In All Deep Places (19 page)

Then a thought occurred to me, so surprising that I snapped my wet eyes open and pulled my hands away from my ears. For the
first time in my life I saw that Nell and I really weren’t so dif
ferent from each other in what we longed for.

My pastor had read something in church on Sunday. It was a strange verse from Ecclesiastes, one I’d never heard before. It had intrigued me then and it pricked me now as I remembered it:

He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end.

The words of the ancient scripture tumbled around in my head
as below me Nell wept.

He has also set eternity in the hearts of men.

Eternity in the hearts of men.

Nell longed for Paradise. So did I. We were meant to. The desire to be where God dwells had been imbedded in my being. And in hers, too, though I knew she didn’t know it.

That’s why it felt so close, just next door. Just above us.

That’s why I longed for Paradise.

T
here were no letters, no phone calls, nothing tangible to remind me I had a friend named Norah, if that is indeed
what she was. My parents did not speak of her or Kieran, possibly because they figured I was angry with Nell and they didn’t want to intensify the anger by reminding me of what she’d done. I
was
angry with her, but my parents did not know that the anger was
daily giving way to a strange, compassionless pity.

That winter, my father asked Ethan instead of me to shovel
Nell’s driveway when snow covered it, and it was Ethan who helped
our dad put up her storm windows. I didn’t mind keeping my distance. It was sadly refreshing.

At Christmas, my parents again took the family to Florida, and this time when we returned there were no footprints in the snow
to indicate Norah and Kieran had been to Halcyon for the holi
days. Nell was gone, too, when we got back. Perhaps she’d gone to Albert Lea to spend Christmas and New Year’s with Eleanor and
her grandchildren but there was no way to know for sure. When
she came home on the third of January, there was nothing about her mute, aloof presence to indicate where she had been. She was
simply not there one minute and there the next.

Basketball, working at the paper, and helping my mother with
the spring play did for me what I hoped—kept me crazily
busy. The long winter months and muddy pre-spring weeks passed
quickly.

My new circle of friends decided to go to the prom, which was on the third Saturday in May, as a group, but they agreed to pair off for the Grand March, which was always held in the high-school
gym before the prom actually got started. At the urging of one of the other guys in the group, I asked Patti to accompany me, and she had promptly said she would love to.

The evening of the prom was balmy and slightly breezy, near perfect. Mom got all misty-eyed when I came downstairs in a black tuxedo a few minutes before three.

“I can’t believe how handsome you look!” she gushed. “Jack,
look at our son!”

“Mom, please,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

“You look downright respectable,” Dad said, smiling.

“Now, you’re coming right back here so I can take pictures, right?” Mom continued.

“Yes, we’re coming right back.”

“Don’t forget Patti’s corsage in the fridge!”

“I won’t.”

Ethan was sitting on the arm of the couch, watching.

“You look like you’re going to somebody’s funeral,” he said.

I pushed him back onto the cushions as I walked past him into
the kitchen. “You better watch it, Ethan. It just might be yours.”

“Luke!” my mother exclaimed, but laughed as she said it.

After getting the corsage, I headed out to the garage.

“Now, come right back so I can take pictures!” my mom reminded me from the back-porch steps.

“Maybe, maybe not,” I said, winking at my dad. I got into the Dart, which had been waxed and polished until the chrome
shone like mirrors, and drove the six blocks to Patti’s house. As I pulled up into the Carmichaels’ driveway, Patti was standing in the
front by a lilac bush, wearing a blush-pink gown that seemed to
swirl like water when she moved. Her mother had a camera in her hand and was snapping away while her father gave posing advice. Patti had her hair swept up into a bunchy pile except for a
few stray ringlets about her face, and there were tiny rhinestones
peeking out of the curls on the top of her head. I wondered how
they stayed there. She looked very nice, and I knew I should tell her so. But I felt awkward saying anything with her parents standing right there.

“Luke!” Patti’s mother turned to me.. “Don’t you look dashing? Oh, won’t you two make a handsome couple! Now, come
on over here, and let’s get some pictures!”

I walked over in my shiny rented shoes and handed Patti the
box with a wrist corsage of pink tea roses.

“Pink. Like you wanted,” I said softly.

“They’re beautiful!” she whispered back, taking the corsage
out.

“I can get that.” Her dad stepped forward and took the box from her.

He backed away, and she slipped the corsage over her hand.

“You look really nice,” I managed to say.

“So do you,” she whispered.

“Okay! Turn this way and smile!” her mother said.

After ten minutes of smiling, posing, and feeling rather silly,
Patti’s parents announced they were finished taking pictures and that they’d see us at the Grand
March in a little while.

I helped Patti get into the car—as Mrs. Carmichael took shot after shot—and we drove back down the street. Pulling up to my house, I could see Nell had just arrived home from somewhere. She was getting out of her car. And so was someone else. And then someone else. It was Norah and Kieran. Patti saw them, too.

“Oh my gosh, Luke! It’s Norah!” she said as we pulled into my driveway.

An odd feeling of nausea, heat, and anticipation washed over me as I put the car in park. Norah was here. She was staring at the car as I shut off the engine. Nell had a suitcase in her hand and was stepping inside the house with it.

I got out of the car, almost dreading walking around to get Patti’s door. Norah was watching us. It was impossible to read her face.

“Norah!” I said from across the roof of the car, attempting to sound cool and confident as I walked around it. But Patti was al
ready opening her own door. I almost thanked her for doing it.

“Norah! You’re here!” Patti said, running over to her as best
she could in high heels. Patti wrapped her arms around her, and it seemed Norah hesitated a moment before returning the hug. As I watched them, I noted that Norah hadn’t changed much in the nine months she’d been gone. Her hair was longer, fuller. She
seemed
taller, too. But next to Patti, it was obvious she hadn’t actu
ally gained an inch. It was strange.

“Luke!” Kieran ran over to me. “Are you getting married?”
Kieran was looking at my tuxedo, worry and awe etched on his face.

“No! I am not getting married. I’m just going to the prom.”

“What’s a prom?” he asked, looking like he was imagining pain was somehow involved.

“It’s just dinner and a dance,” I said, watching as Patti and
Norah broke away from each other.

“Why is Patti’s hair like that?” Kieran whispered, leaning in
close.

“Uh…well, it’s supposed to make her look pretty and grownup.”

“Oh. Is Ethan home?”

“Yeah. Sure. Go on in.”

Kieran walked away from me, and I walked over to the
girls.

“How’ve you been?” I said to Norah. I wanted to
give her a hug, too. But not in a tux. Not with Patti standing there. Not while Norah was looking at me like she was right then.

“Okay,” she said, studying my face like she was memorizing it.

“How long are you and Kieran here?”

She blinked. “For good.”

“Really?” Patti said enthusiastically.

Dumbfounded, I waited for Norah to confirm it.

“Eleanor’s daughter found out she’s expecting triplets. She has two little kids already and is now supposed to be on bed rest until she delivers. Eleanor s moving to Nevada to live with them.”

“Oh!” Patti said. “Well, I’m so glad you’re coming back. We’ve
missed you.”

Norah turned to me when Patti said this. “I’ve missed you guys, too.”

An awkward pause followed.

“So you guys must be going to the prom,” Norah said, her face
expressionless.

“Yeah,” I said, feeling strangely like I should apologize.

“Oh, I wish you’d come home sooner! You could have gone with us!” Patti said.

“With you?”

“We’re all going together! Luke, me, Tracy, Brendan, Max, Ca
mille… everybody.”

“Oh,” Norah said, looking at my glistening patent-leather shoes.

“You want to come to Grand March? You can see everybody!”
Patti continued.

Norah seemed preoccupied. “No, thanks. I really need to help
Grandma get our rooms ready. This happened kind of sudden.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Well, I guess we’ll see you later, then?” I said, not wanting
to stand there another minute with Norah’s odd gaze on me.

“Yeah.”

I turned and walked back toward my house with Patti at my
side. I could feel Norah’s eyes
on me through the smooth-fitting
black back of my jacket.

Over the next few days I slowly readjusted to the notion of
Norah being back. It seemed to take longer this time, and I wasn’t
sure why. Perhaps it was because she’d said she was in Halcyon for good, and deep down I didn’t believe it.

She and Kieran had moved back at a very strange time—two
weeks before school got out. By the time they got registered for classes there were only ten days left. I didn’t see Norah often during those ten days, and when I did, she seemed distant, like she was still in Minnesota. Or perhaps somewhere else altogether. On the last day of May, my parents threw a birthday party for me,
and it wasn’t until the final hours of the party that I finally saw a bit of the old Norah. As my friends and I sat around playing movie charades at one in the morning she laughed, and it was the sound of her laughter that reminded me of earlier years.

The next day, a Sunday, my mother invited Norah and Kieran to supper, just like old times. As they were getting ready to leave af
terward, Norah turned to me, and after making sure no one was watching her, she made the sign to meet me in the tree house
.

At ten, I went out there. As I eased myself inside, I could
see she was already there.

“Hey,” I said, crossing my legs and leaning against the wall across from her.

“Hey.”

A few seconds of silence passed between us.

“So, did you need to talk to me about something?” I asked.

“No.”

I waited.

“I just wanted to know if you still came here. If you still came
to the tree house.”

“Yeah, sometimes I do.”

“Okay. I just wanted to know.”

Silence.

“Kieran doing okay?”

“He’ll be fine.”

I asked no more questions, and neither did she.

June arrived with clouds, mosquitoes, and humidity. Afternoons at Goose Pond often ended in thunderstorms that sent kids
and parents running for cover. There was talk among the farmers
that something bad was brewing. Some bought extra hail insur
ance. Some put off buying a new implement. Some began to pray.

On a particularly cloudy Wednesday afternoon, while my parents were in Cedar Rapids buying a new refrigerator, I
agreed to help Ethan change the furniture around in his room. I had nothing better to do, and it looked like it was going to start pouring outside anyway.

About four-thirty, just after we’d moved Ethan’s bed from the south wall of his room to the east one, the sky turned an odd shade of brown, and the room fell into shadow. A wind had begun to tug
at the leaves outside. I switched on the bedroom light.

“Looks like a bad one.” Ethan walked over to the window and looked out.

I joined him. “Yeah.” Off in the distance a thickening wall of black clouds appeared to be moving toward us. “I think
I’ll go close the garage door.”

I sprinted down the stairs, amazed at how dark the living room was for four-thirty in the afternoon. Ethan was right behind me. We stepped outside. The air was breezy and sticky at the
same time. The black wall of thunderclouds was inching forward.
We walked quickly over to the garage door and pulled it closed. I noticed Nell’s garage door was open, too. Her car was gone, of
course, as she was working her shift at the paint factory. I walked
over and started to pull her garage door down. A strong gust
swept up around me to challenge me. I yanked harder.
The wind answered back.

“Better get inside,” I yelled to Ethan as I managed to pull the door
closed. I didn’t like the look of what was coming. As the words left my mouth, the civil-defense siren five blocks away began to wail.