Part 2 (1/2)
Sometime or other, when we were browsing in the gift shop, amid the rosaries and the Indian jewelry, I asked Liona if I could take Toby with me into the chapel and pray.
”I know he's Jewish,” I said.
”It's fine,” she answered. ”You just take him and talk to him about it any way that you want.”
We tiptoed inside because it was shadowy and quiet, and the few people at prayer in the plain wooden pews seemed very serious at it, and the candles gave a soft reverent glow.
I took him up to the front with me, and we knelt on the pair of prie-dieux that were there for weddings, for the bride and the groom.
I realized how much had happened to me with Malchiah since I'd come to this chapel, and when I looked at the tabernacle, when I looked at the small house of G.o.d on the altar, and the sanctuary light beside it, I was overcome with grat.i.tude just for being alive, let alone being given a chance at life such as I'd been given, let alone being given the gift of Toby that was mine.
I leaned down close to him. He was kneeling there, with his hands folded just as mine had been folded, and he didn't seem to object to the fact that it was a Catholic house of wors.h.i.+p.
”I want to tell you something, something I want you always to remember,” I said.
He nodded.
”I believe G.o.d's in this house,” I said. ”But I know that He is everywhere too. He's in every molecule of everything that exists. It's all part of Him, His creation, and I believe in Him, in everything He's ever done.”
He listened to this without looking at me. His eyes were down. He just nodded when I stopped.
”I don't expect you to believe in Him because I do,” I said. ”But I want you to know that I do believe in Him, and if I didn't think He'd forgiven me for leaving you and your mother, well, I don't know that I would have ever had the courage to pick up the phone and call her and tell her where I was. But I do believe He's forgiven me, and now it's my job to get you to forgive me, and to get her to forgive me, and I aim to do exactly that.”
”I forgive you,” he said in a small voice. ”I really really do.”
I smiled. I kissed the top of his head. ”I know you do. I knew it when I first saw you. But forgiving doesn't really happen all at once, and sometimes it takes some maintenance, and I'm prepared for the maintenance that this is going to require. But...this isn't all I have to tell you. I have to tell you something else too.”
”I'm listening,” he said.
”Remember this,” I said. I hesitated. I didn't know quite how to start. ”Talk to G.o.d,” I said. ”No matter how you're feeling, no matter what you're facing, no matter what happens to hurt you or disappoint you or confuse you. Talk to G.o.d. And never stop talking to Him. You understand me? Talk to Him. Realize that because things go bad in this world, because they go well, because they come easy or they come with difficulty, well, it doesn't mean that He is not here. I don't mean here in this chapel. I mean here everywhere. Talk to Him. No matter how many years pa.s.s, no matter what happens, always talk to Him. Would you try to remember to do that?”
He nodded. ”When do I start?”
I laughed softly under my breath. ”Anytime you want. You start now with or without words, and you just keep talking and you never never let anything come between you and talking to G.o.d.”
He thought about this very gravely and then he nodded. ”I'm going to talk to Him now,” he said. ”You might want to wait outside.”
I was amazed. I got up, kissed him again on the forehead and told him that I'd be right outside whenever he wanted to join me.
About fifteen minutes later he came out and we started walking down the garden paths together, and he was taking pictures again, and he didn't say too much. But he walked right close to me, next to me, as if he was with me, and when I saw Liona sitting on a bench just smiling at us as we walked together, I felt such happiness I couldn't find words myself to contain it. And I knew I never would.
We walked back, Toby and I, to the giant sh.e.l.l of the ruined church, the largest part that had been left by the old quake.
For the first time, I saw Malchiah, over to one side, leaning rather casually, for all his fine clothes, against the dusty brick-and-mortar wall.
”There he is again,” said Toby.
”You mean you've seen him before?” I asked.
”Yeah, he's been watching us. He was in the chapel when we were in the chapel. I saw him when I was going out.”
”Well, you could say I work for him,” I said. ”And he's keeping a bit of an eye on me.”
”He's young to be somebody's boss,” said Toby.
”Don't let him fool you,” I said. ”Hang here a minute. I think he wants a word with me and doesn't want to interrupt.”
I crossed the broken ground until I caught up with Malchiah and I drew in close so that none of the tourists would hear what I had to say.
”I love her,” I said. ”Is that possible? For me to love her? I love him, yes, he's my son, and that's what I'm meant to do, and I thank Heaven for him, but what about her? Is there world enough and time to love her?”
”'World enough and time,'” he repeated smiling. ”Oh, those are such beautiful words, and how you make me mindful of what it is I ask of you. World enough and time is what you have to give me,” he said.
”But what about her?” I insisted.
”Only you know that answer, Toby,” he said. ”Or maybe I should say that the two of you know it. I think she knows it too.”
I was about to ask about the other angel, but he left me.
How it looked to others I had no idea.
I found my son busy at the koi pond with his camera, determined to catch one fish which didn't want to be caught.
The afternoon went fast.
We shopped in San Juan Capistrano, and then I drove them along the coast. Neither of them had seen the Pacific and we found some breathtaking vantage points and Toby wanted to take as many pictures as he could.
Dinner was in the dark and atmospheric Duane's steak house, at the Mission Inn, and mother and son were suitably impressed. When n.o.body was looking Liona gave Toby a sip of her red wine.
We talked all about New Orleans the way it was these days after the horrors of Hurricane Katrina and how difficult the storm had been. I could tell it had been a great adventure to Toby, even though his grandfather made him do his homework in the motels they'd had to rent for the worst part of the aftermath, and that for Liona something of the old New Orleans was still gone.
”You think you'll ever come home to live there?” Toby asked.
”I don't know,” I said. ”I'm a creature of the coast now, I think, but there are different reasons why people live in different places.”
And very quickly, heartbreakingly fast, he said, ”I could live just fine out here.”
There was a sudden flash of pain in Liona's face. She looked off, and then at me. I could scarcely disguise what I was feeling. Impulses, hopes, a sudden volcanic flow of dreams obliterated my thinking. There was a tragic quality to it. A grim pessimism took hold of me. No right to her, no right to this. No right to her, no right to this.
In the hazy gloom of the restaurant, I saw nothing. And then I realized I'd been looking at a pair of men at the table nearest us, Malchiah and my guardian angel. They sat still as a painting, regarding me just as figures in paintings often do, from the serene corners of their eyes.
I swallowed. I felt a rising desire. I didn't want them to know this.
At the door of her suite, she lingered. Toby had hurried off proudly to his own own room, where he wanted to take his room, where he wanted to take his own own shower. shower.
Somewhere in the shadows of the veranda, those two were there. I knew it. I'd seen them when we came along the walkway. She didn't know. Maybe they weren't visible to her.
I stood silently, not daring to move closer to her, or to touch her arms, or to bend down for the smallest kiss. I was miserable with desire. I was in agony.
Is it possible for you two to understand this, that when I take this lady in my arms, she expects more from me than a brotherly embrace? d.a.m.n it, it's the gentlemanly thing to do, if only to give her the chance to say no to me!