Resurrecting Harry (3 page)

“Since I’m your only customer at the moment, please pour yourself a cup and come sit with me.” Part of her made the long walk to the deli at least twice a week out of habit. So many mornings she and Harry would wake up early, make the leisurely stroll and spend the morning enjoying the fresh coffee and baked goods while reading the paper. Another part of her kept the ritual alive because she feared the alternative: closing herself in the house and letting the walls suffocate her. The grief became bearable when her friends were around.

“I can sit for a few minutes, little lady.” Will wedged himself into the seat across the table. “I’m worried about you. You look like you saw a ghost.”

Maybe she had. Or maybe it was more like that déjà vue stuff she read about in dime store novels. Bess didn’t believe in either, but running into that man on the street made her feel just like she had the day she’d met Harry. She set the ring and chain down on the table. “I bumped into a man on the street and my purse spilled.”

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. I just feel so scattered. So alone.”

“But you’re not.”

Harry’s memory and the imagined voice whispering in her ear weren’t real company, and her friends only filled the void in short spurts. Unable to speak around the lump choking her throat, she nodded.

“Is that Harry’s?” he asked, pointing to the ring.

“I should have buried him with it. That’s what he would have wanted.”

“All Harry ever wanted was to see your smile.”

“Hmph!” She scooped the jewelry off the table. “Material things were more important to my husband. The act, the fans, the money and what he could buy with it.”

Will scraped his jaw with the back of his hand. “Oh, I see how it is. You’re in one of these moods again. You know he wanted the nice things for you.”

The ring and tangled chain slipped from her hand and clattered against the table. “I’d rather have him.”

“I know that. That’s why these are so important to you. It keeps him close. He’d like that.” Will picked up and examined the broken end of the chain. “How did this happen?”

“It got caught on a rose bush while I was weeding. I need to stop by the jewelers.”

“If you’d like, I can take it home tonight and try to fix it.”

His kind offer touched her heart. “Thank you, I’d like that. And so would Harry.”

“So what brings you into town today? Just the usual errands?” Will asked as he pulled himself from the booth and retreated behind the counter.   

“I need to stop at the grocery store and the drug store. And I need to find someone who can fix that blasted furnace.”

Will stabbed a few buttons on the cash register until the drawer slid out. He dropped the ring and necklace into one of the compartments and then pushed it shut. “What you need to do, is have that thing replaced. It’s been nothing but one headache after the other for you.”

“I don’t know anything about buying a new furnace, or who I would have to install it. Goodness knows I haven’t chosen repairmen well.”

“Or maybe you can’t bear to let go of anything that belonged to Harry, no matter how much danger it’s putting you in.”

Bess clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, trying to hide the fact that Will had zeroed in on the truth. “Bothersome, maybe, but I don’t believe that furnace has me in harm’s way.”

The bell sounded above the door. A young couple entered and approached the counter. Before tending to the customers, Will gave Bess all his focus. “I’m not so sure about that. Let me ask around for you and see what I can find out.”

As Erich opened the door to the deli, the scent of fresh brewed coffee and hot cinnamon permeated the air, reminding him of home. Whether he and Bess were here in California, back in Brooklyn, or in any city that they performed in around the world, simple rituals like quiet time to drink coffee and read the paper had been the foundation of their married life. More than a building or a city, any moment Harry shared with Bess was home.

With a sideways glance, he saw her sitting alone in the corner booth, a large white mug and small plate with a half-eaten roll pushed aside and forgotten. Her eyes were locked on the pages of the book cradled in her hands. How could Bess not even notice him when she was his whole world? He fought the desire to go to her and make some excuse for acting so weird before. Instead, he approached the counter, holding the help wanted sign he’d pulled from the window. He resisted the urge to call the owner by name. “Excuse me, sir. I see you’re looking for kitchen help.”

“I am.” Will wiped his hands on the bottom of the apron before offering to shake Erich’s. “I need someone who can bus tables, do dishes and make deliveries. It’s hard, physical labor. You think you’re up to it?”

Without Harry’s thoughts and memories, Erich might have been insulted, but with them he knew Will shot from the hip and laid everything out in the open. Harry never shied from hard work and kept his body in peak physical form. It was a necessity of his job. But what of
this
body? Would it respond and react in the same way just because Harry’s thoughts and knowledge filled Erich’s head?

From the fit of his clothes and bulk of his arms, Erich guessed he’d have the same strength as before. Along with Harry’s worldly knowledge, he’d conquer anything put in front of him. The throbbing incision in his right side might be an obstacle, but he’d persevere. He didn’t have another choice. If working here got him close to Bess, he’d endure any pain. “I promise I’ll do all you ask and more.”

“You don’t look familiar. You new around here?”

He wanted to remind Will of the dozens of conversations they’d had at that very counter. Instead, he heeded Jaden’s warning: better to effect change as someone else rather than a ghost. “Just got to town. I’ll also be looking for a place to stay.”

“If I give you the job, I’ll expect you by five every morning, and you’d work until everything is cleaned up from the lunchtime rush. Fifty cents an hour is the wage, plus the tips you might earn on deliveries.”

“That sounds fair.” The salary was inconsequential. Erich needed this job if he were to meet his goal. From behind the counter he’d watch Bess, talk to her and connect with her. Regardless of how hurt or jaded she’d become, an undeniable bond existed between their spirits. All it would take is a little time. If he let go of that notion he might as well let go of her. He’d do neither.

“Say I decide to hire you, when can you start?”

“Is right now too soon?”

The portly elder laughed. “Why don’t you tell me your name first?”

Erich swallowed the urge to answer “Harry Houdini” and instead stated the name adorned him by Jaden. His tongue tripped over it, and it rang foreign in his ear.

“I like your spirit, Erich. Why don’t we give today a try and see how you work out? There’s a clean apron on the back of the kitchen door and a sink full of dirty dishes.”

“You’ll see, sir. I won’t let you down.” Erich’s chest swelled with pride in a sought-out-task completed, even if this was just another mundane job. Harry had done more than his share of manual labor and knew this kind of work left him feeling confined.

Stepping behind the counter transported Harry back to his childhood. Then, he’d been forced to work to support his family. The instinct to flee uncoiled itself in his stomach, but so much more than a loaf of bread lay in the balance this time. He wasn’t working to feed his family; this was about reclaiming his wife and his life.

Tackling a sink full of coffee-stained cups and syrup-covered plates didn’t allow him to interact with her. “If you’d like, I could tend to your customers. Refill coffee and water, maybe bus tables.”

Will shook his head and grabbed Erich’s forearm, leading him into the kitchen. As the door swung to and fro across the threshold, Will spoke in a low, firm voice that Harry had never heard. “Mrs. Houdini likes her solitude. You’d do best to remember that. I’ll tend to her needs. You take care of the dishes.”

Erich pivoted to the sink and began tying the apron strings behind his back with swift, yet smooth movements. He appreciated the friendship and loyalty to Harry that motivated Will’s actions. If any other man tried to hit on his Bess, Harry would want Will there ready to throttle him. But Erich wasn’t any other man, and Will’s presence didn’t deter, only irritated.

Erich scrunched his nose at the odor rising up from the pile of breakfast dishes. Busboy was a long fall from master escape artist, and he had no intention of spending a moment more than necessary in this role. All it would take was time and the right choice of words for his angel to see through the facade and recognize him as Harry. Until he achieved his goal, though, he’d have to play this little game.

Filling the appropriate sink bays with soapy water, rinse water and sanitizer, he picked through the dishes, washing only coffee mugs until he had enough to fill a large brown tray. A deep breath braced his lacerated stomach muscles as he lifted the tray and pushed the door open with his back. Setting the mugs on the counter, Erich ignored the other patrons in the diner and zeroed in on Bess sipping her coffee, but her eyes never left the book. When she unceremoniously licked her finger and turned the page, Erich’s gut tightened. Oh, to hold her close and inhale the scent of her skin.

Physical need: one more thing to add to the list of sensations lost to his post-life body and regained in this new flesh. One more thing he’d never again take for granted and would move Heaven and earth to reclaim.

Swallowing his ache, he squatted down and began putting the cups on the shelf. This vantage point blocked his view of Bess, but her presence still called to him. He wrestled down the undeniable craving, knowing that if he pushed too hard or too fast it would only set off her defensive instincts.

The bell above the door sounded, announcing another customer, who Will greeted with a hearty welcome. “Erich, bring a fresh cup of coffee for Sergeant Fisher and one of those pecan rolls.”

The officer took a stool at the counter, patted his stomach and laughed. “I’ll take the coffee and a turkey sandwich. Let’s skip the pecan roll today.”

“Look at this?” Will laughed, patting the officer’s back. “Trying to act like
he’s
got to watch his weight.”

“If I ate all the pastries you pushed my way, my uniform wouldn’t fit.” Fisher spun the stool toward Erich. “Just a cup of coffee and the turkey sandwich, please, on rye.”

As Erich filled the order, Will continued his conversation. “Are you going to eat here, Stanley, or take it back to the station?”

“I was planning on sitting right here, if that’s okay.”

Will’s fingers tapped against the counter. He shifted his weight. “Of course. I need to run across the street for a few minutes. Can you keep an eye on the place for me?”

“Not a problem.”

Finally! A chance to interact with Bess
.

Erich watched Will cross the street, dodging between straggling shoppers and the occasional car meandering down Main street. He delivered the order to Stanley, and then turned back, picking up the coffee pot and setting his sights on the corner booth. “A refill, Mrs. Houdini?”

A curt nod gave him permission, and he began to pour. She closed the book and gave him her full attention. “You won’t spill it on me, will you?”

Like our very first meeting!
His stomach lightened and spirits lifted. Maybe she did find him familiar. “Not if I can help it.”

“It’d be a perfect distraction. Maybe give you another chance at my husband’s ring.”

If the short, choppy lilt didn’t speak to her anger, her tone rang loud and clear. He leaned against the opposite seat of the booth and tried to explain. “It wasn’t my intention to steal it. Why would I even try while standing right in front of you? It’s ridiculous.”

“My husband could steal your wallet while you were staring him dead in the eye. I know more than you might think about sleight of hand.” She straightened her back and lifted her chin, self-assured and defiant.

God how he missed moments like these. Erich set the pot on the table and leaned against its edge. “Something tells me the great Houdini had a little more honor than to steal a man’s wallet.”

Bess cocked her head to the right and smiled. She tried to hide it, but he could see she also enjoyed the developing tit-for-tat. “But what of you, Mr. Erich Welch? Are you a man of honor? Or should I have warned Will that you have light fingers?”

She was teasing him now; her smile proved that. His guard fell, and he began to trust in the implicit soul-connection between them. “I may be clumsy or excitable. I often leap without thinking, but I’m not a thief.”

Something darker wiped the hint of joy from her face. Her eyes shifted from him to the window. “I know all I care to about impetuous men.”

Too much pain resided in her voice. Bess and Harry’s life and love should be something she celebrated, not mourned. Separation hurt. He missed her in the same way he’d miss his beating heart. More than a joy, he needed her to breathe, but the pain didn’t darken his memories or fill him with regret. Why did it do that to her? “You know what I think? Doing something impetuous might be just what you need. What do you say? Let me take you to dinner?”

Her eyes crawled up and down his body, evaluating him. She was putting Harry’s lessons on reading people to good use. Erich’s pulse quickened, but then being near Bess always did that.

She shook her head and laughed, mocking his joy. “Why would you do such a thing?”

Because I love you, Bess.
“I’m new in town and want to make friends.”

“With an older woman and a widow to boot?” Back again was the doubtful cynic.

“With a beautiful, spunky woman.”

“Flattery may breed a fool, Mr. Welch, but I won’t be swindled.”

“I have no intention—”

Her waving hand cut him off. “I heard you tell Will you don’t even have a place to stay. You have more important concerns than a frivolous dinner with me.”

His lip curled between his teeth. As much as he enjoyed playing cat and mouse, she’d checked him with reality. Even if she agreed to spend time with him, the few coins jingling in his pocket wouldn’t buy either of them more than a cup of coffee, let alone a meal for both.

Erich was about to suggest a walk in the park – something they could do on his limited budget – but was interrupted by the sound of a rubber ball hitting the tile floor. It brushed against his leg, and he bent over and picked up the ball.

A small boy with dark, disheveled hair and big brown eyes ran up, tugged on his pant leg and reached up to him. After returning the toy to its rightful owner, Erich patted the child’s shoulder. His mother mumbled a thank you as she bustled by them, guiding the child out of the diner.

With the distraction out of the way, Erich tried to make headway with Bess, when the bell sounded again. Erich froze. He’d been caught doing the one thing he was warned against. Will’s voice filled the room. “I’m paying you to wash dishes, Erich.”

“I was just taking care of your customer,” he replied, rounding the corner.

“Mrs. Houdini’s coffee is just fine. Mr. Hanson is waiting for you at the hardware store. I just bought a cot. I figured until you can save up a paycheck or two, you might be just as comfortable sleeping in the store room. I’d have brought it back myself, but the clerk had to get it down off the top shelf. Go on. Pick it up.”

And just that quick, one problem was solved. Not having to pay for a room would give him more assets in his pursuit of Bess. Most would have found Will’s offer of a place to lay his head strange, but Erich knew it wasn’t out of the norm. Harry’s soul was littered with memories of the man taking in and nurturing abandoned kittens and helping the less fortunate. Will considered Erich just another stray. “That’s very kind of you. Thank you.”