Umber (21.7 — Leroy’s Story)

Vera’s voice was extraordinary.  When Florence spoke, she made sounds that were high-pitched and chirpy.  But Vera’s voice was low, almost like Greta Garbo’s, only smoother, gentler.  I pondered this as I sat near the confessional, looking at the statue of St. Theresa.  I imagined it was Vera standing there, barefooted in the rose petals.  The rose petals turned into pebbles at the edge of a creek, and Vera opened her mouth and called to the trout in the water, saying, “Come to the land, fish.”  The trout, each like a little Ulysses, struggled to break free of the water, until some magic in her voice unleashed them, and they levitated and swam through the air, dropping themselves at the feet of the siren saint who beckoned them.       

The scene in my waking dream changed.  Vera, still barefoot and wearing St. Theresa’s robes, stood behind me at a card table, whispering, “Royal flush, come to Leroy.”