[Amir Shahbazzadeh]

By Mary E. Martin

Archie Brinks gazed up at Norma Dinnick's apartment house. His critical eye appraised the still handsome brick building, shaded by tall maples. A newspaper flitted along the front veranda and the screen door slapped in the breeze. He shook his head at peeling paint on the wooden steps. Snatching up the newspaper before it took flight, he found the keys in his suit pocket. For Archie, the property reflected Norma's slowly rotting mind.

As he struggled to open the front door, he cursed under his breath. Dust rising up in the tiny, sunlit vestibule made him cough. He tried the key in her apartment door. The lock scraped and turned, but the door held fast.

"What in hell?" He stooped awkwardly to peer into the key hole. Damn, it was pitch black.  "Norma!" he called out, his voice bouncing along the dark hallway. "The door won't open." He held his breath to listen. Nothing.

"Norma! It's me, Archie. I've got your medicine." The door shuddered as he banged again. At last the echoes subsided and he listened intently in the silence.



A wheezing came from the crack in the door. Once more, he shouted, "It's me, Archie. Open up!" She must have heard him. Good thing she had no tenants. They'd be on the stairs because of the racket. Next came loud snapping and screeching of wire— metal scraped on metal. Smiling, Archie stepped back quickly. She must have barricaded herself with wire and wood against her imaginary tenants, who broke in and stole from her. When they left last year, Norma had simply refused to get new tenants. Archie was dismayed at the prospect of no rental income.

"Who's out there?" Norma's voice quavered from behind the door.

He tried to shout without becoming angry. "It's me, Archie. Hurry up."

"What do you want with me?" she asked fretfully. Tiny scrabbling and scratching sounds came from behind the door, as if a small animal were trying to escape its cage. Archie waited patiently. At last the door creaked open just a slit. Suspicious eyes peered out.

"Leave the rent cheque in the box." she demanded.

"For God's sake Norma, you don't have tenants anymore." He pushed his face close to the door for her to see him.

When the crack widened slightly, he winced. Her face looked like a wizened peach.

"Oh, Archie! It's you." She greeted him with the joy of a trusting child. She let the door swing open, then drifted off toward the living room.   

Twisted coat hangers, used to secure the door, lay at his feet. Kicking them to one side, he faced the room. His mouth hung open. The living room, with its bay window of leaded glass, was crowded with still, grey shapes huddled in the corners. Squinting in the dim light, he realized that the couches, chairs and tables were draped with bed sheets.



"What have you been doing?" he asked quietly. She did not hear him. Instead, she hobbled and hitched her way across the room to the sofa at the window. Although her descent to her seat was perilous, she landed safely.

Patting the cushion next to her, she said, "Come sit with me, Archie. Tell me the story again."



"What story?" he demanded as he sat down next to her. He



knew what she meant. He must have told the same story a



thousand times in the last five years.

"The one about you and Arthur." She gazed intently out the window as if expecting her deceased husband, Arthur, to come up the walk. "It's a beautiful story," she sighed. "But so very sad."

Archie saw his day washing away in an endless sprawl of disjointed recollection and delusion. He took a stand.

"There's only time to give you the pills from the doctor and do the shopping. No stories today."

Her face creased with disappointment. Then, she cocked her head and looked up at him. She asked, "When did I see the doctor, Archie?"

"Honestly Norma! I took you the other day. Don't you remember?"

Norma's eyes narrowed in concentration. "I don't like the pills. They make holes in my mind." She turned intelligent eyes upon him.

"You have to take them Norma."  He paused to find the right words. He knew how stubborn she could be. "If you don't, you'll get really sick and have to go to a nursing home."

The light in her eyes faded. She picked at creatures visible only to herself,  running amok on the arm of the sofa. "Tell me the story again, Archie. You know I love to hear it."

Shaking his head, he pulled out the bottle of pills. "You're due for your medication, Norma."



She smiled to placate him. "Let's have some tea first."  She wriggled forward on her cushion. At the edge, she began to rock vigorously back and forth with increasing speed.

"What are you doing?" Archie reached out in alarm. At last, the momentum brought her to her feet. Once steadied, she toddled toward the kitchen.

Archie rose behind her. "I don't have time for tea," he said, exasperation rising in his voice. "Just give me your list and I'll get your groceries."

"Then I'll come too," she smiled. "Let me get my coat." She reached for the closet door.

He gripped the knob tightly. "I told you not to go out today." Norma's  face crinkled in shock. Instantly, he regretted his sternness. He tried to soften his tone. "I was only concerned for you, Norma. Do you think it's safe?" Did the damn woman think he had nothing better to do than play her games? She would spend an hour getting ready only to change her mind. Clouds of ridiculous notions swept in and out of her brain, just like unpredictable thunder storms, he thought.

"Why, Archie? It's my birthday. I want to go out."

He sought an answer. "Who'll watch the place? Last year, on your birthday, you said all your photographs were stolen. That's why I said not to go out. It brings on your..."  He hunted for words to stop, but not anger her. "Your spells of confusion. I'm afraid sometimes you imagine things."

Norma hesitated. "You're right Archie. How could I forget?" She sank down in a chair and rubbed her hands together. "Perhaps I am a little forgetful." Archie studied the ceiling. "Do you think they'd break in today?" she asked uncertainly. "Did you see anyone outside?"



Archie shook his head and stared at her in pity. "Norma, you have no tenants. You refused to rent to anyone." A dose of reality might help, he thought. "You could use the rent money to keep the place up. It's looking pretty run down."

Norma began to shake her head vigorously.

Archie held up his hand. "Norma, if you keep seeing tenants in a vacant building, people will think you're crazy. Besides, aren't  real, paying tenants much better than imaginary ones who steal?" Archie chuckled at his cleverness.

"I saw them once." she said with the defiance of a little child. "Right over there." She pointed at the dining room buffet. "Breaking in and stealing my silver spoons and my mother's Irish lace table cloths."

"For God's sake, Norma! What would anyone want with a bunch of old table cloths?" He muttered, "It's ridiculous."

Norma clenched her fists in her lap. "You've seen them, too. You said so. You told me not to go out on my birthday."

He spoke in disgust. "Norma, I saw the gas man wanting to read the meter. You shouldn't go out because it brings on your spells."

"Are you trying to drive me mad, Archie?" She peered up at him with suspicious eyes. "Prove to me there aren't any tenants."

"And just how can I do that?" he asked. He shook his head and said with weary patience.  "Norma, if you insist, I'll take you upstairs and we'll look at the apartment." Humouring her was the quickest way out of the delusion.



Norma smiled in delight and clutched the heavy knot of keys hanging from a string around her neck. The stairs to the second floor were long, broad and dark. Many of the brass rods holding the worn, green carpeting in place were loose. A real death trap, thought Archie as he watched her teeter to the top landing. She fussed with the jumble of keys, but at last opened the apartment door. Light flooded in through the large bay window in the living room. Norma stood back to let him in. The still apartment was devoid of any furniture, carpets or curtains. No evidence of any presence.

Archie smiled piteously at Norma, who was trembling. "You see, dear. No one's here. No one has been here."

In her wrath, Norma seemed to grow an inch. "Don't you patronize me, Mr. Brinks," she cried out. "I've never said they were here in the daytime. Only at night."

"Then either they take all their furniture each morning or they sleep on the floor at night."

She looked as if he had just slapped her. Her tiny, furious face glared up at him. Christ! Now he'd have to spend another hour settling her down. He took her arm as gently as he could. "Let's go back downstairs, dear. We'll have the tea and I'll tell you the story again. After all, it is your birthday."

Her scowl vanished to be replaced by a child-like glow of excitement. "Oh please, Archie. I love that story." Having secured his promise, Norma consented to be led step by step back down the stairs to her apartment.

Making the tea in the kitchen, he stopped to run his finger over the stove and the counters. Grime everywhere. He rinsed out the cups and set them on a tray. Norma sat on the sofa under the bay window. He handed her the cup and took out one of the pills. "Take one now, Norma," he said as gently as possible.



"Let me have some tea while you tell me the story. It's such a beautiful story."

Archie set the bottle of pills on the tray and prepared to tell the story. He had to tell it exactly the same as the last time. If he varied a sentence, she would demand he start again.

"It was very sad," he began, with what he hoped was the proper note of solemnity. She nodded with satisfaction. "Your husband, Arthur, was a fine man who loved you very much." He took her hand. "He knew he was about to die."

Right on cue, Norma asked, "What was wrong, Archie?"

"Bad heart, Norma. He tried to be brave and not worry you. He loved you that much." Archie had developed this line in answer to the obvious question of why Arthur, who loved Norma so much, failed to mention such important details.

"Yes," she agreed sadly. "Arthur was always so considerate."

"One evening at the cottage, he asked me to walk with him along the shoreline."

Norma nodded in reverie. "I could see you from the porch. I wondered what was being discussed. But I didn't dare ask."

Archie continued.  "Arthur stopped at the point. We listened to the loons and I realized he was trying to catch his breath. I asked him if anything was wrong. He stared across the bay to the lighthouse and said, "I'm going to die soon, Archie and I want to ask you a favour."

Tears glinted in Norma's eyes. Archie's voice trembled just enough. "He asked me to swear I'd look after you for as long as you lived." Norma breathed deeply with satisfaction.

"I didn't think twice. I agreed right away and told him not to worry. I asked if you knew. All he said was, "I love her too much to worry her."




Archie sat forward and spread his hands on his knees. "Then I was really shocked. Of course, he was leaving everything to you. But then, when you died he wanted me to have the estate. That is, if anything was left." Archie was so intent on his performance, he missed Norma's grimace.

Archie waved dismissively. "Of course, I said  I didn't want anything. But he insisted." Archie covered his eyes as if he could not continue. "He absolutely insisted that if I looked after you, everything was to go to me. I was his oldest friend and he trusted me. But, as business men, we should have a proper business relationship" Glancing at Norma, he was pleased to see her rocking contentedly on the sofa cushion. He patted her hand. "I've done my very best all these years. If Arthur is looking down, I hope he's satisfied."

"Oh, I just know he's watching. I can feel his presence everyday." She paused, lost in a study of her tea cup. "And, I did my part, too. Arthur is very pleased."

"You made the will, Norma?" Archie smiled warmly at her. Ridiculous old woman, he thought, wandering and weaving in and out of her delusions.

"I just know Arthur is smiling down on us right now," she said.

Archie decided to push a little further. "Can I have a copy of the will?" he asked softly. He did not wish to break the mood.

She continued to smile at him. "When you take me out to the bank, I'll get it from my box, dear."

            Archie stood up. "I'll do your shopping now. But take your pill before I go."

Norma popped the tablet in her mouth and swallowed the cold tea.

"Do you have a list? Or should I just get the usual things?"

"I need more cereal and tea, Archie. I do like the doughnuts, but could you bring some vegetables and chicken this time?"


"Of course. I'll be back in half an hour." He nodded and left. Hurrying down the steps to the car, he sighed in relief. Jesus! The woman was getting crazier by the minute. Now the tenants went out each day and took all their furniture with them. With the pills, she'd soon be ready for  committal. No new will then. In the meantime, he would always tell her the beautiful story.

Norma watched him from the bay window. Once he was safely gone, she spat out the pill in her serviette. She picked up the little bottle of pills from the tray. With difficulty, she walked to the bathroom and flushed the tablets down the toilet. She straightened up and peered in the mirror. "Did you hear that, Arthur?" Her face twisted in mimicry of Archie. "Proper business relationship, indeed! I know you'd never leave everything to him after me."

She ran the water in the sink and washed her hands with care. Reaching for a towel, she said, "But Arthur, shouldn't he get something? After all, he does do the shopping

[Amir Shahbazzadeh]

Cup of Tea

One day my mother was out and my dad was in charge of me.

I was maybe 2 1/2 years old and had just recovered from an accident.

Someone had given me a little 'tea set' as a get-well gift and it was one of my favorite toys.

Daddy was in the living room engrossed in the evening news when I brought Daddy a little cup of 'tea', which was just water. After several cups of tea and lots of praise for such yummy tea, my Mom came home.

My Dad made her wait in the living room to watch me bring him a cup of tea, because it was 'just the cutest thing!' My Mom waited, and sure enough, here I come down the hall with a cup of tea for Daddy and she watches him drink it up.

Then she says,as only a mother would know