Chapter 7

Pastor Robbins met him at the bus stop. “Mr. Caldwell, it’s good to meet you,” Pastor Robbins said and shook Max’s hand. A stale, musky odor like mildew surrounded the pastor. His palm felt hard and grimy against Max’s. “Please forgive the mess when we get inside. We’re repairing the boiler in the basement.”

“Maybe I should come back tomorrow.”

“Nonsense. I was just about to take a break for lunch anyway.” The pastor hooked an arm around Max’s and led him towards the church. With anyone else he would have shook away the assistance and insisted he could find his own way, but he couldn’t rebuke a clergyman. “Dr. Perry tells me you play the piano. How long have you been playing?”

“My dad started teaching me when I was three.”

“Your father was quite a teacher, so I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“You knew my father?”

“He was my teacher when I was a child. Must have been thirty years ago. Before I received the call, my mother thought I was going to be a concert pianist. She never could see that I wasn’t very good. Not your father’s fault, of course. God gave me these stubby fingers.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. He gives us all a talent and it’s up to us to find out what it is. My talent is in preaching the word, not tickling the ivories.” The pastor’s laugh came in machine-gun bursts. He steered Max through a doorway and then through another door until they came to sit on a hard bench. When Max felt the hymnals in front of him, he knew they were in the church. “Perhaps you’ll find your own talent here, Mr. Caldwell.”

“I don’t know any hymns.”

“It shouldn’t be too much of a challenge. In the meantime, no one is expecting you to master it right away. Since Mrs. Caulkins left, we’ve been using taped music.” Pastor Robbins chuckled. “Last Sunday for the early service the tape recorder got stuck on fast forward. We tried to sing “Onward Christian Soldiers”, but the parishioners couldn’t keep up. When I tried to stop the tape, the machine ate it and we had to go without music for the late service. Whatever you do will be an improvement.”

“I guess.”

“I have all our hymns on cassette and I’ve ordered a special hymnal in Braille.”

“You really don’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“It’s no trouble. You’re doing me a favor. Do you know how hard it is to find a church pianist? Especially one who will work for the little money we can afford to pay?” Pastor Robbins put a hand on Max’s shoulder. “The Lord has sent you, Mr. Caldwell.”

“I’m not sure about that.”

“Not a religious man?”

“No.”

“I think you’ll find that He works in all our lives, whether we see Him or not. His hand is in everything we think, say, and do. He created us and He will be there to greet us when we perish from this earth.” The pastor’s voice rose as he spoke, until it filled the church.

“How do you know what God’s plan is for you?” Max asked.

Pastor Robbins lowered his voice back to a conversational level as he said, “It’s often difficult to know. All we can do is look into our hearts. If we listen close enough, we’ll hear His voice speaking to us, steering us down the right path.” The pastor gave Max’s shoulder a squeeze. “Dr. Perry told me all about what happened to you. It’s such a tragedy to lose your parents like that. I want you to know, He is there, in your heart, waiting for you. You only need to listen and believe.”

“Thanks. I’ll try.” Clergymen, Max saw, were not so different from doctors. They used the same tactics, but with a different message. Whereas the doctors believed in the psyche and the subconscious, the clergy believed in a higher power dictating what everyone did. He wondered how Dr. Perry could believe in both psychology and religion.

“Come on, I’ll show you our piano and then the chapel and banquet hall. Are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Mrs. Douglass is making chicken and dumplings. You should try some. They’re super.”

Pastor Robbins led Max over to the piano. He sat down on the bench and then ran his hand along the instrument’s surface. An upright model, just like the one Dad had kept in the house. He felt his father’s hand on his as he’d done for their first lesson after Max went blind. “Everything is in the same place,” his father said.

Max stabbed at a few keys, but couldn’t find the right ones. He slapped the keyboard in disgust and began to cry. Dad took his hands, placing them gently on the keys. “Don’t think about where the keys are. Let your fingers remember. They know where to go.”

Max took a deep breath, trying not to think about the keys. He heard “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” each note rising up in his mind. He tapped out the tune, at first hesitantly, but then with greater confidence. When he finished, Dad hugged him; he couldn’t remember the last time he and his father had embraced. “I’m so proud of you,” Dad said.

“You’re a natural,” Max heard Pastor Robbins say. Only then did he realize that he’d played the same tune in the church. “It’s like that piano was made for you.”

“It’s like riding a bike,” Max said, recalling Dr. Perry’s joke from their first session.

“I bet. We use that same piano in the chapel for our Wednesday night service. Don’t worry about moving it. Our janitor, Leo, will take care of it.” Pastor Robbins clapped Max on the shoulder again. “Let’s go into the banquet hall and see how the chicken and dumplings are coming. I’m starved.”

The pastor led Max back down the aisle and around a curving hallway to another room. Pastor Robbins pulled out a chair and asked Max to sit down. Max ran his hand over the smooth Formica surface of the table and the cold legs of the metal folding chair. He smelled a familiar scent: the mixture of rose, sandalwood, and freshly-mown grass he’d first detected in Dr. Perry’s office. Then he heard her say, “You two look like you’re getting on pretty well.”

“Oh yes. I just showed Max the piano and he took to it like a duck to water.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“We were just about to have some lunch. Care to join us, Doctor?” the pastor asked.

“Sounds good. I never turn down a free meal.”

“In that case I’ll be right back with lunch for three.”

The folding chair next to Max groaned and then he felt Dr. Perry’s knee against his. “How’s everything going so far?” she asked.

“It’s fine.”

“How do you like Pastor Robbins?”

“He’s all right.”

“You should listen to his sermons on Sunday. They’re beautiful. Well, I guess you’ll get a chance soon enough.” Her chair creaked and her knee backed away from his. “So, any new developments between you and Sarah?”

“I saw her again yesterday. Helped move some things around her house.”

“That’s wonderful. Do you think it’s serious?”

“I don’t know.” He thought for a moment and then added, “I hope so.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Just remember, though, you should take things slowly. I know you have a lot of time to make up for, but you don’t want to rush into a situation you’re not ready for.”

He thought about Sarah and the world he’d constructed for her. No, he wasn’t rushing into anything there. He was helping to ease her pain. For now he had quelled her bad dreams and made her happy, but what about in the future? He thought of his pathetic first attempt to design a house for her. She deserved more than some tiny shack with the bare essentials. He needed to provide her with the luxury of a queen. Then she could be happy forever.

“There is something I’m worried about,” he said.

“Oh? What’s wrong?”

“It’s just that I’ve never really dated before. There’s so much I don’t know. Not just about women, but about everything.”

She patted his arm. “I understand. A lot’s changed in twenty years.”

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. What he wanted to ask next went against everything he had learned about doctors from Washington Juvenile and Gull Island Psych, but what choice did he have? He didn’t know anyone else he could talk to about these matters.

“I want to buy her a gift. Maybe a dress. Could you help me pick something out? I don’t want to ask a salesperson. They’ll talk me into something expensive.”

“Of course I can, Max. That’s a wonderful idea to help your treatment. After we get done here, we can go to some stores and find something nice for Sarah.”

“Thank you, Dr. Perry.”

“Lindsey.”

“Right, Lindsey. Thank you.”

Pastor Robbins returned and set a plate in front of Max. He poked at a lump of dough with his fork and then took a cautious bite. He tasted chicken broth and butter in the biscuit. When he dug beneath the dough, he found a layer of meat and vegetables in some kind of sauce. “It’s best when you can get dumpling, chicken, and veggies all at once,” the pastor said. “The Holy Trinity.” He laughed at his own joke, as did Lindsey, but Max didn’t understand. He scooped up another mouthful to mask his ignorance.

“These are better than the ones my grandma used to make,” Lindsey said. “Of course anything is better than my cooking. Max, maybe you could have Mrs. Douglass give you some lessons. Nothing a woman likes more than a man who can cook.”

“Indeed,” Pastor Robbins said. “On our first date, I invited Mrs. Robbins over for some homemade spaghetti. I knew she was the one when she didn’t wince even once.”

Max joined in the laughter, but he didn’t have to worry about cooking for Sarah. She didn’t know he existed. To her, he was no more real than the god Pastor Robbins believed in.

No matter, he told himself. As long as she was happy and safe, nothing else mattered. He ate another mouthful of chicken and dumplings and then smiled. She would be happy, safe, and loved, whether she knew it or not.