A CANDLE FOR NORA

     Nora lit all the candles she'd been saving for a special occasion. She had hoped it would be one to share with a very special man. Unfortunately, he had not shown up, or she had missed him when he did. Her depression had spread and grown to a new low. She knew she needed to do something before her mood got any worse. She went to the butcher shop two blocks down from the apartment and bought one pound of one their very best-looking steaks. It was porterhouse, a cut she had never even tasted before. At the grocery store, she bought fresh frozen whole asparagus and canned baby potatoes. She also purchased a freshly baked cheesecake and a quart of the best brand of chocolate ice cream Zigford's carried. Earlier, she had gone to the mall. It's difficult to feel badly in a place that is well-lit and brightly decorated. She'd ambled amongst the paintings and prints at Pickly's and bought one of ships sailing through a storm. At Gordon's, she found a flowered print dress that flattered her figure and low red pumps that accentuated her legs. She had also stopped by the local zoo and examined the snakes and other exotic animals with interest.
     Of all the official holidays, she decided, from now on she would call May 5th Nora's Day. Every year, she would celebrate her continued existence with a splurge of clothing and adventure and food. She heated a heavy skillet with butter and dropped the steak in with seasonings. The asparagus and potatoes were cooking. She set a table for herself. A checkered tablecloth, silver, a linen napkin and a clear vase of bright purple and pink wildflowers from the corner market completed the tableau. Candles flickered from the fireplace mantle and sideboard and dining table. She turned on her antique radio and found a classical station. The phone rang and Nora groaned. She really didn't want anyone or anything interfering with the careful ambiance she had arranged for that day. She considered letting it ring. Curiosity consumed her in the end and she picked up the receiver.
     "Hello?"
     "How's Nora's Day coming along?" Sherry asked. She had finally finished her spring cleaning. The summer curtains with their flowered print hung from the bedroom windows. The bed coverlet was a soft and plump pink. Artificial flowers graced tables and dressers and walls. Through the window to her left, she could see tulips pushing their way up and opening in riotous colors. Dave had just finished mowing the grass and it gleamed a wet bright green.
     Nora laughed. It was good to hear the voice of a friend. "It's coming along just fine." She glanced around the dark antique furniture that graced her small home. Many pieces were covered in lace. Brass claw feet gleamed from the chairs. She felt comfortable and light.
     Sherry worried about her friend's single status. It really wasn't safe to live alone in that town, although Nora assured her it was. She hated the thought of her friend riding and walking around by herself, prey to whatever ills lurked in corners and on the road. "Tell me about it."
     "No, I will tomorrow." Nora held the day so far to her chest. It was a dream come true and she had loved it to this point.
     Unlike Nora, who was an only child, her friend had grown up with brothers and sisters and cousins and neighbors in and out of her home. She was used to the bustle of people from morning to night. "Still want to spend it all by yourself?" Sherry inquired with concern.
     Again, Nora tried to explain. "It's good to be by yourself sometimes."
     "You're by yourself a lot," Sherry pointed out, reaching for her iced tea and sipping it slowly.
     "Well," Nora relented. "Would you like to stop by for coffee and cake and ice cream later on?"
     Sherry accepted quickly. "I'd love to. Shall I bring Dave and Tom too?"
     "No," Nora moaned quickly. "No men. Just you."
     Sherry considered it unhealthy to refuse the company of the opposite sex, or the visitations of friends. She wondered again about Nora's mental health and her determined unsociability. "Are you sure?"
     "Sure." Nora was determined to keep this day as much to herself as possible. It seemed to her that her days were constantly interrupted. She hadn't time for a complete thought. The phone rang and rang. She had her work, which took more and more of her extra time too. She had her volunteer duties, which tended to seem like other jobs as the presidents demanded this and that of her skills. She was tired, she reflected. Not just depressed, as she'd previously believed, but tired down to the marrow of her bones, the center of her heart, the deepest coils of her brain. She was particularly tired of men, bossing her around, putting her down, leaving her when she most needed them for help.
     "Really down on them, aren't you?" Sherry commiserated. She had her problems with Dave, but at least he did a lot of work around the house and yard without reminding. He even vacuumed and cooked a meal occasionally. And that was despite a job that required long hours and some weekends. His temperament was low-key, his humor soft, and his touch magic, still after all these years. She wished he touched her more, but his libido was set a few notches below hers. It didn't even seem to occur to him to take her to bed after gathering her in his arms at the back door, for instance, when he came home. She longed sometimes for the kind of man who would sweep her into the bed and make that passionate love she read about and dreamed of, but that was not Dave. She reminded herself to appreciate his good qualities, that no one was perfect in every respect.
     Nora reached for a fork and turned the steak. Then she turned the burners off under the potatoes and vegetables. She surveyed in her mind the tattered remains of her time with Tom and groaned. "It hasn't been a good year for those kind of relationships, no."
     "Just taking a break then?" Sherry encouraged her.
     "Well, I say to myself it's forever, but it probably isn't." Nora paused and considered a life without men. "I just need a breather from the game."
     "That's all right," Sherry consoled her. "No one can get along with Tom for long."
     "He's irascible," Nora noted with a grimace.
     Sherry shifted on the bed. Her education was less than she would like. She had been attending night school to improve it, along with her employment possibilities. Nora, on the other hand, had graduated with As and Bs from Holbrook Technical College. She specialized in accounting and worked in banks for most of her adult life. "What does that mean?" Sherry asked with hesitation. She hated admitting all that she didn't know but reminded herself over and over that she could not learn by pretending she knew what she did not.
     "Hot-tempered, easily angered," her friend explained.
     "Yes, he is," Sherry agreed with alacrity. "He knocked over that table on the porch yesterday. Got mad because his truck wouldn't start when he was ready to leave." Tom's anger was legendary in the neighborhood and people had learned to back off when they saw that fire come into his eyes. They turned red, it seemed, as his face got tight and pale. He stared down anyone who got in his face or his way. No one had ever known him to lose a fight. He was large, well-built, and he worked out on a regular basis at Piper's Gym. It was better to avoid than confront him on whatever differences might exist. Sherry, therefore, had never brought up with him what had led Nora to ask him to leave.
     "What was wrong with it?" Nora asked. She remembered easily chairs and tables and vases knocked over, as Tom lost his temper in her apartment from time to time. He had never hit her, but she had a dread that one day he would lose it completely and break her too in some rage that couldn't be put out with understanding words or any helpful deed.
     "I don't know," Sherry replied, with her usual confusion over the inner workings of a car. "Pete got it going again. Something simple, I think," she added. It hadn't taken much time to fix.
     "Tom isn't mechanically-inclined," Nora noted. When he had lived with her, she had hoped to begin with that he might help her with various machines, including the computer and her household appliances and vehicle. He had tried with a macho disdain for his lack of real knowledge and caused several disasters before she learned not to ask or encourage him in that respect.
     Sherry felt a bit protective of Tom. He was after all a friend from high school days and Dave's best buddy. "No. He doesn't have the patience."
     "He doesn't have much patience with people either," Nora noted with distress.
     "You, for instance?" Sherry inquired.
     Nora sighed at the memory. Holding the phone, she walked toward the refrigerator to refill her glass of wine. and noted that dinner had nearly burnt. She turned off the burner under the steak. "Wham, bam, thank-you, ma'am. That's Tom."
     "Uh-oh." Sherry wasn't sure she wanted to know about their intimate life.
     Nora resigned herself to a slightly overcooked meal. "In one minute, out the next. In every way. He never could sit still in the apartment. Always banging around, slamming doors, bouncing against walls, starting to fix this, giving that up and going to something else. It drove me crazy. He did the same thing with jobs."
     "Why are we talking about him, anyway? It's your day," Sherry reminded her.
     "That's right," Nora answered with relief. "Thank you."
     "So, I'll see you in about an hour, is that right?" her friend asked.
     "An hour or two would be good." Nora imagined curling up on the couch after her supper and watching television by herself for awhile before dessert.
     Sherry reconsidered. Obviously, Nora wanted as much time by herself as possible on this day. Still, one visit from a close friend who cared about her to round it out would be good therapy too. "How about eight o'clock?" she asked.
     "That would be great," Nora answered. She would be fine, she thought, to be left alone on this day as she had originally intended, but she didn't want to hurt Sherry's feelings. She knew her friend had her best interests at heart and that she wanted her to be healthy and happy in her life.
     "And I'll bring a Nora's Day present," Sherry offered.
     "No. You don't have to do that," Nora protested. "I've bought enough gifts for myself already. Save your money."
     "No, that's all right. You're my best friend. I want to share in Nora's Day with a gift for your sweet, beautiful self."
     "You are such a doll," Nora noted with reluctant satisfaction.
     Sherry knew exactly what the perfect gift would be. She stopped by Oxtomin's on the way over to Nora's and found a large red candle shaped like an apple and covered with silver sparkles. It had leaves of dried herbs around the wick and smelled divine. She pulled into the parking lot of Nora's apartment building, eager to share this find with her friend and enjoy a quiet evening there. Sherry climbed the stairs and knocked on the door of apartment 3B. She waited for a few minutes and knocked again, ringing the doorbell too. Still, there was no response. Finally, Sherry knocked on the door of apartment 3A.
     "Excuse me, please. Could I possibly use your phone?" she asked politely. The neighbors let her in to call Nora but the phone rang without answer. Sherry left with a thank you and returned to her car, puzzled. Could Nora have fallen ill, she wondered. What should she do? Sherry smoked a cigarette and returned to the third floor to bang on Nora's door again. Still, there was no answer. She noticed no smoke coming from under the door and heard no noise inside. Finally, she returned to her car and home. She tried to relax, think of what Nora might have done. Maybe she had gone out with Tom after all.
     "Hello, Tom, it's Sherry. Is Nora there?.... No, I was just worried about her.... No, she doesn't seem to be home and I can't figure out where she is.... No, we were supposed to get together at her place.... Well, thanks.... Yeah.... See ya later." Sherry hung up and called Nora's again. There was no answer, as before. She considered calling the police to check on her friend, then decided against it. Sherry went to bed and fell into a fitful sleep. In the morning, she woke early and picked up the phone.
     "Nora!" she nearly cried when her friend answered. "Where have you been?"
     "Right here," Nora answered, perplexed. "Where were you?"
     "I came by and banged on the door and called from the neighbor's and rang the bell and you didn't answer or anything," Sherry explained, still in a slight panic. Her friend sounded fine though. All her nightmares began to dissipate in the calm tone of Nora's voice.
     "You're kidding," Nora said with surprise. She got up and walked toward the kitchen for a glass of orange juice and started the coffee pot perking. "You came by? I thought you'd changed your mind."
     "How come you didn't answer anything?" Sherry demanded, her relief turning into muted anger.
     Nora paused, sipping on her juice. She reached in the cupboard for a box of cereal and poured some into a dish on the counter. "I must have drunk too much wine. That's all I can think of. I woke up on the couch this morning."
     Sherry laughed. "Do you have a hangover?"
     "Yup," Nora assured her, stretching for milk from the refrigerator and holding her forehead with the other hand.
     "You never drink much," Sherry accused her. "How much did you drink?" When they went out to bars or for dinner, Nora rarely had more than one drink and sometimes none at all. It was not like her to get drunk. Sherry had never seen her intoxicated, couldn't imagine a Nora out of control, or slobby and sloppy with wine, never mind passed out anywhere.
     Nora examined the bottle. "Nearly half a gallon, it appears."
     "Good Lord!" Sherry exclaimed. "Do you remember the phone or the doorbell ringing?"
     Nora replayed the blur that was her memory of the evening before. "I might. I couldn't move. I'm sorry."
     Sherry sighed. At least her friend wasn't dead, or even really sick. "Oh, that's all right," she said after a pause. "I'll just know from now on that on Nora's Day, you really are to be left alone. It's your business if you want to knock yourself out on it, after all," she added in what she hoped was a conciliatory tone.
     Nora smiled at her friend's good nature and complicity in her adventure of the day before. "Thank you. That is exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to rearrange some brain cells permanently."
     Sherry thought about Tom throwing furniture and tantrums and the kind, sober demeanor Nora had maintained throughout. "Think you did?"
     "I think there's a good chance of it." Nora rubbed her eyes and forehead with both hands, then picked up her cereal bowl and grabbed a spoon from the drawer.
     "I have a gift for you still," Sherry reminded her.
     "Is it a candle?" Nora asked, twisting her mouth to the right in a crooked grin.
     "How did you know?"
     "Just guessed." Nora's stomach churned softly. "I might be sick of candles for awhile. But I can save it for Nora's Day next year, start a collection," she suggested.
     "Good idea," her friend agreed. "I might have a Sherry's Day pretty soon. It sounds like fun really." She had warmed up to the idea of being alone occasionally to do exactly as one pleased, regardless of neighbors and friends.
     "I'd love for you to do that," Nora said, her voice gay with encouragement. "It would be good for you."
     Sherry pushed herself out of bed and walked to the window to look out at another clear blue and green day with its spots of assorted pastels. "And I'll stay by myself, just like you did. Just a day for me alone."
     Nora hinted at the problem that existed since she had decided to answer the telephone last night. "I won't even suggest that I come over, okay?"
     "Okay," Sherry said. "I see how it works now. I'm going to declare May 27th Sherry's Day."
     "Well," Nora offered, "let me know if there's anything I can do to make it perfect for you."
     "I will, thanks." Sherry hung up and began planning a special day for all the wants and woes of the world to go away in a hedonistic splurge that centered on her alone, just as Nora had. She would even buy a half a gallon of wine, she decided. And she might just keep the red candle for herself to burn away the remnants of last night's dread that still remained inside her head.

Jeannette Harris

You may visit her website, A Country Rag at www.geocities.com/countryrag