were plainly visible on his face. He lifted his hands a little toward Linda, beseeching her for help.
In response to his appeal, without moving or displaying any emotion, she told him, “Get up.”
Chapter 9
At church the next day, Helen did not see Bill. It was unusual for him to be absent. He was almost always at the same service she went to, sitting close to the front on the right side, near the statue of the Virgin Mary. In that sculpture, Mary was depicted as an attractive, young woman without her child, raising her hands from her sides, as if she was about to give a warm embrace. That sculpture was why he sat there, Helen had thought many times before.
When Helen didn’t see Bill at the service, instinctively she knew that something was wrong. He might lust after pretty young women—real women, not statues—and wish out loud for frequent play time with one of them, but that was just talk. She was sure of it. He had been repeating such things since he was a teenager, she sensed. For many years, she had seen that he was a regular churchgoer and active within the church community. She couldn’t explain to herself what might have prevented him from attending church, especially since it seemed that he had broken up with Linda again three days earlier. When he wasn’t trying to please a pretty young thing like Linda, Helen was quite certain he wasn’t doing much of anything, except moping.
When she returned to the apartment building after church, Helen asked Jonathan at the front desk if he had seen Bill. “No, not today,” he said. “Yesterday, he went hiking with Linda. Or that’s where he said he was going.”
“Really?” said Helen. “He went hiking?” She knew he was not the outdoors or athletic type.
“They were supposed to go to Bear Mountain.”
“I wonder if he saw a bear there,” she said.
“Maybe he walked with one.”
“He probably got mauled,” she conjectured. “I think someone should see what shape he’s in.”
“Maybe he’s still in the bear’s cave,” Jonathan suggested.
“That’s doubtful,” she said, walking toward Bill’s apartment. “Bears only like other bears. Bill is more of a weasel.”
When Helen arrived at his apartment, she listened outside the door. She didn’t hear anything on the inside. Pressing her ear to the door, she thought she discerned some low human noises, but she wasn’t sure. Standing back from the door, deliberating, the idea came to her to look into the apartment from the outside, so she went to the nearest exit.
When she came to the window of his apartment—she had gone through the bushes and flowers that surrounded the apartment building, so she was next to the glass—his blinds were open. One section of his window was slightly ajar, so it was possible to hear any sounds that came from inside. Placing her face against the glass, she could see his bed, which was the nearest piece of furniture to the window. On the bed, she could make out a body that appeared to be Bill’s. Although the middle section had the round mound that she associated with him and the clothes looked familiar, it was difficult to identify the body clearly. The head was angled away from the window, and there was a pillow in between the head and her line of vision. Whoever’s body it might be was still fully clothed. Even shoes were on the feet. As she was wondering who it was, moans of deep pain and complete exhaustion arose from the body, and Helen was positive they came from Bill. She tapped on the window with her index finger to get his attention.
“Bill, Bill. Are you all right?” she asked. There was no reply, so she tapped harder.
“Bill, answer me. Are you OK? Do you need some help? What’s wrong?”
He moaned. Weakly, he motioned with a hand, waving at her to leave. In a faint voice, which she could barely hear, he said, “Go away. Go away.” He did not know or try to see who was at the window. He was too miserable to care about anyone beside himself.
Helen understood what she had to do. She disappeared from Bill’s window, breaking the bushes and flowers in her haste to get away.
Approximately five minutes later, there was loud, urgent pounding on Bill’s door, which rudely stirred him awake. He opened his eyes. A voice he identified as Jonathan’s disturbed his rest even more. “Bill, are you in there? Open up.” Bill responded,