After Life (9 page)

someone else's sneakers.

It's a big house, Lee began with enough surprise in his voice to impress

Jessie. And it looks like they have a nice piece of property, too. I'd

say a couple of acres.

How big is the house? Bigger than the DeGroot house?

Oh yeah. It's very pretty. Looks recently painted.

Wedgwood blue, he continued as he slowed down to turn into the Bakers'

driveway. He had made it his business to get better and better at

describing things, feeling now that his eyes had to see for the two of

them.

That, plus his own lingering guilt, made it important that he do

anything and everything he could to compensate for Jessie's handicap.

It's a two-story, wood frame building with a steeply pitched roof.

There's a prominent central cross gable on the roof with a very

decorative truss at the apex. There are gabled dormers on either side.

The windows have a sort of Gothic shape to them. The house has a

full-length porch, like the DeGroot house, with flattened arches between

the porch supports.

It sounds very pretty, Lee.

Um. Impressive for a public-school teacher. They must have had some

money.

He pulled alongside the immaculate, silver Mercedes Benz sedan and saw

the MD license plates.

Dr. Beezly is already here, he said. I don't see any other cars.

Are we early?" "No, Just on time, he said, and shut off the engine.

Schoolteachers have trouble being fashionably late, she kidded. You're

too used to bells and schedules.

Occupational hazard.

What's the front like? she asked.

There's a concrete walkway with bordering hedges.

Big lawn. Some expensive landscaping. Very, very nice, he added. Then

he got out and went around to help Jessie out. She threaded her arm

through his.

How do I look?

Beautiful. I don't know how you manage to get your hair so perfect.

She smiled. Jessie did look very pretty and very fresh tonight. He had

been worrying about her because she hadn't slept well the past few

nights and looked tired and drawn to him every morning.

Jessie hadn't bought any new clothing since the accident Lee had offered

many times to go shopping with her, promising to describe every dress,

every blouse, every pair of shoes down to the most minute detail, but

she just wasn't interested, or as she put it, she just wasn't ready. She

simply didn't have the confidence to try anything new yet. For the time

being she felt more comfortable with her present wardrobe. She knew

every garment and easily recalled how each looked on her.

For tonight she had chosen one of her Betsy Johnsons, an

off-the-shoulder, blue-and-white polka-dot satin dress with a sweetheart

collar, a form-fitted waist, and a pleated skirt. It fit her as well as

it did the day she had bought it, for Jessie took great care to maintain

her figure. She had always been exercise-minded and resumed her routine

as soon as she had recuperated enough to do so.

Step up, Lee said as they approached the walk way.

It's so peaceful here, Lee. What's the street like?

Very wide, tall maples here and there. Most of the homes are as

expensive looking and as big as the Bakers someday we'll have something

like this, too, she said Sure. To him the possibility seemed as remote

as their taking a trip to the moon, but he didn't want to sound

pessimistic. He knew one of the things that depressed Jessie the most

was the fact that she could no longer work and bring in an additional

income. He told her that now, with her braille typewriter, she would

have more time to work and she would write something that would sell big

and have the effect of their winning the lottery.

Great door, Lee remarked. Jessie ran her hand over the elaborate

panels. And no buzzer. Just this black iron knocker shaped like a

hammer. Cute. He let it rap. From the sound of the deep echo, they

both knew the entryway was wide and deep. Moments later Bob opened the

door.

He was dressed in a maroon blazer with a white cravat and dark blue

slacks. He held a glass of champagne in his left hand.

Hi, he said. Welcome to Castle Baker.

It's big enough to be a castle, Lee said.

Lee described it to me. It sounds beautiful, Jessie said.

Thank you. It's become home sweet home. Come in, come in. Here, let

me take your coats, he offered. Lee helped Jessie off with hers and

handed it to Bob, who hung it in the deep cedarwood closet.

Oh, I love the scent of cedarwood, Jessie said.

All our closets and drawers are done in cedar. Actually we've put a lot

of money into redoing the house. It's pretty old, about fifty years or

so.

You wouldn't know it from the outside, Lee said.

How long have you been here?

A little over a year. Know what you're thinking, buddy, Baker said. I

didn't get it on a teacher's salary.

We had a little money and I invested in an enterprise that's rapidly

becoming rather successful. A few of us at the school have, thanks to

the wise Dr. Beezly. Maybe we'll get you into it, too.

Oh? What is it exactly?

Baker leaned toward him.

A corporation that owns and operates cemeteries, he said in a loud

whisper.

Cemeteries? Jessie instinctively brought her hands to the base of her

throat.

Yes, but let's not stand here and talk. Tracy and Dr. Beezly are in

the den. We've already- started our cocktail hour, he said, lifting his

glass. Know who else is coming? He gestured for Lee and Jessie to

follow him. He brought his mouth close to Lee's ear.

Henry and Marjorie Young. You'll be able to make some quick brownie

points tonight, he added in a coy whisper.

Lee didn't reply. He was never able to kiss ass. It was his Overstreet

pride. Although he was the first college graduate in the family, his

father and his grandfather had both been very skilled cabinet makers.

They traced their family lineage back to the Elizabethan age and had

documented evidence that their ancestors had built beds and chests as

well as chairs and cabinets for the queen.

His grandfather had made most of the trick cabinets for Houdini. They

never thought of themselves as simple carpenters. They were skilled

artisans. If anything, there was a sense of disappointment when Lee

decided to pursue a career in athletics and attend college. The

Overstreets weren't arrogant, but they never suffered a sense of

inferiority. As a result, neither Lee nor his two married sisters were

the kind of people who could suck up to anyone.

Growing up with it all around him, Lee had an eye for quality

craftsmanship.

That's a beautiful mahogany balustrade, he said, looking ahead at the

stairway. The hand-carved railing curved upward.

And we never had to do a thing with it. That's the way it was when we

first bought the house. To your left, Baker said. Lee turned Jessie

gently and they entered the den.

It was a large, cherry wood-paneled room with an oval Persian rug in

front of the long, vermilion leather sofa that faced a matching settee.

Streams of ruby ran through the rug's design. Like the wall paneling,

the side tables and the matching long oval coffee table were cherry

wood. The same was true for the bookcases on the rear wall. In fact,

the only wood that didn't have some shade of red in it was that used to

frame some of the oil paintings, all prints of famous nudes like

Botticelli's Venus and Ingres's nudes.

There were replicas of nude statues as well, including Maillol's Three

Graces. All expressed a fascination with the human body, depicted for

the most part in a sensual manner, except for an expressionistic

painting above the fireplace: Edward Munch's horrendous rendition of a

woman in some agony, her hands on her ears, her mouth a narrow oval as

she obviously screamed.

You can see why we call this the Red Room, Baker quipped. Lee will

explain it to you, he added for Jessie's benefit.

As soon as he spoke, Tracy and Dr. Beezly, who were standing by the

fireplace with their backs to the door, turned. Lee was immediately

surprised by how young Dr. Beezly appeared. From all he had heard

about the man, he had just assumed he was along in his years. But he

looked like a man barely in his late forties, perhaps in his early

fifties.

More important, Dr. Beezly was physically unimpressive He didn't stand

more than five feet five at the most, with features that were so small

as to make him seem almost gnomelike. His black eyes were beady and his

mouth was thin and somewhat feminine. He had rather long, thin black

hair brushed back on the sides and down his neck with strands

disappearing under his collar. Lee thought the man looked like he was

drowning in his double-breasted black suit. Perhaps he had borrowed it

from someone larger and taller, Lee surmised although Lee didn't know

all that much about fashion, he concluded the garment was quite old,

albeit well preserved.

As they drew closer Lee also noticed that the doctor had a somewhat

sallow look made more dramatic by the ebony suit and coal-black hair.

His pale skin caused his orange-tinted lips to seem brighter and his

dark eyes to appear sharp and luminous, reminding Lee of two small hot

coals.

Lee, Jessie, I'd like you to meet our good friend Dr. Beezly, Baker

said.

I'm very pleased finally to have the opportunity to meet the two of you,

Beezly said. He took Jessie's hand first. Lee saw her smile turn

quickly into an expression of curiosity.

Actually it wasn't curiosity as much as it was confusion Shaking

someone's hand, hearing his or her voice usually gave Jessie a sense of

their identity. Dr. Beezly sounded like a man, but she didn't get a

masculine feel. It was as if he were some sort of neuter creature, not

male or female, an essence of something, and not something she

particularly liked.

Dr. Beezly released her hand from his instantly and shook Lee's. Lee

thought he had a rather unremarkable grasp, weak, the fingers feeling as

soft as cotton It was as if the man had bones as thin as those of a

fish. A hard squeeze would shatter his palm and knuckles.

Hi, Jessie, Tracy said, quickly coming up alongside her. They embraced.

Hi. Lee's been describing your home to me. Why didn't you tell me you

had such a lovely house?

Oh, I wanted you to see it for yourself. I mean- I am seeing it, Jessie

said quickly to spare Tracy any embarrassment. Through Lee.

And I promise to take you around myself, Tracy said, and show you every

nook and cranny.

From the way Lee described it, that sounds like an all-night affair.

Tracy laughed.

Champagne all right? Baker asked.

Fine, Lee said. Jess?

Yes, please.

Let me escort you to the sofa, Dr. Beezly said, taking Jessie's hand

and placing it on his forearm.

Feeling his narrow bony arm, Jessie was immediately reminded of her

horrid vision the day Tracy had brought her home. Flashes of that

skeleton digging desperately to uncover its own coffin returned. She

couldn't help uttering a small moan.

Are you all right? Beezly asked quickly.

Yes, thank you. She forced a smile. He led her to the sofa. Thank

you. She made herself comfortable and ran her palm over the soft

leather. This must be a beautiful piece.

It is, Beezly said. So, he continued, taking a seat across from Jessie,

I'm very interested in your impressions of Gardner Town. He looked up

at Lee, who moved to sit beside Jessie.

Well, we haven't been here very long, Lee said.

Diplomatic retreat, Dr. Beezly said, and laughed.

Tracy sat beside him. Bob returned with a tray of champagne and

distributed the glasses.

Small-town life takes a while to get used to, Tracy offered, especially

when you've been brought up close to a place like New York City.

Both of you? Beezly turned back to Lee and Jessie.

Baker put the tray down, but remained standing.

I'm from Queens, Lee said. Jessie's from Westbury on Long Island.

Where did you two meet?

At college, Jessie said, smiling. I was a cheerleader and Lee was a

basketball star.

Oh, I wasn't quite a star, but I did my share to bring home the

trophies.

Note this carefully, Dr. Beezly, Baker said. A modest jock. Quite a

rare animal these days.

Everyone laughed. The door knocker sounded.

Must be Henry and Marge, Baker said. Excuse me.

So you met in college and got married soon after graduation? Dr. Beezly

pursued.

A week after graduation, Lee said. He took Jessie's hand. I had just

locked down a job not far from where Jessie lived. We had just gotten

started really when I became the victim of a state cutback.

Their loss is our gain. There' s an overall plan at work in the

universe, Beezly said, smiling coyly. It gave Lee the jitters, for it

was as if the doctor were somehow part of an overall conspiracy, first

creating an economic crisis in Lee's former school and then . . .

creating an opening here.

Here, here, Henry Young said, entering alongside his wife. I heard what

you said, Doctor, and I'll second that. Beezly stood up to greet

Marjorie Young, a tall woman, almost as tall as Henry. She had short,

light brown hair, which was rather lackluster and cropped around her

ears unevenly, as if done by an amateur hairstylist. In fact, Lee

thought, attention to her feminine appearance was obviously not a

priority for Marjorie Young. She wore only a slight tint of crimson

lipstick, no rouge, no eyeliner or eye shadow. Her gray-and-blue shift

hung on her long body loosely. It had a high collar.

She wore no earrings, no bracelets, only a simple wedding band.

And yet she wasn't a totally unattractive woman. Her dull brown eyes

were nicely shaped. She had a pretty mouth and a straight,

well-proportioned nose. It was her drab complexion and her poor

posture--shoulders turned in, a slight lean--that detracted from what

must have been former statuesque beauty, Lee thought. She barely

smiled. Her gaze wandered about perfunctorily and settled with only the

slightest curiosity on the Overstreets.

Good evening, Marjorie, Dr. Beezly said. She barely smiled at him, but

offered her hand.

The woman looks drugged, Lee thought.

Let me be the one to introduce you, the doctor begged. Marjorie, I'd

like you to meet our two newest residents, Lee and Jessie Overstreet.

Jessie turned and waited. Beezly reached for Jessie's hand to bring it

to Marjorie's. Marjorie's eyes widened with sudden interest as she

realized that Jessie was blind.

How do you do? Jessie said when their fingers touched. Instantly she

felt the woman's fingers tighten. It was a surprising grasp of

desperation, a reaching out.

Hello, Marjorie said. I'm pleased to meet you.

And this is Lee, of whom I am sure you have already heard a great deal.

Or doesn't Henry bring his work home every night?

He brings it home, she said with a clear note of disapproval. How do

you do, she said to Lee.

Pleased to meet you.

Henry, step over here and meet Mrs. Overstreet, Dr. Beezly commanded.

Both Lee and Jessie were impressed with the way he had taken over the

party.

Happy to. Hi there, Mrs. Overstreet.

Please, call me Jessie. I don't want to sound like the oldest person

here.

Everyone laughed.

Henry Young took her hand ad instantly Jessie had the same impression

she'd had when she shook Bob Baker's hand. It felt as if hers cut

through the flesh and clasped the bones, almost as if the flesh were an

illusion. Because Henry Young was Lee's principal, she swallowed her

distaste and let him hold on to her a moment longer.

You don't have to worry about sounding like the oldest person here,

Jessie. Dr. Beezly has that honor, Baker said. Let me get these two

some champagne.

Sit here, Marjorie, Tracy said, patting the seat beside her.

How old are you, Dr. Beezly? Jessie asked quickly.

Lee was surprised at how assertive she sounded.

Well, my dear, he replied, let's just say I was old enough to vote for

Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

Yes, Doctor, but which time? Henry asked, laughing.

That's my secret.

You don't sound old enough to have voted for him anytime, Jessie

pursued.

Why, thank you. It's the good life, the simple life.

Not so simple, from what I hear, Lee said, sipping some champagne.

You've got quite a few patients.

Yes, but fortunately most of them are healthy.

Baker gave the Youngs their champagne.

Well, how about a toast, Doctor? he said.

Absolutely. I propose we toast our new residents, who I hope to see