Invisible, as Music

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Invisible, as Music Page 33

by Caren J. Werlinger

She’d even peered into Henrietta’s room, hoping to see some clue that would explain the change in her demeanor. The only thing that stood out was that the photo of Henrietta and Una was missing. Ryn strongly suspected it had been tucked away again into one of the dresser drawers.

  Finally, in desperation, she cobbled together all the loose change she could find and walked into the village, looking for a phone booth. She wanted the kind that had a door that closed so she could speak freely without being overheard.

  Overhead, heavy clouds moved in from the west. She hoped she could accomplish her mission and get back before it rained.

  From her pocket, she pulled a piece of paper with the number to the nuns’ motherhouse. Franny had told her to call if she needed anything. Ryn whispered a quick prayer that Franny would be available on a Saturday afternoon.

  She dialed the number and deposited the required number of quarters into the slot. When a woman answered, Ryn asked for Francine Mabry and waited for what seemed like forever. She shifted inside the hot, smelly booth while the seconds ticked away. She nervously flipped the metal cover over the returned change slot as she waited.

  “Ryn?” came Franny’s voice at last.

  Before Ryn could say anything, the operator cut in. “Please deposit four quarters for three more minutes.”

  Ryn quickly jammed the quarters into the phone. “Franny, I don’t have much time. Henrietta is completely weird. Back in her old clothes. Won’t talk to me. Hardly interacts at all. Do you know what’s wrong?”

  “No, but something happened that last week we stayed with her.”

  “What?” Ryn pounded a fist against the glass wall of the booth, startling a small dog on a leash just outside so that it yapped angrily.

  “I don’t know. But we all noticed it.” Franny paused. “It changed sometime between my last two nights with her. One day, she was fine, talking and laughing. I think she had an appointment that day when I left. The next time I stayed, she was like she is now. I asked Roberta if she noticed it. She said she did, but none of us knows why.”

  Ryn flipped the piece of paper over and tugged a pen from her pocket. “When were your last two nights? Do you remember?”

  Franny had to think for a few seconds. “Tuesday was my second to last night. I remember because Bonnie was there the next morning.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “Ryn, don’t give up. Remember what I said to you that day. Real love isn’t easy. Fight for it.”

  “I will. Thanks, Franny.”

  “See you in August.”

  Ryn hung up and stood there a moment. When she opened the door and stepped outside, she took a deep breath of fresh air.

  With her determination renewed, she walked home, where an unfamiliar Chevy was parked in the drive. Just as she approached the front door, it opened unexpectedly and a paunchy, middle-aged man stepped out.

  “We hope to see you soon, Miss Cochran.”

  He nodded in Ryn’s direction and got in the Chevy.

  “Who was that?” she asked when she stepped inside.

  “Tom Bartlett, the manager of the country club,” Henrietta said, moving to the couch. “He came to invite me to return.”

  “To return.” Ryn tried not to sound judgmental. “I thought you said you’d realized how biased the club is, and you didn’t want to be part of that.”

  Henrietta carefully avoided looking at her. “I’ve missed my friends from the club.”

  “You said they weren’t really friends.”

  “Why are you cross-examining me?” Henrietta asked sharply.

  Ryn’s patience snapped. “Why are you acting like this?”

  “Like what, exactly?”

  The icy tone of Henrietta’s voice should have been a warning, but Ryn didn’t care.

  “Like… like you used to.” Ryn moved to sit beside her. “All closed up and hard. Hank—”

  “My name is Henrietta.”

  Ryn stood. She felt as if Henrietta had slapped her. When she was able to speak, it was only a whisper. “You said you loved me.”

  “Yes, well…” Again, Henrietta wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I expect I was just caught up, what with spending time with Maxine and Sandy. The idea of… it’s preposterous.”

  Ryn backed up a step. Blindly, she yanked the door open and strode outside, where a light rain had begun to fall. Retracing her steps, she stalked off down the road, not knowing or caring where she was going. She just needed to be away from the house, away from Henrietta.

  By the time she got to the village, the light rain had become a steady downpour. Water dripped from her hair, running in steady rivulets down her face and inside the collar of her T-shirt. Her Converse squished with each step. The tears on her face mixed with the rain, and she felt as if her entire body had filled up with tears that brimmed over when they reached the level of her eyes. It was bottomless.

  She had no idea what path she took, but she found herself on campus. Only a few office lights glowed through the gloom, and the quad was deserted. For a moment, she considered going to Beverly, but the thought of running into Talbert right now was too much. She couldn’t let him see her this broken. Her feet turned of their own accord in the direction of the chapel.

  Tentatively, she tugged on the door handle, expecting it to be locked, but it wasn’t. The inside was even darker, with only two nearly burnt-out votive candles lit in a small alcove off to one side, their small flames dancing with the inrush of air when she entered. Digging into the pocket of her wet jeans, she found the leftover quarters from her phone call to Franny. She dropped a couple into the change box and tried to light a candle. Her wet hands were trembling so badly, she couldn’t strike a match. After mashing three matches, she finally just held a match to one of the lit candles. It flared wildly for an instant. When she touched it to the wick of an unlit candle in the top row, it seemed the illumination grew by a factor of ten.

  She knelt at the prie-dieu, tears still welling in her eyes. “Help me,” she whispered. She screwed her eyes shut, remembering Henrietta’s evolution—the softer hairstyle, the new clothes—all the outward signs of the changes that had been happening inside. Henrietta’s hard edges had softened, too. The smiles, the warmth in her gray eyes, the ease with which Henrietta had started to touch her. All gone now.

  “What happened? I don’t understand.”

  The only sound was the tiny whicker of the candle flames in the lower votives as they flickered in their pools of melted wax.

  She thought of the things Franny had said and pressed her fingers to her eyes. Was this some kind of trial? Some kind of test? To see if she was worthy?

  A small puff of air, like a breath, brushed against her cheek, and the two candles guttered out, leaving only her candle burning. She looked around but no one had entered the chapel. Her candle flame blew wildly, fanned by some unseen gust and, suddenly, the wick of the candle next to it caught, burning brightly.

  Side by side, those two candles burned, their flames improbably tall, dancing toward each other, blending together into one brilliant light for a moment before separating again.

  Ryn gasped and stared at them. Behind her, the chapel door opened, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  “Meryn?” came a coarse whisper.

  “Here.” She stood to find Maxine and Sandy standing just inside, a dripping umbrella in Sandy’s hand.

  “I told you I saw her,” Maxine said.

  “What are you doing here?” Sandy asked as they approached her. “You’re soaking wet.”

  “And crying,” Maxine added, staring intently at Ryn’s face.

  “What’s wrong?” Sandy laid a concerned hand on her shoulder.

  Ryn opened her mouth, but the tears started up again, and she couldn’t speak.

  Sandy wrapped her arm around Ryn’s shoulders. “Come home with us.”

  The gloomy afternoon turned into a gloomier evening and then night, and still there was no sign of Meryn. Henrietta kept walking to
the front door, stepping out onto the covered porch to stare at the steady sheet of rain falling outside.

  You practically pushed her out the door, she reminded herself. What did you expect?

  She was too ashamed to answer her own question. She wanted the girl not to be tied to her, but what, exactly, did that mean? Maybe she wouldn’t be content to stay here after Henrietta unilaterally changed the terms of their relationship.

  “We don’t have a relationship,” she muttered aloud.

  But we do, insisted another side of her, the gentler, kinder side that had only emerged with Meryn’s presence in her life.

  She felt as if she were two people stuffed into one body.

  She tried to convince herself to eat something, but her stomach turned at the thought. She sat on the sofa, clicking endlessly through the channels, unable to settle on anything.

  Gazing around the living room, she forced herself to remember what it was like, nearly a year ago, when Amanda left and she was without a companion. That interval had been hell, she recalled.

  “But that’s no reason to keep the girl imprisoned here!”

  As she said it, she realized that that conflict summed up the entire problem. She could admit—to herself—how much she loved Meryn, but because she loved her so much, she couldn’t keep her trapped here. No matter how much she needed someone to be here, it wasn’t fair. It was time. Meryn had to go.

  No sooner had Henrietta reached that conclusion than headlights swept through the rain and a car pulled into the drive. She got to her feet and hadn’t quite reached the foyer when the key turned in the lock and the door opened.

  To Henrietta’s surprise, Maxine sailed into the living room, followed by Meryn and Sandy.

  “Good evening, Henrietta.”

  “Maxine.” Henrietta stole a glance at Meryn, but the girl wouldn’t meet her eyes. She couldn’t help but notice how red and swollen her eyes were.

  Sandy carried a large pot in her hands. “We brought some chili. We figured you probably hadn’t eaten.”

  “But I don’t—”

  Ignoring Henrietta’s protest, Sandy walked past her into the kitchen where she plunked the pot on the stovetop and turned on a burner.

  “I’ll be right back,” Meryn said, heading to her room.

  With Maxine and Sandy both in her kitchen, Henrietta was left with no choice but to follow.

  “Have a seat, Henrietta,” Maxine said.

  It wasn’t a request.

  “You, too,” she said to Meryn when she returned, wearing different clothes.

  Meryn sat silently as Henrietta glared at them. Sandy and Maxine moved efficiently around the kitchen, getting bowls and glasses from the cupboards. Henrietta, out of the corner of her eye, saw that Meryn still wouldn’t look at her.

  The only sound in the kitchen was Sandy and Maxine’s low voices as they filled glasses with water and checked to see if the chili was warm enough to serve.

  When it was, they set four bowls down and took the two remaining chairs.

  “It’s not spicy,” Sandy said to Henrietta as she spooned up some of the aromatic chili.

  Henrietta sampled it and realized how hungry she was. Meryn, she noticed, ate a little but not with her typical relish.

  “This is good, hon,” Maxine said.

  “Thanks.” Sandy smiled.

  The two of them acted as if this was just an ordinary visit. Henrietta felt unsure about what exactly they were doing here, so just ate a bit more, though her nerves made it difficult to get anything down.

  “Well,” Maxine said when her spoon scraped the bottom of her bowl, “since it’s apparent you two aren’t going to initiate any conversation, we’ll start.”

  Henrietta paused her spoon.

  “You might wonder how we happened upon Ryn,” Maxine continued, sounding as if she were reading a story to children at the library. “We were driving past St. Aloysius, and I thought I saw her walking through the rain. No umbrella, no jacket. We went to investigate.”

  “And,” Sandy picked up the narrative, “we found her in the chapel on campus.”

  “In the chapel?” Henrietta looked openly at Meryn for the first time.

  Meryn’s face was red, but she just nodded.

  “We pretty much forced her to come home with us.” Sandy rested her arms on the table. “And we pretty much forced her to talk to us.”

  “And now,” Maxine said, picking up with what seemed to be a coordinated attack, “we are going to force you to talk to us, Henrietta.”

  Henrietta dropped her spoon into her chili. “You think so?”

  “Told you,” Meryn mumbled.

  Maxine folded her hands, commanding the attention of the others. “If you two separate, if you don’t stay together, it’s going to be for a better reason than that you didn’t communicate.”

  She turned to Henrietta. “If you’re not going to volunteer to Meryn what you were researching at the library, I will.”

  Meryn sat up straighter, and even Sandy looked intrigued.

  “What business do you have—” Henrietta began, but Maxine held up a hand.

  “I don’t. Except that Sandy and I care about both of you.” She met Sandy’s gaze tenderly. “And someone once did the same for us when trouble came a’callin’.”

  They clasped hands for a moment, but then Maxine returned to her original topic. “So, post-polio syndrome. Explain.”

  When Henrietta remained stubbornly silent, Maxine said, “Henrietta, I wasn’t trying to pry. But the journals you copied articles from were left next to the copier. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

  “What is she talking about?” Meryn asked, now looking fully at Henrietta.

  “I’ve… I’ve been feeling strange recently.” Henrietta cursed Maxine for putting her in this position. “I fell a few weeks ago. And I’ve been weaker. I went to see Dr. McCourt. While you were away.”

  “That’s the appointment you had,” Meryn said. “What did he say?”

  “My blood work is all normal. There’s no other obvious explanation. He told me about this syndrome they’re starting to find in people, like me. People who had polio thirty to forty years ago.”

  “Is it coming back?” Meryn asked, reaching for Henrietta’s hand.

  Henrietta stared at their intertwined fingers. “Not… not like the first time. But apparently, there is some reactivation of the virus, and a new onset of weakness. There is no treatment. And no one knows how far it will go. Yet.”

  Meryn withdrew her hand. “Now I understand. You decided for both of us that we’re not going to be together.”

  Henrietta swallowed hard. “You shouldn’t be burdened—”

  “That is about the stupidest thing I have ever heard!” Meryn pushed to her feet and began pacing around the kitchen.

  Sandy turned to Maxine. “I think they’re talking now.”

  Maxine nodded. “Time for us to go.”

  She squeezed Henrietta’s shoulder while Sandy hugged Meryn. “We’ll call tomorrow.”

  They let themselves out.

  Meryn stood leaning against the kitchen counter, glaring at Henrietta. Henrietta felt her certainty falter.

  “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “I can’t believe you did this. To us.”

  “Why can’t you see—”

  “Oh, I see.” Meryn began pacing again. “I see that you think I’m too young and immature and inexperienced to understand what a relationship with you means. I see that you think you can make all the decisions for both of us. And I see that you think pushing me away is going to protect me. Right?”

  Her assessment was so accurate that Henrietta couldn’t think of any defense.

  “You know,” Meryn continued, “Sandy and Maxine told me, they said this was the time. If I was going to leave, if I couldn’t handle being with you—for better or worse—this was the time to go. When you were already pushing me in that direction. It would never be easier than it would be now, t
hey said.”

  She paused her pacing. “You know what I said?”

  Henrietta stared at her.

  “I said, don’t you think I’ve already thought about all of that. Don’t you think I’ve considered that age and health are going to be challenges for us. And don’t you think I already decided that none of that matters. That the only thing that matters, is that I’ve never been happier than I am—make that was. That I’m a better woman for loving you, for having your strength and determination as an example for me to try and be worthy of.”

  “Meryn—” Henrietta was humiliated to feel tears pricking her eyes.

  But Meryn wasn’t finished. “Henrietta, I don’t know how to convince you that my love is real. I couldn’t convince my mother, either. I know you all think I’ll just ‘get over this’ or something. Or maybe…”

  She stared hard at Henrietta. “Maybe my love isn’t what you want. Maybe it never was.” She drew herself up. “If so, then this is the time for you to tell me. If you don’t love me, just say so, and I’ll never bring it up again.”

  Henrietta couldn’t look away. Tears spilled over and ran unchecked down her face. “I can’t,” she whispered.

  “You can’t what?”

  “I can’t say that.”

  But Meryn was merciless. “You can’t say what?” she demanded.

  Henrietta swiped her fingers over her cheeks. “I can’t say I don’t love you. And I can’t say I don’t want your love. I do.”

  She put her hands over her face and sobbed.

  A moment later, she heard a chair scoot across the floor and felt Meryn’s warm hands on her wrists, gently tugging on them. When Henrietta opened her eyes, Meryn’s smiling face swam before her.

  Meryn leaned near, brushing her soft lips over Henrietta’s cheeks, her forehead, her lips. She knelt in front of Henrietta and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. Henrietta held on for dear life, her body still wracked by her tears.

  “God help me, I do love you,” she murmured.

  “God help us both,” Meryn said.

  Chapter 24

  Dappled shadows rippled over the rowboat as Ryn lazily rowed a large circle around the pond. Henrietta sat in the bow, trailing her fingers in the water.

 

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