by John Harvey
‘I’m home. Haverhill’s home. I never wanted to move to Brookline. Shifting my office to Boston, I never wanted to do that either. Marion’s idea.’
‘You enjoyed going to the symphony.’
‘I liked the Pops, never the symphony. Symphony was Marion putting on airs, pretending she wasn’t Haverhill.’
Elsa stared ironically at him. In Boston he had eaten lavishly at the best restaurants and grown fatter. His belly billowed from his loose robe, the robe a gift from Marion several birthdays ago.
‘You know why I’m here, don’t you, Uncle Edward?’
‘Your aunt called me.’
‘Please don’t call her that.’
‘You think I’m stealing from you. Why would I do that, Elsa? I’ve plenty of my own money.’
A quiet anger heated her face. ‘I don’t need to be a CPA to know I’ve been cheated. All these years I’ve trusted you. Is it just you, Uncle Edward?’ Her tone turned insinuating. ‘Or is it the three of you? The same old ménage à trois.’
‘Don’t be disgusting.’
‘They control you, Uncle Edward, don’t tell me they don’t.’
His color rose. ‘I’m my own man.’
‘My father was a man. I’m not sure you are.’
‘I don’t deserve that,’ he said as the air seemed to go out of him. ‘And I’ve done nothing wrong.’
Elsa leaned forward in her chair, her voice low. ‘You betrayed me. I can understand Robert and Marion doing that, but you and I, we’re the same blood.’
Tears came into her uncle’s eyes. Crocodile? She didn’t know and didn’t want to guess. He said, ‘You’re the only family I have.’
She started to soften and stopped herself. ‘I’m taking charge of my own affairs. I’m hiring a lawyer to see how much has been taken from me.’
‘You can’t win, Elsa. They hold all the cards.’
‘What do you mean?’
A burly man in starched whites appeared. It was time for her uncle’s physical therapy, lunch to follow. The attendant helped him from his chair.
‘Tell me what you mean.’
‘Thank you for the visit, Elsa. It’s always nice seeing you.’
She parked the Toyota on the street and strode to the front door of the stately brick house where a monarch, then another, hovered near rose bushes not yet in bloom. After a pause, she rang the bell and waited a full minute before the door was opened by a woman with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Each gazed at the other.
‘I’m Elsa West.’
Sally West gripped the door’s edge to steady herself. Her voice trembled. ‘I’d recognise you anywhere. Please. Come in.’
‘I should have phoned first.’
‘No, it’s all right.’ Sally led her through the entrance hall, past a grand staircase and open airy rooms to a large kitchen full of sunlight. ‘I was just making myself a liverwurst sandwich. Will you have one?’
‘I’d love one.’
‘And German beer?’
‘Oh, yes.’
Sally moved swiftly toward a marble counter. ‘Please, Elsa, sit down. I hope you don’t mind eating in the kitchen. I spend most of my time here.’
‘I can’t think of a better place.’ Elsa sat at a table, her hands clasped. ‘This is where I was supposed to live.’
‘I know. Jack – I mean, your father – wanted to make a home for the three of us, but especially for you. I wouldn’t have been a substitute mother, but I could’ve been a big sister. I desperately wanted to meet you after what happened to your father and me.’
‘Marion said it would upset you, but I often walked by your house on the chance I’d see you. Then we moved away.’
Sally placed two steins on the table. ‘Your father brought these from Germany.’ She poured dark beer from tall bottles and moments later, joining Elsa, served liverwurst on rye, slices of pickle on the side.
‘Thank you,’ Elsa said and for the first time clearly saw the plastic surgery performed on Sally’s face. The bullet had gone into one side of the jaw and out the other. ‘It must have been hell.’
‘It all happened without warning. Your father and I had no time for goodbyes. I’ve gotten over much of that, but I still have nightmares. My doctor calls them re-enactments.’
‘Horror shows.’
Sally looked away. ‘Yes.’
‘You never remarried?’
‘No. I live in this big house by myself, though my two sisters lived here with me till they got married. I’m well provided for. My lawyer saw to that.’
‘Robert?’
‘Yes. Your uncle brought him to me. You and I shared in the settlement. I still can’t believe we got so much, can you?’
‘There were two settlements. You should have got more.’
‘No, no, Elsa. You came first.’
‘I didn’t get shot.’
‘But I’m alive. You lost a father.’
Elsa usually had a hearty appetite but could eat no more than half the sandwich. She drank the beer. ‘I’ll tell you what I’d like to do. Will you go somewhere with me?’
‘Where?’
‘The cemetery.’
Sally flushed with pleasure. ‘The two of us? I’d love to.’
When they climbed into Elsa’s Toyota, Sally said, ‘I have one just like it.’
Elsa was not surprised. She ran the Toyota on to the road. ‘Did Robert make the arrangements?’
‘Yes. He’s a wonderful person.’
‘Is he also handling your money?’
‘I trust him with everything.’
Elsa tightened her grip on the wheel. ‘You might want to be careful. He’s a charming man, but he’s not a saint.’
‘He’d never cheat me,’ Sally said and went silent. They crossed the bridge spanning the Merrimack and stopped for the lights, a long-abandoned Woolworth’s on the left and a high-rise for the elderly on the right. ‘I remember when downtown had four movie theaters,’ Sally said wistfully. ‘My favorite was the Paramount, the biggest. That’s where your father took me on our first date.’
The lights changed and Elsa turned right.
‘I’ll never forget the movie,’ Sally went on. ‘Dustin Hoffman pretended he was a woman. It was so funny. But I can’t remember the name.’
‘Tootsie,’ Elsa murmured.
Within minutes they approached Linwood Cemetery, the gates thrown open, as if the dead craved company, theirs in particular. Sally pointed the way, a tortuous route, though Elsa knew it well from annual visits.
‘I wonder, Elsa. Do the dead know they’re dead?’
Elsa shook her head. ‘For them, it’s as though they never existed.’
‘I don’t want to believe that.’
‘You don’t have to.’
The Toyota drifted to a stop and the two women climbed out. Jack West’s headstone, beside that of his parents, was an impressive piece of marble, his brother’s doing. At the base were pots of geraniums.
‘Those are mine,’ Sally said. ‘I put them there three days ago. I should have brought some for Hank and Milly, though I never knew them. Jack’s father was murdered too, did you know that?’
‘Marion gave me the history. Like father, like son, she said.’
‘Marion is not kind. Your uncle is nicer.’ Sally looked down at the ground. ‘I loved your father more than he knew, more than he ever could know. I used to stand here obsessed. If I think of you hard enough, Jack, will you come back? I still do it at times. I’m doing it now. I’m standing here with your daughter, Jack. Here we are.’
In a voice not meant to be heard, Elsa said, ‘He had no right getting himself killed.’
Sally must have heard. She said, ‘If the trooper had done it right, I’d be with Jack.’
Elsa touched her arm. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes. Perfectly. I’m sorry.’
‘Perhaps we should leave now.’
‘I usually say a prayer.’
‘Go ahead if yo
u like. I’ll wait in the car.’
Sally’s eyes glistened. ‘No. I feel like I’ve already said it.’
Each was quiet on the drive from the cemetery. Sally wore a small smile, as if she valued her grief and treasured her hurts. The surgery on the one side of her reconstructed jaw had left a shallow pocket, a less noticeable one on the other side. Almost playfully she began twisting her wedding ring as they approached the intersection at the bridge. The light was green.
‘Go right,’ she said suddenly, and Elsa obeyed. Seconds later Sally pointed excitedly. ‘That’s where it was! The Paramount! And afterwards he took me next door to the Paramount Tea Room. We had cheeseburgers.’
Elsa saw only the ugly edge of a strip mall.
Farther up the hill, at another set of lights, Sally pointed out the old high school, from which Jack had graduated, she from the new one. ‘I have his yearbook,’ she said. ‘Do you know what they wrote under his picture? “Get thee behind me, Satan.” ’
Elsa made more turns.
‘Go slow,’ Sally said and pointed to the tenement house in which Jack and his brother had grown up. ‘Take a left now. Let’s go back downtown.’ Downtown, they passed the Whittier, no longer a hotel. ‘Your father used to take me there for a drink. He knew all the regulars, World War Two guys. I was their pet.’ Farther up, nearing the railroad trestle, she said, ‘Please, stop!’
Elsa pulled into a restricted space.
‘Look! That’s the diner where your father and I met. He was in for breakfast and I was his waitress.’
‘Enough!’ Elsa blurted out, as if her mind had blown open.
Each impacted in silence, they recrossed the river into Bradford. Sally peered through the windshield at the sky, as if answers were somewhere, possibly up there. Slowing the Toyota, Elsa pulled up at the brick house and immediately apologised. ‘I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that. Please forgive me.’
‘Nothing to forgive. I’m sure I got on your nerves. Can we be sisters?’
‘We already are.’
‘You mean it?’
‘Of course. And we’ll stay in touch.’ She leaned over and kissed Sally’s cheek. ‘But promise me something. Never sign anything unless you bring it to a lawyer.’
‘Robert’s my lawyer.’
‘Not Robert. Anybody but Robert.’
‘But I told you he would never cheat me.’
‘Sally, look at me. He already has.’
In a world of wheelchairs, walkers and canes, Edward West toddled into the crowded dining room on his own, with pride and satisfaction. A lot of old people here. He wasn’t one of them. He liked seeing flowers on the tables, but grimaced at the smell of institutional food, an offense to his acquired sensibilities. He sat at the only table with openings, joining Miss Lincoln, who was in her eighties, and another elderly woman, who was potty.
‘You’re red in the face, Edward. Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine, Miss Lincoln.’ He was annoyed. ‘Thank you for asking.’
Miss Lincoln, who did not look her age, was recuperating from a hip replacement. She had been one of his high school English teachers, but she remembered Jack the best and never failed to mention him.
‘A shame, such a shame, what happened to your brother.’
She turned to the potty lady, another hip case, and said, ‘I had him and his brother in my class. His brother was quick, very quick, but didn’t apply himself. Edward here applied himself but was slow.’
‘I’ve done all right,’ Edward snapped as he was served tuna casserole. He stared at it. Tasting it, he said, ‘I’ve had better.’
‘Yes, you look it.’ Miss Lincoln said. ‘When did you put on all that weight?’
The potty lady, who wasn’t eating, grinned. She was painting her nails red, which gave her the aspect of an old bird with lethal claws. Edward avoided her eyes.
Miss Lincoln said, ‘Where did you get that funny robe? From a catalog? Do you need to wear it here?’
Eating, Edward refused to respond.
‘A lot of the boys from your time made much of themselves. Herbert Phillips and Michael Mooradian are lawyers. Francis Grose is a college professor. And of course your brother, for the short time he lived, did very well.’
‘I’m a CPA and a damn good one. I have my own accounting firm in Boston and I have a big home in Brookline, did you know that?’
Miss Lincoln began eating her dessert, a bread pudding.
‘Did you know that?’ Edward demanded.
‘Know what?’
‘What I just told you.’
‘I always thought you worked for your brother.’
Exasperated, he shut his eyes and reopened them slowly. ‘You never liked me, did you?’
‘I tried, Edward. God knows I tried.’
He put his fork down, rose awkwardly and left without a word. The potty lady waved goodbye.
Nearly an hour of physical therapy left Edward ready for a nap. Returning to his room, he stretched out on the bed and almost immediately fell asleep. He dreamed a man vaguely familiar punched him in the mouth and broke his front teeth, which were crowns, a good thousand dollars’ worth of damage. Waking with his hand over his mouth, he was relieved to find no blood on his fingers. He wondered whether his assailant had been one of those panhandlers he routinely ignored on the streets of Boston. Then he wondered whether it might have been his brother.
A few minutes later a nurse appeared and took his blood pressure. Always she annoyed him for a reason he didn’t divulge.
She got a reading and wrote it on a chart.
‘Is anything wrong, Mr West? You always look pissed off.’
He flinched. In his day, nurses never talked like that. ‘I’m fine.’
‘This your last day here?’
‘That’s what they tell me.’
‘It’s been nice having you here.’
‘It’s been good being home.’
Moments after she left, the bedside phone rang. He thought it was Marion and answered in a gruff voice. The caller was Robert, who said lightly, ‘What’s the matter, Tiger?’
‘Did you know nurses don’t wear white any more? No uniforms, no caps. They wear any goddamn thing they please, with a tiny name plate that says RN, but you got to squint to see it. The one who tends to me looks like kitchen help.’
‘I understand you have a bigger aggravation. Elsa. How’d the visit go?’
‘We could be hurt.’
Robert’s sigh was audible. ‘Marion figured you’d be rattled.’
‘Do I sound rattled? I’m not rattled!’
‘Calm down, Edward. You’re hyper. I understand you’re going home tomorrow. I’ll pick you up.’
‘Marion can come after me.’
‘She asked me to.’
There was silence.
‘Relax, Tiger. There’s no conspiracy going on.’
‘Don’t call me Tiger.’
‘It gives you and me a chance to talk. I am your lawyer, after all.’
‘You’re more than that, Robert. That’s the goddamn problem.’ He disconnected without a goodbye.
She didn’t have an appointment, but Dr Wall took her anyway. She had an urge to plant herself in his lap. Daddy, I’m here. Read me a story. Instead she settled into the familiar comfortable chair, where she had a diagonal view of a picture on his desk, that of his youngest daughter. Eloise. ‘Thank you for seeing me,’ she said.
‘It sounded urgent.’
‘I didn’t say it was urgent.’
‘Maybe it merely sounded urgent,’ Dr Wall said and saw her shiver. ‘Are you cold, Elsa?’
‘I wouldn’t mind winter coming if the flowers could stay.’
‘Winter isn’t coming. It’s spring.’
‘It doesn’t feel it. Earlier I was at a cemetery. That’s where the living hide the dead.’
‘Is someone you know buried there?’
‘My father. He should be buried next to my mother in Germany. They
belong together. Maybe they are. I believe if by some meager chance there’s a heaven, it’s a hangout where angels serve white wine and espresso. Dietrich sings. My mother loved Dietrich, though many Germans didn’t. My father liked Sinatra. Do you think they’re happy, Doctor?’
‘If there’s a heaven, I suspect happiness is mandatory.’
Elsa smiled. ‘That sort of takes the joy out of it, doesn’t it? Actually I have no faith in an afterlife – only the here and now. How about you, Doctor? Do you buy into this religious stuff?’
‘Let’s put it this way, Elsa. It’s just as reasonable – or unreasonable – to believe in Homer’s gods as it is to believe the Christian deity sired a son with a virgin. That’s an old story updated.’
Elsa raised her eyebrows. ‘You’ve never responded so openly before.’
‘You’re too intelligent for me not to. You’d put me in my place. And I know my place, Elsa. I’m sorry I’ve been so transparent in my feelings for you.’
‘I’m the one who made an issue of it. No harm done.’ She rose from her chair with a folded sheet of paper in hand and, straightening it, placed it on his desk. ‘Please read this.’
In their shallow sockets Dr Wall’s large eyes grew larger when he donned glasses. He glanced with mock suspicion at the neat page of typescript. ‘This isn’t a suicide note, is it?’
‘It’s a story idea.’
‘I’m not an editor.’
‘If you’re not going to read it, give it back.’
He read it. Then he reread it. ‘Why would you want to write something like this?’
‘Why not?’
Dr Wall removed his glasses. ‘It doesn’t seem to relate to anything in your experience.’
‘Loss is loss. Horror is horror.’
He was slow to speak. ‘Why did you want me to read it?’
‘Answers. You don’t have any. Nor do I.’
‘Wouldn’t I need to hear the questions first?’
‘They’re yours to raise.’
He rose slowly and walked around his desk with no noise. His shoes were rubber-soled, his smile contrite. He returned her story proposal. ‘All I can say, Elsa, is there’s no deed so dark someone won’t do it.’
