belonged to the Faculty Wives Club. She had a small job. On Wednesdays and Fridays she worked at the Minnesota Historical Society. She volunteered, actually. She worked in retrieval in the research library, going into the stacks, bringing back requested material. Sometimes she looked through the books, reading about subjects such as Ojibway winter spirits. She liked the cool, gray metal stairs, the battleship gray floors. The orderliness. The fire-proofed structure. But she felt nothing she wanted to feel. She could plug the longing now and then. Dream of an actual job with responsibility and satisfaction. That was the American dream.
There was Stephen’s briefcase— in his closet again. She called him at Cobson. Did he want her to drive it there? Yes. She was used to delivering forgotten things.
Solome had raised three children. She had served in PTA and Brownie troops. She had made some of the girls’ clothes. She took risks. She chose yellow wallpaper with turquoise flowers for the dining room. Maybe garish was the word for my risk, in that case. She was present with Stephen at dinners and social gatherings. She was the visible wife of the provost of Cobson College. She knew what to say to others.
Salome, the mother of the disciples, James and John, had been at the tomb of Jesus with Susanna, Joanna, who was the wife of Chuzas, Herod’s steward, and other women who had been healed of spirits and demons, including Mary Magdalene. What were demons? Was that what was pursuing Stephen?
But Solome’s ordinary American life was blessed. She didn’t need to worry about demons. There were no tanks in the street. No gunshots in the neighborhood. No fear for her children’s lives, though American cities were not safe, and at night she hurried toward her house along the lighted sidewalk with the dog. She wished sometimes they lived farther out in the suburbs, but Stephen liked being close to the college. They’d been in the same house nearly twenty-five years.
Where did the mind go when the circuits shut down?
Solome looked through the photo albums of trips and outings, birthdays, scouting and school programs, the high school graduations of their three children.
What was missing? God, what was it? God? Late one evening when she was waiting for Stephen to come back on a plane after a conference on retaining faculty, before she started to the airport to get him, she was passing through the t.v. channels and saw an evangelist on television. He preached a sermon and said she needed Jesus in her life. There was a woman listening who needed to be saved. Accept Jesus as your Savior. She sat in the chair and repeated after the evangelist, Lord Jesus Christ, you died for my sins, I accept you as my Savior.
Now she had an American religion.
While Salome had asked Jesus if her sons, James and John, could sit by his side in heaven, Solome asked Jesus to be by her side. Well, now she had Jesus. What next?
The sin would disappear from her life, the minister on television said. What was her sin? She was faithful. Punctual. Conscientious. Consistent. What had she done that Jesus had to die on the cross?
When she picked Stephen up from the airport, she said nothing to him about her television evangelistic experience.
Stephen Savard
In the airport forgot which gate looked at pass again again. Had trouble sleeping in hotel. Pillow hard. These— episodes turmoil. Thought of meeting. Disinterested. Only wanted to leave. Why didn’t I care about this? Always careful in meetings and information dissemination.
There were episodes? Our lives running through. Keys with Soos’ car. A call when. Have it towed. There clear up. I’ll take care I’m on my way back.
I could hear the baby cry.
Solome Savard
Solome was used to upward mobility, but now she sensed a collision with life as she knew it. No, life as she knew it was colliding with what she didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. She hardly was aware of it, but Stephen was stepping off a continental shelf. Maybe it was a recognition that moved in her sleep, deep in her dreams. Could Solome continue without Stephen? What had she ever done without him? Could she face herself before God alone? Oh God, what could she do? There was a landscape like a Salvador Dali painting in her head when she opened the Bible. “The Lord shall descend from heaven with a shout; and the dead in Christ shall rise first; then we who are alive shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. Wherefore, comfort one another with these words.”— I Thessalonians 4:16–18. What comfort was that? Solome thought— Being yanked through the sky when she didn’t want to go. She closed the Bible.
Sometimes she numbered her duties to herself. Her book of numbers. Cordiality was part of Solome’s fabric, her veil. She remembered her line of duties. Her children always had been ready for school. She had been at home when the children returned from school. She oversaw homework. She got them ahead. She hosted parties when her husband was chair of the history department at Cobson College. She hosted more parties when he was division dean, and when he became provost. Once, she had planned to continue to host parties when Stephen was president.
Sometimes everything numbed her. She called Reverend Croft, her minister, and made an appointment. “I need to know about faith.” She wanted more from church. How could she tell him that? What was she doing? After their talk, a woman with the last name of Forman called Solome and asked her to their Bible study group. What conspiracy was in the church? Solome agreed to come before she knew it. She would go just once to see who these strange people were.
It wasn’t church, but the Bible and the reading of it. Maybe that was the barking dog. There were words that demanded to be heard, to be paid attention. She was a Christian in a Christian nation. But she didn’t know what that meant. She was a nominal Christian in a nominal nation. What was it like to be a believer who walked in faith? Was she in or out? Hot or cold? Maybe that’s what Brown wanted. Meaning in his life. The dog was part of Solome out there in the yard. Digging trenches as if for war. Did soldiers even dig trenches anymore?
Two of her children, Gretchen and Mark, were in college. One daughter, Susanna, whom they called Soos, returned home after her marriage and the birth of a daughter, Solome and Stephen’s only grandchild. But after a few months, Soos had reconciled with her husband. Sometimes when Stephen worked late, or had meetings, she began to feel her life was her own.
What if, in the middle of this new feeling of self-direction, her life turned a corner where she didn’t want to go? What if the walls of her house were pinching together? Slowly, of course, so slowly she hardly noticed. What if her outward course reversed? The fear gripped her. What if her direction changed to downward mobility? She couldn’t stand the thought. It was not what she wanted. What if it was some sinister force? Solome realized she was sweating.
On Monday evenings, Solome went to Bible study. She wanted to grow stronger in her faith. What did that mean? She would rely on what the Bible said, rather than on her circumstances?
Stephen Savard
Gretchen and Dennis were coming. No— they had called they might be coming but it wasn’t settled yet. What was his last name? Solome tried to remember.
“Dennis something.”
“Yes I know but what?”
“I don’t know, Stephen,” Solome said. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
What would I say to him? Why was he coming?
In the end, they postponed.
Solome Savard
Solome
