A Song For Lisa

by Clifton La Bree

  Lisa checked Terry lying on the seat beside her. It had been a long day. She smiled at the way he could sleep so completely with every muscle in his tiny body relaxed. Jon didn’t say a word about Terry’s ancestry, and she was not sure how she should take that. One of the reasons she was so glad to see him was the chance to show Terry. His reaction to her son was important to her, yet, in that respect, the visit had yielded nothing! Jon’s apparent acceptance of Terry could have been a manifestation of his inherent decency and courtesy. Even if he had disapproved, he would not tell her so!

  Friday afternoon turned out to be warm and sunny. The campus was filled with students sitting under the trees on the well-maintained lawns. Lisa left the university in a good mood, looking forward to meeting Jon’s mother and daughter. Lisa and Terry entered the Portsmouth Navy Yard at about four in the afternoon with increasing anxieties and a tinge of paranoia that had become a permanent part of her psyche since Terry was born. Just how Jon’s mother and daughter would react held her in nervous anticipation.

  The duty nurse at the desk told Lisa that Jonathon had two visitors and was on the terrace overlooking the river. They were directed to the terrace where they found Jonathon propped up in a sitting position in his hospital bed. An elderly woman was bent over him. A young girl of about ten years was watching the boats travel the river.

  Jonathon looked much more alert than he had been on her previous visit. He recognized Lisa and Terry from the corner of his eye as soon as they walked through the large French doors. “Ah, here comes an old friend, Ma.”

  Lisa was relieved that he had much better color today. “Hello, Colonel,” She greeted him warmly.

  The woman turned to Lisa. “Ma, I want you to meet Miss Lisa Carter and her son, Terry. Lisa, this is my mother, Lillian Wright, and the young lady hanging on the balcony is my daughter, Faith.”

  Mrs. Wright extended a hand to Lisa. “It’s nice to meet you, Lisa. My son was just telling me that you stopped by this week. I was hoping I’d have a chance to meet you. We just came down from Monson, Maine. It’s about a four-hour drive. It’s nice that you come to visit Jon.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Wright,” Lisa replied, grasping her hand with both of hers. The naturalness of their meeting allowed Lisa to breathe easier.

  “Come here, Faith,” Mrs. Wright motioned to her granddaughter. “Say hello to Miss Carter and little Terry.”

  Faith was an active child with dark brown hair and inquisitive brown eyes. She smiled and seemed happy to meet Lisa. At first she looked at Lisa and then at Terry with a curiosity she did not try to hide. There was no animosity or shock, only inquisitiveness. Lisa liked her the minute she saw her. There was a modest, almost shy, demeanor about her that was cute and becoming. “I’m glad to meet you, Faith.”

  “I remember you,” she remarked, filled with excitement. “Daddy and I went to the Boston Pops one day and you were playing the piano. You were wonderful. Daddy told me that he knew you. I’m taking lessons on the piano.”

  “Why thank you, Faith. I’m glad you liked it. Music has been an important part of my life. Continue with your lessons; music has a way of enriching our lives. I hope Terry is attracted to it, but he’s a little young now. Your daddy has told me about you.”

  “I like music but I couldn’t carry a tune in a wheelbarrow,” Jonathon smiled.

  “You take after your father, Jon,” added Mrs. Wright. “I’ve been worried about you. When he’s overseas I’m afraid to answer the phone or open mail from the department of the army for fear that it’s bad news.”

  “Ma,” protested Jonathon. “I would have gone crazy if I did not have the Army to occupy my time. I love the Army and am proud to be a part of it. I know it has been rough on you and Faith, like it was on Hope. I’ll be happy when I can get out of this bed to start my new post at the university.”

  “I just started a new job at the university,” Lisa mentioned. “So far, I like it fine. It gives me a chance to work with the new symphony orchestra being organized. That’s been exciting. It’ll be nice having you on campus, Jon.”

  “What about the Boston Pops?” he asked.

  “I was hesitant to give up my position there, but I could not continue traveling back and forth. It was a wonderful experience and, occasionally, I'll go back for special performances.”

  “How long will it be before they fit you with your new arm?” asked Mrs. Wright, turning to Jonathon.

  “They’re working on it now, Ma. I hope to start work before the end of second semester. My arm probably won’t be ready by then but that won’t prevent me from functioning in the classroom.”

  They were interrupted by an orderly delivering Jon’s supper. Mrs. Wright suggested that while he was eating, the four of them could get something to eat at the hospital cafeteria. Jon had requested that because he did not want them to see him being spoon fed like a baby.

  Before she left for the cafeteria, Lisa placed an envelope on his food tray. He was surprised and looked into her eyes.

  Lisa explained in a low voice. “This is an answer to the letter you brought me. I’d like to share it with you. I don’t know the man’s name or address. Would you see that he gets it?”

  “You know I will,” Jon assured her. “Are you sure you want me to read it?”

  “It’s important that I share it with you,” she answered with a wry smile. Lisa patted the cast on his right arm and left to catch up with Mrs. Wright waiting at the door.

  Jon had the orderly open the letter for him before touching his supper.

  An answer from,

  To Whom It May Concern;

  Colonel Wright gave me the letter you wrote. He has proven to be a good friend. I do not know your name and he did not offer it. My immediate reaction to the letter is relief that the suffering and agony caused by your son has been partially mitigated. I thought that I was alone in my despair and anger.

  No one can undo what has been done. It was an experience that is impossible to forget, but I can assure you that I have tried to not let the incident destroy my life. The truth is, I cannot ever forgive your son, and you should know that I in no way whatsoever, hold you responsible. Your son made the choice and paid the consequences. I understand and welcome your compassion, but it is unfair for a father to be blamed for the deeds of an offspring.

  I have news that may surprise you. Your son impregnated me. Nine months later, I gave birth to a baby boy. He’s now five and a half years old and has started the first grade. He’s alert and intelligent and I love him dearly. His Japanese ancestry is evident. I can share with you the fact that I agonized over the decision to have an abortion. After carefully examining the alternatives, and the accompanying ramifications, I decided to have the baby and have not regretted the decision.

  Across the miles I say thank you for the kindness of writing. Sharing your feelings with me has helped more than you’ll ever know. Again, thank you.

  Sincerely, Madame X

  Chapter Seventeen

  Later that evening, Lisa invited Mrs. Wright and Faith to return to Durham with her and Terry, to stay for the night. Lisa promised to bring them back to Portsmouth first thing in the morning. She had planned to take Terry to the Nubble Lighthouse in York, Maine, and it was on her way. Lisa was pleased that her offer was accepted.

  Jonathon’s mother looked tired. Terry was traditionally in bed by eight o’clock. As soon as they got to the apartment Lisa put him to bed even though it was earlier than usual. Within seconds he was sound asleep. Faith had solicited a promise from Lisa to play the piano before bedtime. Lisa closed Terry’s bedroom door and walked to the piano in the living room.

  “Do you have any favorites?” Lisa asked.

  Faith was excited. “Oh, I love Canadian Sunset, Mona Lisa, Bali Ha’i, and Some Enchanted Evening.”

  “Those are good ones, Faith,” Lisa said, turning on the bench. She played softly so as to not wake Terry, even though it was her style to not hammer the keys.
No matter what songs she played there was a soothing quality to her technique. It was impossible to listen to Lisa’s playing and not get caught up in the feelings the music portrayed. She did long medleys of the ones Faith mentioned and several of her favorite ballads, such as Bouquet of Roses, as sung by a popular country artist, Eddy Arnold. “I like his style of singing and the way he seems to feel the songs he selects. Some of the country music is beautiful in its plaintive, simple style.”

  “You like most kinds of music then,” surmised Mrs. Wright, sitting comfortably on the couch.

  “Oh yes, there’s beauty in all forms of music. A person’s taste may favor one style over another but the universality of music is that all of it has the ability to touch our hearts.” Lisa turned her back to the piano. “My guest room is always available to you, anytime you come to visit Jonathon. What do you say if I fix us a cup of hot cocoa. I find it relaxing before bedtime.”

  “That would be nice, Lisa.” Mrs. Wright smiled in agreement. “I didn’t expect to be so tired. I’ve been worried sick about Jon. I’m so glad that he has a friend close by. He needs friends even though he doesn’t know it.”

  “Come on into the kitchen while I put some water on to heat.” Lisa motioned them to the small table beside a window looking out on the porch.

  “Kitchens seem to be the place where everyone is the most comfortable,” Mrs. Wright said, noting the orderliness of the room. “You do a great job of keeping things neat and clean, Lisa.”

  “Our kitchen at home was the favorite room, too,” Lisa replied. “I suppose it stems from the tradition of breaking bread in fellowship.”

  Lisa warmed several cinnamon rolls and served them with the cocoa. The three gathered around the table and became better acquainted with each other. Mrs. Wright was especially impressed with Lisa’s casual graciousness. She had a gift of being herself without pretense. Shortly after drinking her cocoa and eating one of the delicious buns, Faith volunteered to go to bed. The guest room had twin beds. Lisa showed them the bathroom and where she stored the towels and linen. Lisa and Mrs. Wright returned to the kitchen for a second cup of cocoa.

  “Please feel free to retire whenever you want, Mrs. Wright. Traveling and visiting can be exhausting. I saw Jon a week ago. He was much improved today, his color was natural and he seemed to be more responsive. You and Faith seemed to buoy his spirits. I thought that he was very positive about his new assignment at the university.”

  Jonathon’s mother sighed. Lisa saw despair on her face and was concerned. “Jonathon has been a lost soul since the death of Hope. A part of him died with her. I still worry about him. I know that he was drinking heavily for a while. That was out of character for him. He rarely drank except socially. It wasn’t the alcohol so much as it was his attitude. He just didn’t seem to care about anything. I hope you don’t mind me sharing these things with you,” said Mrs. Wright.

  Lisa held her hands. “Of course not, Mrs. Wright. I don’t know Jon that well, but I can tell you that he’s a son you have every right to be proud of. I’ll always be his friend. He saved my life and the lives of my friends and companions from a ghastly death in the prison camp. If there is anything I can do to repay that debt, I will do it with pleasure.”

  “He doesn’t talk much about his war experiences. I didn’t even know about his Medal of Honor until one of his friends told me. Faith has been most anxious to see him. I warned her about his arm. She’s a very mature child for her age, but she’s worried that she’s losing him. He hasn’t been forthcoming in his responsibility to Faith, and that still worries me,” Mrs. Wright confided in Lisa.

  “Jon told me that the move to New Hampshire will give him a chance to be a father to Faith,” Lisa shared her conversation. “I felt that he was sincere and was anxiously looking forward to it. She’s lucky to have you, Mrs. Wright. Losing a mother at such a young age must be horrifying. I can’t imagine what she must be going through.”

  “Sometimes she withdraws into her music. She’s been taking lessons for five years and is doing quite well. I haven’t known how to handle her, because she has picked up on the fact that her father doesn’t want to care for her,” continued Mrs. Wright, relieved to be able to talk about personal feelings with Lisa. “I can’t say that it’s rejection. I believe that Faith reminds Jon of the fact that Hope is gone, and I don’t know how to explain that to her. She idolizes her father. You’re a very kind person, Lisa. The minute you came onto the terrace today, Jon perked up. It was instantly noticeable. I thank you for that.”

  “When will you be going back to Maine?”

  “I had planned to return home Saturday evening,” replied Mrs. Wright.

  “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

  “I appreciate your offer. I’m so glad Faith and I were able to meet you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to turn in. It’s been a long day. You’ve been a most gracious host Lisa, goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Mrs. Wright, rest well.” Lisa showed her the bathroom and bedroom light switches and returned to the kitchen to clean up the table.

  Unable to sleep, Lisa walked out onto the porch to sit quietly in the cool September air. The moon sat squarely on top of the crown of a large sugar maple tree on the lawn. Fall is her favorite time of year. The death of summer evokes a melancholic response. She thought of snow-capped peaks and whispering canyons and memories of her childhood in the majesty of the White Mountains. On evenings like this, when the earth was embraced in the solitude of the night, the silence could be overpowering.

  “Solitude of the night,” she whispered softly, staring into the dark voids of the sky. At times like this she felt alone, insignificant, and unfulfilled. Memories of Jeff were never far from her mind. His swift rejection of her at the end of the war still hurt, because it was based on his hatred of Terry and all that he represented. She struggled with his denial of support when she needed it the most. If he had truly loved her, as he had proclaimed, then he could have adjusted somehow to Terry’s right to live.

  Jeff had telephoned Lisa a couple of years after the war to tell her that he was moving to California and was engaged to marry. He never mentioned one word about Terry or asked how she was doing. She had sarcastically wished him well, and true to her disposition, suffered his insensitivity in silence and lived with the hurt. She had placed all of her hopes and dreams for the future in Jeff, and he had gone his separate way without a word or thought of the turmoil it created for her. She had cried for hours.

  The first two or three years after Terry was born were difficult. She worked hard to maintain a normal home environment for Terry and herself. Being a single parent in puritanical New Hampshire was not the easiest thing to do, but she did it by holding her head high and never answering the gossip mongers that live in every small town. There had been a few men who expressed interest in her, one was a trombone player in the Boston Pops Orchestra. She liked him and they dated a few times. As soon as he discovered that she had a child, he fell all over himself trying to get away. She never told him how she got pregnant. They haven’t spoken a word since.

  Lisa was thirty-one years old and had resolved herself to the fact that having a son would turn most any normal suitor away. It made her love and protect Terry more than ever.

  The next morning, Lisa insisted on preparing pancakes for everyone. They ate together around the kitchen table. Lisa felt good about that, it made her apartment seem more like a home. When they were finished, Faith asked Lisa to play two of her favorite songs, Mona Lisa and Bali Ha’i. Lisa sat at the piano and played the two songs. Faith watched every movement of her hands.

  When she was finished, Lisa asked Faith a question. “This old piano was here in the apartment when I moved in. A couple of the keys are off. Can you tell me which ones?”

  Faith smiled at the question and sat on the stool Lisa vacated, running through the scale. “I could be wrong, but I think G and B are flat,” she answered.

  “That’s correct,
Faith,” exclaimed Lisa. “You’ve developed a fine ear for such a young pupil. Your grandmother and father should be proud of you.”

  “We certainly are, Lisa,” admitted Mrs. Wright. “You have a unique style on the keyboard that is most pleasing to the ear. I played for years but arthritis curtailed my playing long ago.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Lisa said. “Your son will be expecting you. I’m ready to leave if you are.”

  “Thank you for making this trip so much easier for me,” Mrs. Wright told her. “Your hospitality and friendship is really appreciated.”

  Jonathon awoke from a restful night’s sleep and began his morning walking exercises. The heavy and awkward cast made it more difficult, but he was determined to maintain the muscular integrity of his legs. He walked through the ward out toward the terrace where he could watch the river. He could also see the parking lot for the hospital below and checked to see if his mother’s Nash was still in the lot. On his last trip around the circuitous route he saw Lisa stop her Studebaker next to the Nash. Faith stepped out of the back seat taking two small suitcases from the trunk and placing them in her grandmother’s car. Jon smiled. His daughter was growing up. He watched them talk for a while, then, Mrs. Wright embraced Terry and Lisa. Faith kissed Terry on the cheek and warmly embraced Lisa for a long time. He sighed thinking that Hope’s death must have been as traumatic for Faith as it was for him. She deserved better from her father! Jon was disappointed when he saw Lisa’s car leave the parking lot. He waved to Faith and his mother.

  Lisa and Terry visited the York Beaches and sat on a rock at the Nubble Lighthouse, watching the restless sea smash relentlessly on the granite shore. They watched coast guard members pull themselves across the water that separated the lighthouse from the mainland. A strong cable was suspended between two poles. The men rode in a wooden box with a pulley that rolled along the cable overhead. Gravity pulled them over the roiling water to the landing on the lighthouse island.