciously rubbed the sandal about her neck.

  Charlie listened, placed his fingertips around both the sandal and the nitroglycerin pill container, and asked, "What's this?"

  Annie beamed. "That was my mama's. It's a sandal."

  Charlie leaned in, placing his ear closer, like a safecracker at work. His fingers tried to read the letters: Ez 36:26.

  "It's from Ezekiel," said Annie.

  Charlie nodded and let it dangle once again at the base of her neck. He spoke in a low, reverent whisper. "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you." He placed his hand flat across the top of Annie's chest. "And I will take the heart of stone out of your flesh and give you a heart of flesh."

  Annie looked surprised. "How'd you know that?"

  Charlie smiled. "My sister liked that verse. She always had a book in her hand. She and Romeo here," he said, thumbing his hand at me, "were always memorizing stuff and then talking to each other in the phrases they remembered. Some of it rubbed off on me, and I've been trying to get rid of it ever since. Guess I hadn't gotten rid of that one."

  "Can I meet her?" Annie asked.

  Charlie smiled and stood, taking Annie's hand and leading her to the front seat. "Yeah, in about eighty years."

  I dropped them off at the front door of The Well, let Charlie and Georgia guide them inside to a table, and parked. The time alone would allow me to get my story straight so that I could lie with precision when we got to the question-and-answer period.

  Just as I reached the door, a light rain started falling. The dark clouds above told me that more than light rain would fall tonight.

  I found them in the corner where Davis, wearing an apron that read Women Want Me and Fish Fear Me, was evidently entertaining Annie with stories. I stood in the shadows and watched her light up the room. Even pale and drawn, she had a smile that cast a daylight glow not even a blind man could miss.

  And Charlie didn't. His face caught it, warmed beneath it, and, like the moon, reflected it back to the rest of its. Davis took their drink orders while I slipped behind the tables to my seat between Annie and Cindy.

  "What's good?" Cindy asked me.

  I opened her menu, leaned over, and pointed at the burgers. "Anything off this `medical' section here. Davis makes the best burgers this side of anywhere."

  She looked at me. "What're you getting?"

  I looked at Annie, then back at Cindy. "The usual. A Transplant."

  Annie dropped her menu, smiled, and pushed her beret out of her eyes. "Yeah, me too." She threw her hands at us as if to say, It's no big deal. "I been needing one anyway."

  The laughter felt good. Actually, the laughter felt great. It was cleansing. And if anybody needed it more than I, it was Cindy. Davis reappeared and took our order: "three Transplants with an extra plate." He disappeared behind the griddle and started pounding ground meat into burgers.

  While we talked, the local band began setting up for the Friday night live entertainment. Sasquatch consisted of four guys from Atlanta who had left their insurance and brokerage jobs to drive two hours north and lose themselves in acoustic and Southern rock.

  While we waited on our food, Cindy directed her questions at Charlie, who was all too happy to answer them. I sat on the edge of my seat, listening, wondering, and worrying. Charlie launched into our childhood, spinning wild and true tales about all the trouble we got into and keeping the girls laughing. Thankfully, he avoided the other half of the story.

  Twenty minutes later, Davis delivered our food, and we started to eat beneath the single bulb that lit our table. Just as I was picking up my fork, Annie spoke up and said, "Mr. Charlie, would you say the blessing?"

  Charlie smiled and whispered, almost to himself, "From the mouths of babes ..." He stretched out his hands, holding Cindy's and Annie's, who in turn held mine, and bowed his head.

  "Lord, You're the only one here who knows what You're doing, so we ask that You come hang out with us a bit. Be the guest of honor at this table. Fill our conversations, our time, and our hearts. For"-Charlie pointed his voice in my direction-"they are the wellspring of life."

  Cindy's grip on my hand unconsciously grew stronger, as if she were responding in the left hand to Charlie's grip in the right.

  "And, Lord, we thank You for Annie."

  The bar grew quiet. At other tables, heads bowed and people nodded behind closed eyes.

  Charlie continued, "We all know she needs a new heart; it doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that, but that's what You do. You fix broken hearts. So, fix those at this table that need fixing." He
paused and let the words sink in. "I don't pretend to know more than I should, but You said in Jeremiah that You know the plans You have for us, plans not to harm us, to give us hope and a future." He paused again. "Because, Lord, I have a feeling that this little girl deserves it. And I know nothing is more dear to You than a little child."

  Cindy's hand shook. At the table behind Charlie, a lady sniffled, and the man with her offered her a tissue. Charlie raised his chin. By now everybody in the bar was listening, and most eyes were not dry.

  "Lord, thank You for this food, for Davis, and for my brother Reese. I pray You bless him ... keep him ... and make Your face shine upon him. Amen."

  I looked up and saw Davis kneeling behind Annie. His eyes were closed, he was praying, and his scarred and mangled knuckles moved like giant waves across Annie's thin back. She sat quietly, eyes closed, her lips moving. Another minute and Davis stood, walking slowly back to the grill.

  From the corner of my eye I saw a young man sitting by himself in the corner, smoking a cigarette, intently watching our table. Termite leaned forward, out of the shadow, and snuffed his cigarette in the ashtray on his table. I nodded at him; he nodded back and then let out a long, smoke-filled breath.

  As we finished dinner, Sasquatch stepped to the mike and started with their signature song, a Southern rock/country time called `Jump-start Me, Jesus, My Batt'ry's Runnin' Low."

  Annie and Cindy loved it. They clapped throughout the song, singing the chorus when the lead guitarist, Stephen George, got back to it.

  Davis dropped the check on the table, at which point Cindy reached into her purse. Charlie heard the jangle and shook his head. "No, ma'am, not here. This is my date, and I'm paying for dinner. But not before I have just one dance with this lady right here." He stood up, found his way to the corner of the stage, and whispered in Stephen's ear.

  Stephen nodded, stepped on some electronic panel at his feet, which did something to the amp behind him, and set down his guitar. He stepped behind the piano and started playing Billy Joel's "She's Got a Way."

  Charlie took Annie's hand and bumped his way again between tables and chairs out onto the dance floor. Annie followed, one giant smile. Charlie dropped onto two knees, Annie's head just slightly above his. He placed one arm around her waist, the other he held chest high to the side. Annie placed one hand in his, the other atop his shoulder, and beamed her way in circles around the dance floor.

  Midway through the song, every eye in the restaurant was trained on those two. When I looked down, Cindy was holding my hand. She just shook her head and watched both everything and nothing all at once.

  That dance was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

  Looking for an excuse to get my hand back, I gave Charlie's money to Davis and folded my hands in my lap. Cindy looked embarrassed and fumbled with her napkin. On the opposite side of the restaurant, Termite lit another cigarette, dropped some money on the table, finished his soda, and walked out.

  I CUT THE ENGINE, AND CHARLIE AND I WALKED THEM TO their door. Annie hugged Charlie's legs and said, "Thank you, Mr. Charlie. I had a lot of fun."

  "Good night, Annie."

  Annie put her finger to her lips and squinted one eye as though she wondered whether or not to ask a question.

  Charlie waited, read the silence, and said, "Something on your mind?"

  "Mr. Charlie, I was just wondering ... is it hard ... not being able to see?"

  Charlie sat down Indian-style on the porch and gently placed both of Annie's hands in his. She sat down across from him and pressed her knees up against the tops of his shins. The porch light was weak, but it reached down and feathered their shoulders.

  "Annie, about two thousand years ago a blind man named Bartimaeus lived in a city called Jericho. Every day he sat outside the city gates, because everybody passed there. If you were blind and needed to beg for money or wanted to get someone's attention, you'd go there."

  "You mean like the men at the stoplights holding those cardboard signs?"

  "Sort of." Charlie smiled. He had taken a red handkerchief from his back pocket and folded it methodically across his thigh. "Bartimaeus had been there for years, just sitting at the gate, blind as a bat. Most everybody knew him, and I bet they were tired of him screaming all the time. But what else is a blind man to do? If he didn't rant and rave a little bit, he'd die."

  Now he held the handkerchief gently against Annie's eyes. "Okay, you hold that, and I'll tie the back."

  Annie placed her fingers over it and then squinted her eyes closed. Charlie reached around her and gently tied the blindfold around her head. He continued his story.

  "So there's old Bartimaeus, begging, screaming, just being a regular old pain in the tuchus."

  Annie interrupted again. "What's a tuchus?"

  Charlie laughed. "You're sitting on it."

  I watched the exchange and smiled: Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

  Cindy stepped closer to me, her shoulder touching mine.

  "One day he hears this crowd coming. Now, Bartimaeus knew most everything going on those days. He was sitting at the city gate. You might say he was like the anchorman for FOX or CNN. So when this crowd starts getting closer, Bartimaeus stands up, waves his arms, and yells at the top of his lungs." Charlie paused. "You know what he was yelling?"

  Annie shook her head.

  "Well ..." Charlie's voice had fallen to an excited whisper. "He knew a crowd that big could only mean one thing. So he starts screaming, `Son of David, have mercy on me! Son of David, have mercy on me!' That might not sound like a big deal to you, but in those days it could get you killed. It was a signal to all the other Jews standing around that at least one person thought the Man coming their way, who happened to be Jesus, was the Messiah-the king they were waiting for. Anyway, old Bartimaeus, he's sick of the gate, sick of being blind, so he ain't waiting any more. And he don't care if somebody kills him or not. He knows the stories, he's heard the news, he's convinced. So he starts jumping up and down, yelling for all he's worth." Charlie painted the air with his hands.

  "The locals, not wanting Jesus to think their town is full of a bunch of nuts and weirdos, tell Bartimaeus to shut up! But not Bartimaeus." Charlie shook his head. "People been telling him that for years. He's not about to shut up. Meantime, Jesus has gotten close enough to hear, and He stops the crowd and says, `Bring that man to Me.' So now the crowd rushes over to Bartimaeus, brushes him off, and says, `Come on.' Now, I imagine his clothes were dirty and tattered, and chances are pretty good he needed a shower."

  Annie smiled and pinched her nose between thumb and index finger.

  "So they bring the blind beggar to Jesus, and I imagine Bartimaeus falls flat on his face, his eyes level with Jesus' toes. I mean, if you really believed the whole `Son of David' bit, then on your face would be just about the only place you'd be. And Jesus says to him, `What do you want Me to do for you?' And Bartimaeus, lying in the dirt, looks up and says, `I want to see.' So Jesus dusts him off, straightens his clothes, and says, `Go. Your faith has healed you.' And just like that"-Charlie lifted the blindfold off Annie's face, and she sat blinking and adjusting to the porch light-`just like that, Bartimaeus could see."

  Annie smiled, and Cindy covered her mouth with her fingers. Then Charlie stood up and helped Annie to her feet. "And that's pretty cool, but what happens next is even more interesting."

  "What's that?" Annie asked, rubbing her eyes.

  "Most of the blind folks Jesus healed ran off home and told everybody they could see. `Bingo! Hello, Mom! I'm back in business!' A natural reaction. But Bartimaeus, he walks over to the city wall where he's been hanging out for years, picks up his jacket, and follows Jesus along the road." Charlie knelt down and placed Annie's hands and fingers along his eyes. "Annie, the best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched; they must be felt with the heart."

  "Did Barta ... Bartimay ... Bartimmam . . . " Annie gave up.


  "Bart," Charlie said.

  Annie smiled. "Did Bart say that?"

  Charlie shook his head. "Nope, another one of my heroes did. A lady named Helen Keller."

  Annie said, "Oh, yeah, I've heard of her."

  Charlie held out his hand. "Annie, I had a wonderful date."

  Annie hugged his neck, careful not to knock him in the head with her hard plaster cast.

  "I may be blind, but I can still see." He turned in my direction. "Sometimes, I see better than those who still have their eyes."

  When Annie let go of his neck, her mouth said, "Good night, Mr. Charlie," but her tone of voice said Thank you.

  Charlie responded to the meaning beneath the surface. He was good at that. "You're welcome, Annie."

  Cindy hugged him, held Annie's hand, and the two walked inside.

  Annie was almost through the door when she turned and walked back over to me. "Good night, Mr. Reese."

  "'Night, Annie."

  Annie walked inside, and I heard her shut the bathroom door.

  Cindy looked at us both and just shrugged her shoulders. "Thanks, guys. See you tomorrow, but. . ." She looked inside and then lowered her voice. "We'd better make it a late start. I have a feeling Annie's going to need her rest."

  Charlie kissed her on the cheek, said, "G'night," and we loaded up.

  When I placed my hand on the ignition, Charlie placed his hand on mine. "Wait a minute." He placed his finger to his lips and rolled his window down. Georgia lay below him, curled up on the floorboard. Her wagging tail made a rhythmic thumping on the mat. Charlie tilted his head, listening, and when I placed my hand on the ignition again, he took the keys and held them in his lap.

  A minute later, Cindy turned out Annie's light, and we heard a door squeak. Then Annie coughed. Deep, low, and loud. It was getting worse. A few seconds passed, and she coughed some more. This time, more spastic, almost twenty times in a row.

  Charlie looked in my direction and said, "You hear that girl coughing?"

  I knew what he was asking.

  He shook his head and smacked me hard in the chest with an open palm. "I asked you if you heard that little girl coughing."