This story is created using elements from the episodes "Kid Stuff" (the talent show episode) and "The Human Fly." It brings back the wonderful Uncle Alfred (played Juliet Mills' delightful father Sir John Mills). I have also "resurrected" Mrs. Kaufman and the characters from the nursing home. The main story line is based on my own experiences working as a volunteer for the organization Group, which provides weeklong mission trip experiences for Christian youth of all denominations. The story is another chapter in the "Love Makes A Family" series. The storyline will be finished in the next story "Renovation."
I do not own these characters and make no profit from them.
Love Out Loud
"Let's not merely say that we love each other. Let us show the truth by our actions." 1 John 3:18.
Chapter 1: The Situation
The summer was fast nearing an end, and the activities of the Everett children began to wind down. Much as they loved their different programs, they were looking forward to a two-week break before school started up again. However, it seemed that God had other plans.
One day, shortly after Aunts Agatha and Justine flew off to other adventures in their hot air balloon, Prudence was very subdued when Nanny picked her up from Vacation Bible School.
"What's the matter, sweetheart? Did you have a bad day?"
"Not really, Nanny, but I heard something very sad," said the sensitive little girl, her eyes filling with tears.
"Well maybe if you tell me about it, it will make you feel better," replied Nanny, now grateful that she had baked chocolate cupcakes on a whim that morning. They were Prudence's favorites and almost guaranteed to bring a smile.
Prudence thought for a minute. "I can tell you about it, but I don't even think that YOU could make me feel better."
"Well, darling, then it really sounds as if you do need to tell me about it," she said, as they pulled into the driveway. Prudence helped make the sandwiches and milk and they sat down at the dining room table.
"Now start at the beginning," encouraged Nanny in her most comforting voice.
"Do you know the Fleming family at church?" asked Prudence.
"Of course, they are hard to miss aren't they?" responded Nanny.
The Flemings had six children, the oldest of which was Butch's age, the youngest, a pair of three-year-old twins. Their father had fought in Vietnam and returned home about six months ago, injured. He was still unable to work. Last Christmas, Pastor Paul had organized a small toy and clothing drive so that the family might have a merry Christmas. The family was always short on money.
"Well, Molly told us this morning that they are going to have to move out of their house because the building inspector says that it's not safe for them to live there anymore. They have no place to go. She's scared because if they don't have a house, then the children might have to go live with relatives, DIFFERENT relatives, and then they won't see each other for a long time," said Prudence sadly.
Nanny felt very sad herself, remembering the time when she was afraid that she might be separated from her own sister, following the loss of their parents. She couldn't imagine what Joni, the children's mother, was going through. Since her husband had returned from the war it had been a struggle for her to deal with both the children and her husband who was ill. Of course she couldn't afford outside help.
She didn't have an answer for Prudence, but said that she would call Pastor Paul. Much as everyone loved Prudence and her caring heart, she was not always the most reliable source of information. Before she got involved herself, she wanted to make sure of the facts.
"Why hello, Nanny!" he responded to her greeting. " What can I do for you today?"
"I wanted to check on a story that Prudence brought home from Bible School this morning," she began.
Pastor Paul sighed on the other end. "You're the third person who's called. Yes, it's true. The Flemings are being threatened with eviction from their home because of its condition. You see, before Eliot went off to serve, he used to keep up with the repairs himself. He's pretty handy you know, can do just about anything himself. But since he came back from his tour he just hasn't been the same. Physically, he's weakened, but no real permanent injuries. Mentally, well that's another story."
"Is it true that the family will be broken up?" asked Nanny.
"Sadly, yes," answered the pastor. "If they lose the house, they have nowhere else to go. It's not easy to find a place large enough for eight, and money is real tight. Joni can't work because of all the young kids and neither can Eliot. The veteran's benefits just aren't enough to cover expenses, as you can imagine."
"Are we going to try to do something?" she asked, meaning the church.
"You'll hear about it on Sunday. We're going to have a meeting after the service for anyone who has any ideas and or wants to help. Word is getting out fairly rapidly, but we're going to have to get to work pretty quickly. The eviction notice gave them fifteen days."
Nanny thoughtfully hung up the phone. "That doesn't leave us much time."
"What doesn't leave us much time?" asked Prudence.
But Nanny was still deep in thought. "Prudence, get ready. We promised Mrs. Kaufman a visit today."
"Goody," said Prudence. "I can't wait to see Mrs. Darmstadt and Aunt Lottie again."
Nanny smiled. The child was so easily distracted. But she had become very attached to her new friends at the Montclaire Nursing Home. Mrs. Darmstadt had always been a favorite, but recently "Aunt Lottie" had been running a close second. Both women had been born and raised in Brooklyn, NY before they moved out to California in the fifties. Since both had lost their husbands and had limited mobility they had come to live at Montclaire where the Everett's friend and former neighbor Mrs. Kaufman had gone after a minor stroke had robbed her of some of the use of her right side.
When Nanny and the Everetts had helped her to move in, they had begun to befriend some of the other residents. Prudence in particular had made friends with some of the older women who had no one else to visit them. Trelawney had developed her own friendly relationship with an older gentleman that she referred to as Mr. "Just Jim." When they met, he had told her that he was never called Mr. Anybody anymore, he was just Jim. Taught to address her elders as Mr. or Mrs. She started calling him Mr. Just Jim. The old fellow got a kick out of it and now refused to tell her his last name. Now all the Everett children called him Mr. Just Jim, to his amusement and delight.
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When they entered the rec room, Prudence caught sight of Aunt Lottie and made a beeline for her. Looking around Nanny caught sight of Mrs. Kaufman sitting with Mrs. Darmstadt and Mr. Just Jim.
When she went over his first words were, "No visit from my little Cornish lass today?"
Nanny smiled, "You'll just have to make do with this one."
"I know," he said. "But can you play the piano like an angel?"
"I can't play the piano at all. The angels gave up on me a long time ago," she said with a chuckle.
"That's alright, dear," replied Mrs. Darmstadt who often took things quite literally. "You have the face of an angel. Still no ring though, I see."
Nanny self-consciously covered her left hand.
"Now, dear," she went on. "We all know that you and the Professor have an understanding, but he has been very remiss about getting that engagement ring on your finger. I'm going to have a little chat with him the next time he comes in."
"Oh, Rosemary," said Mrs. Kaufman. "Don't be such a busybody. I'm sure they get enough of that at home from Mrs. Fowler. The Professor is a very busy man and these kinds of things tend to slip his mind."
"Humph!" replied Mrs. Darmstadt. "He better watch out. A pretty girl like this without a ring becomes fair game. If he's not careful, some other man will come and sweep her off her feet."
"Like me?" suggested Mr. Just Jim with a smile.
"Old man, you're long past sweeping any woman off her feet, let alone a sweet girl like this. I was thinking of some young buck, somewhat closer to her age if you catch my drift."
Mrs. Kaufman, seeing that Nanny was becoming embarrassed by this open discussion of her love life, came to her rescue.
"Well, I've known Nanny and the Professor much longer than either of you and I can tell you that neither one of them ever looks at anyone else. I've never known two young people more devoted to each other. Now this conversation has gotten ridiculous, let's give Nanny a chance to tell us some of the news from home."
But Prudence was walking over with Aunt Lottie.
"Folks, it sounds like we have a situation," announced Aunt Lottie.
"A situation?" asked Mrs. Darmstadt eagerly. Very little ever happened in the home, so a situation could be a very interesting diversion indeed.
"My little Prudence here has been telling me of a family with six children in her church that may lose their home and the children farmed out to different relatives," she explained.
"The Flemings?" asked Mrs. Kaufman, turning to Nanny.
"I'm afraid so," she said. "Things have been really hard for them since Eliot came back from the Vietnam. The city building inspector is threatening to condemn the house in fifteen days. There's no money to bring it up to code or to keep the family together."
"Oh, poor Joni!" said Mrs. Kaufman. "She must be beside herself."
"I'm sure she is," answered Nanny. "I haven't spoken to her myself, but Prudence brought the story home from Bible School. Little Molly is in her class. I verified it with Pastor Paul."
Mr. Just Jim had become agitated.
"You're right, Lottie," he said. "This certainly is a situation if there ever was one. One of our boys goes off to fight for his country and this is how we repay him. We take away his house and break up his family. What are we going to do about it?"
Everyone smiled. Mr. Just Jim had fought in the Great War, also known as World War I. He liked to tell his war stories to anyone who would listen. His favorite one was that of how he met his late wife, Juliet, while he was recovering in hospital outside London. A woman from Cornwall, England, which just happened to be where the Figalillys were also from, he had quickly befriended young Trelawney who, though happy to be living in the States with her sister, still became occasionally homesick. As Juliet had also been a very fine pianist, it made for a double bond between the two.
"I don't see what we can do, stuck in here like this," replied Mrs. Darmstadt. "Now if we were back in the old neighborhood, something like this would never happen!"
"Why not?" asked Prudence.
"Poor little girl, you have no idea of what it was like to live in the old neighborhood, like I did in East New York. Everyone knew everyone and even if none of us had a lot of money, we all helped each other out," she explained. "All our houses were close up against each other. You took care of your own place and if someone was old or sick or couldn't do it for themselves, then everyone else pitched in. Here all the houses are so far apart that you hardly see your neighbors or even know who they are."
"Well, in my neighborhood up there in Bay Ridge it was pretty much the same," said Aunt Lottie. "Why we would all sit on our front stoops on summer nights and talk to each other the houses were so close. Or we could walk down to the little deli for penny candy. Everybody knew everybody, which was good, most of the time."
"Neighborhoods sure were different back then," sighed Mrs. Darmstadt. "We all lived together and went to church together. In my neighborhood, we all went to St. Michael's, the German church. When I went to school there we had all our classes in German. It was the only we that we could talk to our folks."
"I didn't know you were from Germany," said Nanny, surprised because the woman didn't have a trace of a German accent.
"Of course not," said Mrs. Darmstadt. "I was born in New York and so was my mother, across the street from St. Patrick's Cathedral in fact."
"In the middle of Manhattan?"
"Manhattan was not at all the same as it is today. Our family had a farm. You know my grandparents came from Germany, Bremerhaven in the north. We only moved out to East New York when I was a little girl, so we could live in the country again. Since it was the German area that was where we went. That way we could be with our own people. My parents never did learn to speak English," she said.
"Wow!" said Prudence. "How could they live their whole lives in America and never speak English?"
"Well," said Mrs. Darmstadt, "It goes back to what I was telling you about the old neighborhood. Everyone spoke German. They read German newspapers. And all of the stores and shops were run by Germans. And of course the church and school were German. There were public schools of course, but no good Catholic parent would ever send his child to one of those heathen places."
To get her off what was a potentially tricky subject, Mrs. Kaufman said, "I can see how an ethnic community like that would be so tight-knit. Especially if most of the folks couldn't speak the language."
Aunt Lottie would never be left out of a conversation. "Well, in the Irish neighborhoods, we spoke English just fine, but we kept to ourselves. My grandparents came over from Donegal during Black '47. Starved out by the Brits they were."
"What's Black '47?" asked Prudence.
"That was the first potato famine in Ireland," explained Aunt Lottie. "There were others after that, but that was the worst. Those English landowners shipped out all the grain grown in the green fields, but since the Irish relied on the potatoes, they had no food. Some of them even tried to eat grass.
"Not too much better once they came to America. I still remember the signs "Irish Need Not Apply" when folks were looking for jobs. We stuck together good back in those days."
"Well," said Mrs. Kaufman, hoping that Nanny wasn't insulted by the negative remarks about her own people. "I guess you could say that back then, some folks were bound together by language and others by necessity. Today, out here in California, at least we don't have those problems. Things are different out here. But we still know our neighbors through our churches."
"Yes, we do," agreed Nanny. "I called Pastor Paul as soon as Prudence told me and he said that there would be a meeting after Sunday service this week."
"I wish I could go to that meeting," said Mr. Just Jim. "I'd make sure that that house was fixed up right and proper. I might not be a part of that church, but that fellow Eliot is a veteran like me. He might not be my neighbor, but I that a feel that that bond is there. Things are different out here, but it seems like people still want to stick with their own kind."
"Pastor Paul says that everyone is our neighbor, so that means that Mr. Fleming really is your neighbor," said Prudence.
"That Pastor Paul sounds a like a smart man, for a minister," answered Mr. Just Jim.
"How would you do that, Jim?" asked Mrs. Darmstadt, coming around to the original topic. "Fix up the house that is, not get to the meeting."
"Well, before I got stuck in this place, I was a contractor. I fixed up houses for people. Roofs, porches, painting, siding, plumbing, you name it. I did it all. And if I couldn't do it myself, I hired men to help. After World War II, I made a point of hiring our boys who came back from the fronts, didn't matter where they were from or what church they went to. Taught them what they needed to know myself. Helped them get jobs later. Oh, I know folks made a big deal over that GI bill, but every man's not made out for college. Some of them just need a trade, a skill that will bring home an honest dollar for an honest day's work."
Listening to him speak, Nanny could feel her mind turning towards an idea. Was it mere coincidence that she and Prudence had come to visit on a day when this was foremost in their minds? She began to think out loud.
"Mr. Just Jim, if you would like to attend the meeting, then I would be happy to pick you up and bring you to church on Sunday," she offered.
"Oh I would love to go too," said Mrs. Kaufman. "It would be wonderful to see all of my old friends in the parish. And it's always a treat to ride in Arabella."
"Arabella?" asked Mr. Just Jim.
"That's Nanny's 1930 Model T that Hal restored for her to drive. It had been in . . . now whose garage was it for all those years? It's quite a sight," she answered.
"Mrs. Patterson's. I traded Grandmother Figalilly's recipe for shepherd's pie for it. I'd say it was a pretty fair swap, considering what a sight she was before Hal saved her life," replied Nanny.
"Well, I haven't had a ride in such a car in over thirty years," said Mr. Just Jim. "I'd be happy to go along, although I suppose that it means that I will have to attend the service."
"He's a heathen," explained Aunt Lottie to Nanny. "I believe that it was the only thing his Juliet couldn't nag him into doing; going to church that is."
"My Juliet never nagged," said Mr. Just Jim defensively.
"The way you tell it, she did," corrected Mrs. Darmstadt wryly. "Seems like you were at her beck and call, night and day."
Prudence started to giggle. "You guys sound like Hal and Trelawney."
"In what way, dear?" asked Aunt Lottie.
"They're always fighting like that," she said.
"Now Prudence you mustn't tell tales," said Nanny. "Hal and Trelawney don't fight, they bicker."
"Maybe in front of you they bicker, but when it's just us kids they fight," she answered.
"Well bickering or fighting," said Mrs. Kaufman, "I think that the point has been made that you're acting like children. Nanny, will you really come and pick Jim and me up on Sunday?"
"Of course," she said quickly.
"Well, can I come too?" asked Aunt Lottie. "After all, I was the one who brought all of your attentions to the situation. I would like to have a chance to do my part."
"I would too," said Mrs. Darmstadt. "And it's been forever since I have gone to mass in a real church."
"Well of course, you're all welcome," said Nanny. "But St. Andrew's isn't a Catholic Church; it's Episcopal. We don't have mass, you know."
Mrs. Darmstadt thought for a minute, clearly torn between the desire to get out of the home for a few hours and the disagreeable idea of attending a Protestant service.
"Well, I suppose it could be worse," she said, not entirely cognizant of her tactless remark. "After all we do say that those Episcopalians are the Junior Varsity Catholics."
Nanny suppressed a laugh, while Prudence looked confused. Who knew what she would tell her friends in bible school tomorrow?
"But Nanny," asked Mr. Just Jim. "Why wouldn't a sweet English girl like you be going to an Anglican church?"
"Not too many of them here in America," explained Nanny. "However the Episcopal church is part of the Anglican communion. And of course that's where the Professor and the kids have always gone."
"Well if old Henry the Eighth hadn't been so hot to get into Anne Boleyn's skirts, then there wouldn't have been any need for separate churches. You would still be in the real church," said Aunt Lottie.
"Now Lottie," said Mrs. Darmstadt. "We need to be understanding about that. She obviously doesn't know any better. People go where they were brought, in the first place and she is from England you know.
"And I'm sure that it wasn't her ancestors who starved out your folks from Ireland," she added. At the word ancestors, Nanny looked away. Mrs. Kaufman thought that she was suppressing another smile. She caught what she thought was a twinkle in her eye.
"I don't understand," said Prudence. "I thought that we were going to help the Flemings. Why are we talking about this guy Henry and some lady named Anne's skirts?"
The adults looked at each other guiltily.
"The child's right you know," said Mr. Just Jim. "I guess we all sound a little foolish yammering about churches and such when there's a veteran and his family to help."
"God loves everyone," said Prudence stoutly. "Jesus helped everyone and He never even asked what religion they were. What's a heathen?"
"Someone who doesn't have a religion," said Mrs. Darmstadt.
"Oh," said Prudence thoughtfully. "Mr. Just Jim, since you don't have a religion, if you want, you can share mine."
For a moment there was silence. Nanny was struck by the simplicity of Prudence's expression of her faith. She could not articulate a single theological precept, yet she understood Christ's message on a deeper level than most adults. Finally, Mrs. Kaufman spoke,
"Nanny, if there's room, then we'll all join you for church on Sunday. When do you want us to be ready by?"
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Dinner conversation that night in the Everett home was all about the "situation," as it had become known.
"Wow!" said Hal enthusiastically. "We could all help fix up the house. There's only one more week left of the science program."
"I don't know if I want to spend my last free time before school starts working," said Butch.
"I bet we would get to hammer nails, and paint, and go up on the roof," said Hal.
"Hammer nails? Go up on the roof? Cool. Count me in!" answered Butch.
"Before we get all excited about this," said the Professor. "There are a lot of things to be considered. Actually fixing up a house to meet building codes is a lot different than, say, building a raft to sail out on Squaw Lake."
"Would you use telephone poles to fix the house?" asked Prudence.
"Telephone poles, for a raft?" asked Trelawney. "Sounds like I missed a good one."
"Well, anyway," said Nanny, whose idea the telephone pole had been. "I think that you all have noble intentions, but the Professor is right, there are a lot of carpentry and other skills that you would need to fix up a house."
"Mr. Just Jim would help," said Trelawney.
"How do you know that?" asked Nanny.
"Oh he told me all about how he used to build and fix up houses before he retired," she answered. "He had a business and he fixed roofs, painted houses, built additions and porches, and even handled plumbing. I bet if he went over and had a look see, then he would know exactly what to do."
"He could also teach everyone how to do it," added Prudence.
"How do you know?" asked Butch.
"Because we were talking about it today," said the little girl. "On Sunday Nanny is going to go to the home and bring Mrs. Kaufman, Mr. Just Jim, Mrs. Darmstadt, and Aunt Lottie to church for the meeting."
"Sounds like the whole gang is coming," commented the Professor.
"Oh yes," said Prudence. "Mr. Just Jim is very upset because Mr. Fleming is a veteran from the war and the government's not helping him."
"And I would advise that we stay off that topic," said Nanny.
"Old guy got himself all worked up into a tailspin over it?" asked the Professor.
"In a manner of speaking," replied Nanny.
"Does that mean that he was mad?" said Prudence. "Because he was mad."
"I can imagine," said Trelawney. "He cares a lot about the boys who fight in the wars. He may get a bit dotty about it sometimes, but I think he's right."
"So do I," said the Professor.
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Later that night, it was past one am when the Professor was muttering angrily, "This is the real situation that I would like to fix."
Working late because he had fallen behind when the aunts had come to visit, he had looked up from the pile of papers that he was trying to grade to find Phoebe standing before him, pale as a sheet and looking as though she had seen a ghost. It had happened again. The nightmare that had haunted her, since the aunts had managed to dredge up a terrifying secret that Trelawney had been keeping to herself for the last couple of years. Now that Phoebe knew, she couldn't forget it.
The first couple of times he had heard her cry out from his room and had come to get her to bring her downstairs for a cup of tea and some peace of mind. But tonight her vivid dream had sent her downstairs looking for him. Instead of tea, he went to the liquor cabinet and poured a large tumbler of Red Label. Returning to her sitting on the small couch in the study, trembling violently, he put his arm around her and said, "Drink this. I don't care if you don't like it. It will calm you down and help you sleep."
Obediently, she took the glass and a cautious sip. "I don't like scotch."
"Well, your other choices are bourbon, gin, vodka, or whiskey," he answered.
She made a face, "I don't like hard liquor."
He sighed. "Phoebe, I'm sorry but I don't know what else to do. This can't go on. You must sleep. I have to sleep. I can't bear to see you in all this pain."
She took a large swallow and then another, returned the empty glass to his hand, said coldly, "I'm sorry I bothered you. Goodnight, Professor."
That stung. He looked at her in surprise. She had never, ever spoken to him in that tone before. Before she could stand up to leave, he drew her closer into his arms. He sensed her uncertainty. Looking deeply into her eyes, he softly said, "Don't let him do this."
"Do what?" she asked. There was still an edge in her voice.
"Oh, my God," he said slowly enunciating each word. "Can't you see? He's here. He might as well be sitting between us. You are so afraid of him, that you are forgetting how much I love you."
Her face crumpled in sorrow. Not knowing what else to do, he gently stroked her loose fair hair back from her face. "Come to me," he said. "Come to me and let me comfort you. Let me love you."
Like so many times before, her eyes filled with tears. Knowing that his arms were always waiting for her, she buried herself in his embrace. "I'm sorry. It's not your fault. Please don't be angry with me."
"I am never angry with you," he said. "I am angry with the way that things have turned out. You know that I love you more than anyone else in this world. Anyone. When you hurt, I hurt. I hurt when I cannot release you from your pain."
She looked at him with understanding. "I know you feel my pain. I feel your pain and I also feel you anger." she was thoughtful. "Hal, please don't leave me alone tonight. I only feel safe at night when you are near."
He knew that this was a bad idea. But he thought that if he could calm her enough, he would eventually get her to her own bed, alone. He allowed her to curl up beside him and shortly she was sound asleep. The scotch had a numbing effect that helped her settle down, while retaining the ability to stumble up to bed when he aroused her. After he tucked her in, he turned to leave, and met Trelawney standing in the hallway. She looked at him oddly.
"I am not thinking that this is anything other than what it is," she said. "I will tell no one else. But you must know. She does not believe that the unicorn is dead. She is afraid that he will come back for me."
"Are you are afraid that he will come?" he asked.
"No," she shook her head. "You killed the unicorn. He will never come back."
"How do you know? How do you know and Phoebe doesn't?" he asked curiously.
"I know things that Phoebe doesn't," she replied. "I know Phoebe better than she knows me. I know you. You love her. You have always loved her. You will always love her. You gave her your heart before you ever knew her, and she gave you hers."
"What are you talking about?" he was starting to get frustrated again. Was this poor child crazy?
"I am not a poor child," said Trelawney seriously. "And I am not crazy. But I know things that you don't. I know that right now that Phoebe is dreaming of you. She dreams about you every night. But now the unicorn comes into her dreams. He is very real to her, but he is not real."
Hal was exhausted and couldn't help thinking that maybe this was his own dream. But when he looked at Trelawney she was shaking her head.
"Professor, you are the only one who can help Phoebe. You know what to do. Please do it. I love my sister, but she will not be happy until you are one. But you cannot be one until you help her," she added wisely.
"I truly believe that you believe everything that you have just told me. Although I must admit that I don't understand half of what you have told me," he answered.
She thought for a minute, and then quietly said, "You do not have to understand to do what is right. I can tell you no more, it is not allowed. Goodnight, Professor."
Before she entered her room she turned and said, "I am not crazy and neither are you. We both love Phoebe. Sleep well."
Deciding that trying to figure out what the hell the girl was talking about was futile, he returned to the liquor cabinet and poured himself one scotch, and then another for good measure. Everyone else might be worrying about the situation over at the Fleming house, but he had a situation of his own to deal with in his home.
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Sunday came and the scene at St. Andrew's after morning service was chaotic. Pastor Jason from the Trinity Church, Presbyterian Church, came over with a group of teenagers who had heard about the meeting from Hal at the science program. Fr. Bob from the Catholic Church came over with a group from his church whose kids had heard about it from Trelawney at the community center. There were even people there who did not go to any church but just wanted to help. Pastor Paul looked around and said,
"This is crazy, we'll never get all these folks quiet, let alone have a meeting."
However Pastor Jason just grinned. In his late twenties, he had a head of bright red hair and a smile as big as all outdoors. He turned to his kids and said, "C'mon gang!"
Clapping his hands he called out, "God is good!"
The kids answered, "All the time!"
He then repeated, "All the time!"
The kids answered, "God is good!"
Seeing that people were starting to pay attention he called even louder, "God is good!"
Now even more people chanted, "All the time!"
"All the time!"
"God is good!"
By now everyone was quiet and looking up front. Turning to Pastor Paul, he said, "Your congregation, Pastor."
"Thank you, Pastor," replied Pastor Paul. "I'll have to remember that one."
"So do I," said the Professor in a low voice to Nanny.
Pastor Paul began to speak, "It's really great that all of you have come out to try to help with the situation at the Flemings. A friend of the church . . . uh . . . Jim, over here, has been out to the house to look things over and he's checked the inspection report. Now since he's a retired contractor, he's going to give us the professional advice we need."
Mr. Just Jim stood up. He was clearly uncomfortable standing up in front of such a large crowd, but Trelawney was sitting up front with the three ladies for support.
"Well, folks, I'm no kind of a public speaker, in fact I'm not even a churchgoing man myself, but we got us a situation here, so I'm gonna do the best I can to help. Now I've been over to the house and it's in bad shape. It really does need to be fixed up or just won't be safe for all those children. So I know that some of you folks are mad at the city, but really they're doing the family a favor.
"Now the most important thing is the foundation and she's solid, so the house can be saved. The roof, well she's pretty bad, but with new beams in the attic and tarpaper and shingles, well that can be saved too. The porch, she's really bad, so we're going to have to do some demolition there, but once it's out of the way, it'll take no time to build a new one. The windows are a full of wood rot, but they can be fixed up. We get some wood and caulk. Most of the house is wood, it's a wood frame, that'll be okay. It'll be a big scraping job, a power washer would help. But if we prime it up good, it'll be good for a long time," he explained.
Pastor Paul was writing furiously, "What about the inside?"
"You don't need to write all that up, sir," answered Mr. Just Jim. "I wrote you up a spec sheet, just like it was a real job. I'll help you when you go to the city too. But the inside is the good news. Walls and ceilings are all sound, nothing a coat of paint won't fix up. Some stairs need replacing, but that's a small job."
"So where do we start?" asked Pastor Jason, clearly eager to get to work.
"Well, you aren't gonna like this, but the first thing you gotta do is go to the building inspector at city hall and get at least a two week extension on that eviction notice. Aside from the fact that all that work is gonna take time, you're gonna need money for your materials. You know, paint, wood, shingles, hardware. If you bring your own tools, that'll help. You certainly have lots of labor," he said looking around.
There was silence. Nobody had thought that money would be needed, but it all made sense. Nobody was going to fix anything without building materials.
Then one man stood up. "My brother owns a paint store. Maybe we can get the paint from him at cost."
"That's a good idea all around," said Mr. Just Jim. "If you can get all your supplies at cost and some of them donated, then the total cost'll go down."
"What about going to the city for the extension?" asked Fr. Bob.
"Nanny and I can take care of that," said Mrs. Kaufman. "We've dealt with city hall and the red tape before."
Nanny nodded. "If we have a work plan organized, do you think they'd grant an extension?"
"Won't know until you try," said Mr. Just Jim. "But it seems to me that if everybody knew about how one of our boys who went out there to Vietnam came home and was going to lose everything the mayor would have to sit up and take notice."
"I should think he would," said Mrs. Kaufman. "If that fellow from the TV station would come out to Oak St. over a tree being cut down, he should certainly know that this is an even bigger story. What was his name?"
"Harvey Sloan," supplied Nanny.
"That's right, Harvey Sloan," she said. "That man sure does know how to tell a story."
"Just warn me when he's going to be around," muttered the Professor.
"Maybe it would help get some donations," suggested Pastor Paul.
Trelawney had been anxious to throw out her idea. She raised her hand and when Pastor Paul nodded, she stood up and said, "Whenever we wanted to raise money at home, we staged an entertainment. I know there are a lot of talented people sitting out there who could perform."
"We wouldn't have time to organize that," called out one man.
Trelawney thought for a minute and then said, "Not if it was a variety show. Then people would organize their own acts and come in and perform. It would be good publicity."
A woman in the back of the room raised her hand. Fr. Bob smiled and said, "Lois?"
"I'm the president of the Columbiettes, at St. Peters, and we were just holding a little meeting back here. We can't do any repairs, but we could organize the entertainment, and even supply refreshments."
"Sounds great!" said Pastor Jason. "When can you get started?"
"Right away!" she said. "If you want to perform, you can sign up on the way out. I think it's a perfect thing for the children to do."
"She's no dummy," commented the Professor. "She knows that every kid she puts on stage is guaranteed to sell more tickets."
The teens from Trinity had been having their own meeting. Now a tall, lanky kid with long brown hair and sideburns stood up.
"I'm Christopher Tucker, but everyone calls me Topher," he said. "We were just talking and most of us are done with our summer programs in a week. That would give us two weeks to work on the house, if someone can show us how to do it. I've never fixed a roof or built a porch, but I bet I could learn. And so could the other guys, and the girls too."
"I can teach all of you young folks everything that you need to know," said Mr. Just Jim. "As long as you're smart to learn."
Topher smiled. "I'm taking engineering in the fall. I think I can handle it."
"No offense to your book learning, son," replied Mr. Just Jim, "But can you work with your hands?"
His question hung in the air for a minute. One of the girls said, "Do you really think that we can do it?"
"Young lady," replied Mr. Just Jim. "If you had told me a week ago that I would standing in front of all these people, in a church of all places and talking to them like I've done it my whole life, I would have told you that you were crazy. But look at me. I'm here because a brother veteran needs me. It's not about me it's about him."
Pastor Jason used the opportunity to make a point. "Remember what Jesus said, 'Whatsoever you do for the least of my brothers, that you do unto me.' The Lord is among us now, calling on us to be his angels of mercy. If you have faith in Him, then He has faith in you."
Fr. Bob added, "Remember what St. Theresa of Avila said, 'Christ has no body now on earth, but ours. Our hands are to be His hands.' If you believe that you will be His hands, then you will. Remember that Jesus was a carpenter."
Moved by what his fellow Pastors had said, Pastor Paul said, "Jesus never said no to anyone who asked for his help. There can be no worthier cause to bring to Him, than the desire to help another."
Topher stood up and said, "We can do this! With a little bit of faith and a lot of love!"
As everyone started to applaud, the Professor turned to Nanny and said, "I think he stole your line."
"That's fine with me," she replied. "Now I have to find our friends and prepare for my battle with city hall."
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Later that night, Nanny and the Professor had escaped for some time of their own in the backyard. Hal was hoping that if he found some time to be alone with her before she went to bed that perhaps it would help her to sleep easier. His late night talk with Trelawney had disturbed him more than he liked to admit. He had liked to hear that Phoebe dreamed about him, and he had no doubt that Trelawney knew this. However, the fact that she knew that her sister was still troubled by thoughts of Cholmondeley really bothered him. It had confirmed his own fears.
The next day he had tried to talk to the young girl about it. She looked at him with wisdom in her eyes that belied her eleven years. He was puzzled. Her whole affect changed when she began to talk like this. He thought that it must have something to do with her powerful psychic connections with the cosmos. He didn't understand those either and was beginning to realize that he probably never would.
"Professor," she explained. "There is very little that I can tell you other than what I said last night. I knew it would confuse you, but it was the only thing that I could think of doing to help. I can't tell you what to do. In life there are some things that we must figure out for ourselves."
"Trelawney, if this is another one of your elaborate schemes to bring . . . "
"Professor, I do not need to scheme any more to bring you together," she interrupted. "You are together. Nothing will keep you apart."
"Then why did you come out of your room last night?" he asked.
"I knew she was troubled. I knew it was not the first time she needed you. I can hear her call too, and last night she was quite frightened. I was surprised that she didn't wake the others. But I heard her go downstairs and I knew that you would care for her," she replied. "And that didn't take any great deductive reasoning. You are always there for her. Everyone knows that."
"Trelawney, I feel so helpless. I just want to take away her pain," he admitted.
"I know that you do," she said softly. "But this is not a pain that you can take away, no matter how many shots of scotch you give her. Don't get mad, yes, I can do it too. I always could."
Hal began to feel uncomfortable.
"Please, I do not intrude. But my sister and I are deeply connected. If it makes you feel better, I feel her pain too. And if I could help her I would," she said.
"So even you can't help her?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No, but you can. In fact I believe that you already have the answer."
He looked at her helplessly again.
"I don't know, myself," she repeated. "But you must have courage. Whatever the cure is, it will be bitter medicine to her."
Right now, he knew that it relaxed Phoebe to be close to him, surrounded by him. She was nestled under his right arm and her stroked her hair with his left hand. His arm held her firmly while his hand was gentle. Sitting by themselves under stars, they could almost forget about the new flurry of activity that was about to start. Hal rested his cheek on her silky hair and noticed that she seemed very weary. Of course she hadn't had a decent night's sleep in days. But he decided to avoid the issue of the nightmares.
"Phoebe, if this is too much for you then pull back a little," he said gently. "I know how you like to be in the middle of things, but you also need to think about yourself. And me."
She looked up and saw he was smiling. "I do think about you, all the time."
He leaned in and tenderly kissed her. He could feel her respond, searching his mouth more deeply and wrapping her arms around him tightly. Since they had received Aunt Justine's blessing and knew that the last obstacle to their marriage had fallen, her responses to his physical expressions had become more intense. Not that he didn't want to encourage it, but he knew that she would not hold out much longer. Deciding that he didn't want to encourage her too fast, too much, too soon, he pulled back and held her close against his shoulder.
"I want you so much," she breathed.
"I want you too," he said.
"Then why . . ."
"Am I being so careful?" he finished. "Phoebe, I am going to be honest. I am not sure that you have faced up to everything that you need to face up to. You have had so many shocks. This latest one was about your sister, you can't tell me that you never think of it."
She stared straight ahead.
"Hal," she said tensely, "I am doing my best NOT to think about it."
He knew that she was struggling, but he decided to push it.
"Phoebe, you know better than I do, that the mind will run away from those things that are too painful to acknowledge, for but only so long. The thoughts and emotions creep in and lurk in the shadows. I cannot see as deeply into your mind as you can into mine, but I know that the images of what might have happened haunt you. They wake you up in the night because they are so frightening. They haunt me too," he said quietly.
"Yes, they haunt me," she admitted. "Sometimes I wish we knew. Sometimes I wish that it could be reduced to a single real image, rather than a thousand false ones. My beautiful innocent sister, only eight years old, he built up her trust and then he betrayed her in the worst way possible. He made her feel guilty. He made her feel that she betrayed me."
"I feel the same way sometimes, wishing that I really knew what happened. And then there are other times that I wish he would come back, because I would kill him. I would pulverize him, as I did that little trinket," he said. "I hate him as I have never hated anyone before in my life."
He held her more tightly. She felt the deep need within him to protect her. And she knew deep within her own heart that she only felt safe because he was there. But they were both chained to that man now, she by her fear and he by his hatred. She knew, as he did, that until they broke those chains, they would never be free to love one another with the depth of which they were capable. She knew that what he had said the other night was true. That man was between them. She could feel his hand stroking her hair and his soft, "I love you"s whispered in her ear.
And then she felt the tears wet on her cheeks. Almost without any self-control, she was sobbing in his arms. Crying for their pain, for the lost innocence of her sister, and of her own. She could feel him rocking her as if she was a child. In arms like this, clinging to him for the safety his presence insured, she wondered if perhaps she was not a child. But he loved her as she was. Woman or child, she knew that his heart was entirely faithful to her. And it was within those moments that she realized that the love he had for her was more powerful than even that of his own children.
As always, he held her until there were no tears left. She felt herself calming in his arms. Whatever the tears had released, the space they left behind was filled with peace. Yet she also felt a yearning. She wanted him so desperately to take that final step, to stop treating her as if she might break. He must have sensed her thoughts, because he shifted them so that he could look in her eyes.
"I love you more than you can imagine," he said. "And I know that you have a vivid imagination. This time will pass. But you must realize that you will never be able to face up to your own issues, to see beyond them, until you stop trying to stop solve everyone else's problems. It is not selfish to focus on yourself when you need to."
Within the depths of his blue eyes, she saw his love, his strength, and his devotion. And within their light she saw that it was all for her, that he was waiting for her. Through her tears, she smiled.
"What?" he said softly.
"I've always liked blue eyes best too," she said tenderly. He kissed her gently and then led her back to the house. The next three weeks promised to be very busy.
That night, she finally slept without waking.
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To Be Continued
In the next chapter, as plans begin to coalesce for fixing the situation, Nanny finds herself confronted not only by the Professor, but also her friends at the nursing home regarding her personal situation.
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