Music of the Knight

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

In the rec room, I gathered my laptop and fliers and then tucked everything into my bag. When I glanced up from the table, Patricia, the manor’s recreologist, gave me a thumb up. She was busy with a few white-haired gentlemen, so I waved back at her and smiled eagerly. On the phone this week, she’d promised to get a dozen of her elderly residents to come to my presentation—and usually that was a full room for me right there—but obviously, she was excellent at her job, because there had been at least twenty people attending this afternoon. We’d even had to move a few tables around the small rec room to accommodate wheelchairs and walkers. It had gone better than planned. I’d been pretty eloquent and had made a few ladies laugh with my lame jokes. But as always, I was glad this part of my job was over. I wasn’t big on public speaking.

I drained my glass of water and signaled to Patricia that I’d be out in the hall, waiting to wrap this up with her. I had a lot riding on this presentation. Would she finally agree to a partnership?

“Young man?” The elegant woman with the beautiful white hair I’d noticed sitting in the back row was now accosting me. During my short presentation, I’d noted how interested she’d seemed. She tipped her head and studied my face. “How old are you?”

I’d been working around the elderly long enough not to be offended by that question. “Twenty-nine.”

“Hmm. My grandson’s age. Well, you did a good job. It was very interesting. Thank you for coming.”

“No, thank you. Really. I appreciate you taking the time.” I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Did you take a card?” I reached into the side pocket of my bag. “And of course, Patricia will have all of the details and—”

“Oh, no, no. I don’t need your service.” She looked around the room full of her fellow residents. Was she happy here? What was her story? “I have many people I can talk to if I need someone to listen.”

I offered her my card, anyway. “That’s great then. But, you know, maybe a friend of yours could benefit.”

“Yes, of course.” She took my card and stared at it for a moment. There was something in her face. Sadness.

I watched her and waited until she looked up at me again. When she did, her eyes were full of tears. I slowly set my bag down on the table. She seemed to expect me to say something. But I didn’t. I simply looked at her and kept my mouth shut.

“I had a very good friend I could talk to,” she finally said, quickly dabbing her eyes with a tissue she’d dug out of her white cotton pants. She chuckled dryly, gazing off, as though remembering a pleasant memory. Then she looked back at me. “My big fat cat. I named him Jupiter, you know, after the god, and well, the planet.” She laughed, but her eyes were welling up again. “And during your presentation, when you talked about presence, about the quality of a presence, I thought of him. Of his benevolent and authentic presence. And you’re right.” She blew her nose. “You’re absolutely right. People think they listen, but all they usually do is use any conversation as an opportunity to talk about themselves.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds, and I let the silence stretch. I knew she didn’t need me to validate her feelings. She didn’t even need me to say anything, really. That wasn’t why she’d told me her story. She’d only needed to tell me about Jupiter so she could prove that he’d existed. That he’d mattered to her.

“You have a very good presence about you, young man. You’re an old soul, that’s for sure.” She extended her veined hand to me. “It was a pleasure talking with you.”

That was the irony of it. The less I talked, the more people assumed we’d had a conversation.

“Thank you for sharing with me.” I shook her hand. “And I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

“Well, goodbye.” She walked away with the card in her hand. Then she paused and glanced over her shoulder at me. “Wait—your name is Micah Payne?”

“Yes…”

She chuckled a little, turning away again. “You sure have the name for the profession.”

Moments later, Patricia was at my side. “I went around the room and the feeling is unanimous.”

I paused, not quite sure of anything.

Patricia flashed a smile. “So when do we start?”

“Really?” I’d been hoping for a yes, but also fearing it. Would I have enough volunteers to fulfill the New Horizon Manor needs? I was already spread pretty thin. Then again, I needed this contract. “Wow. That’s great.”

Patricia surveyed the room, her eyes narrowing under funky blue eyeglasses. “I think Good Ear is exactly what we need around here.”

Until now, she’d been noncommittal about our potential partnership. But that was expected. The administration didn’t trust just anyone into their retirement homes. Most of their residents were vulnerable and there were too many scams and con-artists out there. I’d had to work hard at building relationships in the last two years.

“Of course, I’ll need all of your volunteers’ criminal records and we’ll have to meet with head of security.”

“I know the drill, Patricia. I’ll come by next week at your convenience and we’ll look everything over, okay?”

She nudged my shoulder with hers. “You know the owners here have six other manors around the city, right?”

Yes, I knew that. This was big. Too big?

“How many volunteers do you have again?”

“Twenty-four.” No, Abdul had quit this morning. “Actually, twenty-three.”

Patricia scoffed. “You’re gonna need more volunteers.”

I swallowed hard, smiling as confidently as I could. “I’m on it.”