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Authors: Pamela Grandstaff

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BOOK: Iris Avenue
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Hannah wondered if maybe Caroline was starved for someone to talk to. The simplest question seemed to trigger a chronic bout of verbal diarrhea. Hannah’s attention wandered to the decorations tacked to the walls of the kitchen. One in particular caught her eye.

“Um, Caroline,” Hannah said, as soon as Caroline stopped long enough to take a breath. “Who’s the monster guy?”

She pointed to a large poster on the wall featuring what looked like a fierce, blue man-beast with long, pointy teeth holding a large wheel with his long, pointy claws. Each section of the wheel between the spokes had a little scene of Asian characters in different situations, some of which looked pretty dire.

“That’s Yama, holding the wheel of time,” Caroline said. “He’s a Tibetan Buddhist deity who protects Buddhists. He was a monk who planned to meditate in a cave for fifty years in order to achieve enlightenment. In the last month of the forty-ninth year, robbers brought a stolen bull into his cave and cut off its head. When they realized Yama had seen them do it, they cut off his head as well.”

“No wonder he looks so mad.”

“Yama put on the severed bull’s head and terrorized all of Tibet. Finally Manjushri, Bodhisattva of Wisdom, manifested as an even scarier deity and defeated him. Yama then became a protector of Buddhism.”

“It looks like he’s holding one of those View-Master disks like we had when we were kids.”

“That’s the karmic wheel of life. The six realms represent samsara, into which beings are reborn. The nature of one’s existence is determined by karma, and these are the stages a soul goes through before reaching enlightenment.”

“I though Buddhists were all peaceful and laid back,” Hannah said. “That scene right there looks more like hellfire and brimstone.”

Caroline looked at Hannah as if she were an idiot.

“If you want to learn more, I’d be glad to lend you some books,” Caroline said. “The monks teach a course of study in Zen Buddhism here at the lodge, if you’re interested.”

“No, but thanks anyway,” Hannah said. “I’m currently blacklisted at Sacred Heart and the Methodist Church. No use pissing off the Buddhists as well.”

“It’s very interesting…” Caroline began, but Hannah interrupted, “I’m sorry I can’t chat longer but I need to get started.”

Caroline went to her office to get the key to the garage apartment, and then got sidetracked by a phone call. Hannah looked around the room. The monk who had answered the door came back in, bowed to Hannah and then stood quietly nearby, placid and calm.

“So, no talking, huh?”

He smiled kindly at Hannah and nodded.

“Now, see,” Hannah said, “that alone would keep me from being a good monk. I like to talk too much.”

The man continued to smile benevolently.

“I thought all of you would be Asian,” Hannah said. “I guess that was small-minded of me, thinking every Buddhist would look like the Dalai Lama. You actually look more like my brother Quinn. We’re always wishing Quinn would sit still and shut up for a few days.”

There was a small poster held by magnets on the refrigerator titled “The Five Hindrances” and Hannah gestured to it.

“Things to watch out for?” she said. “Like the seven deadly sins?”

The man nodded.

She read out loud, “Sensual Desire, Ill-Will, Sloth, Worry, and Doubt.”

The monk nodded again.

“Sounds more like Caroline’s to-do list,” Hannah said.

The man’s eyes twinkled, and Hannah thought she detected the telltale signs of suppressed laughter.

“Careful,” she said. “You’ll have to say ten Hail Buddhas if you laugh.”

Caroline came in with the key and everybody bowed to everybody all over again.

“Thanks, so much,” Caroline told Hannah as she handed her the key. “I appreciate your help.”

“Anytime,” Hannah said as she went out. “I’ll bring the key back in a bit.”

As Hannah removed the humane trap from the back of her truck a large, dark sedan came up the curving drive and parked in front of the lodge. Hannah dawdled so she could see who was in it. She was surprised to see bank president and political ass-kisser Knox Rodefeffer exit the vehicle and hurry up the steps to Caroline’s front door.

Knox was a large, ungainly man with blinding white capped teeth and an unconvincing toupee. Although she personally found him horribly unattractive, Hannah had heard that his sexy secretary was also his mistress. Knox loved to name-drop his political connections and brag about his trips to Washington, D.C. If Rose Hill was a small pond, Knox was one of the biggest bottom feeders.

Hannah wondered what business he had with Caroline Eldridge, and concluded he must be trying to get Caroline to put money in his bank, or to write a big fat check to one of his political cronies. Caroline had pledged to provide a match for a grant application Hannah and Drew were writing, to start a feral cat program and build a no kill animal shelter. Hannah hoped Caroline hadn’t forgotten about that, and thought she might mention it again before she left.

Hannah set the trap for the raccoon family and then poked around the eaves until she found where they were getting in and out. She took the key to the apartment back to the lodge house and saw that Knox’s car was gone.

When she rang the doorbell a different monk answered. This man was tall with cocoa-colored skin and warm, friendly brown eyes. He too wore the camouflage undergarments that seemed so bizarre underneath the orange one-shouldered robe. He backed bowing to the kitchen and Hannah followed. He led her through the kitchen to Theo’s old study where Caroline Eldridge sat staring at a stack of paperwork that looked like contracts.

“Sorry to bother you,” Hannah said.

Caroline obviously hadn’t heard her enter the room; she jumped, startled, and quickly covered up the paperwork.

“No bother at all,” she said.

Caroline’s eyes darted back and forth from Hannah to the paperwork on the desk. She offered Hannah some herbal tea, and Hannah, whose terminal nosiness compensated for her dislike of healthy food, accepted. As Caroline led her back into the kitchen, she started talking again. Hannah sat down at the kitchen table, plopped her elbows on top, and rested her chin on her hands. She knew she might as well get comfy.

“I’m hosting the monks because their temple burned down in a California wildfire and their abbot died,” Caroline said. “The woman who’d been taking care of them basically dumped them on my doorstep and ran back to California. She said they did nothing but meditate, chant, eat, and sleep. I thought they would be easy to take care of.”

“Like a large bowl of Buddhist fish,” Hannah suggested, but Caroline wasn’t listening.

“The actual amount of work involved is overwhelming,” Caroline said. “I hired staff to take over most of the household work. That’s made a huge difference, but an expensive one. I hate bookkeeping or anything to do with finances, but I finally sat down this morning with a calculator and a stack of bills, and I can’t continue on this way indefinitely. Sacrifices will have to be made.”

Hannah thought to herself, ‘There goes my grant match.’

“But what can I give up?” Caroline said as she poured hot water over what looked like a handful of dried sticks and leaves. “I’m not giving up Callie; she’s a vegan chef and prepares all the meals, plus she does all the shopping and cleaning up afterward. I’m not giving up Petula; she cleans the lodge and washes all the sheets and towels, which in itself is a full-time job. And I’m certainly not getting rid of Sven; he takes care of the grounds and keeps all the vehicles running, including the snow blower and the truck with the plow blade. I can’t do this without them.”

Caroline poured Hannah a cup of tea from a pretty porcelain teapot and sat opposite her at the table. Hannah considered the vegetation floating in her cup and decided not to risk it.

“I thought you had a big trust fund,” Hannah said. “Didn’t Theo leave you some money?”

“Theo’s bequest will be tied up in probate for at least a year,” Caroline said. “The majority of my family trust payments are pledged to other charities.”

“What will you do?” Hannah asked, mustering up her most sympathetic look.

A quiet rustling sound and a slight stir of the air caused them both to look up, and they saw one of the monks standing in the doorway opposite. He bowed to Caroline and Hannah. Caroline turned, then rose and responded in kind.

The monk handed Caroline a note, which she read to herself.

“Fine,” she said, although Hannah detected more than a little irritation in her tone. The man bowed his way back the way he came in.

“It’s a list of more supplies they need,” Caroline said as she sat back down. “Please excuse me while I say a quick positive affirmation to release the negative feelings I’m having.”

“Sure,” Hannah said. “Knock yourself out.”

“I am one with the universe,” Caroline chanted. “Omni padme ohm.”

She repeated this several times before she opened her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Feel better?” Hannah said.

“I expected when I offered to host the group that I’d spend my days meditating and chanting with them,” Caroline said. “Unfortunately there’s more to do than there are hours in a day, and by the time my chores are done I’m too exhausted to meditate without falling asleep.”

“So kick them out,” Hannah said. “You tried and it didn’t work out. They’re grown men; they should be able to look after themselves.”

“This is a test,” Caroline said. “I need to let go of my ego’s need to be rewarded in some way for my efforts. I need to be more selfless. I need to let go of my attachment to outcomes.”

“They need to let go of their attachment to being waited on hand and foot,” Hannah said, “while you pay the bills.”

“I need to meditate on this,” Caroline said. “My inner guide will tell me what to do.”

“How do you do that, exactly?” Hannah asked. “Meditate, I mean.”

“I’ll show you,” Caroline said.

She kicked off her clogs, retrieved a special cushion, and sat cross-legged on the floor.

“I clear my mind of my left brain chatter,” she said. “I repeat my mantra, over and over; the first part with each breath in, the second part with each breath out. I picture a pinpoint of light in my solar plexus, and concentrate on growing it with each breath, until I fill my entire body with radiant white light.”

Caroline narrated her progress as Hannah watched. She described the light radiating out from deep within her rib cage, slowly moving outward, growing brighter and stronger as it spread throughout her body. She’d got only as far as her elbows and knees when she was interrupted again.

“Excuse me,” someone said.

Caroline sighed and opened her eyes. The interrupter was Petula, the female half of the tall, blonde Scandinavian husband and wife team who looked after the house and grounds.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but one of the upstairs toilets has overflowed,” she said. “I turned off the water supply at the base, but there’s a huge mess. Sven’s in Rose Hill picking up supplies, Callie’s shopping for groceries, and I have the rest of the bedrooms and bathrooms to clean before they break for lunch. Could you help me?”

Caroline took a few deep breaths and stretched her neck to each side before she rose and accepted the mop and bucket Petula was holding.

“Are you angry?” Petula asked her, with real fear in her voice.

“No,” Caroline said, “of course not. Anger is a poison and an obstacle to enlightenment.”

“I hated to interrupt,” Petula said, “but if I get off schedule now I’ll never get caught up.”

“It’s no problem,” Caroline told her with a tight smile. “I appreciate all you do. I am blessed by your work. Namaste.”

Petula crept out and Hannah offered to help. Caroline seemed sincerely grateful as she accepted the offer.

As Caroline mopped up the sewage that covered the bathroom floor, Hannah carried the buckets to the nearest working toilet. She could hear Caroline muttering something.

“What’s that you’re saying?” Hannah said.

“My loving-kindness mantra,” Caroline replied. “It helps me remember to love myself and have compassion for others.”

“If I were you I’d be chanting the bus schedule back to wherever they came from,” Hannah said.

 

 

Maggie Fitzpatrick walked across the street from her bookstore to the grocery store to pick up some milk for the cappuccino bar. Inside the small store she was surprised to see Anne Marie Rodefeffer, who had been in a serious car accident back in January. After Anne Marie woke up from her coma and was recovered enough to travel, her husband, Knox, whisked her away on a cruise, which he seemed to keep extending.

It was no secret Knox had rabid political aspirations. Anne Marie, with her drug problems and penchant for seducing college boys, had been a constant source of embarrassment to her husband. Although he had an airtight alibi, he was still suspected of arranging for his wife’s accident.

“Maggie!” Anne Marie called out to her, in a much more friendly tone than she’d ever used before.

The tall attractive blonde ran over to Maggie and gave her a tight hug, which surprised her. Anne Marie had always snubbed her or looked down her nose at Maggie before her accident.

BOOK: Iris Avenue
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ads

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