Danielle

Chapter 2 of The Last Word Cemetery

Danielle

 

Zillah, one of Tobias’s nieces, was in tears because plans for her fifteenth birthday party were in ruins. Her heart was set on attending the New York City Ballet’s performance of Stravinsky’s The Firebird, along with four of her girlfriends. Zillah’s father was away on business, and her mother, Rachel, had contracted a nasty cold. No one else in the family was eager to escort a gaggle of teenage girls, so Tobias stepped forward. After all, it would be a new experience, he thought, and besides, he unapologetically enjoyed the ballet.

Into the theater walked the birthday procession, led by Tobias, an elegant version of Ichabod Crane, in a black velvet coat and butter-colored, silk shirt. Around him flitted and chattered the girls, in their pastel party dresses. The sight of this odd but delightful little group elicited smiles and nods from the patrons.

Unable to resist the opportunity to poke ridicule, a couple friendly rivals sought out Tobias to compliment him on his role of “mother duck.” Tobias remained unflappable, responding with, “Won’t you congratulate my niece, Zillah? This is her fifteenth birthday.” The wiseacre then was obliged to politely shake the girl’s hand and wish her a happy birthday.

Tobias did begin to wonder if the girls’ noise and fidgeting would ever cease. At last, the house lights dimmed, the heavy, red curtain began to rise, and that magical sense of anticipation descended over the audience. As the orchestra began the slightly ominous strains of the prelude, one of the girls whispered to Zillah, “It’s kind of spooky!” Then the celesta’s chromatic arpeggio rang out over the heavy chords, sending a thrill down their spines. The girls giggled for a last time and hushed as the dancers appeared and the enchantment began.

The Firebird burst onto the stage and danced in Tobias’s heart forever. Never had Tobias seen the Firebird danced with such passion and precision. An uncanny combination of fluidity and abrupt, birdlike movements transformed the ballerina perfectly into the role, making the legend come alive.

But who was this sorceress? Tobias turned to the back of his program and found her write-up. Danielle Orlando was her name. She had studied in London and began performing there. Looking through his opera glasses, he attempted to discern her features between leaps and pirouettes as the Firebird eluded the arms of the huntsman. Danielle Orlando’s auburn hair flamed under the orange-red spotlights. She was indeed beautiful, but not in the ordinary way. A high-bridged, aquiline nose and huge, dark eyes gave her a slightly exotic look, which lent credibility to the idea of a human transforming into another creature.

Danielle seemed strangely familiar to Tobias, yet he was certain he had never seen even her photograph before. His heart beat faster, and a combination of elation and melancholy swept over him. He succumbed to what seemed to be a stroke of fate: He had to love Danielle Orlando.

The next day, Tobias wrote the ballerina a long letter of introduction. As he composed his thoughts, he pondered the irony that his would be just another fan letter to be ignored if not for his family name. Tobias couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty at the immediate entrée his privileged status gave him. But then, he recalled a conversation with a Buddhist monk during a retreat he had attended recently in Thailand. “Do not feel guilty for your good fortune,” the monk had told him. “It is your karma and you must accept it. However, you are obliged to do as much as you can for others, and always be mindful.” Tobias sighed. Fair exchange. I will do that, sir, he said to himself.

 

Tobias and Danielle met, married and spent eight idyllic years together. Danielle continued her performing career, with Tobias’s encouragement and support. During the ballet’s off season, they traveled the world, sharing experiences and forging new friendships.

There was one tradition the couple established that was to have a significance beyond anything they could have imagined. Tobias and Danielle held an informal, weekly open house at the family estate in the Virginia countryside. Friends and acquaintances had a standing invitation to drop in on Thursday evenings. A board was set with light supper faire, and guests came and went until half past nine.

It was at one of these little “salons” that Lobsang Liu made his appearance, with one of Danielle’s artist friends on his arm.

Lobsang Liu was not more than twenty-five. He had a slender but muscular build and square-jawed good looks. He was appropriately dressed for a get-together with students and academics, but perhaps not so appropriately for the present company. He wore a multi-pocketed hiking vest over a tee shirt imprinted with the photograph of Albert Einstein sticking out his tongue. Along with the requisite blue jeans, he was shod in the requisite overpriced, overly engineered athletic shoes.

Lobsang’s discomfort was obvious as his girlfriend introduced him to one well-known person after another. Tobias picked up on this and walked him to the smorgasbord, where he recommended his personal favorites and poured him a glass of wine.

With his guest more at ease, Tobias brought him back to the group. “We’re glad you could visit with us this evening, Lobsang. By the way, that’s a Tibetan name, isn’t it?”

Lobsang grinned and ran his fingers through his thatch of shiny black hair, revealing penetrating, intelligent eyes.

Danielle interjected, “Oh Tobias, I’ll bet Lobsang is tired of explaining his name.”

“I don’t mind, really,” he said good naturedly. “Yes, it’s a Tibetan name, but my parents are Chinese. My dad was on a Lobsang Rampa jag�"read all his books�"when my mom was pregnant with me. I think he expected me to be a guru or something.”

Over polite laughter, Tobias said, “Is that so? I read all those books when I was young.”

I actually like this man, Lobsang thought.

“So tell us, Lobsang,” Tobias asked, “what do you do in life?”

Mariana, Lobsang’s date, broke in. “I have to tell you, it sounds nerdy, but he’s really very creative.” She sat back and nodded for Lobsang to continue.

“Well,” he cleared his throat and began, “I’m head of research and programming at CyberGraphics, outside Boston.”

A few eyebrows went up.

As Lobsang ventured into home territory, his initial awkwardness disappeared, and his enthusiasm for his work took over. “My specialty is holographic optics. Right now, I’m working on micro-geometry for improved facial accuracy. That and increasing the camera refresh rate with chemically reactive, photorefractive materials, to eliminate the flickering that, you know�"”

Mariana hugged Lobsang’s arm and playfully exclaimed, “No, Lobsang, most people don’t know!” and rolled her eyes up at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Lobsang said, embarrassed.

“Not at all!” Tobias reassured him.

A young woman dressed in vintage black lace and combat boots piped up. “You must be talking about those holograms of dead pop stars they’ve been showing. I saw them in person, and there was no ‘flickering.’ They looked flawless to me,” she sniffed.

Lobsang’s eyes danced and he responded in a firm voice: “Aha! What you saw were not real holograms. They were produced by a very old illusion called Pepper’s Ghost.”

 “Pepper’s Ghost?” sprinkled liberally around the room.

“Yes,” Lobsang continued. “Those images may have looked three dimensional, but they were two-dimensional projections. My work involves 3-D images you can walk around and view from any direction. A natural object reflects light waves; a true hologram does exactly the same thing.”

He turned to face the black lace lady. “My work has nothing to do with stage magic.”

She responded by tossing back the hair of the unshaved half of her head.

“Holography is manipulating light like a sculptor carves marble.”

Everyone in the room was attentive, contemplating the vision of the inspired young man.

Tobias rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “What would you most like to achieve in your work, Lobsang?”

Lobsang drew a deep breath. “I would like to develop life-sized holograms�"whether of people or objects�"that can interact to some degree with the viewer. The applications are almost endless�"product demos, telemedicine, manufacturing, remote conferencing, and of course, entertainment. Our lives would be changed.”

A murmur of admiration circulated around the room. “Interesting,” remarked a bank president, over his cup of tea.

Danielle had been listening with rapt attention. “Your parents must be very proud,” she commented.

“Um…” Lobsang pondered exactly how to state the truth, deciding on simply stating the truth. He laughed nervously, then explained, “Mom, yeah, pretty proud. My dad is too, I guess, but he has a different take on things.”

He looked around. Everyone seemed receptive enough, so he went on. “Dad likes to buck the stereotype of the Asian nerd always doing science and math. And of course, he thinks I should, too. He says we need to be better represented in the trades and services, like construction and police work. That’s why he became a fireman.”

“A fireman?” someone asked.

“I know,” Lobsang responded. “Who ever heard of a Chinese fireman? Guess he couldn’t get enough of the fire drill jokes.”

Everyone laughed heartily, along with Lobsang. “Yeah, now he’s Fire Marshal Liu�"go figure.”

Lobsang Liu was the hit of the soirée. Tobias was sure to get his business card before he left that night, and from then on, the young scientist made it a point to visit the Thursday gatherings whenever he was in town.

 

Almost a year passed since Lobsang made his entrance into the McCreedy circle. Tobias’s businesses and charities thrived, and Danielle continued her ballet career. The couple’s relationship was affectionate and close. The only off-note in the happy concerto was an intense fatigue that sometimes came over Danielle toward the end of a performance.

“When that happens, it’s willpower that gets me through, not my body,” she told Tobias. “But I guess that’s to be expected. A dancer’s career is a short one; I’m an old lady for a ballerina.”

Tobias laughed and giving her a hug said, “Just cut back on your schedule, darling. I’m sure you’ll feel better right away.”

Danielle cut her appearances by half, allowing her understudy to fill in. The fatigue lifted somewhat, but would return randomly, even when she was well rested. Soon Tobias noticed a sallowness to her complexion, and she began to lose weight. Visits to several doctors and batteries of tests confirmed that Danielle was suffering from pancreatic cancer. It already had progressed to stage three.

The diagnosis left them both senseless; no tears at first, just shock. Leaving the doctor’s office after receiving the news, they held each other tightly for a long time, as if their resolute embrace would root them indefinitely in that time and in that place. The disease that needed time to feed on Danielle’s body would be arrested then and there. But no. They released each other, time rolled on and the inevitable drew nearer.

“We’re going to fight this; you’ll be fine, my darling,” was the obligatory resolution Tobias made to Danielle, the same one everyone makes in this sad situation.

“Of course, my love, we will beat this, so don’t worry about me, please,” Danielle had to respond.

Tobias dropped everything to care for Danielle. Fortunately, his siblings were sincere in their offers of help and assumed Tobias’s corporate duties.

The lovers traveled to doctors and clinics throughout the United States. There were minor remissions of the cancer, followed by redoubled virulence. Time was running out, so they set off for Europe. Tobias tried, to the extent Danielle’s strength allowed, to make a vacation out of the medical odyssey. They revisited their favorite sites and made plans for the future, each with the intent of lightening the heart of the other.

The fund of medical knowledge ran out long before Tobias’s fortune would have. The time came when there was no place left to go; no one left to consult. It was time to go home.

 

The sky was white and snow was on the ground as the limo slowly made its way up the long drive. Archie, the normally chatty chauffeur, was silent. No one spoke. This was not a happy homecoming; it was not a return to the familiar routine after a vacation filled with adventures to be recollected for years over gradually fading photographs. The only sounds were the lulling, monotonous hum of the motor and the crunch of the snow beneath the tires. Now and then, a jay cried out a warning…definitely a warning.

When they reached the mansion, all the servants, some of the locals, friends and family members awaited them outside on the steps and in the entry portico. Many found it difficult to hide their shock at seeing Danielle’s wasted frame and huge eyes that sparkled feverishly in a haunted face.

There were expressions of welcome and attempts at small talk, but a sort of respectful hush descended over the group as Tobias and the chauffeur helped the moribund woman up the front steps.

“This is all very nice, Danielle whispered to Tobias, “but I feel like I’m returning from my own funeral.” She giggled mischievously. Tobias scolded her gently and held her closer to him.

 

One evening, a few days after their return, Danielle summoned all her strength and courage and went in to Tobias. She had put on make-up, and her hair framed her face in a short, cherubic fringe, having grown back after the last chemotherapy treatment. In a further attempt at normalcy, instead of a robe or lounging pajamas, Danielle dressed in blue jeans, a tee shirt and sneakers.

At the doorway to the study where Tobias was reading, she paused and readied herself. She pulled her shoulders down and back, lifted her chin and walked in with a controlled, gliding step, as if she were going on stage. She trusted her dance training to take care of her body, for the task ahead consumed her mind.

Tobias was seated in an oversized armchair, reading an old, leather-bound book. A brocade robe covered a blousy shirt and dark trousers. His feet, in worn carpet slippers, were propped on a tufted ottoman. He looked up with a start when Danielle entered.

A huge smile spread over his face, and his eyes twinkled with delight as he looked Danielle up and down. “Danielle! How well you look! You remind me of that funny, little tomboy girl in West Side Story.”

Danielle threw back her head and laughed, tousling her hair with her hands. “That is so true! Anybody’s�"that’s me!” She sang out, “Ta-DEE-da-da-dum!” and mimicked some of the finger-snapping steps from the choreography.

Tobias was overjoyed. “This is wonderful! Danielle! You’re dancing!” He stood, took Danielle by both hands and waltzed her around the room. Laughing, fanning her face with her hand, she led him back to his chair and sat on the ottoman, facing him.

“Now let’s take a look at you, Tobias,” she said playfully. “Do you realize there’s not one thing about you, sitting there, that places you in this century? You’re so�"timeless! It’s one of the things I love about you!”

Tobias laughed, brushed off his lapels and held up his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

Danielle knew she must shatter Tobias’s joy at seeing her so lively and happy because death would not relent in shattering her. It broke her heart, but she went on. Taking Tobias’s hands in hers, she looked into his eyes and spoke in a faltering voice.

“Tobias, I want to talk about something that’s very important to me.”

Tobias leaned forward and kissed her hand. “Of course. What is it, darling?”

“Tobias, I won’t be here much longer�"I know that�"we both do.”

At these words, Tobias flinched as though he had been pierced through the heart. He shook his head…his voice was foggy. “No! No, I won’t hear�"”

Danielle insisted. “Tobias, please, let me be a little selfish.” She caressed his cheek. “Humor me in this, please.”

“Very well,” Tobias whispered. “What is it? I’ll do anything.”

Danielle smiled bravely, sighed and went on. “This may seem silly…but after I’m gone, I want there to be a little more left of me than a bone and a stone.” She laughed and shrugged self-consciously.

Tobias’s head dropped. The piercing sensation in his chest bored deeper.

“I want more than a name, a couple dates and maybe a ‘Beloved Wife,’ or a ‘Rest in Peace.’ ” Then with a giggle, “Oh, please, Tobias, don’t give me a ‘Rest in Peace!’ ”

Tobias’s attempt at a smile made him look even sadder. “No,” he responded almost inaudibly.

Danielle stood up and continued speaking, her eyes focused beyond Tobias…beyond the walls of the study. “I don’t believe death is one, long rest. How boring! I think it’ll be one adventure after another…it’ll be so exciting being able to travel the universe, experience unimaginable things without a body to weigh us down. And, Tobias my love, after you join me, we’ll be sharing all of this! I’ll be waiting for you, to show you everything�"to be your guide!”

She paused and added with a smile, “But of course, don’t hurry, darling. Live as long and as happily as you possibly can. You’re a good man and you have a lot of good still to do in this world.”

She held Tobias’s eyes with her gaze. “Here’s what I want to ask of you, love. I want you to write an epitaph that expresses what I’ve just told you. I know there’s not much room on a tombstone, but something that says I’m not down there, with my paws in the air, waiting or resting, or somewhere playing a ridiculous harp.”

She laughed again, hoping Tobias would join in her levity.

Tobias turned away. Big tears started to roll down his cheeks despite his efforts to hold them back. Danielle took his hand away from his eyes and wiped them, saying, “Can you do that for me, my darling?”

Tobias kissed the palm of her hand and forced himself to face her. “Nothing…nothing could come close to doing you justice, my love…but yes, I’ll do my best…. I will!”

Danielle sighed with relief. “Ah! Good! That’s wonderful.”

Her goal accomplished, the energy she had summoned left her body. Danielle’s head drooped and her body sagged like a marionette whose strings had been severed. Tobias jumped up and held her, to keep her from falling. He had to put his ear to her mouth to hear what she was trying to say.

“Take me upstairs now, Tobias. Need to rest,” was all she could utter.

Tobias tenderly scooped up Danielle’s sparrow-light form and carried her up to bed.

 

Late the next afternoon, Tobias entered the bedroom where Danielle lay propped up in bed, listening to music.

“How do you feel, darling?” he said, then leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“Okay. I’m okay,” Danielle replied with a weak smile. “What’s that?” she asked, lowering her eyes to a sheet of blue parchment in Tobias’s hand.

“It’s….” He hesitated, then forced out the words. “It’s the…the verse…the poor, little verse you wanted me to write for….” His voice trailed off and he stared imploringly at Danielle.

“Oh, fantastic!” Danielle sat up cross-legged. “Read it to me. Please!”

Tobias’s hands shook. He took a deep breath and read in a soft and gentle voice:

 

When they lay you by my side

It will not be to rest,

For eagerly I will await,

Your hand to take, your soul to show

Sights, wonders, worlds and truths untold,

Then both filled with light and song,

Soar home to God’s own breast.

 

Tobias laid the paper on the coverlet and hid his face in his hands.

“Oh, Tobias,” Danielle said, and took his hands in hers.

“It’s a poor thing, my love, it’s too…it doesn't even rhyme…I’m sorry,” he apologized.

“No! No, it’s beautiful! It’s not too anything! It’s perfect. Exactly the way I want it to be…the way it will be! Thank you, dear Tobias.”

Tobias gathered Danielle in his arms. “It’s not good enough…nothing is.” He looked at her desperately. “I would pull angels out of the air for you, Danielle. If only I could!”

Danielle smiled. “I know you would, Tobias. I know… .”

 

Danielle died two weeks later. The epitaph Tobias had written was engraved on a marble stone that spanned her grave and the space reserved for him. Over the ensuing months and years, it pleased and touched him to see bouquets of red flowers, some embellished with red feathers, left by strangers in memory of Danielle’s brilliant Firebird.

On the morning of Danielle’s death, after the mortuary men had taken away her body, Tobias stood in front of the window of the main living room and looked out at the world with new eyes. He saw the pines, all sturdy rectitude, their branches stirring slightly. Jays and sparrows went about their business, unperturbed. The cloud-scrimmed sun hung in its proper position in the heavens for that time of day. A woman and her dog passed by on their daily jog, right on schedule.

It seemed to Tobias that Danielle’s vast soul had merged with the scene�"the trees, the sky, the birds. She had become spread throughout the universe so thinly that she was now invisible to him.

At the same time, it was so indifferent, this business-as-usual world! It was an insult! An affront! The trees, the birds, the sun, woman, dog�"didn’t they know�"couldn't they feel�"Danielle was dead! How can everything appear the same? Tobias thought. All of nature should be changed because she is no longer a part of it!

As Tobias moved through his daily life, an irrational part of him would say, She can’t have vanished totally. Somewhere in this wide world�"walking in a park, in a theater dressing room, in a hospital, driving down the coast�"she must be lost or hiding there. I just have to find her again.

Tobias had not taken leave of his senses. He knew his thoughts and impressions were illogical. But he couldn’t force himself to be objective. Those were his feelings; there was no way to reason them away.

He also realized full well that he was not unique; his grief was commonplace. Others had loved as much as he, persons as wonderful and worthy as Danielle. Again, it mattered not. Tobias sank into an immense pool of communal sorrow with uncounted others just like him.

Then a new and terrifying rendition of the dark night of the soul began to play ceaselessly in Tobias’s brain. What is this sinking feeling in my stomach? he asked himself. What is this constant agitation? The answer came…it was a demon chasing him, chanting, “There is nothing more! She’s gone forever! You’ll never see her again!” Not an actual demon, of course, but the Void. The ghastly possibility of nothingness that can be neither proved nor disproved.

    “No! No!” he said out loud to no one. “It can’t be so! But even if it is, I can’t live that way!” Tobias resolved not to succumb, but to scream back at the demon guarding the chasm that swallowed lives after the memories of a couple generations had faded. He didn’t know how he would accomplish it, but he would do something on behalf of Danielle and as much of mankind as he could reach.