A Jar Full of Light

by Rae Walsh

  Why did it feel unavailable to her? Theresa wanted a life with her family, in the town where she was born. She wanted to make art and sell it. What was it about Theresa that kept her from living in a way that seemed natural for other people? Theresa knew she had Aspergers Syndrome, but that couldn't be all of it. She had learned to manage her ASD, at least enough that it didn't incapacitate her during day-to-day life. She had found ways to live from her strengths and rest after she did things that exhausted her.

  The menace in the forest. Why was Theresa hounded the way she was? Why did she always have to deflect unwanted attention? She had driven all the way to Minnesota to get away from unwanted attention, and still, she had received unwanted letters. She thought of that heartbreaking first year, of putting Maddie into school and trying to adapt to the icy winters, trying to adjust to loneliness.

  Theresa had learned her way around her disorder in Minnesota. She had learned not to hate herself for being a person with ASD, to stop belittling herself, or wishing she were different. The time in Minnesota hadn't been wasted. But Theresa wanted to move on. She longed to stay in Aveline, to have a life here, with the women's group and the church, her family, and most of all, with Sheldon. She wanted it so badly, her teeth ached with the yearning.

  One morning, Theresa was making a cup of coffee when Remus started acting strangely, scratching at the inside of the front door and whining. After watching him do this for a moment or two, Theresa wiped her hands on her pants and went to see what he wanted. She opened the door and looked around. No one was there, but after a moment, Theresa noticed that the bougainvillea was knocked askew on the arbor, one side swinging drunkenly. She walked down the steps to fix it, propping it the vine back up and snapping off a sprig of the fuchsia blossoms to bring back to the house.

  As she climbed the porch steps, Theresa caught a glimpse of white and froze. Another note was lying tucked under the doormat, the corner of it a glaring contrast to the red tiles. She stood staring at it for several minutes before picking it up between two fingers and carrying it into the house.

  At first, Theresa dropped the note onto the countertop. She laid the bougainvillea blossoms on the white tiles of the island and paced through the rooms of her house. She felt a stinging sensation on the side of her index finger and looked at it, surprised by drops of blood. Theresa must have scraped herself on one of the bougainvillea thorns. She went to the bathroom sink and ran her hand under the tap, gazing at her pale face in the mirror. The note didn't mean anything. Theresa didn't want to open it—didn't want any thoughts of the menace in her own thoughts right now. She hadn't asked for his presence.

  She put the note in a drawer and closed it without reading a word.

  The next morning Theresa placed a green smoothie on the table in front of a sleepy Maddie, who thanked her and then went back to her book. Theresa pulled onions, tomatoes, and bell peppers out of the fridge. She sliced the onions into tiny chunks, and then diced the bell peppers and tomatoes, using her favorite knife. She heated olive oil in a pan, then added the onions and sautéed them until they were soft and translucent, adding the bell peppers and breathing in the scent. She tossed in the tomatoes last, then beat eggs and added them to the mix. She spooned the scramble onto two of her favorite plates, topping it with ground pepper and a sprinkle of grated Swiss cheese. Maddie was still deep in her book.

  Theresa sat down, setting a plate and fork in front of her daughter. Maddie looked up and made an 'O' with her mouth.

  "What's the occasion?" she asked.

  There was no occasion. Theresa simply knew that one of the ways you handled fear was to slow everything down and focus on each small thing. Making good food. Sitting in the morning sunlight with her beautiful daughter. Savoring each mouthful. She smiled at Maddie.

  "No occasion," she said. "I just felt like cooking."

  After Maddie left for school, Theresa picked up a large painting she had recently had framed and walked over to the studio. She found Sam installing the final shelves with one of the other workers. He had finished the large wall behind the shelves: white plaster and partially exposed brick. Theresa loved the result. The shelves Sam was finishing now stretched from the floor to the ceiling, with different heights for different sizes of pots and displays. In front of the large windows at the front of the shop, there were several floor pedestals, for Theresa's most substantial pieces.

  "I brought you this," she told her brother, indicating the painting. It was meant for the one blank space on the front wall.

  He glanced up and nodded, then went back to drilling.

  Theresa wandered around the studio, looking out at the shadows the midday sun made in between the trees. She went to the workshop at the back of the studio and spent some time organizing her tools into the drawers under the wide concrete countertops Sam had built. It was all so much. Theresa was used to working in a shed in the back yard.

  She stared out at the oak tree, lost in thought, yelping in surprise when Sam touched her arm.

  "What's wrong?" Sam asked. "You're chewing your lip as though you want to eat it."

  "Sorry, I was daydreaming." She turned and looked at the studio, gesturing with one hand. "This is just so perfect. It's overwhelming."

  The light in the workshop changed throughout the day. In the late afternoon, the streaming sunlight was like a gentle touch on every surface, making Theresa feel as though she were traveling in places only unlocked in her imagination. At night, the whole studio was lit with warmth, glowing in the garden. It was lovely at every moment of the day.

  "Are you sure you're okay, little sister?" Sam asked. “Sheldon was worried about you the other day. He didn’t want you to do the opening.”

  Theresa looked at him and smiled, giving him a big hug. She pulled away after a moment.

  "I’m totally fine,” she said. “And Sheldon is being overprotective. But thank you for everything. For making this so beautiful, for loving Maddie, and for looking out for me. You're a good big brother." It was their joke. She was a year older than Sam, but he had outgrown her when they were still very young. She had always been smaller and less substantial. Her smile faded. Maybe that was why she was an easy target. She banished the thought, knowing that Sam was much better at reading her than she was at knowing his thoughts.

  "What about you guys?" she asked, forcing a smile. "Do you have any news for us?"

  Sam looked blank. Theresa shook her head at him. He was sufficiently distracted, and after frowning at her for a moment, he went back to his shelves and Theresa went back to fiercely staring out the window, determined not to let anyone force her to flee again.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Later that day, Theresa carried a few orders to the post office. She had listed her older mugs and bowls, clearing out space and testing her online selling ability. The listings had sold out on the first day. Over the last year, Theresa had been playing with photography and social media, just little bits here and there, and she had gained thousands of followers. Apparently, her followers were excited to buy what she sold.

  She kicked at little heaps of fallen leaves, enjoying the contrast of the color against the gray concrete.

  Remus trotted along in front of her. The dog occasionally turned to wait, eyes trained on Theresa, as though making sure she was still with him. For a moment, Theresa squatted to pet him, leaning her forehead against the dog’s neck. His short fur was soft and smelled good after the bath Maddie’s had given him yesterday. It was pure pleasure to have a warm, furry animal to hug under the trees and the blue sky. Remus loved her without complication and was always happy that she was there. Theresa didn’t need to figure out what he was thinking or make sure she didn’t say something too outrageous in his presence.

  This is good, she told herself, and it’s normal. I don’t have to think about the forest menace, or about eyes watching me. It’s okay to be happy and to love my dog. For a single moment, it truly broke through to her, just how guarded she had always be
en, and how lovely it was to be here now, learning what she had. She straightened and kept walking, enjoying the feeling of afternoon sunshine warming the top of her head. The night would be chilly when the sun went down, and Theresa would burrow under her down blanket. In the distance, she could see the glimmer of the lake. Soon she would open her studio. It was a whole new chapter of life. She thought of how she had believed this could never happen for her, and she smiled at her younger, sadder self.

  Daniel was counting boxes at the front of the post office, absorbed in his work. Not wanting to interrupt, Theresa paused to look at one of his posters of a nebula. The colors were so brilliant, an explosion of warmth in a faraway place. She thought of how these were things they could never see up close, or even at the time they occurred. Before they’d had strong enough lenses to see stars and planets that far away, only God had known how beautiful they were. It was such extravagant beauty.

  Daniel finished his counting and looked up.

  “Reesey,” he said. “I’ve been wondering when I would see you again.”

  He came and gave her a quick, tight hug. She smiled into his face, but after a moment, her smile faded. Daniel didn’t look so good. His shoulders were tense and hitched up high, and he had several weeks of beard growth on his face, and shadows under his eyes.

  “Hey,” Theresa said. “Are you doing okay? They’re not still bothering you about the hate crime stuff, are they?”

  She chewed her lip, wondering for the millionth time whether she should tell what she knew. She would, Theresa thought, if the only concern was her own safety. But the menace had threatened Maddie, and Sheldon, and well, everyone Theresa loved.

  “I had good news this morning,” he said. “The police are dropping me as a suspect. George spoke up for me and told them he didn’t think I did it. He told them he didn’t want them to focus on me anymore because it was distracting from the real investigation.”

  Relief flowed through Theresa. She wouldn’t have to tell.

  “That’s wonderful,” she said. But Daniel’s face didn’t change. “Isn’t it wonderful?” she asked, feeling suddenly unsure.

  He shifted from foot to foot. “In a way, it’s great,” he said. “But I feel as though suspicion is drifting along behind me wherever I go. All I really want is work and music, science and maybe some good food now and then. A walk to the lake. Spending time with you and Sheldon. Friendship with the guys at backyard night.” His eyes had drifted to the window as he spoke. Theresa’s throat started to sting. Daniel was describing something similar to what she wished she had for herself. “But there’s this thing that follows me,” he went on. “People look at me strangely, and even George isn’t sure about me anymore.”

  His face was so sad. Even Theresa could see that. Her stomach ached, and she put a hand on his arm.

  Daniel spoke very quietly. “Do you think you should tell?”

  Theresa looked up so quickly she got a crick in her neck. She winced at the pain, absently putting one hand to the spot and taking a step back.

  “What?” Her voice was hoarse.

  “Never mind,” Daniel said. “I’m sure there’s a reason you haven’t said anything. I’ve seen his…violent tendencies.”

  She stared at him. Daniel mouthed a name to her, and Theresa drew in a shaky breath. For a moment, she felt as though she might fall over. She could see the cruel forest, see the eyes emerging from it. Daniel grabbed her hand, and the menace cleared from her vision.

  “How long have you known?” she whispered.

  “I think I’ve always known. I just know you too well, and I spend a lot of time trying to figure people out. Before you left, I could see how you changed when his name came up or if he walked down the street.” He squeezed her hand, then let it drop gently. “I remember everything, and I know too many details. It gets me in trouble. I would rather not know because I wouldn’t always be wondering about whether you can help me.”

  Theresa’s eyes flooded with tears. “I would…” she couldn’t finish the sentence. Her throat was starting to close, and she reached up to rub at her forehead.

  “It’s Maddie, isn’t it?” Daniel asked. “She the one you’re protecting.”

  Theresa pressed her palms into her eyes. She had to make him understand. It wasn’t a lack of love. Theresa looked at her dear friend, willing him to understand.

  “Since this all started, so many years ago,” Theresa told him, “I have never gone a day without wondering if I would die or my daughter would be hurt that day.”

  Daniel stared at her. “No one should live like that,” he said. “You need to go to the authorities.”

  “I tried,” she told him. “In the very beginning. He hasn’t always been the way he is now. He used to be well-respected, and the policeman I spoke to told me it would be my word against his. I had already been categorized as unstable because of public meltdowns before my diagnosis. I thought I could just be better, try harder, not be victimized or weak. But he got worse and worse until I finally left.”

  Daniel looked at her for a long moment, and then gave her another hug. She let herself relax against him. He pulled away and looked at her.

  “I trust you,” he said. “I know you’ll do as much as you can. And I can deal with a bit of suspicion if it keeps you safe.”

  Theresa cried all the way home. All the optimism from the walk to the post office was gone. She was not strong enough to face this again. She should never have come back. Remus pushed his nose into her hand, worried about her. When she got to her house, she went straight inside, closed all the curtains, and sat on the couch. Maddie was at Dorothy’s, so there was nothing to make her get up from that spot. That was where Sheldon found her that evening.

  “I thought you might be making pots, and I could read to you,” he said gently.

  She just looked at him. “It’s been a rough day.”

  “I’ll just read to you, then,” he said.

  She burrowed into the sofa while he read.

  “It’s by Wendell Berry,” he told her.

  “Oh, I love Wendell Berry,” she said.

  “It’s called The Real Work.

  It may be that when we no longer know what to do,

  We have come to our real work,

  And that when we no longer know which way to go,

  We have come to our real journey.

  * * *

  The mind that is not baffled is not employed.

  * * *

  The impeded stream is the one that sings.”

  She turned her head and looked at his beautiful face, lit by the lamp beside him. His kind eyes, black hair. His long bones. “Do you want to look at the stars like we used to?” she asked.

  Sheldon’s face was very still.

  “Down at the lake?” he asked.

  “I think we could just lie in the backyard,” she said. “There aren’t many streetlights around here. We can bring blankets.”

  “That sounds good,” he said. He reached one hand over and touched the inside of Theresa’s wrist. She shivered.

  She boiled water and made them hot lemon, rum, and honey, while Sheldon carried blankets and a speaker out to the grass. They lay back and looked at the stars, and the sounds of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons swelled around them.

  Theresa thought of the galaxy in Daniel’s office, of how he traveled through the universe, and saw so many details, how he had memorized the way Theresa’s eyes widened or closed when the menace was near. Of how he knew more than he wanted to. She thought of all the tiny post stamps he lined up perfectly on each package he mailed.

  She turned her head to the side and found that Sheldon was already looking at her. If she were Daniel, she could maybe deduce what Sheldon’s eyes meant, but Theresa thought she could guess. Underneath the blanket, Sheldon’s hand found hers, and the feel of it was so familiar that tears leaked from Theresa’s eyes, wetting the cloth beneath her head.

  Every impossible thing rose up before her, but she was hold
ing Sheldon’s hand, and it made her feel as though everything would be all right. And Daniel was willing to keep her secret.

  I can do this, she thought. We don’t have to leave. We can keep Maddie safe. Surely there are enough of us that love her. We can keep her safe.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Sheldon stood in front of his armoire, looking through suit choices. Tonight was the dress rehearsal of the play, and as director and writer, he needed to dress for the play’s success. Which suit, though? The baby blue forties-style with stovepipe pants? He even had a baby blue fedora to match. Or should he wear the embroidered purple suit he had worn to Sam’s wedding? No, it was too soon to wear that one again.

  He flipped through his clothes, enjoying the clack of the hangers along the dowel. He needed the perfect thing. Ah. Maybe this.

  Sheldon had spent a brief time traveling after he received his inheritance from the grandfather he had never met. He wandered through India, Nepal, and China, before making his way to Greece, Morocco, and Egypt. The caftan Sheldon held in his hands was from Morocco, proof that he had once spent time browsing Moroccan souks before he came back to Aveline and bought the nearly defunct grocery store that he transformed into Green’s. It was a rich woven black with colorful embroidery on the front panel and sleeves.

  Sheldon put the caftan on. It fell to his ankles. He found a fez to go with it, blowing the dust off the hat and setting it on his head. Sheldon examined himself in the mirror. It would do. He picked up his walking stick and left the apartment.

  The caftan drew a lot of attention as Sheldon made his way to the church. He got a catcall or two, and a “Well, hello, Sheldon!” from a woman on the corner. Sheldon shook his head. People in this town were far too excitable.

  He ran into Francisco in the church foyer. The reverend looked Sheldon up and down with raised eyebrows.