Lady Blues

by Aaron Paul Lazar

  He glanced up at me. “Ja?”

  “Lily has no place to go.”

  “Ja, I know. Can she stay with us, Professor? Bitte?”

  I didn’t hesitate. Where else would the poor woman stay? “I don’t see why not. We can always make room. Let’s see what she says.” I leaned down, trying my hand at rudimentary sign language. “Lily, will you come with us?” I spoke slowly, pointing to her, then to Siegfried and me in a welcoming gesture.

  She hiccupped, gaping at the fire trucks whose streams of water sprayed her home. With one deep shudder, she buried her face in her hands and wept.

  My heart broke for her. I couldn’t imagine seeing my home going up in flames.

  Siegfried patted her shoulder, and after a while, she composed herself and glanced up at him, as if surprised she was still on his lap. With a start, she hopped up and leaned unsteadily on the brick wall. Sallow green flooded her cheeks, and I wondered if she was going to be sick.

  “Are you okay, Lily?” Siegfried reached for her.

  She waved him off and doubled over, holding her stomach.

  I turned away to give her privacy. Siegfried hovered over her, and when she was done, she let him guide her to the chair. He brushed back her hair and patted her forehead with a moistened paper towel, kindly given to him by the shop owner, who still lingered in the doorway with a glass of water in her hands.

  Lily accepted the glass with a grateful smile and took a few sips.

  I’d never seen her up close. Usually, I caught only a glimpse of her glossy black hair hanging across her face while she bent over her sewing machine in the back of the shop.

  As if curtains had been pulled back to allow streams of sunlight into a room, I noticed fine, porcelain skin smoothed over high cheekbones. Her dark almond eyes, fringed with thick lashes, took in the chaos where her home had stood an hour ago, apparently searching for some semblance of normalcy or explanation.

  I tried again.

  “Lily, will you come home with us? With Siegfried and me?”

  Her mouth, bow-shaped and pretty, trembled when she tried to smile. She looked into Siegfried’s eyes, took a deep breath, and glanced between us with a hesitant nod. “Lily come,” she said. “Lily come Seeg…feed.”

  ***

  Siegfried’s Jeep sat a block north on Main Street. After thanking the shop owner for her help, we headed for it with Lily hobbling between us.

  Officer Joe Russell’s patrol car swooped in our direction, lights flashing. I could already hear his words, knowing he wouldn’t approve of us risking our lives to play hero in a burning building.

  Gus, you don’t blindly run into a raging fire. You wait for the professionals. Are you nuts?

  He hailed us from his open window. “Gus? Siegfried. Hold on a minute.” At once, his gaze found Lily. “Whoa. Is she okay?”

  I motioned for Siegfried to continue on his way, and walked over to lean into Joe’s open window. “She seems okay, but her brother, Thom, was badly burned. She’s very upset.”

  He brushed one meaty hand along his short salt and pepper hair. “Damn shame.” He studied my face and arms. “You went in after them?”

  I nodded, glancing toward Siegfried. He and Lily had almost reached the Jeep. “Yeah. Siegfried spotted the smoke. Actually, I think he sensed it.”

  Joe was familiar with Siegfried’s intuitive talent. When Siegfried succumbed to a coma at age twelve after a boating accident, a new ability emerged. As the former math genius re-learned to walk, talk, and constantly struggled with academia, he surprised us with correct answers to complex questions, and frequently sensed trouble before it occurred. His old German accent had returned after that, stronger than ever. And he still sounded as if he’d just escaped from East Germany.

  “Good thing you guys were in the neighborhood. They’d have been toast.” Joe cast a glance down the street, shaking himself as if to clear the disturbing image. “So, where are you taking Thom’s sister?”

  “Her name’s Lily. We’re bringing her home with us for a while until we can figure out how to help her. Better than letting the county rent her a room at the Quality Inn. There’s no food nearby except Taco Bell and McDonalds.”

  He flashed a grim half-smile. “Hey, those are two of my favorite establishments.”

  I laughed. Before Joe had met me and become engaged to my wife’s mother, he regularly dined on fast food. Now that we were friends, he received one good meal every Sunday at my table.

  “Good idea,” he said. “She’ll need to know what’s happening with her brother. I’ve seen her working in the back of the shop, but I never heard her speak English. I wonder if she has friends who could help.”

  “I’m not sure.” I kept an eye on Siegfried, who opened the car door for Lily. “I don’t get the feeling she’s been out of the shop much, do you?”

  “Not really. Seems like her brother shielded her from…um...the outside world.”

  Siegfried started up the Jeep and headed toward us, threading through spectators surging in the street.

  “I’m going to give Dr. Gui a call to see if he can help with translating. He’s originally from Korea, chairman of the math department.” I motioned toward the sprawling college on the hill flanking the Genesee Valley. My job as chair of the music department came in handy at times like these, connecting me to a rich cultural pool of teachers and students.

  “Good idea, maybe he can find out if she has family around here.” He chuckled. “Well, at least she’ll eat well at your place.”

  I smiled. “Yeah.”

  The bulge over Joe’s belt testified to his healthy appetite. His recent engagement to my wife’s mother, Maddy, who also happened to be my secretary, bound him even tighter to my family.

  Siegfried pulled the Jeep behind the cruiser. “Ready, Professor?”

  “Be right there.” I said goodbye to Joe and headed for the car, but he called to me.

  “Gus, one more thing.”

  I stopped and turned. “Yeah?”

  He wiggled a finger at my arms. “Have Doc take a look at those burns.”

  I smiled and shrugged. “Maybe. See you tomorrow for dinner?”

  “The usual? Three o’clock?”

  “Right. See you then.” I climbed into the back of the Jeep. “Let’s get out of here,” I said, settling into the seat.

  “Ja. Let’s go home.” Siegfried pulled a U-turn and headed for the hills.

  Chapter Three

  On the way home, Lily slumped against the side window. Her eyes glazed over, and she seemed disconnected from her savior. Sig sat tall beside her, focused on the road ahead. I rested in the back seat, wishing I had some burn ointment. My skin was starting to throb, and I almost regretted not letting the EMTs take a look at me. Almost.

  Sig cornered around Main Street, taking several turns until we reached Goodland Road, which follows the undulating ridge separating Conesus Lake and the Genesee Valley.

  Gently rolling hills flashed past our windows like a patchwork quilt of dusty brown and rich emerald green. The car rose and fell along the curving road, and in the closest field, a flock of seagulls swooped behind a tractor plowing furrows in the fertile black earth. Moving as one entity, the gulls flurried up and down like a sheet in the breeze, seeking tender morsels unearthed by the tines.

  I grabbed my cell phone and called the hospital, letting them know we were taking Thom’s sister to our house, and asked for someone to call us about his condition. When I mentioned that Lily spoke little English, the nurse sounded concerned. She said she’d try to find a way around the HIPPA laws, but strongly recommended we bring Lily to the hospital the next morning.

  Frustrated, I thumbed off the phone and jammed it into my pocket. In ten minutes, we reached Hunts Corners and turned left onto Maple Beach, then left again on Sullivan Hill Road.

  Siegfried downshifted and snaked up the dirt road, climbing until we reached our gravel driveway, flanked by maple and beech trees. After bumping over the r
uts for a few minutes, we broke into open fields surrounding our 1811 Greek Revival farmhouse and barn. The rambling white house needed paint, new windows, and endless repairs. We worked on it as time and money allowed, but it was impossible to keep up.

  Lily didn’t budge when Siegfried parked between the carriage house and front porch. Her eyes had gone flat.

  Empathy flooded his face. He got out and opened her door, offering a massive hand. “Lily?” he whispered. “We are home. This is where we live.”

  As if in a trance, she meekly accepted his hand. Siegfried—who dwarfed the petite woman—guided her to the back porch.

  Inside the kitchen, we were met with chaos, in the form of my daughter, Freddie, and grandchildren Johnny, Celeste, and Marion. My wife, Camille, and stepdaughter, Shelby, sat at the kitchen table. Three dogs and two cats milled around underfoot.

  Because it was the weekend, Mrs. Adelaide Pierce—our beloved housekeeper—was in Syracuse, visiting her sister. I figured her first floor bedroom and bath off the kitchen would work well for Lily, until we made other arrangements.

  Siegfried had other ideas. He turned to me, his eyes glowing in rapt attention. “Professor?”

  “Yeah, buddy?”

  “I was thinking, Lily can use my room. I could sleep on the couch. That way I can help her if…” He glanced toward the converted carriage house, where his apartment filled the second floor. “If she needs me.”

  A tentative smile slid onto my lips. “Sure. That could work. But for now, I was thinking maybe she should get settled in here, so we can all help her. You could sleep on our couch, and still be close.”

  “Ja. I guess so.” He accepted my suggestion with a disappointed shrug, but his blue eyes still shone in her direction.

  A lump formed in my throat. I cared deeply about my loyal friend, and didn’t want him to get hurt. But there was no denying it, he seemed besotted.

  I loved the way his eyes followed her every movement, flooding with affection each time she spoke. He’d fallen for a few women in his life, including one beautiful nurse in Germany, when he’d been injured and chased all over Europe by neo-Nazis.

  Sadly, none of his infatuations had ever come to fruition. My friend would be turning forty-eight soon, and although he never complained, he deserved his own slice of happiness.

  We ushered Lily further into the noisy kitchen. Max, our mutt, chased Johnny around the room. The twins, Marion and Celeste, two-and-a-half now, sat opposite each other, banging pots with wooden spoons. Marion turned toward us with a grin, a yellow plastic strainer overturned on top of her dark curls.

  Camille, my recent bride, smiled in surprise from the table where she and Shelby frosted cupcakes. Shelby stared with open curiosity at Lily, then looked to me for introductions.

  I cleared my throat to get everyone’s attention. “Gang. This is Lily. Lily, this is my family.”

  Camille jumped up to greet her, curiosity sparking from her eyes. “Hi, Lily. I’ve seen you at your shop in town, haven’t I?”

  Lily froze, wide-eyed and confused.

  I put an arm around Camille’s waist. “Lily, this is my wife, Camille.” I introduced Shelby and Johnny, but the poor women seemed so tired and dazed I didn’t think she knew what was going on.

  When Siegfried brought Lily over to the twins, Camille pulled me aside. “What in the world happened to you guys? You’re covered in soot and… Oh, Gus. Your arms!”

  I quickly filled her in.

  “A fire?” Her fluid expression moved from shock to concern. She pushed back her hair and took a closer look at my arm. “This is bad. You need treatment.”

  “Later, sweetie. Let’s get Lily settled first. She’s had a rough morning.”

  “Well, don’t think you’re escaping some first aid soon, mister.” With a genuine smile, she approached our guest. “Come on, honey. Let’s go into Mrs. Pierce’s room. She has a nice bathtub and a big soft bed.” She ushered Lily toward the bedroom, calling over her shoulder to Shelby, who watched in silence. “Shelby? Can you grab some fresh sheets and pick out something comfy from your closet for Lily? Maybe some sweats and a robe?”

  The children and animals continued to race, bark, and yell, unaware of the drama occurring around them.

  Shelby reacted like lightning, dashing toward the stairs. “I’m on it, Mom. Back in a flash.”

  ***

  After a dinner of fish chowder and rolls, we went through our evening routine of children’s baths, story time, and bed. I put Neosporin on my arms and wrapped them in gauze, after Camille checked and decided the injuries weren’t as bad as she feared. In the meantime, we received a call from the hospital, and with Lily on the extension, I told them I’d try to “translate.” They relayed Thom’s condition, saying he’d been admitted to the burn unit with a complex prognosis. The doctor mentioned months of recuperation, skin grafts, and various difficult procedures. I tried to explain to Lily with pictures, but after a frustrating few minutes, I realized we’d definitely have to get help from a translator. She seemed to understand that Thom was in the hospital, but I wasn’t even sure of that. Unfortunately, Dr. Gui was out of the country.

  At eight-thirty the house grew quiet. Siegfried and Lily sat together at the kitchen table with mint tea and cupcakes. Siegfried had polished off only three of them, confirming my belief that he was infatuated, and his usual appetite was suppressed. She wore Shelby’s sweats and looked warm and comfortable. I smiled, watching them communicate with a combination of facial and hand expressions.

  Siegfried lifted the teapot, tilting it toward Lily. “More?”

  Her lips formed a demure smile and she pushed her teacup toward him.

  He refilled it and gazed at her with love surging in his eyes.

  I loaded the dishwasher, finished washing my stockpot, and wiped out the sink. “Sig?” I said.

  No answer.

  “Buddy?” I walked closer and laid my hand on his shoulder. “You in there?”

  He looked up. “Oh, hello, Professor.” He absentmindedly leaned down to pat his golden retriever’s ears. He and I had rescued the poor dog from a hunter’s trap several years earlier, and she had been his devoted friend ever since. Sheba leaned into his big hand, looking up at him with an expression that reminded me of Sig’s face when he gazed at Lily. The sweet dog thumped her tail on the linoleum. I wondered how she would react if Sig brought a woman into their living quarters in the old carriage house. Would she be jealous?

  I leaned over to give Sheba a pat, too. “Hey, I just wanted to say goodnight and be sure Lily has what she needs. I put out a new toothbrush and clean towels in the bathroom.”

  “Ja,” Siegfried said.

  Ja again? Not “Okay,” or “Thanks?” I laughed. Had he heard what I said? “Okay. Well, goodnight, then.” I waved to Lily, who smiled hesitantly and ducked her head.

  Siegfried still stared at her, mesmerized by her doe-like eyes. They seemed to fill his world.

  I wondered about him. When he watched my daughter Freddie and her fiancé Adam plan their wedding, or after Camille and I shared a spontaneous kiss, had he been aching for love, for family, for a home of his own?

  He never complained.

  Never.

  In spite of that, I suspected my friend might like to have more than us in his life.

  I turned off the lights in the great room, whistled to our two dogs, Max and Boris, and followed them upstairs. Sheba would sleep downstairs with Siegfried.

  Their toenails tapped with familiarity on the wide pine boards. Freddie whispered goodnight from a bed full of children, arms and legs spread in all directions. Johnny stretched across the bottom, clutching his stuffed blue Eeyore. The twins lay on either side of Freddie, one flopped face up and the other curled on her side. I mouthed the words good night, and continued down the hall.

  A light shone from the crack under Shelby’s door. I tapped on it and entered when she gave the all clear.

  “’Night, Shelby,” I said. />
  She sat back in bed, fingers tapping on her iPhone, eliciting beeps and chimes. I scanned the room with raised eyebrows. The floor, layered with clothing, dishes, papers, and books, had disappeared.

  “’Night, Dad. Sleep tight.”

  “You gonna clean up this mess soon?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Sure, Dad.” She didn’t look up.

  I shook my head, and she continued texting. Closing her door, I headed for our bedroom, finding Camille in the blue wing chair by the window. Legs slung casually over the arm, she slumped with her arms crossed, staring out the window into the night.

  “Honey? You okay?”

  “Not really.” She swung her bare feet down to the braided rug where her longhaired mini-dachshund, Boris, circled around, trying to find a comfortable spot. Absentmindedly, she reached to scratch behind his ears.

  I kicked off my shoes, walked to her side, and began to rub her shoulders. She leaned into my fingers. “What’s up, honey?” I said.

  She’d been unusually pensive during dinner, and even then I wondered what was on her mind. When I tucked a long dark curl behind her ear, she grabbed my hand and held it tight against her cheek.

  She almost choked on the words. “It’s Lily.”

  Surprised, I knelt beside her and tilted her face toward me, searching her eyes. “Lily?”

  “I helped her get ready for her bath. Gave her the clothes, towels, started the water for her.”

  “Okay.”

  She shuddered and lifted her eyes to mine. “I had to run upstairs for the shampoo, because Mrs. Pierce’s bottle was empty. When I came back down, I knocked, and thought I heard her answer. I pushed open the door a little and called her name. She was naked, just stepping into the tub. Of course, I immediately closed the door. But…”

  I relaxed, got up, and headed for the bathroom to grab my pajamas. “Is that all? Hey, I’m sure she understands. Besides, you’re both women.”

  She shook her head angrily. “No. That’s not it, Gus. It was what I saw on her back that upset me.”

  Surprised, I stopped mid-stride and backtracked. “What?”

  Her mouth trembled. “I saw scars and welts. Dozens of them. Crisscrossed all over her back. Some of them looked fresh.”