We moved off and walked down the avenue, side by side,
matching our pace to the leisurely stroll of the people around
US.
‘Want breakfast first?’ I said. ‘We don’t want to wake her.’
‘The nurse will let us in.’
We passed the post office. There was a car abandoned halfway
up on the sidewalk. It had been in some kind of an
accident. It had a smashed fender and a flat tyre. We stepped
out into the street to pass it by. Saw a large black vehicle
double-parked on the road forty yards ahead.
We stared at it.
‘Un corbillard,’ Joe said.
A hearse.
We stared at it. Tried to figure which building it was waiting
at. Tried to gauge the distance. The head-on perspective made
it difficult. I glanced upward at the roof lines. First came a
limestone Belle Epoque facade, seven storeys high. Then a drop
to my mother’s plainer six-storey building. I traced my gaze
vertically all the way down the frontage. To the street. To the
hearse. It was parked right in front of my mother’s door.
We ran.
There was a man in a black silk hat standing on the sidewalk.
The street door to my mother’s building was open. We glanced
at the man in the hat and went in through the door to the
courtyard. The concierge was standing in her doorway. She had
a handkerchief in her hand and tears in her eyes. She paid us no attention. We headed for the elevator. Rode up to five. The
elevator was agonizingly slow.
The door to the apartment was standing open. I could see
men in black coats inside. Three of them. We went in. The men
in the coats stood back. They said nothing. The girl with the
luminous eyes came out of the kitchen. She looked pale. She
stopped when she saw us. Then she turned and walked slowly
across the room to meet us.
308
‘What?’ Joe said.
She didn’t answer.
‘When?’ I said.
‘Last night,’ she said. ‘It was very peaceful.’
The men in the coats realized who we must be and shuffled
out into the hallway. They were very quiet. They made no noise
at all. Joe took an unsteady step and sat down on the sofa. I
stayed where I was. I stood still in the middle of the floor.
‘When?’ I said again.
‘At midnight,’ the girl said. ‘In her sleep.’
I closed my eyes. Opened them again a minute later. The girl
was still there. Her eyes were on mine.
‘Were you with her?’ I said.
She nodded.
‘All the time,’ she said.
‘Was there a doctor here?’
‘She sent him away.’
‘What happened?’
‘She said she felt well. She went to bed at eleven. She slept an
hour, and then she just stopped breathing.’
I looked up at the ceiling. ‘Was she in pain?’
‘Not at the end.’
‘But she said she felt well.’
‘Her time had come. I’ve seen it before.’ I looked at her, and then I looked away.
‘Would you like to see her?’ the girl said.
‘Joe?’ I said. He shook his head. Stayed on the sofa. I stepped
towards the bedroom. There was a mahogany coffin set up on
velvet-padded trestles next to the bed. It was lined with white
silk and it was empty. My mother’s body was still in the bed.
The sheets were made up around her. Her head was resting
gently on the pillow and her arms were crossed over her chest
outside the covers. Her eyes were closed. She was barely
recognizable.
Summer had asked me.” Does it upset you to see dead people?
No, I .had said.
Why not? she had asked me.
I don’t know, I had said.
I had never seen my father’s body. I was away somewhere
309
when he died. It had been a heart thing. Some VA hospital had
done its best, but it was hopeless from the start. I had flown in
on the morning of the funeral and had left again the same night. Funeral, I thought. Joe will handle it.
I stayed by my mother’s bed for five long minutes, eyes open,
eyes dry. Then I turned around and stepped back into the living