Chapter 6.3 - The Old Life Visits

“Close the door! Good grief!” Grandfather shouted behind her. Claire turned on her heels and obliged, dragging the heavy door closed and wondering why that made her feel uncomfortable. Much like cats, and if he admitted it to himself, her grandfather, she didn’t like closed doors. Once a passageway is open, people unconsciously resent artificial barriers to it. Claire thought how lucky she was to live in the countryside, where leaving the front door open for the greater portion of the day was considered a sign of good manners. She remembered that during the early years of her blessed childhood that front door was staying not only unlocked, but swung wide open, so that the occasional visitor wouldn’t feel awkward about coming in if the grandparents happened to be engaged in the back yard or the kitchen and couldn’t hear them knock.

Come evening however the house went into lock down mode and became a fortress with drawbridges and moats. It was as if the sun was the unerring guardian of its inhabitants and once it went past the horizon, the poor dwellers had no option but to fend for themselves. Night wasn’t a friend in their home. Strange things happened at night. Weird  creatures came out at night. Night was dangerous.

Claire gave in to a gleeful burst of laughter in answer to this thought and conceded, surprised, that she was in a very good mood. She picked up her step as she approached the oak tree, eager to spend some time with her old friend. Not the most normal kind of behavior for a grown woman, if she cared to consider what normal behavior would be like, which she didn’t. She couldn’t think of a single circumstance in her adult life when doing the “normal” thing yielded anything short of disappointing. In time “normal” had evolved into the fountainhead of busy work, health concerns, financial struggles, irritating daily hassles, disappointing relationships, mediocrity, buried bitterness, slander and giving up. Midway through her grown up years Claire took a really good look at “normal” and ran for her life. 

Unfortunately for her, this unjustifiable defection from the social norm added a lot of undue stress to her life, mostly engendered by well wishing self appointed saviors who tried to steer her back to a way of being that seemed to make everybody happy. Everybody but Claire.

She half opened her eyes to let in just enough of the comforting sunshine and gazed upon a familiar figure walking towards the house down the alley flanked by large oak trees.

“Oh, God no! How in the world did she find me here?” 

The familiar figure approached Claire effusively, all smiles, presumption and self assurance. Even looking at her made Claire tired.

“Oh, honey,” the unexpected guest looked around, half joking, “we really have to get you out of here, what were you thinking!”

“Hi, Janice,” Claire smiled politely, mad at herself that life had carved that socially acceptable smile on her face so deep she couldn’t help but sprout it on demand, like a little daisy.

“How have you been?” Janice continued. “No, don’t tell me,” she put her palm out to block any potential feedback. “You decided to take up bee keeping.”

“Something like that,” Claire thought. “Bees I like.” She scraped through the bottom of her brain to recover social niceties and found an adequate conversation piece. “What brings you here?”

“Darling, everybody is asking about you, it’s like you dropped off the face of the earth or something, we were so worried!” Janice’s words kept flowing in Claire’s direction, but her eyes were scanning her surroundings as if looking for potential dangers. She didn’t feel safe in this backwards corner of the world, despite its bucolic beauty.

Claire didn’t answer, she just continued staring at her conversation partner in a way that made the latter even more uncomfortable. 

“Anyway,” Janice looked down, “things are really busy right now and we all miss you, I came here to bring you back and I’m not leaving without you. Not a moment too soon, it looks like,” she scanned the landscape again for that unseen danger lurking in the shadows. For the first time since this unbelievable adventure of her soul had started, Claire felt really grateful for her otherworldly kin. Inside her mind she quietly thanked the tall man for watching over her and his familiar figure nodded his head and smiled in response. This unseen world she had discovered was getting better and better by the minute.

“I’m actually not able to do that right now, Janice, I have other commitments,” she finally responded.

“Doing what?” Janice blurted, genuinely shocked that one could find anything to do in this godforsaken place. 

“Things need attention with the estate, I have to be around to address them.”

“You are not a building manager, we’ll find you someone to take care of the property if that’s the sticking point.”

“These are not things a stranger can take care of, it’s really personal stuff,” Claire replied, annoyed that she had to explain her choices to a stranger who assumed she had the right to run her life for her. “I can’t leave.”

“You’re burying your career, you know that, right? If you don’t come with me right now it’s going to be too late. Everybody already forgot who you were, memories are not that long in this field, one wrong step and you’re yesterday’s news.”

“Yeah, that’s part of the problem,” Claire smiled undeterred. “I’m sorry, Janice. Things can’t be helped.”

“Well, I did my part,” Janice dropped the effusiveness and her gaze suddenly became distracted, drawn to more important people and tasks. Claire couldn’t help wonder who of the many people she knew had forced Janice to come all the way out here and scuff her shoes. The latter didn’t look very pleased about it.

Artist Claire watched Janice’s struggle to keep her heels out of the fine gravel of the alley, which had not been intended for the greater fineries of fashion, and turned around to see her grandmother approach the table with a bowl of apples.

“Who was that?” Grandmother asked, curious.

“Oh, nobody,” Claire tried to derail the unwanted details.

“Claire!”

“Somebody from work,” Claire yielded.

“Why didn’t you ask her to stay over for coffee, we would have loved to meet her, she must think we’re so rude!” Grandmother fussed embarrassed.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, maman.”

“Did you tell her about your paintings? Maybe she can help. You shouldn’t shun your connections, Claire. You never know when somebody you know might be able to help.”

Claire pondered the thought that if that exhibit she had reluctantly agreed to work on had one chance of happening, it was because Janice didn’t find out about it until it was too late to inflict real damage. She wondered what would be worse, lying to her grandmother, which she never wanted to do, or telling her the truth and taking the risk of being pressured into doing things she knew were not going to be good for her

 Even the most heartfelt advice runs afoul when it is offered in the absence of pertinent information. Much as it pained Claire, she decided on option one.

“Yes, of course I did,” she looked down, embarrassed. “She’ll look into it.”

Grandmother stared at her, disappointed, shook her head and started peeling apples with nervous gestures. She really hated it when her granddaughter didn’t tell her the truth.

“Well,” she continued as if the latter hadn’t said anything at all. “You’ll be better off in New Orleans anyway.”