The Eyes of Midnight
By Mark Holtzclaw
“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see” - Mark Twain
Copyright 2013 Mark Holtzclaw
ISBN: 9781301600083
The movement of the train lulled her into a reverie, as she gazed at the passing countryside. Each weekday, Karen Bishop took this train to the sleepy hamlet of Sunny Brook where she interned as a teacher's aide. There she assisted with twelve preschool children at Lilliput Elementary. But now, this had come to an end as summer began to blossom around her. The children would be out for their vacation and Karen would have this enormous void of spare time.
She had lived all her life in Valley Home with her parents and her brother, Stephen. After graduating from the local community college, Karen moved across town, taking residence at Belle's Boarding House.
Here, at the fresh age of twenty-two, she was quite content to be on her own at last and live her own life. As she appraised her reflection in the carriage window, she saw a pathetic girl with a plain face looking back at her. It never won any admirers, but longed for love just the same. She was kind and considerate and had a good heart. Though nobody found the time or gave her an opportunity to return that love. Though appearing not to notice this, she withdrew into her work at the school. The busy days of spring had come and gone, and now only the empty nights of summer silence waited. All she had left to occupy her time was her poetry, and the hope that someday a mysterious stranger would come into her life. But Karen knew that this only happened to beautiful people; those elegant movie stars that were born by writers of happy endings. There were no storybook picket fences looming in her future.
From the second-story window of the boarding house, Karen could see the shops and service station across the street. These were her stomping grounds, the place she had grown into and graduated from. Though her parents and younger brother were visiting some out of state relations, she felt a peace being here. As if the town itself was an ever-present family member, with its familiar tapestry of storefronts, peppered with pleasant people. Yes, she felt welcome here and it was home, though no secret admirer dwelled within its bosom.
Karen retired for bed and allowed the tides of night to swallow the room. Her thoughts returned to the mysterious man. And in the landscape of dreams, the imaginary lover waited for her in a sanctuary of shadows. He cradled her closely in the moonlight and massaged away her fears. He kissed her passionately and told her how lovely she was. For this faceless stranger looked past her outward appearance and beheld her inner beauty. And somehow her thoughts melted away into real dreams as she sailed the sleepy shores of slumber.
A sound awakened her. What was it? Could it be a night bird? Or perhaps it was the cry of a child? She looked around and noticed that she was no longer in bed. But standing by the window looking down at the avenue etched in purples stains of twilight.
It had been several months since the last time she walked in her sleep. Dr. Hamlin told her these disruptions were likely caused by fears - like living alone. Three months of summer lay ahead of her on the calendar. Empty weeks waiting with no appointments assigned to, no friends to fill them with, and she disliked having nothing to do. She could work on her poetry. Though writing down her feelings might work against her, to echo those feelings of loneliness.
So she went back to bed and slept until the morning dawned.
Saturday morning arrived and she grabbed the newspaper and a cup of coffee to greet the day. Karen fixed her ritual of buttered toast with the daily news. Stuffing her senses simultaneously with food and information. There was an article about a small town that was abandoned because of a flood. How sad for all those people having to evacuate their homes.
Karen laid the paper aside, then sipped and drank the aroma of fresh brewed coffee. It brought back memories of her childhood. Memories of her mother preparing breakfast in that quaint house on Market Street, which had been since repaved with a new shopping center.
She picked up the paper and glanced at the miscellaneous listings in the back. People selling items or looking for lost animals. Then one particular notice grabbed her attention. It simply said:
Seeking someone to look after my handicapped grandson for the summer
How very odd that there was no address, phone number or even an email provided. And there was no mention of compensation.
Looking after children was Karen's specialty at Lilliput Elementary. This would be an ideal way to spend her summer months. She could keep occupied and earn money at the same time.
Karen picked up her cell phone and tapped the number of the newspaper and asked for the personnel department.
"Hi there, I'm calling regarding an ad that was placed in today's paper. There was no contact information."
The phone was quiet for a moment.
"Oh, you're referring to the one about the grandson. Yes, the woman who ran that ad specifically wanted her information to remain private."
"Well, I am an assistant teacher and would love to get more information regarding this position if possible."
"No problem, miss. We just need you to come down and fill out some references for consideration and you'll be contacted if you're chosen."
She hung up the phone and looked back at the article quizzically. Why would anyone be so mysterious for such a simple position?
Karen did not have a car, so she took a bus to the newspaper office. While she rode, she mused about the advertisement and what exactly she was getting herself into. Of course, there was also the possibility that she would not get the position.
After arriving at the office, she filled out the paperwork and then walked to a local eatery and treated herself to a burger and fries.
A few days passed and still there was no response regarding the summer job. Surely she could entertain the child by reading stories.
Karen needed to get some fresh air. Between checking her email and waiting for a call, she had forgotten her laundry. So she began to work on a pile of clothes when her cell phone vibrated.
Karen nearly dropped the phone as she yanked it from her pocket.
"Hello?"
"May I speak to Karen Bishop?" a voice inquired.
It spoke slow and precisely, like an elderly woman.
"This is she." Karen got excited. This must be the response she was waiting for. Would she be the candidate for this position?
"Hi Karen," the voice continued. "My name is Maude Waverly. I live with my grandson, Drew in Maryvale. I see you are in Valley Home."
"Yes, that's correct.”
"Do you have transportation, my dear?"
Karen's heart suddenly sunk in her chest. If this was a prerequisite for the position, than she would never even be considered.
"No, I'm sorry. I use the local transit system."
There was silence on the other end of the phone that seemed to linger for an eternity.
"Well, if you're able to obtain transportation, than perhaps we could meet for an interview, say tomorrow?"
Karen's stomach fluttered.
"Tomorrow?" she echoed. "That would be fine, Mrs. Waverly."
"Please call me Maude," the woman replied.
"Yes ma'am, I mean Maude. What is your address?"
"Do you have something to write on?"
"Just a moment…" Karen reached for the marker hanging from the dry erase board on the freezer.
"Okay, I'm ready now."
"It's 2732 Penfield Lane, in Maryvale."
Karen repeated the address back to her, and then asked for her phone number and wrote that down.
"What time would you like me to be there, Maude?"
"Would 10:00 a.m. work for you?"
"Yes, that would be fine. And thank you!" she added.
Karen opened her laptop and logged onto the boarding house's local Wi-Fi. She mapped out the woman's location and chose the closest route to Maryvale. Then she marked down the time on the wall calendar.
That night Karen slept without any dreams, nor incidents of sleepwalking. She awoke to birdsong and sunshine. And so June the fifth began like any other day in early summer. The heather and marigolds were in bloom with the perfume of jasmine scenting the warm morning.
Karen boarded the local bus and began her journey, wondering what new things she would discover. She gazed out the window at the passing fields which gave way to rural farmlands and sprawling countryside.
What she knew so far was this: An elderly woman, by the name of Maude Waverly wanted someone to look after her grandson, Drew in Maryvale. And from what Karen could see of her destination on Google Maps, it was a solitary tree-shaded avenue with no sign of any visible residence.
But now as she got off the bus, Karen wondered how she would find a house that didn't exist. After walking for several minutes she came to an intersection.
Penfield Lane was a small quiet thoroughfare with shady pines and evergreens. It was like a nature trail devoid of any signs of life. Wild poppies grew in patches along the side of the road. And just when Karen arrived at where the house should be, she was met with a strand of majestic spruce.
"Can I help you?"
She turned and saw a man holding a pair of garden shears. He appeared to have been trimming a hedge.
"Hi there, I'm looking for the Waverly place.”
The man nodded his head in the direction of the spruce trees.
"There's a small road just there." he pointed.
Karen bent sideways and examined the place he was gesturing and saw a dirt path.
"Thank you." She turned and followed the walkway into the trees. Karen felt as though she was entering a small forest. The smell reminded her of the mountains and she could hear the sound of a stream nearby.
The trees gave way to a beautiful open land with fields, gardens, and a cherub fountain. In the midst of all this was an exquisite Victorian house with gables.
Karen felt she had stepped into a fantasy realm or fairy land inhabited by characters that could only dwell in fiction. When she passed through the trees, she must have left the real world behind. Indeed, it was surreal, but in a beautiful way.
In a meadow, an old-fashioned gazebo sunned itself in the early afternoon. Ivy climbed and weaved itself through the faded roof. There, an elderly woman sat in a wicker chair sipping from her teacup. The white-haired woman looked up and with her free hand, waved at Karen to come over.
Karen walked to the gazebo and sat down in the empty chair opposite the woman.
"So you must be Karen." She set her cup down on the table. "Would you like some tea, my dear?"
"No thank you."
"Well, did you have any problems finding us?"
"No, there was a gardener in the road."
The old woman nodded.
"That would be Roger. He's actually an old friend who's sort of a handyman."
Then the woman appraised her carefully.
"Well, you look younger than you sounded on the phone. I'm sure you and my grandson will do nicely together."
"Is your grandson here? Karen asked.
Maude turned her head to the east.
"Yes, he's resting now in his cottage, behind that grove."
Karen saw a gathering of small willows around a pond. She was captivated by the sheer size of acreage on the property.
"I'll introduce you to him in a bit. Drew will be getting up for lunch soon. First, let me show you around and maybe answer any questions you might have for me."
Maude rose and gestured for Karen to follow her.
"I've lived here most of my life. My husband built this house after we were first married fifty years ago. Gerard was the captain of a steam boat, which was how we met. The cottage was constructed for my daughter, Anne. She grew up and later married a congressman, John Lamont and moved to the east coast. There they had a son named Drew. "
Maude paused to watch Karen before continuing.
"Drew came to live here with me when he was only four. He believes his parents are both dead. You see, I could never tell him that he was abandoned."
Karen was shocked by this news.
"I don't understand." she said.
"Well, it has to do with my son-in-law and his career. He needed the full support of his wife when he ran for office and then later on when he became congressman."
Karen frowned, still not comprehending why they would abandon their own flesh and blood. And her heart broke for this young boy.
Maude went on to explain.
"They never planned on having any children. Drew was unexpected, and even more so, because of his infirmity."
Then Karen recalled the word "handicapped" in the article.
"My poor grandson was born blind. I do the best I can do to look after him, but it’s getting more difficult for an old lady like me. That's when I decided to place the ad in the paper."
Karen nodded.
"You mentioned that the position was for the summer."
"Yes, my grandson attends a special school for the blind in Maryvale."
They had arrived at the edge of a grove of willows trees. Their branches extended over the pond, leaves like teardrops weeping into the water.
Then Karen glimpsed a gingerbread-like cottage beyond them.
Maude checked her wrist watch.
"Well, he might be awake now."
She led Karen around the pond and through the grove over to a modest cottage. Indeed, it looked like something from Hansel and Gretel. The architecture was quaint and resembled a life-sized doll house.
Maude peeked into the window and then glanced back at Karen. Then stepping onto the porch, she motioned for Karen to join her. Knocking on the door, they waited.
"Is he expecting me?" Karen whispered.
The old woman inclined her head.
"It was all he could talk about last night."
Karen was concerned that she could never meet his expectations.
The knob turned suddenly and then the door swung inward. A young dark-haired man stood in the doorway. He wore a long sleeve white shirt with a gray sweater vest and slacks. She could not see his eyes since they were covered by a pair of black sunglasses. But she was struck by his handsome features and chiseled jawline. He looked like he had stepped out of a celebrity magazine, for he seemed perfect in every way.
"Good morning," Maude acknowledged, "We have a guest with us today." Then turning to her, she said. "Karen, this is my grandson, Drew Lamont."
"It's good to meet you." Karen said. She started to extend her hand, but stopped.
"Please, come inside." Drew opened the door fully, standing to the side.
Karen entered the cottage and noted the wooden floor and white paneled walls and ceiling.
"Have a seat," Drew gestured to the small sofa by the stone fireplace.
After Karen took her seat, he came over and sat beside her.
Then Maude spoke up.
"Why don't the two you get acquainted, while I get some sandwiches."
Karen was afraid of being alone with this man, and was intimidated by his good looks. She usually felt threatened by others who she perceived as superior in some way.
Maude left and closed the door leaving the two of them alone together.
Drew's face turned in her direction.
"So it's Karen, is that right?
She caught herself nodding her head, but had forgotten that he could not see her.
"Yes, I'm Karen Bishop."
"So tell me, Karen Bishop. How did you come to respond to my grandmother's advertisement?"
Karen's heart quickly rose into her throat.
"We
ll, I take care of children at a nursery school during the school year, and I was looking for something to keep me busy during summer vacation. And when I read your grandmother's ad…”
She paused and felt embarrassed, not able to finish her statement. So Drew began where she left off.
"When you read my grandmother's ad, you thought that I was just a child that needed looking after. Not someone who is turning twenty-five in one week.
"Oh, so your birthday is coming up?" Karen asked.
"Yeah, it's June the twelfth, and you are invited. In fact, it will just be you, my grandmother and Dalice."
Karen pricked up at the mention of the unique sounding name.
"Who is Dalice?"
Drew smiled.
"I guess you could say she's my girlfriend. We met at the blind school that I attend, and like you, she has her sight. Dalice works in the cafeteria and we've been together for quite a while now."
This somehow relieved Karen from the feeling that she had to compete.
A mahogany mantle clock on the fireplace began to chime. Karen looked up and saw that it was already eleven o' clock.
"So Karen, what things do you like to do? Outside of work, that is."
Karen drew in a deep breath in thought.
"I enjoy reading and writing poetry."
"Ah, so you're a poet," Drew commented. "Can you bring some of your writing and share it with me sometime?"
"Well, it really isn't that good." Karen said sheepishly. Though, truth be told, she was ashamed to read her poetry because of its personal nature. It would deflower who she really was, and reveal that lonely person inside of her.
"We'll see," Karen said. "So what exactly will we be doing together?"
A smile spread across his face and he lowered his voice.
"Remember, what we do together, we can't tell grandmother."
Karen blushed and became silent.
"I'm sorry," Drew shook his head, "that was rude of me. You've just met me, and you don't know my peculiar sense of humor. Seriously though, we can spend time talking, taking walks, this place is pretty big, or so they tell me. And if you like, you can read me your favorite book. Do you have a favorite book?"
"Not really, but I like some of the old fairy tales like "The Snow Queen."
"Ah, so you're a romantic, huh?" Drew stood up and walked a few paces to a bookcase. His fingers searched the bindings until he found a particular title and withdrew it from the shelf.
"Like this one?" he said handing her the book upside down.