eyes shifted back and forth as if looking all around her. “Now, wait,” she said. “Now, wait. What are you talking about?”
Wendy leaned forward, putting her feet flat on the floor. She clasped her hands, put her elbows on her knees, let her clasped hands dangle in front of her. “I know this is hard, Mrs. Jericho. Maybe you won’t even believe me. But I thought the best thing to do was to tell you about it.” Her shoulders slumped and she stared at the red plaid rug.
“Are you some kind of psychic? I never even knew you were married.”
Wendy glanced up and discovered only lively interest in the older woman’s face. “Well, the two are kind of connected. I never knew I was psychic until my husband died, but, you see, he’s with me, even now. I started seeing him during his funeral. He’s sitting over there in the rocker.”
Malcolm obligingly rocked the rocker, and it moved.
“HOW are you doing that!” screamed the old man. “TELL ME!’
“Oh, my goodness,” said Anna. “Oh, my goodness!”
“And your Arturo has been yelling at me for being an evil woman since I rang the doorbell. Right now, actually, he’s yelling at my husband because my husband knows how to make things move and your husband doesn’t.”
“He was always terribly competitive. Had to have a greener lawn than Rusty and Mrs. Kay, had to have a better barbecue, had to have a bigger office at work,” said Anna.
“That’s right. Betray me. Stab me in the back!” Arturo cried.
“Had to have a prettier wife,” said Anna, and smiled, showing her dimples.
“How can you talk like this to strangers, Anna! I was always respectful of you!”
“He says he was always respectful of you,” Wendy relayed.
“Of course, of course. He knew what a prize he had in me.” She dimpled again, her eyes dancing.
“Well, you see, if he doesn’t find relief somehow I don’t know how I can move into your house. I can see him, and he keeps screaming at me.”
Anna looked up, glanced around. “Arturo!” she cried.
“What? What, what?” he said.
“What do you want?”
“I want to be with you, my little Anna,” he said in a caressing voice. His face had softened; it was the first time Wendy had seen him smile.
Wendy translated.
“Well, come on then to the retirement village with me,” said Anna.
“I built myself into this house. I can’t leave.”
Wendy and Malcolm looked at each other. Then Wendy turned to Anna and repeated word for word what Arturo had said.
Anna began to cry. Arturo stood beside the couch, holding out his hands to her but not bringing them close enough to touch or go through her. After a little while, Anna said, “How is it that your ghost husband goes with you, while mine is trapped here?”
Wendy fished the locket up on its chain from where it had been hiding inside her blouse. “This belonged to Malcolm’s mother. She died when he was six, and his father gave him the locket. He took it with him everywhere. The night we got married, he gave it to me. I think that was harder for him than any other part of our relationship, because it was like handing me a part of himself to take care of. He was always afraid I would lose it. But he gave it to me anyway.
“We’ve been talking about this ever since he returned to me. We don’t really know how it works, but we believe that when people invest themselves strongly in a physical object it can act as an anchor for them after death. Malcolm is attached to the locket. He can get about a block away from it, if he wants to; but if he goes any further than that he feels vague, like he’s about to fall apart. Our dream was to build the locket into the house so we could share the house and he could finally feel safe. But now, you see, your husband has attached to the house—”
Anna smoothed the tears away from her eyes and looked up. “The house is too big for me,” she said in a low voice. “I cannot stand it alone.”
“But Anna, you’re not alone,” said Arturo.
“I am not going to stay,” Anna said. “I simply can’t.”
“How can you break a promise like that, a life promise we made to each other?” Arturo cried.
Without hearing him, she held up her hands. “Look,” she whispered. Her hands were tremoring. “And there are little gaps…I wake and find myself in the chair when a moment before I was in the bathroom, brushing my hair. Time has started slipping away from me.” She stilled her hands in her lap. “You see,” she said, and paused. She took a breath. “You see, I need help.”
“No!” Arturo cried. “We promised to take care of each other. We promised we would be strong for each other. We promised we would stand against the world together. We promised we would never need anyone but each other. Anna, you don’t even know these people!”
Wendy slid closer on the couch and reached for Anna’s hand. It trembled in her grasp.
“Anna!” cried Arturo.
“Do you remember your wedding vows?” Wendy asked Anna.
“Oh, I remember everything about our wedding, my dear, right down to the bootleg whiskey in the back room. My sister Mary and I spent hours stitching seed pearls onto the lace of my wedding dress. And every word of our vows - well, they were not so rare, in any case. Love, honor, and obey.”
“What did Arturo say to you?”
Anna sighed. “Love, honor, and cherish.”
Wendy looked at Arturo’s ghost. “Sir,” she said to him. “Do you love, honor, and cherish this woman more than you do your house? More than you do a promise she can’t keep?”
“You don’t understand,” he said. He walked away through a wall.
“What?” said Anna. “What does he say?”
“He’s gone.”
Malcolm rose from the rocking chair. “I’ll see what I can find out,” he said. He followed Arturo through the wall, leaving the chair rocking gently.
“He’s gone?” Anna whispered. “He doesn’t forgive me, does he?” Her voice got a little louder. “He never could stand weakness in any form.” She bent her head to the side, her eyes gazing at the red plaid rug. “He said we were like two pillars together. We could build a life and a family on our shoulders. He said we were strong like two foundation stones, and we could share our strength by holding hands. But his hand is not here any longer, and I am not a stone, and neither was he.” She placed her hand flat over her face, covering her right eye. “Now you tell me,” she murmured to the carpet, “he has been here all along, and I didn’t even sense him. He told me to always lean on him when I was troubled, but how can I lean on someone I can’t even see?”
Wendy rubbed her thumb over the back of Anna’s hand, gently stroking the cabled veins and arteries, feeling the tendons beneath her touch.
“I have to go and live among strangers. I have to trust unknown caretakers to watch out for me. I live in the ruin of my own body and I cannot rebuild. Pride cannot mortar my walls any longer.” Her hand tightened on Wendy’s. “It was so hard to make this decision, but I have been contemplating it for a long time. Arturo died three years ago, and I knew…I knew I couldn’t support everything we had built together. Now I’ve made the hardest decision of my life, and here he comes, making it much harder again. If only I could hear him and answer his arguments myself! A good fight used to clear the air for us.”
Wendy frowned. “Wait. Wait.” She sucked on her lower lip.
“What is it? Is he back?”