Secret Passages

by R D Hathaway

  Matthias laughed. “It’s clear that someone from Iowa is an oddity here. Anyway, he later introduced me to an elderly gentleman who warmly shook my hand.”

  Matthias held up his hand and looked at it with some concern. When his gaze drifted up to Priscilla’s eyes, he became serious. “The old man greeted me as though he was expecting me. Then, he said, and I’m certain this is what he said, he told me that it was unfortunate my work will not be completed, but all will be well.”

  Priscilla’s hand stopped as she raised her fork to her mouth. It slowly lowered to the table. “What did he mean?”

  “I’m not sure. He didn’t say it in a threatening way. He was quite friendly, almost happy to see me.”

  Matthias paused as though uncertain of what to say next. “All will be well,” he added.

  “If all will be well, then we should be grateful.”

  Thoughtful attention to the story ran through his mind.

  “Have you traveled elsewhere, Matthias?”

  “Just a little. I’ve been to a few conferences; to Chicago, Kansas City, and to Minneapolis. But they are only a couple of days from Des Moines; quicker if you can go by train. My trip here was fascinating because I got to go beyond Chicago to Philadelphia and to New York.”

  He felt a surge of energy.

  “Those are amazing cities. Priscilla, you simply must come to America, not only to see Iowa, but also to see New York, Philadelphia, and Chicago. Those cities tell people that whatever their view is of life, it should be bigger.”

  “It would be wonderful to come to America some day. Does this mean I’m invited?”

  She added the question without looking up.

  “Are you invited? Young lady, do not toy with me!”

  She pointed her fork at him and arched one eyebrow. Then, she became serious. “So, what time do we need to be at the theater?”

  He looked at his pocket watch and exclaimed, “Oh, no. We’re already late.”

  He slid his chair back a few inches from the table and appeared to be ready to leap up. Then, he relaxed. “Priscilla, would you please forgive me? I’ve been so delighted with our conversation, and the time has flown by, so that we can’t make it to the show. I’m so sorry. Can we try it again some time?”

  She appeared to be content. “Of course, let’s plan to go some other time. I wouldn’t have traded this evening for any other. I think our conversation is wonderful entertainment.”

  “Excellent. Then, we might as well slow down and plan for dessert.”

  He watched her with delight as she giggled and finished her meal. He thought of asking her about her family, her work preceding the museum, and much more, but he decided to let go of the details for this evening.

  She stopped for a moment and studied him through the candlelight. “Now Matthias, what is on your mind? You seem to be having much too much fun just sitting there. Is that acceptable to a professor of religious studies? Tell me, is it proper for religious people such as you to indulge the world?”

  “You raise a good question. Actually, I’m not what you might call a religious person. I’m more of a scholar of religion than a real man of faith.”

  Matthias noticed the flowers in the small vase on the table. “I’ve often been cynical of people who say they have a personal relationship with God. I just don’t see it. I’m burdened with more of an intellectual understanding of God.”

  Feeling her eyes on him, he felt encouraged. “Scripture is the most intriguing writing in the world. It’s in some ways, a means for discussing with oneself the meaning of life, of relationships, of truth and mystery. Do you read Priscilla; I mean have you ever studied the Bible?”

  She rested her elbows on the table, clasped her hands, and nestled her chin on top of them. “I am able to say that I first learned to read using the Bible. Our family was not keen on books, but we did have a Bible. My mother read a little, but the rest of them didn’t much care.”

  “I was fascinated by the relationships in the stories. I often asked myself why someone did what they did and how the other person felt. I did not understand what God intended, because it seemed that people went through so much trouble. They trusted Him to give them a better life, but they often got into much more trouble. Why is that?”

  That’s a good question. Some say that Scripture was written to keep you wondering about God. I don’t like that because it suggests that the Bible is merely a contrivance, and I don’t believe that. I like the idea that the words are inspired, because that word ‘inspired’ feels like a bridge between the world we live in and the place where God is, or at least where something more wonderful dwells.”

  “Perhaps, that may be where hope and love dwell,” she said softly.

  “What, what do you mean?” Matthias suddenly shot back.

  Priscilla was stunned and quiet. Neither of them moved. His eyes began to wander and blinked several times.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Priscilla.”

  His chin dropped and he breathed deeply. He looked again at her. “A little earlier this evening, you discretely asked about my wife. Her name was Hope. When you suggested that hope and love may dwell in heaven, I thought you may have referred to her. I am sorry. You could not have known.”

  “Matthias, I’m the one who is sorry. I wouldn’t bring pain to you for anything.”

  “I know you wouldn’t. She,” he glanced away, “she died in childbirth. Our daughter was lost with her. I lost two great loves in one moment; one that I knew and one I only hoped for. Since then, I have just been going through the motions of living.”

  He slid the fork around on his plate. “It’s odd. As much of a scholar as I am supposed to be about what God says about things, at least as written by ancient people, I still do not understand the misery we know in the world. That’s probably something that separates me from God and that personal relationship one might ideally have.”

  They were quiet again and seemed to be alone in the restaurant.

  The waiter interrupted their isolation. “May I remove these, sir? Will there be anything else?”

  Matthias motioned to the plates. As the server collected a few and was about to leave, Matthias said, “Wait, we will need dessert before we go.”

  “Matthias, I don’t need dessert,” Priscilla laughed. “The meal was generous and wonderful enough.”

  “Very well, then we’re finished.”

  “Would you care for a liqueur, sir? A brandy or something?”

  Matthias nodded toward Priscilla, and she shook her head to decline the offer.

  “I guess not. Thank you.”

  When the man departed, Priscilla said to Matthias, “This was most extravagant. This meal would cost me half a year’s wages. May I help in some way?”

  “Not at all but thank you. It would be extravagant for me as well, but the funds provided in the grant for my work here are remarkably generous. They cover my travel, lodging, food, and much more. I’d like to think that this wonderful evening out was compliments of the British Museum.”

  They raised their glasses in a toast to the museum. With glasses raised, they stopped for a moment and looked at each other.

  As they left the restaurant, Priscilla took Matthias’s arm with both hands without him offering it. Together, they moved as one down the open, curved stairway to the lobby, Matthias’s chest expanded to fill his shirt. He gazed at Priscilla. He sensed peace in seeing her appear so confident, enriched, and happy.

  “Would it be alright with you Priscilla if we walked past the theaters for a few minutes? I must admit I feel a little guilty about not getting us to one of them, and it is a pleasant evening.”

  She gripped his arm more firmly. When they reached the sidewalk, Priscilla paused and looked back into the hotel. Matthias watched her with loving attention. Then, they turned and walked along the busy, Frida
y night streets of the theater district.

  “I must say, this is a magical night for me,” Matthias said to the air in front of him.

  “Oh, so this is all about you, then!” she countered.

  Matthias enjoyed the idea that their silly attitudes were obvious to and envied by those who passed by.

  “Priscilla,” Matthias began, “I have an awkward question to ask of you.”

  “And, what might that be?”

  “I just wondered, and I may be completely inappropriate with this, but I wondered if you and Arthur, the man I met at your residence, are involved?”

  She let out a full laugh. She put her hand on her belly and stopped walking, continuing to laugh without restraint. Matthias looked around briefly to see if anyone was looking at them. Then, he began to laugh with her. They stood face to face, holding hands.

  As if in slow motion, they drifted together in a gentle but firm embrace. Her head rested against his chest. All he cared about was in his arms.

  He leaned his face toward hers, until their noses almost touched. Then, his arms dropped slowly to his sides, releasing her. “I feel I’ve kept you out very late. This has been, it has been a most wonderful evening.”

  Priscilla clasped her hands in front of her. She turned to look around. “Yes, this has been most wonderful. Thank you. Shall we return to the hotel to catch a cab or can we get one here?”

  “Priscilla, I’d like this night to never end. Could we talk, tomorrow?”

  “I’m not sure of my plans for tomorrow. I’m sure we can find some time to chat.”

  He took a small step forward and whispered, “I’m not sure what to do. Please be patient.”

  She sighed, took his arm, and led them down the sidewalk. “I must warn you, professor, Arthur has a nasty temper when it comes to any gentlemen coming near.”

  She laughed, but weakly.

  “Then, I must prepare for battle!” Matthias responded with glee, putting up his hands in a fighting pose.

  He waved at an approaching cab. It turned to the curb and they hurried to climb aboard. As they fell together in the seat, Priscilla slipped her arm through his and held him tightly. He leaned against her and patted her hand on his arm.

  London, UK

  1923

  IV - 5

  Matthias asked the driver to wait for a few minutes while he walked “the lady” to her door. A few steps from the cab, three men approached them, two walking a pace behind the first. The men swaggered, smelling of alcohol and sweat. The lead man looked at the cab driver and flipped his hand, motioning the driver to leave. Matthias noticed concern on the cabbie’s face as he pulled away.

  “Hey, wait!” Matthias shouted.

  He felt a rush of adrenalin. Firmly holding Priscilla’s arm with one hand, he moved her to his other side, away from the men.

  The man in front displayed a smile of twisted and broken teeth and leered at Priscilla.

  “Don’t you look pretty tonight? Been out on the town?”

  He didn’t look at Matthias.

  Priscilla suddenly looked fierce. “Reggie, you can be on your way.” She gave a pull to Matthias’s hand with her arm and turned toward the house.

  “Oh, sweet one! Is that any way to talk to an old friend?” He followed closely behind. “And, good evening to you, sir. I’m an old friend of this fine girl. What’s your name?”

  “Leave him, Reggie,” Priscilla barked. “Come on, professor.”

  “Ah! A professor! Oh, Priscilla you may have struck it rich this time!”

  Reggie laughed loudly. “Well professor, you’d better be good to my girl.” He caught up to Matthias and looked into his eyes. “And, if you want to get frisky, you may not like what comes next.”

  Matthias gently but firmly pushed Priscilla toward the door but turned to face the man and his friends. His nostrils flared.

  Priscilla swiveled, reached past Matthias, and jabbed the man in the chest. “Reggie, you get out of here. You have no right to speak that way. Now, get out.”

  She opened the door and pulled Matthias into the building. His focus was intense and ready for a fight. Outside, the voices of the men could be heard laughing and yelling as they moved down the street.

  “Who was that?” Matthias asked in a dry, hot breath.

  “Reggie MacDonald. He’s a local troublemaker. We’ve known each other since we were kids, but he never grew up. He comes from a bad lot. I thought he’d stay on the other side of the river but he’s unpredictable. Matthias, he means nothing to me, and he never has.”

  Jerking the door open, he stepped out into the darkness. He could hear them far down the street. Returning inside, he closed the door. Priscilla was sitting on a plain, wooden chair.

  He snarled, “They obviously wanted trouble, and I will deal with that if I have to. I was afraid you might be threatened.”

  She stood up and put her arms around him. They held each other. Letting go, she took his hand and led him to the end of the hall. She opened a door that revealed a narrow, dark stairway going down.

  He hesitated, unsure.

  “It’s alright,” she sweetly encouraged him.

  Matthias had to crouch to make his way down the staircase. Each step on the old wooden boards caused a creaking sound that suggested his foot might break through. A damp odor contrasted with a sweet fragrance. When he reached the bottom, he looked around the small, basement room wondering what it was for. Then, he realized that this was Priscilla’s place.

  The walls were rough stone, which had been decorated in various places with hanging ribbons, a poster, a brightly colored cloth remnant, and shelving. The shelves were wrapped with fabric and on them were short stacks of clothing. A single electric bulb hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room. It was covered with an Asian looking shade. In one corner, two dresses were laid out on a small bed. Priscilla took off her hat and set it on a small dresser. When she turned, her eyes revealed sadness.

  “I’m sorry that you must see this. This is where I live. No one else has ever been here.”

  Matthias didn’t know what to say. He put his hands in his pockets and looked around.

  “Well,” he finally said, “I guess I should consider this an honor, being the first visitor. I think you’ve done some nice things with it.” He grinned. “I particularly like the light shade!”

  Her expression warmed from embarrassment to determination. “I like to think that Puccini would consider it a tribute to the characters of La Boheme. Matthias, I would have liked you to think of my surroundings in a more comfortable setting.”

  He took her hand in his. “Actually, this only accentuates the wonder that you are. One’s surroundings can hide the nature of those who enjoy it. You must admit, the mummies at the museum look better there than they would here!”

  Priscilla gave a snort of laughter, putting her hand to her mouth. “Must you always find the good in everything?”

  “It seems my lady, that we are often starting over tonight. I think you and I have had to start over in some ways rather frequently in our lives. That’s what has gotten us to this place and time. I’m pleased with the results. So, where do you entertain your guests?”

  Priscilla gracefully gestured across the short room. “Well, many choose to enjoy viewing the local works of art on the walls, while others prefer to retire to the drawing room, which of course also serves as the bedroom and the dressing room. Oh dear, I forgot I had laid these out.”

  She rushed to the bed and gathered up the dresses. “Please feel free to sit there. I’m sorry. I have no chair. The comforter is clean.”

  Matthias smoothed the bed covering with his hand and sat down. He realized he was still wearing his hat and quickly removed it, setting it on the end of the bed.

  As Priscilla folded her dresses and put them on a shelf, he said, “May I a
sk you a question? It’s about Arthur, again.”

  “If you must.”

  “Would you tell me about him? He seemed to be somewhat protective when I first arrived.”

  She sat next to him. “Your instincts are good. He is protective of me, and I like that.” She paused. “Girls, and especially poor girls, are in a vulnerable place in this world. As I grew up, and as I matured, there were many times when my integrity was at risk.”

  She turned away. “Sometimes it comes from one’s own family, and other times, from those you know. Arthur is my mother’s oldest brother. When I was fifteen, I left home, and mother said this would be a safe place for me.”

  Priscilla took his hands. “It’s been good; modest, but safe. Arthur is an odd duck but a caring one. They say every place is a step up for someone.”

  “I agree, but only people with your vision of a better life and a willingness to make it happen can create good things out of a difficult situation.”

  “You’re very kind. I think if you look at your own life, you will see a dedication to what one must describe as noble.”

  Priscilla rose and went to a short wooden shelf. She picked up a heart-shaped, silver picture frame holding her mother’s picture. “My mother’s life was more difficult than mine has been, yet she was determined to be true to her good values.”

  Her fingers drifted across the face on the photo. Her thoughts seemed to renew her spirit as she returned the picture to the shelf. “Matthias, I’d like to ask you, if you’re willing, to share with me how you and your wife met.”

  He sighed.

  “You may remember that I mentioned my father’s passing occurred in a mining accident. Hope was in her last year at Grinnell. It’s a wonderful college in Iowa. She was doing some research in Buxton, where the mine was.”

  Matthias stared at his hands in his lap. “After the accident, I made a few trips to the mine. Hope was interviewing the management people and I was in touch with them, too. We ran into each other a few times. It seemed perfect, and it was, except life isn’t.”