The Silver Bangle

 “Smoking again?” he asks

“It’s my motto, stay lifted.” She smiles before taking another drag off the end of half-smoked joint she holds between her thumb and pointer in her right hand. Annie lifts her head toward the open rectangular window above her and exhales. She watches the long white wisps of smoke disappear out the basement window. Annie and Father Lorenzo stand quietly at the bottom of the rickety wooden staircase in the dingy nineteenth-century basement. The wire shelves along the rubble walls are elevated a foot above the dirt floor, to protect the contents of the plastic bins stored there. “I have so many memories down here.” Annie says with a sigh of sad nostalgia before breathing in the musty basement air.

“Are our handprints still on the wall?” Lorenzo asks stepping past Annie as he heads toward the wall at the far end, first turning on the naked bulb in the socket in the rafters to shine a light on them both. “Was that seventh grade when we decided to make our own cave painting down here after learning about Neanderthals with Mr. DeWitte?” He turns and smiles at Annie.

“I think so. It was right before you transferred to St. Peter’s.”

“Yes.” Is all Father Lorenzo’s says before turning back to search for the colorful handprints they had left on the chalky stone walls.

“Stay focused,” Annie says. “I appreciate you taking time from you busy day to help. This should take long.”

“No problem, I like getting out for lunch.”

“Go look for the handprints, but I want to find that box. Mom said the letters should be in there, on the shelf with the box of Christmas decorations. Do you see anything?”

“What color is it again?”

“Mom said clear shoebox with a yellow cover.” Annie drops the finished joint on the dusty basement floor and crushes it with her black boot before taking another from her sweatshirt pocket. She touches the side of her head and can feel the bruise healing with salve she’d put on that morning before calling Father Lorenzo with her story and accepting his offer to help.

“How much of that stuff do you have?”

“I have a source, here.” She smiles and kicks the dirt floor a little with the heal of her foot. “As a matter of fact, an old friend from MIT, Gerry, he always comes through.”

“Did you use it in college too?” Lorenzo asks curiously.

“No, you know that. I was afraid of completely losing my mind, especially after that year. You know. I’d been you know, lost. When I finally decided it was time to return to school every day was a struggle for me. I didn’t think it was a good idea to smoke pot.”

“But you smoke now.”

“Oh yes, well. After a few years on the road, it was clear my brain wasn’t anything we needed.” She laughs. “And we spent so many nights with crazy drunk people, it started to turn me off alcohol. So at the end the night I’d share a joint with the crew while we packed up and got ready for the next day. Now it’s more of a habit than anything else.” She places the joint between her lips and flicks the lighter with her right hand, inhaling long and slow. “There are worse things I could be doing.”

“Maybe,” he says.

“No, L, this one isn’t for you to win. It’s not a matter of belief, it’s science.”

Lorenzo shakes his head and turns away not wanting to start a fight. He steps closer to the bins filled with lights and carefully stored ornaments ignoring Annie’s words.

“I know this, to the depth of my heart. When JP gave it up he stopped feeling creative and was angry, angry with me, angry with the world. Ridiculous. Unnecessary. JP used to say that he never knew what would come out the other side, but that the cannabis gave him a lightness in the back of his head that allowed him to hear the sound of his own voice. I think he’s right.”

“It’s just that I worry about you. Let’s just say this is my last heroic gesture in the long line of unheroic ones.”

“It’s just a joint, Lorenzo. Calm down.”

Father Lorenzo feels heat rise on his neck with Annie’s rebuke, but doesn’t say another word. He stands rigid before the metal shelving with the clear plastic bins filled with colorful holiday decorations and strings of glass lights. He tilts his head up and scans the top corner and then he sees it, on the top shelf about a foot above his head, tucked back into the right corner. “There it is.” He points with his right hand as he turns his to Annie. “Go find a couple of chairs and we can open it together.”

 

Annie and Lorenzo find two folding chairs stacked underneath the beach umbrella behind the hot water tank.  They settle underneath their childhood handprints without saying a word. Annie feels her heart vibrate through her body to the plastic bin she holds in her shaking hands. Annie does not take her eyes off the box as she wipes the soft coat of gray dust from the yellow plastic cover. She  slowly releases the long edge of the cover and pushes it up and away from her to see the contents of the box. She smiles without expectation when she see what is on top. “It’s the silver bangle.” She cries out delighted by the unexpected surprise. “Mom wore this every day, for as long as I could remember, until a little before Charlie showed up at the factory. Look Lorenzo!”

She holds it up for him to see. “Do you think that has a connection to your dad?”  He asks not moving from his place in the beach chair.

Annie stairs at the silver oval she holds with her hands. Images of  Dottie in every season flash through her mind and in each one thing is constant, the silver bangle on her right wrist. Without taking her eyes from the tarnished ring she thinks how she  always ask to play with it when they were sitting in church with Papa in Maine, and when it was gone that last Sunday she’d asked  and how Dottie had cried when she’d asked for it. Once she’d wondered what the letters CAT engraved on the smooth underside stood  for and all Dottie would say was that those were the  initials of the person who made it.  “Probably,” is what Annie says before placing it back in the box and pulling out a white business envelope with her name and last address in Maine typed on it.

“Are you okay?” Lorenzo leans a little closer to her and smiles. “We don’t have to read this in the basement. Surrounded by dust balls and who knows what else.”

She laughs and feels her body relax. “We’ve had our greatest adventures down here, I’m okay. Let’s find out who my father was.”  Annie smiles at Lorenzo before turning her attention back to the envelope in her hands. She slides her finger across the open top and pulls out a folded piece of white paper. She opens the fold to see the words written by the person she didn’t think existed. “He typed the letter, that’s interesting. Better, if his handwriting is anything like Charlie’s I wouldn’t be able to read it.” She doesn’t look up to see Lorenzo’s face but she can feel his eyes on her. There is writing on only one side of the  unfolded page, and before she allows her eyes to read the words she takes one last breath of the musty basement world she loved.

 

September 29, 1983

Dear Annie,

 

I’m so sorry we never had the chance to meet. In the photographs Dottie, your mom, sent me I can see how pretty you are, like your mom. But I’ve noticed that lately you are either reading a big book or outside watching the sky with that telescope you love. I think you have some of me in you.

 

If you are reading this it’s because my light faded before I thought it would. If I’ve learned anything in this mysterious world it’s that happiness is fleeting. If you feel happy, be grateful and don’t wish for something other people tell you to want. Sorry, that’s a little deep but now you know a little more about what I think.

 

I don’t really know what your mom told you about me, I don’t even know if you know my name. It’s Chapman Alexander Todd. It’s sounds like my first name is a last name and my last name is my first name, sort of funny.

 

I’m smart, or thought I was, but I never finished my PhD at Columbia. By the time I was ready to begin my dissertation research I was already sick. The illness has made everything so difficult. The dream of knowing you is fading, like so many of my dreams. But what I want you to know is that I would have loved to be your dad. It’s just that by the time I knew (you need to ask your mom about all that) it was too late for me to be any use to you. Please believe me, I’m so sorry.

 

Some days it is just hard to find good news, but we all need to watch for the rays of light in the dark. Annie honey all these years the thought of you has been my ray of light. I’ve been told there can be weeping at night and the hope of joy in the morning, and that is how I live each day now. But like I said, if you are reading this my light has passed and I’m at rest and the pain is gone. For that I will be grateful.

 

I asked Dottie to give you this one letter because there are a few things I want you to know about me, not sure why but it feels like you might want to know these things one day. Maybe, someday, this little bit about me will help you understand yourself.

 

I was an altar boy and thought about becoming a priest.

I like to write by candlelight.

I love the rocky shores of Maine and a steamed lobster.

I find solace looking at the night sky.

I wanted to be an astronaut but I get car sick so I decided to study the stars.

I always loved your mom, from the moment I saw her in the shower. (Again, you must ask her!!)

Remember that the sun sets once a day, take ten minutes to watch it.

 

I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you but I know that your life is blessed because you are loved by Dottie and that big family of hers. Your mom is the only girl I ever loved, that’s how special she is. If there is a place in the universe where souls meet again I hope we have the chance to meet in the stars.

Most fondly,

Chapman Alexander Todd

 

Annie sits with the letter in her hands. She wants to stay in the moment with the tears on her face before opening herself back to Father Lorenzo. But before she can find the energy to speak, or Father Lorenzo finds the need to break the silence, they hear the door at the top of the rickety wooden staircase open.

 “Annie are you down there? It’s JP on the phone,” Dottie says with an urgency in her voice that raises the hairs on Annie’s neck. “He says there’s been an accident, he needs you.”

 

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