Into the Dark

37

Maywood, California

“Looks like a lot of people are attending this thing,” Robert said, scanning the vehicles in the lot, taking Claire’s hand as they walked to the entrance of the Maywood Gardens Community Center. He looked good in his navy suit, she thought. She wore a green mock-wrap dress that draped nicely around her figure, finishing with a pin at her waist.

The stucco building sat between the chain-fenced yard of a transmission recycling shop and a line of small bungalows, circa World War Two. Music spilled from the hall as Claire struggled with Julie’s urging to use this evening to draw more information from Robert about his life with his first wife. Claire was unsure how she would do it.

Inside, the crowded hall bunting and colored lights looped from the rafters and stretched the length of the main room. Music flowed from speakers suspended high on walls covered with blue and gold crepe-paper streamers. To one side there was a long table where servers navigated platters of food around people.

On the main floor, twenty round tables covered with white tablecloths were arranged before a stage with a podium. It was flanked by tables adorned with flowers. Claire’s eyes widened slightly at the backdrop’s banner that read:

Great Light and Hope Association Thanks Robert Bowen-A True American Hero!

“They’re venerating you.” Claire nudged Robert, who took it all in without speaking. After several seconds, she added, “Let’s mingle and try to find Ruben.”

As they worked their way through knots of conversations, people began recognizing Robert. Men slapped his back or shook his hand. When two pretty young women, their faces beaming, asked Robert to let them have their pictures taken with him, he obliged.

Claire was proud of her husband, but her smile yielded to a sudden ripple of unease at the manner in which Robert had inserted himself in the middle of the women. It was the way he’d slid his hands around their waists and pulled them closer to him. For an instant Claire thought he’d gone beyond a normal pose. He brushed against the line of propriety with a motion so smooth, Claire thought it revealing. It was as if he were accustomed to putting his hands on other women and the way his fingers spider-walked along their sides as he gently squeezed…

The way a shopper might check for quality.

It was so swift, so subtle, Claire wondered if she’d misread it.

“Claire! Robert! There you are!” Ruben Montero was battling his way to them, accompanied by several other people.

“You remember my wife, Maria. Thank God, you met!” Ruben hugged Robert. Then Maria stepped forward.

“My baby and I would not be here today, if not for you.” Maria flung her arms around Robert, as well.

Acknowledging their gratitude, Robert introduced Claire before Ruben and his wife excused themselves.

“My apologies, we have a few last-minute details to take care of before we get started,” Montero said. “We’ll join you at the guest table in a moment.” He turned to a man and woman waiting to meet Robert. “Let me introduce you to our senior board members, our president, Gloria Rosario, and our treasurer, Eddie Melendez.”

“Welcome,” Gloria said. “We’re so happy you’ve come this evening.”

“Thank you for being our guest of honor.” Eddie shook Robert’s hand. “Would you like something to drink?” He flagged one of the servers and ordered for the group.

“As a pilot, you must see a lot of the world,” Eddie said.

“I have, but not as much now that I fly corporate charter,” he said. “I’ll be flying to India next month and I’m going to Toronto in a few days.”

“Canada? I’ve never been there but I hear it’s beautiful,” Eddie said.

“It is. I lived there when I was first married,” Robert said.

Canada? Claire threw a look to Robert, thinking it odd that he would mention any aspect of his time with Cynthia, especially socially. She couldn’t recall him ever saying he’d lived in Canada. This was a revelation. Their drinks arrived, diverting her attention.

“So, Claire, are you Canadian?” Gloria, a retired school principal, asked.

“No, but close,” Claire smiled. “I’m from Minnesota.”

“Yes,” Robert interjected. “I was referring to my first wife-” then he slid his arm around Claire “-that was before we met.”

“And,” Gloria asked Claire, “do you work outside the home?”

“I’m a psychologist.’

“A psychologist? That must be fascinating and challenging.”

“Much like being a principal, I’m sure,” Claire replied.

“Oh, goodness,” Gloria said, waving the air. “Don’t get me started.” Gloria took refuge in her sangria. “Do you have children, Claire?”

The question resurrected a familiar hurt and Claire reached for her worn response.

“Not yet, but we hope to,” she said, preparing for Gloria to do what most women did to her in this situation-secretly guess at her age and the time remaining on her biological clock. But Robert intervened.

“We’re working on it. We love kids,” he said.

The music stopped, a squeal of feedback pierced the air before the loudspeakers crackled.

“Welcome to Great Light’s annual banquet!” a woman’s voice said to cheers. “Now, if everyone would please take their seats. The kitchen staff tells me that everything’s ready for us to begin.”

After the food, the evening progressed with small speeches highlighting the charity’s work to help the underprivileged people of the community. They touched on reports on donations, bake sales, carnivals, scholarships, awards and future goals. Then the agenda moved to recognition of donors and volunteers before it was Ruben Montero’s turn at the podium.

“Friends, members of the board, it gives me great pleasure to tell you about our guest of honor, Robert Bowen.”

Ruben unfolded a sheet of paper.

“But it’ll be hard for me to get through this without choking up.” Ruben cleared his throat, then recounted the events of the day and how Robert Bowen saved his family.

Then Ruben folded his sheet, blinked away his tears and turned to Bowen and patted his shoulder.

“Robert Bowen embodies the great light and hope that our organization represents and for that, it is our great, great pleasure to honor him tonight. Robert, please say a few words.”

The room shook with applause that grew into a standing ovation as Ruben reached under the podium for a plaque to present Robert, who stood to join him as cameras flashed.

Robert began by thanking Ruben and the association.

“I really didn’t expect this, nor do I think I deserve it but I accept this gracious honor.” Robert passed his plaque to Claire before he resumed speaking. “In some small way each of us is called to help someone every day. We can be selfish when we get that call, or hardened by indifference, or paralyzed by fear. We must overcome the easy choice of doing nothing. You have to look inside yourself and determine how you will answer the call when faced with the temptation to turn your back, to let your heart go cold.”

Robert paused, and, as some in the audience nodded in agreement, he took in the crowd. A long moment passed and he remained silent. The air became uncomfortable, people coughed and shifted in their seats.

Ruben turned to his wife, then looked up at Robert as if wishing him to continue. Claire gently touched his arm and whispered, “Robert, are you okay?”

Without looking at her, he nodded, letting another moment pass before he resumed.

“Now each of us must ask, how will I answer the call to help? You must overcome the temptation to do nothing. We overcome it with action. That’s how we defeat it, that is how we find our humanity. That is our great light and that is our hope. Thank you.”

People rose to their feet again and clapped. Some cheered and whistled. The overpowering sound made the hall vibrate. Ruben and Maria embraced Robert, and as the applause continued, they were joined by their son, Alex. Then someone brought Bonita, their baby daughter, to the podium and Maria passed her to Robert. Robert held her in his arms, smiled and waved to the audience. Again, cameras flashed throughout the hall, some people crowded before the stage to take better pictures.

Standing next to Robert, seeing him holding Bonita during the deafening applause, Claire’s heart swelled.

Her husband looked every bit the hero. He was a hero, and holding Bonita, he looked like a natural father.

How can I justify any misgivings about him?

Yet how could she dismiss them?

Should she ignore the way he’d held the young women or his unusual remarks about evil, and the look on his face during his long awkward pause?

He had been reveling in the silence, leaving Claire to wonder: Where did he go in that moment?