When We Were Saints (21 page)

Archie had never seen such a change in a person as he was seeing in Irving. The man who had seemed so old and frail the night before suddenly appeared spry and energetic. He moved around the kitchen, pulling spices from one cabinet and oil from another as though he were a young man. He asked one of the boys to toss him a pretzel, and he ducked and caught it like a pro. He laughed at himself and told Archie and Clare to try to do it, too. Clare tried and got hit in the face with a pretzel. Archie didn't feel like playing. He stuck his hand in the bowl and grabbed as many nuggets as his hand would hold. He stuffed the pretzels into his mouth, and the boys, watching him, decided they would see how many nuggets they could fit into their mouths at once. Their mother told them that was a bad idea, so they went back to their tossing game.

The family stayed for dinner that night, and even Archie's mood improved when he saw how happy having company made Irving. He sat at the head of his table like a king, and told Archie and Clare all about his afternoon tutoring the children. "There are so many young boys and girls there, and they all wanted me to help them with their homework. Some of them tried to get me to do it for them, but I didn't fall for their tricks."

"Mrs. Willis will do it," Joel said. "I can get her to give me all the answers."

"Then she gets smarter and you don't," Irving said. "Don't you want to grow up and be smart?"

"I want to make a million dollars," Joel answered, stuffing a large bite of macaroni-and-cheese into his mouth.

"Then you'll need to be smart."

After Irving had told them more about his first afternoon with the children, he again asked Clare and Archie about their afternoon. Clare described the tapestries for the boys, going into even greater detail about their mysteries. The two boys sat still and listened wide-eyed while she told them about the magical unicorn, hunted for the long horn that grew in the middle of its forehead. Archie sat across from Clare and watched her just as entranced as the boys. To him she was beautiful, even if she had grown thinner and so pale. Her eyes still looked soft and beautiful surrounded by her dark lashes. When she spoke to the boys, her face was animated, and she used her hands to gesture and emphasize what she was saying. Her movements were so graceful, Archie thought that if they were put to music it would look like a dance. He watched her all evening as she worked her magic, first on the two boys and then on their mother.

At first Archie had worried that Lizzie had been too curious about their pilgrimage. She had asked too many questions, wanting to know where they were from and what their parents thought of their going to New York all alone and how long they were staying or what hotel they were going to be staying in or did they need a place to stay.

Archie had stammered out lame replies, but Clare had handled Lizzie's questions the way she did everything else, and soon enough she had put Lizzie off the subject of their pilgrimage and onto Lizzie's own story about the way her husband had walked out on her and the boys. Clare had known just what to say, just how to love the woman and her sons, and by the end of the meal, Archie could see that they loved her, too.

After everyone except Clare had eaten the dessert of ice cream and cake, and everyone had helped wash the dishes, Lizzie cut Clare's hair: Archie had missed their conversation about hair and was surprised when they disappeared and then returned half an hour later with Clare sporting a new cut. It was a funny, bowl-like cut that looked just like Joel's and Jacob's, and Archie couldn't help but laugh at Clare. She looked like a clown, with her new thick bangs hanging low over her eyebrows. Lizzie laughed, too, and said it was the only cut she knew how to do.

Irving said Clare would look beautiful even if she were bald, and everyone agreed, especially Archie, who thought maybe he would stay in New York after all. How could he ever desert Clare? He loved her too much. He knew he'd follow her anywhere. What did anything else matter? If she had faith that everything would work out all right, then so did he. He felt honored to be the one she had chosen for her soul mate.
I must have something good in me,
he thought,
that she would choose me.

After Lizzie and the boys left and the other three hugged and said good night to one another, Archie went off to the study at the end of the hallway and decided he would stay up and pray, no matter the emptiness inside or the demons that might be lurking.

He turned off the light and sat on the sofa, staring out the window. He thought he would see the moon and stars, but it wasn't like at home up on the mountain, where the stars looked so close and clean There were too many streetlights, and cars still drove past the house in a stream as though it were daytime and not eleven at night. He watched the cars awhile, then turned away from the window to begin his prayers. He asked God to forgive him and told God that he would believe no matter what. He prayed for Clare and for their plans to stay, and he prayed for his grandmother and decided he would call home and let everyone know his plans as soon as he knew them himself. He knew if he really intended to stay with Clare, he shouldn't go home, even for a visit, or his grandmother would keep him there and he would feel obligated to stay. His mind flashed on the image of her lying in the hospital bed, with the oxygen tank and all the machines surrounding her and he felt a most uncomfortable pressure in his stomach. He hated the thought of his grandmother lying in a hospital bed. It frightened him too much to think about it, and he decided it was best if he put his grandmother completely out of his mind.

Archie ignored his stomach and returned to his old prayer Be
still and know that I am God.
He stayed with it for a time, but then his mind drifted to Clare and he felt his body go warm. He loved her he realized, like no other person. She was like no other person, except Jesus.
No wonder,
he thought,
the disciples laid down their fishing nets and followed him.
He pictured her asleep in the guest bedroom. He had never seen her sleeping before. He thought she must look like an angel when she slept, and then he decided he had to go see for himself.

He crept down the hallway to Clare's bedroom. He could hear a soft humming sound coming from the room, and he wondered if she hummed even when she slept. Her door was ajar and the lights were out. Archie crept up to the door and peered in, searching for the bed. He spotted it in the left-hand corner of the room, but Clare wasn't in it. He opened the door a little wider and found her lying face-down, arms outstretched on the floor. She stopped humming when the door opened. She said, "Come in, Francis, we'll pray together."

Archie took a couple of steps into the room. He wondered if he should lie down like her or sit on the floor beside her He chose to sit. He got close enough to feel her warmth beside him. He looked down at her. The lights from the street shone through the window onto her hair and Archie couldn't help but put his hand on her head and stroke it. He leaned forward to kiss the top of her head, and then realizing what he was about to do, he blushed and got to his feet. "I think I'll go pray in my room," he said. He turned and left, pulling the door all the way closed behind him.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
after breakfast, Archie and Clare said good-bye to Irving. He had packed them a lunch of liverwurst sandwiches and pickles, and apples and some of the cake left over from dessert the night before. He followed them to the door with sad eyes and told them he would always be happy to see them and they could stay with him anytime for as long as they wished.

Archie shook Irving's hand and thanked him. He felt choked up leaving, partly because he was so grateful to Irving for taking them in and feeding them, and partly because he was scared. Where would their next meals come from? How would they live? He was glad to know they were welcome to return. He thought they might be back soon, and it was good to see that Irving was sincere about his offer;

Clare hugged the man and said, "I love you, Irving. Don't forget, God is watching over you. And take good care of yourself; Sarah would want you to."

Irving nodded. "After my tutoring this afternoon, Joel and Jacob are going to teach me how to use my computer
Sarah bought it, but she got sick before we ever even hooked it up. I'm going to be a real hipster by this evening." He laughed at himself and waved good-bye.

Archie heard the door close behind them, and he looked back at it and said, "Nice man. I'm glad we met him. Thanks."

"I'm glad we met him, too," Clare said, squeezing Archie's arm.

Her touch reminded him of his visit to her room the night before, and he asked her if she had stayed up and prayed all night. She never looked tired the way Archie did after a late night. She looked energetic, and her eyes were always bright.

"Oh, I got all the sleep I needed," she said.

They arrived at the Cloisters long before it opened, and Clare had Archie park his truck on a nearby street instead of in the parking lot, because, she said, they would not be coming back for it that night—they were staying at the Cloisters.

Before Archie locked the truck up for the day, Clare grabbed the bundle she had brought from home out from behind the seat and then led the way toward the Cloisters, holding the bundle tucked under her arm. Archie followed her carrying the big sack of lunch Irving had packed.

It was a gray day.
A battleship-gray day,
Archie thought. It had rained in the early morning, so there were puddles to step over and the trees they brushed past as they walked down the path beyond the parking lot, toward the river sprayed them with drops of cold water making the air feel colder to Archie. He had left the sweater he had worn on the trip in the truck, and he regretted it.

They came to a viewing deck, with a concrete floor surrounded in stone, that overlooked the riven Clare stopped and pointed at a passing ship, its lights blinking in the fog. Archie watched the ship and wondered where it was going. It made him feel suddenly lonely and tired and lost. He wondered where he himself was going. He turned around to Clare and drew in his breath when he saw a monk standing before him. Clare was wearing a long brown robe with a hood. "Where did you get that?" he asked, looking her over.

Clare was busy tying a rope belt around her waist. She looked up at Archie and smiled. "I made it," she said. She nodded toward the ground. "I made one for you, too."

Archie looked down and saw the other robe, with its rope lying on top. He picked them up and examined the robe. It felt heavy in his hands. "This will feel good now, but won't this be hot when it warms up later?" he asked.

"Put it on," Clare said. "Go ahead."

Archie pulled the robe over his head. It smelled faintly of oil, just like his grandfather's truck. It fell all the way to his feet. He looked down at himself and smiled. "I like it," he said. "I feel—I don't know—different." He looked at Clare, who had finished tying her rope. She looked like a boy, with her haircut.
She must have known she would,
Archie thought.
She must have asked Lizzie for the haircut just for that reason. It's the perfect cut.
He shook his head. "Sometimes I don't know about you, Clare. I can't tell when you've planned and plotted something out and when it just happens that way."

Clare gave him an innocent look. "Why? What do you mean?"

"Your new haircut. Did you know you would look like a boy with that cut once you put on the robe? How did you know she would give you that haircut?"

"I asked for it," Clare said. "The boys' haircuts looked like the way some monks wore their hair back in the Middle Ages. I thought it would look right. It feels right. Wearing my robe feels right. Doesn't it feel right to you?"

Archie wrapped his rope around his waist and tied it. "It's cool," he said. "I don't know how I'll feel out in pub-he, though. And if we're going through the Cloisters like this, don't you think we'll be really noticeable? What will your aunt's old friends think?"

"I'm not trying to hide in this. I'm just being who I am meant to be. Finally I get to be the real me. I get to be Clare."

"But shouldn't you be dressed like a nun, then, or like a lady saint?"

"I've made these robes according to God's directions. God said plain and brown, tied with a rope. It's what Saint Clare and Saint Francis wore."

Archie tilted his head. "Did you really hear God? Did you hear a voice?"

"You've asked me that before. Yes, I heard a voice."

"What did it sound like? Was it a man's or a woman's voice?"

"Neither. It had no sound."

"But you said you heard it. It had to have a sound."

Clare pulled her rope tighter about her waist. "It isn't a sound or a voice like you would normally think. I hear it, and then it's gone before I can identify its sound. It can't be described; that's all I can tell you. But one day you will hear
God's voice for yourself and you will know." She pulled her hood up on her head. It framed her face, highlighting the contours of her cheeks, and she looked even more beautiful than she had before.
Irving was right,
Archie thought.
She would look beautiful even if she were bald.

He pulled his hood up and asked Clare how he looked.

"Like a real brother. You are my brother, Francis."

Archie blushed. He could think of no better compliment. He wanted to please her. He wanted to feel chosen by her as her one true companion, her Saint Francis. He looked at her moving to the edge of the deck in her robe, her hands clasped in front of her in prayer and he felt he would do anything for her.
It must have been the hunger and fatigue that made me think I would leave her yesterday,
he thought.

He loved the confident way Clare handled everything. He loved her devotion to God, and he wanted to be just like her. She inspired him to be a better person, to be more loving toward people, and to love God more.

Archie looked at Clare's back, long and way too slender and shook his head. He had no idea how the day would turn out, or how they'd actually live at the Cloisters—would they ask permission or would they sneak in? And he didn't know where their next meal after lunch would come from, but he had faith; he did—he could feel his own confidence. He smiled to himself and joined Clare facing the Hudson River bowing his head as he prayed the words "
Be still.
"