Loreena's Gift Read online

  Loreena returned to the lake in her mind, savoring the images again: the vibrant colors, the textures, the sounds of the water against the shore. “I think if there was a Lord to meet I’d have met Him by now.”

  “You’re that special, huh, that you could see Him before death when the rest of us can’t?”

  “I see death, Uncle. Their deaths. I go with them, farther every time. He’s never there.”

  Uncle Don turned the blinker on. “What do you mean, farther every time?”

  Loreena moved her right hand to the armrest and wrapped her fingers around the grip. She hadn’t meant to tell him that part. “Just that I’ve tried to see Him, and I never do, and I’ve been several different places now. Couldn’t you imagine just for one moment that maybe we don’t go to the Heaven that’s in the Bible? Maybe we go somewhere…else?”

  “I can imagine, sure, but it’s not the truth.”

  Loreena sighed.

  Uncle Don rolled up his window. The whistling stopped. “Look,” he said. “I think you and I need to talk. About your future.”

  She turned toward him. “Weren’t we talking about Heaven?”

  “You’re young. You should be excited about the rest of your life.” He rubbed his chin, fingers bristling over new stubble. “I get the feeling maybe you’re not.”

  Loreena turned back toward the window.

  “Are you?”

  “Do you want me to leave the church?”

  “Don’t be petulant.”

  Petulant? Where did he come up with these words?

  “The church is your home. But something is missing for you. Why else would you want to stay with Russell?”

  Loreena shook her head. “I didn’t really want to stay with him.”

  “You didn’t want to come back. I had to shake you. You’re right—you were gone longer than usual.” He moved through an intersection, cars passing on either side of them. “You scared me. What if I wasn’t there to call you back?”

  Loreena ran one hand through her hair, smoothing it behind her ear. What if? Could she have stayed forever, lived in that world of Russell’s, so quiet and peaceful? Would she have left her body there, dead, beside the old man’s? Then might her mother have come out from wherever she was hiding?

  “You always are. There,” she said.

  “But what if I weren’t? You’re supposed to help these people let go—that’s all. I’m concerned that you’re becoming a little confused about that.”

  How did he know what she was there for? Loreena rolled the window up. She imagined the town as they drove, the businesses on Main Street, the old theater where she and Saul used to go on Friday nights, where they went that last night, on her eighteenth birthday. She remembered how they sat in the tall chairs in the back, chewing popcorn and sipping soda, their heads bent together as Saul whispered what was going on. She was better at figuring it out than she had been when she was younger, taking cues from the dialogue, sound effects, and music, but she never stopped his narrative. It was often as entertaining as the movie itself.

  Here comes the ugly girlfriend, he would say, and boy is she uuugly. Like, plaid frock over a gunnysack of shit ugly.

  Loreena chuckled.

  “Do you understand that?” her uncle said.

  Startled, Loreena turned toward him. “I can see there, Uncle. Whenever I go. I can see.”

  Her uncle downshifted as they headed up the hill, the engine whine pitching higher as they climbed. Mary Hill Lane stretched about a half mile up until it leveled off on top of the rise, and a gentle swerve to the left put them onto Angel Street, the narrow road that led to the house. Members would turn right to go into the church parking lot. Loreena felt the left turn before they took it, her body leaning, her bones eager for her own bed.

  Uncle Don didn’t say any more until they had pulled into the driveway, the gravel stones pinging against the undercarriage as they rolled to a stop in front of the house. Keys in his palm, he waited while the truck settled around them, parts clicking and ticking behind the dashboard. “Is it too difficult, to be reminded?”

  Loreena gripped the door handle. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s all difficult. Before I touch them, I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. But when I go somewhere, like where I went with Russell today, I’m always glad to be there. And Russell was so happy. I think you’re right that we’re helping people.” She rubbed the chrome surface with her thumb. “Sometimes it is hard to come back. Can you imagine coming back and not being able to see?”

  He jingled the keys over his fingers. “We’ve done three now. And Ben is with the Lord. I know he is.” He paused. “Maybe we should—”

  “No.” She grabbed his arm. “We can’t stop.” Her chest tightened. She shouldn’t have told him.

  “But Loreena—”

  “Russell would still be in pain. And it would just get worse. He was such a nice man. He didn’t deserve to suffer. I know there are more out there like him, and they’ll suffer too if we don’t help them.”

  Uncle Don said nothing.

  “Besides…” She faced the window. “It would be harder still, to live the rest of my life knowing I’d never see again.”

  “But you did okay before. Before…”

  “Ben?”

  “Yes.”

  “I guess.” What else could she say? How could she tell him how much it had hurt when Saul left and she was plunged into the loneliness of her own darkness? How could she explain how, amidst the horror of Ben’s unexpected death, she had experienced the joy of her own sight?

  “You know, most blind people have to come to terms with their disability,” Uncle Don said. “At some point.”

  “I know.” Loreena opened her door. “But right now, I’m not one of them.”

  3

  Uncle Don made no protest when Saul arrived on Friday night. He hadn’t said a word when Loreena told him she was going out, either. She had expected an argument, a lecture, something, but he had only retreated to his study, fumbled around in one of his drawers, and returned to fill her palm with dimes. She was to call if she needed him, he’d told her. Then he’d disappeared inside his study again as if he didn’t want to hear any more about it.

  Now that the time had come, and she was wearing lipstick and her brother’s car was idling rough out in the driveway, Loreena hesitated, no longer sure of her decision. “I’m going, Uncle!” she called.

  He didn’t answer.

  “I made brownies.” The baked goods, not as delectable as Mrs. Enger’s but warm and inviting, sat on a plate on the kitchen table, cut and covered with a light yellow cloth, the smell of cocoa rich in the air. But even his favorite dessert didn’t tempt her uncle, and she walked out the door alone.

  On the porch, the air took hold of her skin, sliding under the collar of her cape jacket to chill her neck. It had been another warm late August day, but already the nights were getting a little cooler, a sign that fall was on its way. She pulled the sides of the jacket together and tucked her arms close to her body. The dimes she had stuffed in her shoes and her bra. She could feel the metal against her skin, reassuring, though calling her uncle tonight would feel like a defeat, like admitting she was wrong and should have stayed home. That was the last thing she wanted. No, tonight would be about proving his concerns about Saul were unfounded and she was perfectly safe spending time with him.

  Saul honked the horn. She jumped. The noise seemed unusually loud, and she was sure everyone in the neighborhood had heard. One hand on the railing, the other gripping her cane, she found her way down the stairs and over the round stones to the driveway, where the car sat idling behind Uncle Don’s truck, its engine growling with a rumble that vibrated the soles of her pumps. She paused when she came to it. Where was the door handle? Usually Saul would help her get in, but she hadn’t heard him step out of the vehicle. In her hesitation, the engine roared louder, the smell of exhaust making her head swim.

  “Hey, Lor,” Saul shouted. “M
ind sitting in the back?”

  She could hear him easily, like he was outside rather than in the car. She reached her hand out, searching.

  The door opened and Crystal’s potent floral perfume wafted through the air. Saul’s girlfriend was sitting in the passenger seat. She stepped out, her shoes crunching gravel. Loreena imagined the girl in pants and the high boots she’d heard were in fashion. Crystal pulled the seat forward with a thump. “Only two doors,” she said.

  Loreena searched for the roof.

  “Convertible!” Saul shouted.

  “Oh!” She tried to imagine it, Saul in a convertible. It took her a few moments, but she managed to find the opening and get herself onto the slick leather backseat. As soon as Crystal had dropped in and clicked the door shut, Saul stepped on the gas, backing them out of the driveway. Loreena wondered if her uncle was watching from the window. What would he think of the convertible?

  Saul shifted the car into drive and started down Mary Hill Lane. Loreena pulled her jacket about her again, the night breeze blowing full in her face. So much for her fancy updo; the wind had already pushed some of her hair loose from its bobby pins. She did her best to tuck the strands back.

  “What do you think, Lor?” Saul asked. “Can you guess what kind it is?”

  Loreena ran her gloved hands over the door, the seat beside her, and the back of the front seat crunching her knees. “Whatever it is, it’s small!”

  “But it’s cool! Take a guess.”

  Loreena closed her eyes as they flew down the road. Another fallen lock of hair danced on her forehead. They had to be going much faster than thirty miles per hour, which was the speed limit. The stop sign would come soon, and Saul would have to slam on the brakes. Trying to calm herself, she remembered something he had said more than once while they were growing up.

  “A Mustang?” she asked.

  “Ha. I knew you’d remember. See?” He slapped Crystal on the leg. “Told you she would know.”

  Crystal said nothing.

  Saul turned up the radio. The speakers boomed behind Loreena’s head, guitars grinding, cymbals crashing, the voices repeating the same phrase over and over. She pressed her hands over her ears.

  “Oh. Sorry.” Saul turned the music back down.

  “What?” Crystal said. “I like that one.”

  Slap. “Leave it,” Saul said.

  Had he just slapped her hand?

  There was no stopping at the stop sign, just a slight pause and Saul went on through, proceeding the same way for several blocks until he turned right onto Main Street. Loreena felt around her, looking for something to hold onto, but there was nothing. She braced her feet on the floor and resisted the temptation to grab hold of Crystal’s seat.

  “Give me a bellyache, why don’t you,” Crystal said.

  “We’re in a Mustang, babe. Gotta drive her like we own her.”

  Loreena took off one glove and felt the leather seat, the stitching forming long pillows the width of rolled napkins, the cushioning full and tight underneath. “Is this your car?” she asked.

  “It is now.”

  Crystal laughed, as if it were a joke. Saul joined in, and Loreena remembered what her uncle had said the night before, over dinner. He’s involved in something. Drugs. Gambling. Worse than before. She’d brushed him off then, but now, sitting in the back of the fancy Mustang going much too fast through town, Loreena felt a chill and tucked her neck down into her collar.

  About twenty minutes later, Saul turned right on a gravel road, traveled about five hundred feet, turned again, and brought the car to a stop.

  Crystal jumped out. “Woohoo! Come on, babe.”

  By the time Loreena emerged, the girl was already gone. They had both left her behind, she thought, until Saul came up beside her.

  “Ready?”

  Smiling, she took his arm. He wore a leather jacket, the scent of animal hide fresh on the garment, as if he’d just bought it. They went five steps over the stones before she realized.

  She’d left one glove in the car.

  “Wait.”

  Saul kept walking.

  “Wait! My glove.”

  “You won’t need it.”

  She tugged on him, her heels sliding over the ground. “Please. My hands get cold.”

  “It will be warm inside.” He kept going until he broke her grip. “Hey, babe, wait up!” He broke into a jog, his long legs taking him quickly beyond Loreena’s reach.

  She hesitated. If she retreated now, it would be difficult to find her way into the building. She’d left her cane in the car, not wanting to draw attention to herself while out with her brother and his girlfriend. Besides, usually when she was with Saul, she didn’t need it, but she had to stay right with him. Tucking her left hand into her jacket, she hurried forward. Within a few steps she caught up and took his arm again.

  They walked through a wall of cigarette smoke, the haze stinging her nostrils and making her eyes water. The place was full of warm bodies, voices of all tones and timbres talking and laughing, creating a hum of background noise to the main sound, which was the country band to the right. A man with a baritone voice sang over a sexy backbeat, his words a series of seductive phrases that elicited a frequent shout or a whoop from the audience.

  Saul weaved back and forth between the bodies like he used to when they roller-skated together, pulling her along with his hand over hers. The speakers were so loud Loreena could feel the bass guitar in her chest, the clink of glasses coming from the left where she guessed the bartender was making the drinks. Everyone they passed seemed to be laughing or shouting, the mix of perfumes and colognes and scented body lotions a chemical cocktail that made her more nauseated than she’d felt in the car. She longed for a bathroom but dared not ask, as Saul was searching for a place to sit. He paused a moment, and then moved forward again, dodging tables and chairs, pulling her along behind him. Loreena felt elbows brushing against her, the scent of alcohol coming at her in waves, and clung to Saul’s arm.

  “Over here,” he said. “Crystal’s got a table.”

  Was that why the girl had left them behind? After another four steps, Saul helped her into a wooden chair. It wobbled, a rickety model with an arched back, and she wasn’t sure it would hold her weight, but she sat as quickly as she could, hands on the sides to steady herself.

  “This band is hip!” Crystal shouted above the noise. “I think the lead is already drunk.”

  Loreena fought the urge to cover her ears. Everything was so loud. Behind her, people drifted by, their hips knocking into the back of her chair, others placing their hands on it to steady themselves, their fingers brushing her back with unwelcome familiarity. She leaned forward to escape the uncomfortable sensation.

  “Would you like something to drink, sweetie?” A female voice spoke on her left side.

  “Something to drink, Lor?” Saul asked.

  Loreena turned her face up toward the waitress, but she didn’t know what to answer. “Coke?”

  “Aw, come on, be adventurous!” Crystal yelled.

  “A pink squirrel,” Saul said, “and bring me your best on tap. She wants a Manhattan.”

  The waitress left, heels click-clacking against the wooden floor. The band finished their sexy song and started another, this one more of a dance tune, the guitar player strumming a chuck-a-chuck rhythm. Saul and Crystal talked on the other side of the table in short, shouted sentences. Loreena sat alone. When the drink came, she welcomed it, for it gave her something to focus on. Before she realized it, she had wrapped both her gloved hand and bare hand around the cold glass, the condensation wet against her skin. She had the feeling she was breaking a rule or committing some sin—but really, what was the harm? She wasn’t going to take anyone’s hand. Not here. Putting the straw to her lips, she sipped, and then sipped again.

  “What do you think?” Crystal shouted.

  Loreena nodded. “Pretty good!”

  Saul laughed. “Uh-oh. I think we’re in
trouble now.”

  Loreena smiled and took another sip. She tapped her foot in time to the music, the drink flowing smoothly down her throat. With her left hand, she kept gripping the glass, letting go, and gripping again, delighting in the feel of the cool hardness against her skin.

  “Come on, babe,” Crystal said. “Let’s dance.”

  Her thick heels were clacking over the wood floor before Saul had even gotten out of his chair. Loreena had to go to the restroom but dared not leave; she didn’t trust herself to find her way back in this crowd. Waiting, she sipped her drink, and when the waitress came back and asked if she’d like another, she said yes. The song was nearly over before the woman returned.

  “I’ll be around,” she said.

  Loreena wrapped her bare hand around the slim stem and found the straw. When Crystal and Saul came back to the table, she was relishing the creamy concoction on the back of her tongue.

  “Hey, Lor, is that number two?” Saul asked.

  Loreena smiled. “Want to try it?”

  “Nah. Not my thing.”

  She thought of asking Crystal to go with her to the restroom, but the girl was already drunk, her laugh rising in volume with every quarter hour, her body squirming so much that at one point she knocked the table with her knees and nearly spilled all of their drinks. Eventually, Loreena got up the nerve, but Crystal was so impatient and the stalls so cold she was glad to hurry back to the table. Trying to figure out how to act around Saul’s new girlfriend was confusing to say the least, and then Loreena remembered the girl’s father had just died. After that, she wondered how Crystal was functioning at all. Maybe the drinking and laughing and running to the dance floor just about every song was her way of dealing with it. Or maybe this was just her way in general.

  The band continued to play, a tireless bunch who seemed to thrive on the energy of the crowd, and Saul and Crystal danced and danced, until Loreena felt a cramp in her back from sitting so erect in the rickety chair. She forced herself to relax. The drink made her head feel fuzzy and her limbs loose. Shortly after that, Saul appeared out of nowhere, took her gloved hand, and led her out onto the dance floor. Loreena tucked her other hand behind her, and when Saul turned to face her, she grabbed his shoulder, her bare palm pressed safely against the leather.