penance. a love story (The Böhme Series) (3 page)

“Shh
,” Lily said putting her finger to her lips. “Hannah, do you hear that?” she asked in a whisper.

I had shaken my head not knowing what she meant. I only heard the breeze dancing across the field as if it were the percussion keeping beat for the birds singing in the distance.

“It's the cherry trees,” she whispered. “They’re singing to us Hannah right along with the birds,” she said as she took our hands and held them above us as she continued singing her favorite song.

It was a wonderful memory and I tried to cling to those when they came back to me. They were few and far between anymore. I looked back at the red hat the sister wore in Renoir’s painting and wanted to hold tight to Lily.

I looked toward the door to make sure I was alone and with quiet movements tore the painting from the book. I smiled to myself as I slid it between the pages of my own book I brought with me to read.

“You must be Hannah
,” a male voice said, startling me. The girl from earlier followed behind him and returned to her desk and paid me no attention as I smiled at the man.

“Yes, that’s me,
” I said as I stood from my seat and put my hand toward him. He wore a gray mustache that reminded me of old television shows from the 1980s. My mom always watched reruns and Lily and I dreamed of meeting a mustached man one day.

“You’re late,” t
he man said, “I’m Lawrence, by the way.” He continued without allowing me to respond. “Follow me,” he said as he entered his office without shaking my hand.

When I entered the room he shut the door behind me. He waved his hand toward a chair opposite his desk and gav
e me a sincere smile. “Sorry,” he said as he put his hand toward me to shake. “Alex thinks she can come and go as she pleases, so I have to make her believe I’m a hard ass with everyone.”

I took his hand and appreciated that he had a firm shake with me. Limp handshakes annoyed me.

“That’s a good way to be,” I said with a smile. “I apologize for being late. I got lost.” Not a lie, but I chose to omit the truth.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” h
e asked as he shuffled papers at his desk.

“Yeah, I’m new to the city. I used to live outside town, but I’d never visited the college. So it's new to me
,” I said as I relaxed into the chair and held my bag and book on my lap.

He smiled as his older, artistic eyes evaluated me. The way he studied me didn’t make me uncomfortable. He wasn’t judging as the girl at the desk had. He was an artist. “You understand figure modeling isn’t the same as modeling, right?”

I smiled. “I assumed that. Most models don’t sit still for an hour or so while a room full of people stares at them.” I scowled. “Maybe they do, I'm not sure,” I said on a shrug.

“It’s more than that, too
, if you aren’t ready for it,” he sighed as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. I noticed that the decorations in his office and the orange-brown color of his furniture looked as though they were outdated. The office and the man himself were reminiscent of easier times. They were times when people had their own moments and their privacy. I looked at his desks and noticed he didn’t have a computer.

“Why don’t you have a computer?” I asked and thought of how different I now was. I never used to be forthright with my questions.
 I learned that life is too short to not ask questions.

Lawrence smiled as he looked toward the desk intended for a computer. In its place were several books stacked on their sides, as well as two Japanese Komainu statues. “I despise the things. If I need to email or check something for work, I use Alex’s desk. Otherwise, I prefer to
research the old fashioned way.” He laid his hand upon the stack of books. “I sometimes wonder if these things are a dying breed and it breaks my heart. Why figure modeling, Hannah?” He leaned back into his chair and once again crossed his arms as he brought the conversation back to why I was there, “Not many people are up for it. It takes a strong will to do it.”

“I want to be seen,
” I said looking to the yellowed ceiling tiles above my head, “but not heard.” Something I fought against growing up, but now needed.

“Don’t you think it involves more than being seen? You’d be surprised what you find in the silence
,” he said without judgment.

“That’s deep, Lawrence
.” I smiled. “They may see something, but they won’t hear my story. I can be quiet in the silence.”

He laughed at that, “We will see, Hannah.” H
e leaned his elbows on his desk and opened a three ring binder. “We will see,” he said softer as he began to flip through the pages. “Okay, you start on Monday morning at nine.” He pulled a pad of paper from his drawer and began to write the information. “You will need to be here at eight-thirty though. Rebecca doesn’t approve of her models being late. She isn’t as forgiving as me,” he said with a smile and handed me the papers.

He looked at me and held his smile but his eyes were sad as if he saw something I didn’t want him to see. “There is more to figure modeling than being nude
, Hannah,” he said. “You have nothing to hide behind except yourself and when you’re hiding in your own skin few shadows exist to cloak you and that is when you are loudest.”

“We will see, Lawrence
,” I said with a smile as I left his office. I didn’t believe a word of it. I had become a master at hiding in my own skin.

I passed the girl’s desk without giving her a look and put my ear buds in as I stepped into the winding hallway. I passed a doorway and saw a bumper sticker taped across the wall that read, “Psalm 37.”

I could recite the scripture without a second thought due to the many drills I faced growing up in a religious home. I pushed the words and any comfort they could bring away. I was no longer that person and that scripture was a shy comparison to the words that echoed through me as I thought of Lily. She was so far away from me now and her absence took my emotions with her.
Everything happens for a reason and God has a plan.
After she left me I said fuck god’s plan and I was full of anger and bitterness. Now, I’m filled with indifference and I miss the days when I was angry. 

I was battling with myself. I wanted attention, but I wanted to hide. I wanted to be seen, but forgotten. I couldn’t understand myself anymore. It was as if two years ago my spirit became disconnected from my physical form and I was a fog of existence living outside myself. My movements weren’t mine. My decisions weren’t mine. I played a part in a play or book. I was a puppet being played with by the universe. Everything decided for me, I was a piece of dust floating in the sunlight, seen at times, but unable to be found in the chaos of motion.

I sat at the bus stop, waiting to return to the apartment that I shared with my cousin, Maggie. We moved to the city a week ago because she got a job at an advertising agency, which was what she always wanted. She used to be the one that followed me everywhere, but now I was the one following her. It was easier to escape into someone else’s life instead of planning my own.

A man smiled and took the seat next to me and tapped the side of his ear and pointed toward mine. He wanted me to remove my ear buds so we could talk. I welcomed the conversation. Strangers are the easiest
 to hold conversations. They didn’t want from me but the short moment we shared. I turned off my mp3 player and removed my ear buds before giving him my attention.

“Can I ask you something?” h
e asked.

“You just did
,” I said with a smile that made him laugh.

“I suppose I did, didn’t I? But I was wondering if you could tell me where t
he best place to eat in town is,” he asked as he watched students trying to find their way around campus and life.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know. I recently moved here. If you ask me again in a month, I should have a better answer
,” I said with another smile as he laughed. “Are you new here too?”

“Yes, I am. My wife died late last year. I couldn’t stay in that house anymore. It wasn’t because of her memory. It was because it was too big and the world was smaller now without her in it. She left me a note telling me to get the hell out of the house when she died
.” He laughed as I raised an eyebrow at his declaration. “Oh no, it wasn’t in anger. She knew that I stayed behind for her. See she became sick two years ago and we never planned on staying in the house. She and I were going to travel the world. I didn’t need to though. Being near her showed me how great the world was. Now she is gone and her last wish was that I travel at least across the country and I was to eat at the best place in every town I visited. She loved to travel, I loved to eat. So this makes sense,” he continued speaking, but I only heard two years.
Two years
. His life changed two years ago too.

“Are you taking the bus everywhere? I think a car of your own might be easier to
for traveling,” I asked keeping my thoughts from my expression so the conversation remained light.
Two years.

“Yeah, I have a car,
right there,” he said as he pointed to an old Buick.

I laughed, “Why are you sitting at the bus stop?”

“Because I needed to ask where the best place to eat was,” he said with a smirk.

“A gas station might be better.”

“Nope, college kids always have a list of the best places to eat,” he said with a wide smile.

“Well, I’m not a college kid. But I hope you find one to help you
,” I said as I stood to meet the arriving bus.

“Thank you for talking to me.” H
e smiled.

“Thank you for talking to me
.” I nodded as I put my ear buds back in and boarded the bus.

Strangers have the most meaningful conversations. We hadn’t even exchanged names, but that moment we shared was human. I didn’t share any of my stories with him, but I absorbed his. I walk the path with the living and listening to their stories makes my existence legitimate. I don’t need names to know
them
. Once you give names conversations become redundant. Not with Lily and me though. Years ago we spoke without words. I longed for those days.

I opened the door to our apartment and heard music coming from Maggie’s room. I pulled my keys from the door and eyed the boxes we had yet to empty. The boxes were full to the brim of memories and items we couldn’t part with and I foresaw boxes still stacked months from now. As much as I hated dealing with the details, it needed to be done.

“Hey Maggie, we need to put this shit up or rent a storage unit. I have to step over your mountain of shoes to get in the door,” I said as I stepped closer to her door and started to open it until the telltale sounds of intimacy drifted through the door.
You little slut
.

I knew she wasn’t. We had a running joke where I called her that. The person in there was her boyfriend Toby. He helped us move in earlier this week, but it looked as though he decided to come back. I decided I needed to find a steady job to keep me out of the apartment part of the day. I couldn’t handle the lovey-dovey stuff.

The job at the college was temporary and didn’t give me a steady enough income.
The job at the college.
I laughed at my inability to say the words and wondered if Lawrence was right.

I decided to check for jobs online and found a few steady once listed as hiring—barista, bar tender, book shop clerk. Each sounded appealing and I made note of their addresses. I needed a source of income, despite what Maggie said when we moved in
to the apartment.

We were both twenty-one but she had spent the few years after high school getting her degree on a fast track. I spent less time planning my future and more time
paying for my past mistakes. And now her college years paid off as she was working an entry level position at one of the most successful advertising agencies in the state. It was her dream and I was proud of her accomplishment, even though she sold herself to the devil working there.

Maggie always asked me of my dreams and reminded me of my past
somedays
, but I dreamed less and less every day. I didn’t want to spend my days thinking of possibilities I could miss, because I was going to grab onto life and experience whatever the wind brought into my path. Now, my sister lost her chance of a full life and any dream of mine should be lost as well. It wasn’t fair that I could move forward. So I gave up on life.

I flicked through the windows I opened on my laptop and paused on a photo of Lily and me. We were sitting on the porch swing at my parents’ house. Few photos of us together as teenagers existed. Even fewer existed of us laughing together. Pressing our heads together to allow us both to fit in the photo, we wore huge smiles as we celebrated her graduation. I was holding the cap up in front of my face, but you could see the smile in my eyes. She was facing me with closed eyes and her huge laugh. She was happy that day. Her journey into adulthood was exciting as she was moving into her own path. She told me she wanted to be free. I took it at the time as saying she was looking forward to college and being free to do as she wanted. Now, I wonder what she meant by the freedom she was craving.