stood in the center of the room for a period of time she could not measure, and then she heard a noise somewhere outside the door to the room, and footsteps approaching it. She heard the door open behind her and found herself suddenly standing in a rectangle of dim light that appeared on the linoleum floor. She could feel the person who had opened the door standing a few feet behind her, in the doorway, and was aware of the shadow falling onto her back, and beneath her, onto the floor, a dark unfelt embrace.
Was it God?
She turned around to see a man standing in the doorway. Because the light was behind him, at first she could only make out his tall thin silhouette. But then, as if he knew she could not see him, he turned slightly, and the light from the hallway fell so that it revealed his face.
She realized then that it was Brother Emmanuel, but she had not recognized him because he had removed his ecclesiastical costume and was dressed very simply in trousers and a turtleneck sweater.
Please, get back into your bed, Brother Emmanuel said. It’s cold. He gestured toward the bed and stepped forward, as if he might help her get back into it, but then stepped back again, afraid, it seemed, of getting too close to her, or the bed.
Only because she was so cold, the woman sat on the bed and carefully drew her legs up from the floor and slid them beneath the bedclothes. Then she lay back and pulled the blankets up around her neck and waited, gazing up at the ceiling, like a child at bedtime. Would Nanny visit her again with supper on a tray?
She heard a noise and turned to see that Brother Emmanuel was dragging a small wooden chair away from the wall. He placed it in the center of the room, a distance from her bed, and sat down on it. She did not understand why he had not drawn the chair closer to her bed. She waited, thinking that he might sense the inappropriateness of his distance from her and move closer, but he did not, so she surprised herself by saying, Will you come closer?
Closer? he asked.
Yes, she said. You’re so far away. I can barely see you. This was true: the only light in the room was the light that fell in from the hallway through the open door, and Brother Emmanuel sat on the far side of that light, in shadow.
He waited a moment, and then moved the chair nearer to the bed, placing it exactly in the center of the pool of light.
She looked at Brother Emmanuel carefully for a moment, emboldened by the fact that he was now visible while she was obscured by darkness. She remembered she had come to see him that morning—unless it was longer ago than that; she had no sense of how much time had passed.
What time is it? she asked.
About five o’clock, Brother Emmanuel said.
In the morning?
No. The evening.
Why am I here? she asked. What happened?
You don’t remember?
No, she said. I remember coming here, and asking to see you, and waiting—
And nothing else?
No, she said. I remember the fire, the fire in the fireplace.
Yes, said Brother Emmanuel. I’m not surprised. Fire is elemental. We always remember fire.
But what happened?
You became upset, said Brother Emmanuel. We thought you might harm yourself, so we gave you a sedative. You’ve slept all afternoon. How do you feel?
Cold, she said. I was upset?
Yes, said Brother Emmanuel. Very. You don’t remember?
The woman tried to think, tried to remember, but the fire in the fireplace was all she could recall: the heat and sound and energy of it, like something alive, something that belonged outdoors, trapped inside the room.
My husband, she said. I was supposed to meet him at the orphanage this afternoon. Has he come here?
No, said Brother Emmanuel.
What must he think? Where can he be?
Darlene left word for him at the hotel. He knows you are here.
Then why didn’t he come?
I don’t know, said Brother Emmanuel. Perhaps there are no taxis. The snow is overpowering today.
The snow, the woman said. How can you stand it? Why do you stay here?
In the summer it is beautiful, said Brother Emmanuel. The days are green and golden, and very long.
Yes, said the woman. But still—why don’t you go away in the winter?
I like the weather here. In the summer and in the winter. For me it is all beautiful.
Are