Mr. Engelmann nodded. “Transubstantiation is a miracle that occurs at the consecration of every mass. And, yes, I agree, there is a special closeness in receiving the Lord at communion. Anyway, it is good she is showing an interest in the faith, especially if you two are contemplating marriage.”
“Yeah, she believes in a strong family and that there should be no divisions in the marriage or in the parenting of children.”
“She is very wise, Henry.”
The sun had travelled further to the west and was beginning to hide behind Mr. Falhman’s large elm tree. The growing coolness brought with it a sadness that pricked Henry’s skin. The time to go was drawing near, but Henry sensed that neither of them wanted to leave.
Henry looked at his teacher. Silent tears were streaming from his closed eyes; the sun glistening off the wet trails on his cheeks. How many times in the past had the sun dried the tears from their faces?
He is such a wise and holy man, so close to Jesus. What he said about Anna applies to him, too, he also wears Jesus on his skin. ‘Angel man’ is so fitting; he has the very same traits of the angels he describes.
His beloved mentor must be feeling so much, Henry thought. Leaving the store, his home; thoughts of Anna and the many talks he and Henry had shared now slipping into the past and becoming mere memory. Clearing out of the rest of his stuff this morning must have been hard on him.
Mr. Engelmann put his hands on either side of himself as if readying to push himself up. And as Henry thought of all the talks and laughter and good times and sorrowful times they had had together out here in the classroom of life, he lowered his own and place one on top of Mr. Engelmann’s. A surge of love passed through them and Henry lifted his head to the sky, closed his eyes and wept along with his teacher.
The last sliver of light from the sun slipped down, completely hidden now behind the neighbour’s elm tree.
Darkness had suddenly fallen. Both men opened their eyes with a start, looked at one another and smiled.
“I was just contemplating, Henry, how the Lord in His infinite wisdom made us so we grow into loving people and know our ultimate goal, where true happiness lies. Without sorrow, we would never appreciate or understand joy. If we never had problems and trials, we would never grow in character. If we never walked in darkness we would never taste the happiness of the light. If we never experienced hatred, we would not fully understand forgiveness and love. And even the most beautiful times in the world—times like this that come close to what heaven must be like—even these times, too, must come to an end so as to motivate us all the more to want to be with Him, to have everlasting joy.”
Mr. Engelmann slipped his hand from under Henry’s, then patted Henry’s hand and squeezed it. “Ich liebe dich. I love you as my own son, Henry.”
“And you’ll always be a second father to me. I love you, Mr. Engelmann.” Henry’s voice cracked on the words.
Mr. Engelmann pushed himself up off the crate. Henry did the same and was surprised Mr. Engelmann didn’t complain about aches and pains from sitting so long. Ever since he announced he was entering the priesthood, he had become more youthful, energized by the new life he would lead serving the Master.
Henry hugged his mentor. A moment or two later, Mr. Engelmann broke from the warm embrace and, arm still around Henry’s shoulders, walked with him to the back door.
“We shall have more such talks, Henry. This is not the end. You will come to me in confession and visit me in the rectory and we shall continue our friendship. I suspect you will become my mentor someday soon!”
“I don’t think that’ll ever happen, Mr. Engelmann.”
“In any case, I am happy that you are closer to your father and talking more with him. I encourage you to do a lot of that. There is so much joy in a father and son sharing as we have done."
With one last look at the old weathered grey crate, their “classroom,” they stepped inside. Henry picked up Mr. Engelmann’s suitcase from behind the counter. It was light, as if there was nothing in it. Henry smiled. His teacher needed no moving van to carry his worldly possessions. Most everything of value he had accumulated over the years he held in his heart.
Henry opened the front door. Mr. Engelmann followed, at the last moment turning back to flip the sign on the door over. closed, it said.
Henry set Mr. Engelmann’s suitcase on the passenger side of the back seat then opened the front door for Mr. Engelmann.
“Thank you, Henry,” he said, getting in.
Henry drove a block down Victoria Avenue then made a u-turn and headed back the way they’d come. As they passed, their eyes were drawn to the store on the corner.
Engelmann’s Grocery Store & Confectionery
To a passerby it might look like any other corner store. Yet those who knew it knew what a service of love and friendship the store had provided to the people of the neighbourhood. Gary was right when he’d said the store was more like a church. Mr. Engelmann and Henry waved goodbye as they sped by.
Five minutes later, Henry pulled up in front of St. Mary’s Rectory. They stared at the entrance to Mr. Engelmann’s new, temporary home. The lawn was well manicured. The concrete walkway led up to a dark oak door. The façade of the rectory was brown brick and blended well with the main part of the church. Such a dichotomy in residences—a grocery store to a church. And yet, would it really be such a difference?
Henry stepped out of the car and walked around to Mr. Engelmann’s side, intending to open the door for him. But before he reached the passenger side, Mr. Engelmann opened the door and got out. Mr. Engelmann didn’t want to be served anymore. He was there to serve.
“Well, Henry,” he said, looking towards the rectory, “if I have to move, what better place to have as a new home than the Lord’s house?”
“What a great thought, Mr. Engelmann.”
At that moment, Father Connelly opened the door to the rectory and came out. He waved. “Welcome, David.”
Mr. Engelmann smiled. “Hello, Father.”
Father Connelly came to the car, shook hands with Mr. Engelmann, then turned to Henry. “Hello, Henry. Come. Bring David’s suitcase. Is there anything else?”
“Nope, this is it,” Henry replied.
“Good. Come in, then. We will have a feast tonight, David. I asked our cook, Millie, to make the best German dish she knows.”
“Ah, thank you, Father.”
Father Connelly turned to Henry, “And you too, Henry.”
“Oh, no thank you, Father. I’m meeting my girlfriend. We’re going to a movie later, and we’re off to Saskatoon in the morning to look for a place to stay. I still have to get ready.”
“Well, please come and visit. This is a home just like yours, Henry. We’re ordinary people just like your family, so please feel free to come, anytime.”
“Thank you, Father.” Henry turned to Mr. Engelmann. “Well. I’ll see you, Mr. Engelmann.”
“Goodbye, Henry.”
Henry made his way halfway down the walk and turned.
Silhouetted in the doorway, Mr. Engelmann raised a hand in farewell.
Memories of his first day of school came to Henry’s mind. He’d been so frightened and had not wanted to leave his mother’s side and the safe world he had known until then. He wondered if Mr. Engelmann was feeling the same way now.
As he opened the driver’s door, Henry looked up to see Father Connelly close the rectory door, severing the last tie Mr. Engelmann had to his old world and marking the start of his new journey.
Chapter Forty-Three
Please send an ambulance to Montgomery Plaza, corner of Lyon and Sparks! Eighteenth floor. I just found my employer on the floor of his office. He may have had a heart attack. Please hurry!”
Elaine acknowledged the operator’s promise to contact the hospital immediately then hung up the phone and ran
back into Mr. Sarsky’s office.
When Ted hadn’t answered her knock, she’d entered the office to find him lying on the floor next to the liquor cabinet, the odour of liquor assaulting her as she’d bent to check his pulse. She’d picked the glass up off the floor and set it on the corner of his desk, then ran to the phone to call for help.
With the assurance that an ambulance would soon be on its way, Elaine rolled Ted on his back and loosened his tie. After a few moments, he began to moan and stir. She stood and going to the liquor cabinet, she screwed the cap back on the bottle of whiskey on the counter, then pushed it to the back of the cabinet and closed both doors. She thought about giving him some gum or a candy to mitigate the smell of alcohol on his breath, but thought he might choke and decided to leave it.
He moaned some more and Elaine knelt beside him again.
He blinked. “W-what happened?” Ted asked, looking up at her, confused, holding a hand to his head.
“You passed out, Mr. Sarsky. I thought you might have had a heart attack. I’ve called for an ambulance. They should be here any minute.”
“Oh, Elaine, you di’n’t really, didja?”
Elaine stared at him. He was actually going to be upset with her now? She couldn’t find her voice so she nodded instead.
“Call ’em back ri’ away and cancel it! I’m fine. Jus’ overworked. I’ll take a few days off.”
Elaine had just put her hand on the phone when it rang.
“Mackurcher and Company, Elaine speaking. How may I help you? Oh, yes, just a moment, please.” She covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “It’s the front desk, Mr. Sarsky. The ambulance attendants are in the lobby and the commissionaire wants to know if it’s okay to send them up?”
“No, no, tell ’em it was a false alarm or somethin’. Just cancel the whole thing. Please.”
“Hello? Yes, I’ve checked and everything seems to be fine here. Apparently, there’s been some mistake. Everything is fine. Please extend our apologies to the attendants … Yes, everything’s fine, thank you.”
Elaine hung up then turned back to Mr. Sarsky. Ted stared back at her. His pallor frightened her. It was like all the life had drained out of him. She watched him make a huge effort to regain his composure.
“Thank you, Elaine. I appreciate your concern,” he finally said, propping himself up on his elbows, then rising to his feet. His diction had improved. “I, uh, I think I will take that time off and get some rest. I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately.”
Elaine stared at him, not knowing what to say. He was an alcoholic and needed help, but it wasn’t her place to suggest anything to him or even dare talk to him about it unless he brought it up, according to the brochure on alcoholism she’d picked up at the doctor’s office last year.
She’d just been rereading it the other day after she’d come across it in the drawer where she kept new typewriter ribbons. It was amazing that Mr. Sarsky had held out all these months. No, years. He’d been showing symptoms of the advanced stages of the disease for so long now. Ted needed help desperately, but until he finally admitted he had a serious problem and was ready to do something about it, she could only be supportive.
“That will be all, Elaine,” he said as she stood there, frozen.
“Yes, o-of course, Mr. Sarsky. If there’s anything you need…?”
“No, I’m fine, really, thank you again for your concern.”
It was only as she closed the office door behind her that she realized her blouse was soaking wet. It took her a full ten minutes to regain her own composure and refocus on the report she was preparing for the next board meeting.
Mr. Sarsky really needed help. Should she call one of the board members? One of the other executives? She was split in two; her loyalty at war between her president and the company, her employer. Everyone was depending on Mr. Sarsky to pull the business out of the proverbial muck, and if business did not improve soon, everyone’s job would be in jeopardy.
Indecision weighing heavily upon her, she began to type, hitting letters that formed no words. She was so flustered she typed for at least a minute before realizing nothing made any sense—not on the paper in front of her and certainly not in the whole bizarre situation she found herself in. Here she was on the eighteenth floor of a huge corporation, occupying the office that was the heart and core of the company, but lacking any leadership or guidance. Suddenly Elaine realized just how easy it might be to start drinking to relax, to get away from it all.
It’s a good thing I have an addiction to the Lord instead.
Ted stood in front of the open liquor cabinet searching for the bottle of whiskey he’d started. He finally found it hidden at the back of the cabinet. As he set the bottle before him, the world spun around and he grabbed the side of the cabinet until the black spots before him settled. Then he took the cap off the bottle and poured himself a tall premium whisky, which he drank in one gulp. He relaxed the moment the alcohol hit his bloodstream. He put the glass and the bottle back into the cabinet and closed the door. Good thing it was just Elaine.
Straightening his suit jacket, he walked over to the window that overlooked the park below. He’d always loved to watch the arrival of spring and then summer. The view of the canal and park were beautiful. So much new life, the trees so green and the flowers in full bloom. All signs of new beginnings and yet inside it felt as if he were dying. He was no longer the man he’d been. The Ted Sarsky who stood for honesty, reliability, high standards and impeccable character was dead.
He had let the board, his colleagues and the hundreds of employees who relied on his leadership, down, but most of all he’d let his daughter down. She had trusted him implicitly with her heart and soul and he’d reneged on that trust. He was miserable. An indescribable self-disappointment was lodged in the core of his being and ached unmercifully.
How had he allowed this to happen?
The scenic view before him offered little relief. It did make him think, however, of his estate and how beautiful the grounds there were too, and yet he never took the time to enjoy the place like Jenny did. He was glad they had given refuge to Tammy and her baby. He guessed he could take some credit for that.
It reminded him of the early years of his marriage when Jenny was born and he’d spent more time with her, as a father should with his daughter. Then he got busy at work. Too busy. But Tammy’s baby took Ted back to those early days of raising Jenny. If only he’d realized then the importance of his role as a father. But it was too late now, all in the past.
And what about Jenny’s baby, Camilla? If Jenny had kept her, he would be a grandpa. With Chloe in the house, Ted sometimes imagined her as Jenny’s little girl, thinking of what it would have been like to come home to another little member of the family.
But that chance to give his whole family a new start had passed them by, the opportunity whisked away with one poor decision after another.
Ted no longer dared even look at the landscape painting hanging on his office wall. He had pulled off the towel he’d hidden it under previously; it hadn’t kept the angels locked away in their letters where they should be, hadn’t kept them confined to the wall safe behind the painting at all. For months now, the angels were always out, streaking across the sky or sitting on the clouds in the painting, reminding him of his wrongdoings. He thought of getting another painting, but then the angels would probably just come out on that one, too. Ted kept most of the company’s important papers in his desk drawer now rather than in the safe; he was afraid to go near it. He couldn’t help but feel he was being submitted to some sort of torture.
The punishment was unbearable. Oh, if only he had confessed it all before things had gotten so out of hand. How many times had he gone over the scene in his mind? He’d take Jenny by the hand and they would stroll to her beloved gazebo on the estate and have a heart-to-heart, bringing everything out into the open. He ha
d rehearsed it over and over so many times, he had his speech completely memorized.
He wondered if he should go home early today. He still felt woozy from the fainting spell. It was a beautiful day and Jenny and her friend and the baby would probably be out enjoying the sun and flowers. Yes, perhaps this just might be the day he and Jenny would take a stroll to the gazebo and have a little talk.
When Ted came home, Edith was outside on the patio drinking a glass of lemonade.
“Oh, Ted! You startled me. What are you doing home so early?”
“I wasn’t feeling well and thought I’d come home and enjoy the afternoon with my family. Where’s Jen?”
“James wanted her to go downtown to do some shopping. She shouldn’t be too much longer; they left first thing this morning.”
“Are Tammy and the baby up?”
“The baby is sleeping. However, Mrs. Anderson is over; she and Tammy are having a talk on the west side of the grounds. I think they might be working things out and Tammy will be going home.”
Ted looked across the expanse of lawn and saw Tammy and her mother sitting on a bench near the new wildflower garden.
“Well, I think I’ll change into something more casual and come out and join you. I’d like to spend some time with the girls today.”
Edith gazed at her husband, not sure what to think. He looked so tired. She was glad he’d come home; he certainly could use some rest.
Nightmares often kept him awake half the night.
“So, which suit looks best on me, the charcoal grey or the navy blue?”
“They both look good on you, James. You’re such a handsome devil.” Jenny winked and then decided. “I think the grey gives you more of that executive look and it goes so well with your black hair…yes, definitely the grey one.”
Turning to the salesman, James asked, “How long has this suit been on the rack?”
“Oh, a week or so. I’m not sure.”
“Have many people have tried it on?”
Another Angel of Love Page 38