Heaven's heart

The streetlights go out at two-o-clock in the morning, so the light from the township becomes more noticeable. It is like a transparent layer of candy floss, there to impede his view. Looking up at the stars twinkling through the semi darkness helps him to forget that he is on his own. To Phil, they are miniature leprechauns, occasionally peeping from behind occasional clouds; each one involved in the slow but incessant dance of time.

Apparently, the air is clearer in Winter. However, to stay warm, he observes the sky through the glass windows of his upstairs den, which cancels the enhances visual effect.

In ancient times, people’s souls went, to join the ‘Imperishable Stars’ that made up the Great Bear or Plough in the northern sky. Yesterday, he had studied a photograph of the billions of stars that exist there, and he wonders if that is where Margaret went. Phil focusses his binoculars and searches hard, but he cannot locate the space station from where the photograph of the constellation had been taken.

Phil is interrupted by a sound, and instinctively, he frowns and freezes. It is the crack of a tree branch being broken underfoot. He was disturbed the yesterday, but tonight the noise is more distinctive. It comes from the North side of his property to his right. Someone or something big enough to break a big twig, one that will make a loud crack, is prowling outside.

He carefully stands and edges to the side of the window, where he focusses his lenses on the garden below. When he does not find anything, he leaves his den and creeps to the rear bedroom, which has a north facing window. Phil scans the ground below but once more, he sees nothing. Every cell in his body tingles as he closes his eyes and listens intently though the thump of his heartbeat for any sound made by the intruder. The seconds are elongated and stretch into forever. Then, back to now, he tenses like a spring being coiled, when he hears the squeak of the door to the screen that surrounds the patio, being pulled open. His options crowd his mind: Lock the door of the bedroom and stay quiet; go downstairs and confront the intruder; call the police or call Jim his neighbour for assistance.

Instinctively, Phil edges towards the stairs where he peers through the darkness, looking for any sign that the person has entered. He crouches down, then sits on the second step from the top, all his senses on red alert. He is gratified that he locked the rear door before he went upstairs. Jim had been burgled three weeks earlier and, since then, Phil had ensured that all the entrances are bolted. He had considered buying a handgun and wondered now, if having one would give him comfort. He finds the thought of killing someone, even an intruder, horrific.

After what seems like a significant interval, Phil stands and gingerly creeps down the stairs, one at a time. His heart is beating heavily when he peeps round the doorway at the entrance to the kitchen. The faint light from the electronic clock on the cooker provides sufficient illumination for him to see that the kitchen is empty and that the rear door is still closed. After another few moments listening for any signs of movement, Phil breathes in deeply through his nose and then breathes out again. He knows that if he puts on the light, he will be visible to whoever is prowling outside. Instinctively, he moves towards the doors to the rear patio and, watching carefully, he switches on the lights that illuminate the outside area. He looks intently but he sees and hears nothing.

The morning has come, and Phil knocks on Jim’s door. Jim is his usual affable self: “Hi buddy, come in!” 

Phil walks into Jim’s kitchen area; “Did you hear anything last night? I heard someone in the yard, but I didn’t see who it was.”

“I was fast asleep! Sorry! We should contact the police. Someone is stalking our properties. We need to scare him or her off.”

Phil nods his agreement: “I nearly called you!”

“Coffee?”

Phil nods. Morning coffee with Jim is a treat: “Where do you buy your coffee? It is superb…” He is not surprised when Jim tells him that he buys his coffee at Wholefoods. It is not somewhere he frequents. He thinks that the prices are too high. Phil nods to say that he understands: “So what are we going to do about our intruder?”

Jim grimaces and breaths deeply: “I called the cops when I had the burglary. They promised tat they would keep me under surveillance, but I am sure that within a day, I went to the bottom of the pile. They have a lot on, without staking out properties, to wait for some casual intruder. Despite that, I do think you should let them know!”

Phil nods his agreement: “We could set up some kind of trap for him” he suggests

“What kind of trap?”

“I’m not sure! Maybe we should get a dog!”

“Yeah! We could sprinkle the outside area with broken glass, so it would crunch when he walks over it.”

Phil smiles: “You have been watching too many movies.”

Jim returns Phil’s smile and shrugs his shoulders: “Maybe, but it would work!”

Phil nods: “Okay! I will get a dog! You do the broken glass!”

Jim looks at Phil: “What about a gun?”

Phil shakes his head: “We would end up shooting one another!”

Reggie, the Golden Retriever lies on the couch opposite Phil.  He is just like the dog in the Jessie Stone movies, so Phil has copied the dog’s name. Its head is rested on its front paws with the same vigilant composure.

It is past two-o-clock in the morning and the streetlights have been switched off. Phil lifts his binoculars to study the stars, but as he does so, Reggie lifts his head, looks at Phil and his ears go to ‘alert’.

At the same moment, Phil discerns the tell-tale crunch of someone walking over the broken glass, that Jim has laid down at strategic points around the rear of both houses. “Let’s go Reggie!” Phil is out of his chair and is hopping down the stairs to the patio doors, which he throws open: “Go get him boy!” As he speaks, he switches on the lights to the outside area. His eyes go wide, and his head goes back in surprise. Stood looking at them both, like someone frozen in time and space, is the woman he has seen many times outside the local supermarket, who he knows as ‘the bag lady’.

Phil walks towards her and he speaks softly and slowly: “What are you doing here? What do you want?” There is silence. When she eventually replies, her voice sounds husky, as though her vocal chords have been scraped on the sands of time: “I have seen you looking at the stars. I thought I might find something heavenly, hidden in your garbage!”

Phil looks at the person in front of him, and he feels guilty; “What is your name?” The woman’s face breaks into a craggy smile; “I should tell you that it is Celest, but it’s Annie.

Phil shakes his head. He cannot help smiling back at her as he reacts; “Would you like to come in. You can have a shower and something to eat?” Without waiting for a reply, he turns and precedes her into the house. Reggie is sat on the step, looking directly at him with his head cocked to one side, as if he is questioning what he is doing. Phil points indoors: “Inside Reggie!”

While the woman, Annie, comes out of the shower, she is wrapped in a towel. Phil takes her through to the walk-in wardrobe where he shows her at Margaret’s clothes, still hanging on the rails. He opens one of the drawers and shakes his head when he sees the underwear.

“Help yourself!” he tells her, and he walks away, wondering if Margaret would approve. Reggie stays to observe.

Half an hour later, Annie is sat at the dining table eating cereal and drinking juice, while Phil whips up scrambled eggs. When he serves her and fills her cup with newly brewed coffee, he cannot help thinking what an elegant she must have been. He does not know the words to use; “How did you end up ….?”

Annie looks up from her food and smiles at him; “My husband died with debts. He left nothing.”

Phil frowns: “Surely you have family……?” She shakes her head, shrugs, and grimaces then she carries on eating. Her newly found benefactor stands and walks back to the coffee machine to fill up his own mug. Then, he returns to top up Annie’s cup. Reggie sits on his haunches, head high, watching his every movement.

Phil stands for a moment, coffee pot in hand. Tears come to his eyes and the words come to his lips with spontaneous ease: “You can have the spare bedroom and you are welcome to live here with me!”

Annie stops for a moment, looking down at her plate. When she eventually looks up at him, she too has tears in her eyes.