The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart: A Hart Brothers Novel

by A. M. Hargrove

  He has a sheet of music open and it looks very simple. He begins to explain it to me and as he does, he plays the corresponding notes on the keyboard. Then he asks me to hum it. He repeats this over and over. “What you will learn is how a ‘C’ sounds. It’s not going to happen fast, so I don’t want your expectations to be out of bounds.”

  “Okay.”

  “I think if I have you come here a couple of times a week, and add those recorder lessons in, you’ll be chirping like a bird.”

  “Don’t tease me, please.”

  “I’m not. Your voice is fine. It’s just off key sometimes. You’ll learn the notes and soon Sister Helena will be smiling.”

  “That will make her happy, indeed.”

  “Emmalia, what will make you happy?”

  His question catches me off guard. “Huh?”

  “You try to hide your sadness, but I can see it. I’m an NA counselor. I’m used to keeping secrets. Why are you sad? You can talk to me.”

  Deflect and redirect. “Thank you for caring enough to ask, but what makes you think I’m sad?”

  “I deal with sad people all the time. I guess you can say your sadness meter is registering high. And I’d like to make another observation. You don’t fit the profile.”

  “Fit the profile?”

  “Of a nun.”

  “Oh, and I suppose you’re a professional nun profiler?”

  He laughs. “You have me there. No, I admit I am not. But all the nuns I’ve ever known or seen don’t look like you.”

  “Now, you’re being judgmental. And by your comment, I take it you’ve been hanging around with nuns a lot in your past.”

  He laughs again. “You’re right. Please forgive me because that was being a bit judgey. If you ever need to talk about what has made you so sad, you can talk to me. What you tell me will stay with me. And just for the record, you’re the first nun I’ve ever hung out with.”

  “Novice, not nun. And thanks. So are we finished for today?”

  “Yes. Can you come back on …” he pulls out his phone and checks his calendar. “Wednesday afternoon, say at four?”

  Now it’s my turn to check my calendar. But mine is the old fashioned kind. I don’t even have a cell phone. He comments on this.

  “No phone?”

  “No. Sorry. If you ever need to cancel, you can call the convent or the school. They post messages on the bulletin board in the offices of both.” I give him both numbers.

  “Hmm. Sometimes I have an emergency pop up with one of the addicts.”

  “It’s okay.” I grin. “It’s not like I’m paying you or anything. It’s very kind of you to do this as it is. Can we do Thursday instead of Wednesday? I’m at the shelter on Wednesday afternoon.”

  “Okay, but I have a meeting on Thursday that starts at five-thirty, so I’ll have to leave here at five.”

  “That’s fine.”

  He walks Ethel and me to the door. “Good luck with Ethel and Sister Helena.”

  “I don’t need luck. I need lots of prayers or maybe a miracle. I can’t stand the thought of her … well, you know.” I shudder.

  When I get to the porch, he asks where my car is.

  “I walked.”

  “You walked? All the way from the convent?”

  “It’s not that far.”

  “But where’s the shelter?”

  “I’m fine.” I look around and notice the sky is leaden, the clouds heavy with impending rain.

  “I’ll drive you. Give me a sec.”

  He joins me on the porch a bit later and I follow him to a truck parked in his driveway. The fact that he drives a huge truck makes me want to laugh, but I don’t. Instead, I say, “I didn’t take you for a trucker.”

  “A trucker, huh?”

  “Yeah, I figured you’d drive a fancy sports car.”

  “No, but you just nailed both of my brothers. I’m the practical one. This thing is great in snow, mud, and I can haul a ton of stuff in it.”

  “I can see that. Do you find yourself hauling tons of stuff then?”

  He glances at me and grins. “Actually, yes. For the business. I’m always moving stuff in and out, or helping someone move in and out.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “So where’s the shelter?”

  I direct him and when we pull up, he asks, “Were you going to walk home from here, too?”

  Laughing, I answer, “I do it all the time.”

  “No car?”

  “No car.” I make a funny face. “That’s the thing about nuns. We don’t own a lot. We give up our worldly possessions and survive on a meager income, you see.”

  “Hmm. I wasn’t aware of that. Never gave it much thought.”

  “So, thanks for everything. I appreciate your help, Kade.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  “What?”

  “Take Ethel, and I’ll wait. I’ll drive you back to the church.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know. But I wouldn’t feel right having you walk.”

  “But, I do it every day just about.”

  “Don’t argue with me. You’ll always lose. Now get. I’ll be waiting.”

  He stares at me and I know he’s serious. I pick up Ethel, who’s wagging her tail at Kade, and say, “Come on, fluff ball. Time to put you back in your cage.” I snuggle her fur up against my chin as I carry her inside. I sure hope Sister Helena will let me keep her. A few people try to engage me in conversation on my way out, but I tell them I have a ride waiting outside.

  When I climb back in Kade’s monster truck, he says, “You really love that little puppy, don’t you?”

  “What’s not to love? She’s so sweet, it’s unreal. I don’t understand why no one has adopted her yet.”

  We drive the rest of the way in silence. When we get to the church, he asks if there’s a way to the convent. I direct him around the one of the side streets and he pulls up to the building.

  “What’s it like in there?”

  “Extremely drab compared to your place.” And my old home, too.

  “Why do you do it?” he asks.

  “You’re very curious, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah, I am. I just can’t comprehend dedicating my life like that.”

  “But you have, only in a different way. Yours is to addicts. Mine is to God. Good night, Kade.”

  Four

  Kade

  Ethel sits on Emmalia’s lap yapping, as I watch the two of them from my seat on the piano bench, and I feel the sour look take over my face. Only it isn’t the off key pitch that’s given me that expression.

  “No, for the hundredth time. I can’t have a dog.”

  “Please, Kade. She only has days left. I don’t know who else to ask. I’ve run out of options. Be my Obi-Wan.”

  “Huh?”

  “You know. Obi-Wan Kenobi? You’re my only hope?” She offers me a shaky laugh.

  I sigh. “Emmalia, I’m never here. She would be left alone so much.”

  “She could be a therapy dog. You could take her everywhere with you.”

  “What did Sister Helena say?” I can only imagine the stern, aged penguin, rattling off dozens of excuses.

  “Oh, boy. That went over like World War Three.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Well, if you consider that she said a dog was nothing but filthy vermin and not worthy of setting foot in her holy convent, and that if I dared defy her I would be kicked out on my bottom, bad, then yeah.”

  “No shit. She said all that?”

  “Um, yep. She really has a thing about dogs. All animals, I think. I tried to bring up St. Frances of Assisi, but that backfired too.”

  “Who?”

  “St. Frances of Assisi. He’s the patron saint of animals. She said she would rather minister to the sick than to animals. And if you know Sister Helena, she can make you feel as though you are five years old. I felt very foolish as she berated me in front of all the nuns. It
was quite humiliating, I can tell you.”

  I watch Emmalia and her head hangs down. I know she wants me to take the dog, but I’m afraid I won’t do right by it.

  “What about Father Anthony?”

  She shakes her head. “He’s in agreement with Sister Helena. They’ve never had animals at the convent and he’s never had a dog either.”

  “I’ve never owned a dog myself. My father never allowed it. I don’t know the first thing about owning a pet.”

  Her head perks up and her eyes spark. “I can teach you. I had pets growing up and I would dog sit for the neighbors. They’re much like plants. All they need is food, water, and love. Oh, and they need to be taken out. But I can help with all that. I can come and get her when I work at the shelter and keep her all day for you. I can do a fifty-fifty split. The big thing is she needs a place to sleep every night.”

  “Emmalia, I never said…”

  “Oh, she’ll be such awesome company for you. And I’ll help pay for all her shots and stuff. You won’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll even cover her food. I get a huge discount on all pet care and food through the store at the shelter. I’ll help you with everything. I swear I will. I won’t let you down, Kade. So what time will you be here tonight?”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes! So I can bring her over?”

  There’s no way she’s going to let me out of this. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

  She grins and it lights up her face. “No way. You will be the most perfect dog daddy ever. I can tell. You won’t let Ethel down.”

  “But I always pictured owning a big rough and tumble kind of dog, not some fluff ball.”

  “Yeah, but God sends us things in cute packages sometimes,” she says. “So?”

  “So what?”

  “What time will you be home?”

  “Around six.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  And true to her word, when I pull up, Emmalia and Ethel, along with a big crate and some other things are sitting on my front porch in the cold dark night.

  “How long have you been here?” I ask.

  “Oh, maybe ten minutes.”

  “Jesus, you must be freezing.”

  “A little. But it’s okay.”

  I open the door and let them in. She lugs the crate inside, and Ethel follows on a leash.

  “Did you walk here carrying all that?”

  “Yeah.”

  I scratch my head. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “What for?”

  “So I could give you a ride.”

  She shrugs. “I walk everywhere. It’s not a big deal.”

  “But do you normally carry all that stuff with you?”

  “If I have to.”

  She’s so matter-of-fact I just stare at her, at a loss.

  “What?” she asks.

  “You’re very odd.”

  She straightens her spine and lifts her head as high as she can, screws up her face, and says, “Because I walk everywhere? I don’t have a car so I use the legs that God gave me.”

  I have angered her. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”

  “Mr. Hart, I am only doing what I do every day. I walk to work, and then home. I don’t live a very fancy life. But that’s okay. It’s my choice. I went to college and I have a degree. If I chose, I could get a job making more money, I suppose. But most of my time is spent volunteering in various places and, of course, working at the school. I’m not a teacher by trade, but I have certain skills that some may find useful.”

  “What type of skills?”

  “Computer skills.”

  “Computer?”

  “I majored in computer science. I can do just about anything with a computer.”

  “And yet, here you are, joining a convent.”

  “Why is that so difficult for you to swallow?”

  At that particular moment, Ethel lets out a yap, and then starts barking. Emmalia bends down and scoops her up in her arms.

  “What’s wrong, fluff monkey?” She giggles as Ethel covers her face in slobbery licks. “Are you hungry? I bet you are. You haven’t had your supper yet.” Emmalia looks at me with raised brows.

  “This way.” We head to the kitchen. Halfway down the hall, I hear a clanging and I turn to see Emmalia toting Ethel in one arm and the crate in the other.

  “For the love of God, woman, would you at least let me get that damn crate?”

  As I reach to grab for it, my hand brushes against her arm and she drops the crate. It crashes to the floor, startling her and she screams. Ethel barks and Emmalia jumps about a foot off the ground.

  “Jesus! What the hell!” I yell. “Calm down, would you?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Jumpy much?”

  She folds her arm across her stomach in a protective stance and hugs herself as she cuddles Ethel. “Sorry.”

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  She stares at Ethel, and doesn’t respond. Emmalia is in some sort of trance, it seems. I reach out and put my hand on her shoulder, and she screams.

  “Emmalia! It’s me, Kade!”

  She backs into the wall and shakes. Her eyes are so huge, it looks like they’re going to leap right out of her head and roll down the hall. Her skin is very pale she looks as though she’s just seen a ghost. I bend down in front of her and click my fingers. I want to get her attention, but I don’t want to frighten her.

  “Emmalia,” I say, softly. “You with me here?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry.” Her hand covers her face as color begins to return.

  “Come. Let’s get some water for you and feed Ethel.”

  We make our way into the kitchen and I seat Emmalia at the bar. I feed the dog and fix a glass of water for Emmalia. I watch as she sips it. She’s trying to cover up the fact that she’s frightened. Her hands are still trembling.

  “Are you afraid of me?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “Then why are you acting like this?”

  “It just gave me a scare, that’s all it was.”

  “Emmalia. I’m not an idiot.”

  “Please drop it, Kade. It’s not a big deal. Honest.”

  “Does Sister Helena know you’re here tonight?”

  “Yes. I told her you were adopting a dog and then we were having a lesson. She knows I’ll be home late.”

  “Are you up to it? A lesson that is?”

  She offers me a tentative smile. “Of course I am. But can you do me a favor first? Will you play for me?”

  Ethel finishes eating and we both take her outside. Emmalia instructs me that Ethel will need to go out every hour or two and after every meal. After she does her business, we go back inside and I play a piece on the piano for her. It’s a popular classical piece that I love, called Dolly by Gabriel Faure. When I’m finished with that, I go right into another one of my favorites, Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. I’m not sure if she recognizes either one, but they are both relatively popular songs as far as classical music goes.

  “That was unbelievable. You should be playing for the symphony or something.”

  “Or something. Which is what I’m doing.”

  “How long have you played?”

  “Since I was about seven or eight. My father forced me at first. But then I would lose myself in the sound. And not only that, it came so easy for me. It was as though my ears knew exactly what keys to hit. Reading music was secondary to my playing. After awhile, it helped, but at first I played by ear. Now I do both. And by memory. When I was going through rehab, I didn’t think I would remember—that my fingers would be able to pick out the keys and the notes. But they did. I guess it was ingrained in them. And now it’s my therapy. I play every night. Sometimes for hours at a time. I’ll lose myself in the melodies and forget that I’m even sitting here.”

  “Oh, how I envy you.”

  Her tone carries such depth of sadness that I glance at her and see dark shadows in her eyes. �
��Tell me what makes you so sad, Emmalia. I know that look. I recognize another haunted soul when I see one.”

  Our eyes meet and she offers me a forlorn smile. “There’s nothing you can do to help me, Kade.”

  “How can you be so sure of that?”

  “Tell you what. Keeping Ethel and letting me listen to you play will help me more than anything else. Well, that and teaching me how to sing.”

  I’m not buying it, but I’ll have to settle for it tonight.

  ~~~~~

  The following Saturday, I go to the school to teach my class of girls their recorder lessons. Emmalia is there, as she promised. This is her third lesson and she’s moving along better than expected. Learning to read music isn’t always fun and it’s not easy teaching young children, especially when they aren’t vested in it. But Emmalia is not like that. I get the feeling she wants to please, but I’m not sure who she’s pleasing—herself or Sister Helena. I think the idea of playing an instrument appeals to her, but I’m not so sure she’s bought into the idea of being able to sing. The thing is, her voice isn’t bad at all. But someone along the way has made her think it is and she has no confidence in herself. I hope I can change that.

  The girls take their seats and immediately start giggling. Is it me, or do all girls this age giggle? I’ll have to ask Emmalia about this.

  “Who didn’t practice this week?” Of course, not a hand shoots up in the air. “Excellent. So can I guess that all of you know how to play a C?” They all nod enthusiastically. “Then let me hear it.”

  And they all play a C.

  “Great job. Now let’s all play an F.” And I take them up and down the scale. By the end of the class, I have them playing Mary Had a Little Lamb. And I want to poke some needles into my eyes.

  Thank hell it’s time to end. I smile and wave them off, giving them their assignments for the week.

  “Emmalia, don’t leave yet.”

  She turns back and waits as I gather my things.

  “Would you like to go for some lunch?”

  She glances at the clock on the wall and then says, “Yeah, I can do that. I don’t have to be at the shelter until one.”