Cat on the Scent

10

“Do I have to do this?” Harry leaned against the truck door.

“Yes.” Miranda offered no hope of escape. “I'll take Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker home with me. No one will miss supper. If you take them home, you'll be late.”

“All right.” Harry climbed up into the old Superman-blue 1978 Ford half-ton.

“Good luck, Mom,” Mrs. Murphy saucily called out.

She needed more than luck. She needed the patience of Job. Lifeline, held in the basement of the Lutheran church, provided support and direction for many seekers.

Harry thought she had direction enough, and as for support, she was raised not to broadcast her troubles.

The adherents of this self-discovery process really surprised her, though. Ridley Kent; Cynthia Cooper—of all people; Dr. Hayden McIntire, Larry Johnson's much-younger partner; and several other people she'd known for years were among the crowd that filled the church basement.

BoomBoom stuck next to her.

The leader of the group, Bill Oster, worked at the University of Virginia library. It had taken years of training for him to become a group leader.

“Each of us carries negative programming, negative information. The purpose of Lifeline is to clear that away so you can more fully experience the people around you and so you can more fully experience yourself. It's strange, isn't it? We are raised to practice good manners, we're taught how to treat other people, but we're not taught how to treat ourselves. The first task, therefore, is to establish a proper relationship with yourself.”

BoomBoom beamed with each word, casting significant glances at Harry. By the end of the evening Harry couldn't say she'd heard anything silly but she couldn't say the program was for her either. By nature a self-contained person, she found the idea of exploring emotions or even cleansing herself of negativity in front of others to be anathema. Still, she had to admit the ideas were worth considering.

“I hope you'll return,” Bill Oster warmly said.

“You are a motivating leader.” Harry, manners to the fore, complimented him.

“And that means you won't return.” He believed in constant honesty, which at times had a touch of ruthlessness to it.

“No.” Harry hated to be direct in this fashion. It violated everything she'd been taught all her life. “It's not for me but I think it's a good process.”

He clasped both her hands in his. “If you change your mind you know where to find us. We start new groups every six weeks.”

BoomBoom, disappointed in Harry, said, “Would you go if I weren't part of the group? I'm training to lead a group but I can put it off for another six weeks.”

“It has nothing to do with you, Boom.”

“Eventually you overcome your discomfort level.”

“You have to want to and I don't. Whatever my deepest inner flaws are, I've learned to live with them.”

“That's not the point.” BoomBoom felt rejected because Lifeline was rejected.

Cynthia joined them. “Boom, Harry is the stubbornest woman I've ever met. Neither of us can talk her into anything. Besides, she kept her promise.”

“That's true.” BoomBoom offered her hand to Harry, who graciously shook it.

“Thanks, Boom.”

“Will we ever be friends?”

“I—I don't know, but our relationship has improved.” Harry was truthful. Ever since BoomBoom's fling with Fair, the very sight of her set Harry's teeth on edge, but she was able to have a civil conversation with her now.

A somewhat mollified BoomBoom Craycroft bid them good-night.

“You're the last person I'd think to find in a group like this,” Harry confided to Coop. “Well, Ridley Kent is a big surprise, too.”

“I was getting jaded,” Cynthia softly replied. “I see liars, drunks, irresponsible shits day in and day out. The drug dealers are a real treat, too. I was losing my faith in the goodness of people.”

“Guess you would.”

“I thought, this can't hurt me and I might even learn something.”

“Good for you. No wonder I haven't seen you around much lately.”

“Actually, this is my first night. I've been on overload because the spring flu is moving through the force. In the last month we've had two or three people out each week. I'm pulling a lot of overtime, anyway.”

“When things even out, come on over. We'll have a Chinese-and-video night.”

“Great. I'll bring the Chinese.”

Harry walked Coop to her car, then hopped into her truck.

As she walked through Miranda's door she smelled freshly fried liver, not her favorite.

Miranda sat at the table, the animals eating from places set for them. Sheepishly Harry's hostess said, “They're the only creatures I can get to eat fried liver with me.”

“I'll eat fried liver.”

“You don't really like it.”

“I wouldn't buy it in a restaurant but everything you make tastes good.”

“I happen to have a piece left, smothered in my special sauce with caramelized onions. And I know you love brussels sprouts, a hint of molasses and lemon with them, but only a hint.”

As Harry ate this unexpected feast, Miranda peppered her with questions to satisfy herself that Lifeline wasn't leading people away from the Scriptures.

“Didn't mention the Bible. It's about personal growth, not religion.”

“The two are connected.”

“Now, Miranda, I am not capable of a theological discussion. You take that up with Herbie. After all, the meetings are held in his church.”

“People need the Good Book.”

“Lifeline and Christianity are not mutually exclusive.” A brussels sprout melted in her mouth.

“The essence of Christianity is forgiveness.”

“I think in Lifeline they teach you to forgive yourself.”

This thought hit Miranda like a Ping-Pong ball: It bounced off but left a small impression. She would have to ponder it. “Seems you got more out of Lifeline than you realize.”