Pray for Us Sinners

by Marilyn L. R. Hall

  Walter nodded.

  “What did they do with Jack’s body? Have they buried him already? If they haven’t—can I have him so we can bury him like a Christian? Where is he? What did they do with him?”

  She was starting to get stirred up again and Walter didn’t know the answers to any of her questions. “Just calm down, Rose. I’ll have Leo call that detective who came out here to talk to you. Leo knows the man and he can get all the information and let us know right away.”

  “Can you do it now? Can you find out right now?”

  At that moment she looked up to see Claire Louise standing by the door with her hat and coat on and her purse in one hand and her valise in the other. “I’m ready to go now, Walter,” she said stiffly. “We can pick JC up on the way downstairs, and you can stop and ask Leo whatever Rose wants to know on our way out.”

  “You’re goin’ home?” Rose asked incredulously.

  “I told Walter I was.” She answered tersely.

  Rose didn’t say anything else, though her thoughts were flitting around like a cloud of gnats. Here was the answer to her prayers and seemingly without any ultimatums from her. How had it happened? Had Claire overheard her tell Walter to take her home? It really didn’t matter, she reasoned. Just the fact that she would be alone to carry out her plan was all that was important. Suddenly Rose felt as light as a feather. Everything was going to be fine. And she smiled at her sister who stared grimly back at her.

  “I’ve learned the hard way to mind my own business, Rose Sharon. If you need any help in the future, you’d best go to your friends, the Wesselmans or Mrs. Turner. I don’t think you and I will be crossing paths anymore. I must say I am not sorry that Jack Nash is gone for good out of your life. If it had not been for him, you and I would never have been alienated. I loved you so very much when you were a child … before you got yourself mixed up with the likes of him. May God forgive him. I just can’t.”

  Walter told her to hold her tongue, but she snorted and reached for the door knob. Rose stood staring at her back, feeling knives in her heart at the wickedness of her sister’s bitterness toward poor Jack even after he was dead.

  “Rose, I feel like this is wrong leaving you alone here. I wish you’d reconsider and let us take you home with us!” Claire Louise was already out in the hall but Walter didn’t really understand what had happened. “Please, Rose.”

  “Do you really think I’d go to Claire Louise’s house with her talkin’ like that about my Jack? Walter, I’d rather starve in the streets!” And Rose walked around the table to stand in front of him. “You have been a wonderful friend to me and Jack both, and I love you for it. And I love JC like he was my own. But I’d be dishonorin’ my husband if I went into that house after she wouldn’t even let him set foot in it. And what she just said shows me she wasn’t ever really sorry at all.”

  Then she hugged him and kissed him and he held her for a while, feeling like he’d lost the one true love of his life and his only chance at happiness. “Goodbye then, Rose Sharon. I won’t argue with you anymore. But I’ll be back tomorrow and we’ll do whatever we have to, to get Jack back so we can have a Christian burial the way you want. Whatever you want, Dearest.” And then he squeezed her tighter. “You don’t know how much I love you. I wish ….” But he didn’t tell her what he wished. He just took a deep breath and turned to the door, letting her hand slip slowly out of his along the way.

  Leo’s inquiry was made that very afternoon and it was learned that Jack Nash was still in the city morgue but would be released immediately to whatever funeral home Rose chose. Leo and Walter made all the arrangements the next morning and on the fourth day Father Paul held a prayer service for them at the mortuary and afterwards presided at the burial in a cemetery not far from St. Mary’s Church. Father Paul couldn’t give him a Catholic funeral, but he did manage a service that was Christian. He said some comforting prayers to lay him to rest and to soothe Rose Nash’s broken heart. The day was misty and gray, as it should have been, with a cold wind out of the northeast across the lake that grabbed Rose’s headscarf and almost tore it away. The misty rain turned to sleet even before they left the cemetery, and by the time they were safely back at Leo’s Grocery there were patches of ice on the sidewalk.

  Walter reluctantly returned to his own home at Rose’s insistence, and she and Cynthia went upstairs alone to her shadowy apartment after promising to call him if she needed anything at all.

  Apparently she had convinced all of them that she was ready to move on with her life. Even Leo, who had feared at first that she would kill herself or at least hasten a natural death by starving herself, seemed to think she was no longer in danger and was willing to trust her to go it alone.

  But there in the dusky chill of her rooms, Rose Sharon Nash began to carry out the plan she had pieced together so single-mindedly once the reality of a life without hope had sunk in.

  She found the second of those old yellowed suitcases she and Jack had packed with all their earthly belongings to carry to Chicago back in 1931. Jack had taken its twin with him when he moved out almost five years ago. Now as she caressed it absent-mindedly with her fingers, she wondered where that other suitcase was. Jack had probably burned it. He’s such a well-off man now … and Rose bit her lip … or was, anyway. He’d have been embarrassed to keep such an old worn out piece of trash. She struck it angrily with her fist. “You and me, Suitcase! Two old worn-out pieces a’ trash!” And she sank down to her knees on the floor beside the bed, overcome with tears of despair. She would have cried a lot longer but all of a sudden Cynthia Jackleen was standing beside her.

  “Mama? What’s wrong?”

  So Rose dried her eyes and smiled as best she could. “Nothin’ at all, Buttercup. I was just thinkin’ I’d let you go stay at Uncle Walter’s for a while. Wouldn’t that be fun?” She raised up to sit on the bed and lifted the little girl onto her lap, hugging her close to her chest. “Then you and JC can play together as much as you like!” After a while she leaned away a little—took her daughter’s precious little face between her hands and studied her intently. “Truth be told, you sure ain’t got much of your Daddy’s looks about you, nor mine neither. I guess you’re an original all right. But that’s good. That’s very good! That’s the very best thing to be, Cynthia Jackleen. Your own special self. Your very own special self!” Then she hugged her close again. “Though I always wished you’d be the image of your Daddy. Oh! He was such a handsome man. A beautiful man! Run get the picture, Sugar.”

  Reassured, Cynthia kissed her lips and jumped down off her lap. She took the wedding photograph off its nail by the bed where Rose had been keeping it since Jack moved out and brought it to her mother. With their heads together they looked at the handsome young couple and Rose, as she had a thousand times before, pressed her lips to her husband’s face and then waited until Cynthia had done the same.

  “You go play now, Sugar. I’ll be busy in here for a while.”

  While Cynthia played with her baby dolls in the living room, Rose packed all her clothes … there really weren’t many … neatly into the suitcase and then she carefully, lovingly, almost sacramentally lifted the oval framed picture that still lay on the table beside the bed and looked one last time at the image of her husband. “O Sweet Jesus! How pretty we were. How young … just a couple a’ babies. And how happy! So much in love we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”

  She couldn’t help smiling, but at the same time she couldn’t keep the tears from filling her eyes. She kissed his face tenderly one more time and then pressed the photograph to her heart letting the heat of the love she still felt for him warm her. Finally, she laid the picture, frame and all, on top of her daughter’s clothes in the suitcase. Kissing the tips of her fingers, she touched it one last time sending her spirit into it for eternity, and closed the lid of the suitcase.

  Then she went into the living room and from a drawer in the library table she removed a writing tablet, some env
elopes, and a pencil. In the kitchen again she sharpened the pencil to a fine point with a paring knife and then sat down at the table and started to write the first of three letters. One to Walter and Claire Louise, one to Leo and Viola, and a final one to Cynthia Jackleen, who was still playing house behind her in the living room.

  “Sweetie pie, you can go in the bedroom and play with your babies now. I’m finished in there.”

  “Margie is visiting with Gladys in the parlor, now, Mama.” Cynthia explained. But a little while later she disappeared into the bedroom where she kept her own little house in the corner with a bunch of cardboard boxes set up as pieces of furniture.

  Rose was well into her first letter and took no conscious notice of her going.

  “Dear Leo and Viola, my very dearest friends,

  This is the hardest thing I have ever done …” she wrote with her face screwed up with intense concentration “…saying good-bye to the two of you.”

  She stared awhile at that first line and then swallowed hard and continued.

  This thing I’m doing you would never approve, I know, and I myself don’t really approve of it. I just have to do it anyway because I’m dead inside already and the outside is just taking too long to die. You see, I know Jack is waiting for me somewhere, and this is the only way I can get to him. This letter is just so I can tell you how much I love you both. How much I appreciate all the wonderful things you’ve done for Cynthia and me and even for Jack when he still lived with me. You mean more to me than my own mama and papa. Truth be told, you are Mama and Papa to my spirit too. You took me to church and helped me learn about God and got my baby girl baptized and got my Jack buried proper. I know you’ll see to my burying too. At least I hope you will. I hope the Father isn’t too upset about it. It’s not how I wanted my life to be. It just happened and I can’t seem to fix it. I never seem to be able to get in control of my life. It just runs on by itself like a ball of yarn somebody dropped that just keeps rolling and unraveling and rolling and unraveling without any purpose or order. Now it’s just a big tangled mess and I ain’t got the heart to struggle with it anymore. A thought just came to me how much the letter like this Mr. and Mrs. Nash left for Jack and his sisters hurt them. I sure never thought I’d be writing that kind of letter. Please forgive me for hurting you. You’ve been so kind to me and I love you so. Please don’t stop loving me and please see Cynthia Jackleen gets to church every Sunday!

  Your friend and spiritual daughter, Rose Sharon Nash.

  Rose folded the letter and slipped it into one of the envelopes. Then she wrote Leo and Viola Wesselman on the front and placed it face down on the table in case somebody entered the room before she was ready.

  For a few minutes then, she listened to Cynthia sing to her baby dolls in the bedroom and she smiled contentedly. At least Cynthia didn’t miss Jack … would never miss him. But that was sad too. He could have been such a fine daddy. If only he had cared to be.

  Then she began to write a second letter.

  To Walter and Claire Louise,

  Please don’t be sad when you get this letter. I’m real sorry to hurt everybody like this, but I can’t see no other way out. I’ve done a lot of thinking and it looks like the only way Cynthia Jackleen will have a normal raising is if you two people do it for me. I’m not able to think of anything anymore but Jack Nash laying in my arms with his lifeblood seeping away and his scared eyes going dead on me. I can’t live another day with that going on in my head all the time. I’m giving Cynthia Jackleen to you, Walter and Claire Louise. I love her more than anybody alive and you all being family I think you’ll raise her the way I’d want her raised. I give her religious teaching to Leo and Viola because I want her reared in their Faith, which is my Faith now, but I give her to you as your own daughter in everything else. I know you love her as much as I do and Walter, I know you’re as fine a man as I ever knew and you will be the best Daddy my little girl could ever want. I’ve packed her clothes into the valise and I set it on this table and I’ve put in the wedding picture of her Daddy and me. I want her to have that. Please see she gets it when she’s old enough. Also if there’s any little trinkets or jewelry or whatnots of mine that she wants, please see she gets it. I ask that you tell her about me and about how much I love her. Remember all the good times to her and if you can think of nice things to tell about me please do that. Keep me in her mind in good ways if you can. And please try to say good words about Jack Nash to her. She needs to know what a fine man he was. How he worked so hard to give me nice things and how everybody loved him and how he could make you laugh no matter how bad things got and how handsome he was. Try not to let her know why he left us though. Maybe you could lie about that if you have to. I know I’m laying a heavy burden on you and I am really sorry about that. If I could think of any other way … I’d do it different. But I cannot. I guess I should say the whole truth. I think I’m starting to lose my mind, Walter. I do not want anyone to know that, but I guess I should be honest so you know the real reason I cannot raise my baby girl. Of late, I been seeing Jack Nash. He calls out to me and then there he is and when I go to touch him he is gone. I know everybody thinks this cannot be but it seems so real that I think I am no longer in my right mind. Please try to be understanding and please forgive me. I do not want anyone to be hurting like I am hurting so please don’t be sad. Walter, you always understood how I felt about Jack. Thank you for that. Please love and care for my little girl.

  Your loving sister, Rose Sharon Nash.

  Rose folded the second letter into its envelope and wrote Walter and Claire Louise Bradley on the face of it. She turned it over on top of the first envelope. As she took the last sheet of paper and made ready to write she noticed the pencil was dull, so she sharpened it again the same as before. When she had finished and was putting the knife away in the drawer, the door to the hallway opened and Leo peeked in.

  “Rose, are you all right?”

  She was taken by surprise and fear was in her eyes that he might see the letters and question her. “I’m okay,” she said, though not very convincingly.

  But Leo smiled with relief. “I don’t know why, but I just had a peculiar feeling like one of your omens or something. I can’t say exactly what I felt, but it was just a notion that something had happened to you. I don’t mind telling you, it scared me. Look here,” he said and stepped inside. “Look how my hands are shaking!”

  Rose nodded nervously, “My goodness, Leo. How awful for you.” Then to disguise her own trembling, she stood up and looked toward the sink. “Would you like a glass of water to settle your nerves?”

  “Oh no, Liebchen. I don’t want to disturb your writing. I just wanted to make certain you were okay.” Then he looked around the room. “But how is Cynthia?”

  Rose stood there with one knee on the chair and fiddled nervously with the pencil. “She’s playing with her dolls in the bedroom.”

  Leo smiled, “Oh yes, I can hear her singing now.” He seemed torn between staying and going. “You feel better now that the funeral is over, Rosy?”

  Rose closed her eyes and shrugged and then she felt herself swaying and her eyes popped open as she struggled to restore her balance. “I feel numb, Leo, like when your arm falls asleep at night sometimes and you can’t feel it anymore. Only it’s my whole body that feels like that. “

  Leo’s big square face melted like a marshmallow in a flame and the sadness conveyed in his expression almost destroyed Rose’s resolve. “Leo, dear Leo!” she crooned and her voice cracked on the verge of tears and then her eyes started streaming. “Please don’t hurt for me. I can barely stand my own tears.”

  “You want to talk about it, Rose Sharon? I can stay and listen as long as you need me.”

  “It’s too late to talk …. What I mean is it’s too late to talk today.” She was sure her nervous state would warn him of what she was planning and she strove desperately to reassure him of her well-being. “I was thinking I’d lay down for a while
and try to sleep. I thought I’d take a drink of that wine you gave me before.”

  “Did that help you sleep?”

  “Oh, yes. I slept like a baby,” she lied.

  “Well, all right, then. When you’re ready to go to bed, why don’t you send Cynthia downstairs for some candy? Viola and I will keep her occupied until it’s her bedtime or until you decide to wake up. Whichever comes first.”

  “Sure, Leo. That would solve all my problems. Thank you.”

  “Well, then,” he said and stepped out the door. “I’m so thankful you’re okay. It’s been a hard day, I know. But at least it’s behind you now and you can start to move on with your life. Is there anything you need, Rose? Anything I can get you?”

  “No. I cain’t think of anything. But Leo, you might look in on us later, I mean before you close the store. Around dark, maybe? It would be nice if you’d come by then.”

  Leo nodded and just as he was pulling the door shut, Rose darted around the table and ran to him. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Leo. I love you.”

  He was taken aback as he returned her embrace and kiss but not without giving her a curious once-over. “I love you too, Liebchen! Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? Or Viola, maybe?”

  She shook her head but she was not eager to let go of him. “I owe so much to you and Viola. You’ve been a papa and mama to me!”

  “Don’t be silly, Rose—you owe us nothing! You been a joy to us. You been the daughter we never had and you give us a granddaughter. Something we never dreamed God would bless us with. You don’t owe us nothing. You mustn’t think you owe us!” Then he seemed to remember something and hesitatingly, he held her at arm’s length and looked at her. “Rose, I didn’t know how to tell you this…or even if I should … but Viola and I … we both feel you’ve a right to know … now.” He paused and took a deep breath. “You remember when you first started working in the store right after Jack left? And I told you I didn’t think I could pay you enough and then right after that I give you more than double what we agreed on?”