Blog #9 - A Goodbye

The day started with Herman waking up early to begin the final chapter of his book.

He and ClaraJean had now read several large-font novels.

"You should paint trees today," Herman told Oliver when he came over to walk Johnny.

"That sounds great. Walk with me, and we can study them!"

After looping around the city, Herman and Oliver arrived back at The Maitland to see a large crowd gathered. The onlookers were murmuring, and Herman heard "Edgar" and "dead". Then, he realized that people were pointing up towards the towers, where a blue-looking silhouette stood near the edge.

"It sounds like they've solved the mystery," Oliver remarked. "Poor Mr. Evans. Killed because of some feud between two brothers."

"Indeed," Herman agreed. "But what's going on at the tower?"

"I have no idea," Oliver said, gazing intently at the figure.

The mumbling within the crowd slowly turned into a hush, and Herman could hear a woman whistling along with the birds.

All of a sudden, bright red flowers floated in front of Herman, and Sayori came dashing after them. She accidentally hit Herman, and he fell to the ground, his hip pounding the asphalt.

"Are you okay?" Oliver asked at once.

Herman grimaced, biting his cheek against the pain. A single tear fought its way out of his eye as he shook his head.

"Help!" Oliver shouted, but nobody turned, so Oliver took Herman to the hospital himself.

Herman was helped into a faded blue gown, and the doctor promptly examined his hip.

"You're lucky it wasn't worse, but surgery is definitely needed. Then, you'll require bed rest. I'll help you explore assisted living facilities."

"No!" Herman protested.

"I'll take care of him," Oliver immediately offered.

"No, Oliver, you deserve your own life. I will live with one of my children."

"But what about my lessons?"

"You're already an artist. There's nothing more I can teach you that you don't already understand."

"You can't leave me!" Oliver sobbed.

"I won't really be gone. Think of me each time you paint a sunrise, and I'll be there, on the horizon, guiding you. Someday, you'll understand why I must leave now. I want the sunset to be your own."

Before Herman went into surgery, he thanked Oliver for his hard work and help. Then, he thought of Ruth and asked her if he had made the right choice in setting Oliver free.

Blog #8 - A Chance Encounter

Herman woke with a start and was shocked to see his breath suspended in the air. He touched his hands to his cheeks and realized his skin felt frozen. As he stepped out of bed, letting his bare feet touch the floor, waves of fiery ice pulsed through his legs and pierced straight through to his heart. As he reached the kitchen, he realized that the window was still open. The evening before, a gentle springtime breeze blew through town, but this morning, Herman saw a fresh coat of snow sparkling in the sunlight.

Once he shut the window and fed Johnny, all Herman wanted was to return under his covers, but he remembered his appointment with Dr. Beal and knew that his daughter would be disappointed if failed to attend. He bundled up in all his coats and taped a note to the door asking Oliver to walk Johnny. The halls were quiet, but the silence outside was deafening. Herman struggled to walk a few blocks when he realized he needed some coffee for strength. Looking around, he saw just one café open, so he headed inside.

Only one customer was sitting in the warm shop, reading from a tattered paperback. After ordering, Herman sat near her and decided to talk.

"Hello," he greeted. "Cold day, isn't it? What brings you out? I'm Herman Marshall, by the way."

The older woman jumped up in her seat, startled by Herman's voice. She had counted on being alone today.

"I'm ClaraJean Mallory, and I came here because I thought I would be the only one," she said pointedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Herman apologized as he got up awkwardly from his seat.

"No, I'm sorry," ClaraJean recovered. "Sorry, ever since my husband died, it's so much harder to be in public."

"I understand," Herman sympathized, "my own wife died just a few years ago. I probably wouldn't be out here now if it weren't for my persistent children."

ClaraJean's eyes clouded over at the mention of children, and she quickly changed the subject.

"Do you like to read?" she asked, showing Herman her book.

"Yes, that's one of my favorites. I have to go to the doctor now, but if you're ever interested in discussing books or having coffee, please let me know."

Herman gave her his address.

"Bye, ClaraJean. It was excellent meeting you!"

It no longer felt so cold outside.

Blog #7 - A Sunrise

Herman was sipping coffee when sunlight streamed through the window. The birds chirped in response to the pink and orange glow, and the flowers on his windowsill peeked out of the moist brown soil. Thoroughly energized, Herman fed Johnny and left his apartment to go to the roof. Despite his sessions with Dr. Beal, he still had lingering joint pain, but he moved easily this morning. When he finally breathed in the crisp air, he felt overcome by a calm he had not felt in years. Herman decided he would have Oliver paint a sunrise in his next lesson.

A few others came to the roof, and they all watched the sky in contemplative awe when suddenly Herman felt exhaustion rush through his body. His knees buckled underneath his weight. All he wanted to do was return to bed.

An hour later, Herman was still making his way back to his apartment. When he finally opened the door, he saw Oliver playing with Johnny.

"Herman!" Oliver called excitedly. "I was wondering where you went. I walked Johnny, but I decided to wait for you to return. I was hoping maybe I could have a lesson today."

"Not today. Thanks for walking Johnny, though."

Herman immediately regretted speaking when he saw the grin disappear from Oliver's face. He had never refused a lesson before.

"I'm sorry, Oliver, but I'm too tired today. It's like I've been drugged."

"Let me help you, then," Oliver decided.

"There's nothing you can do," Herman admitted. "I just need to sleep."

Herman returned to his bedroom and drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Meanwhile, Oliver stayed in the kitchen. He had already finished his homework in the hope that he would have a lesson, so he had no reason to go home. Instead, he studied Herman's paintings. He was immediately drawn to one depicting an ethereal sunrise over a choppy ocean. Since the paint and brushes were out from his last lesson, Oliver thought he would try to make his own sunrise.

Hours later, Herman emerged from his nap, and Oliver paused from his work. Herman was still feeling sluggish until he saw Oliver's sunrise, and like this morning, he felt energy course through his veins.

"Tomorrow, I'll give you a real lesson, Oliver, but you really don't need me at all."

"No," Oliver affirmed, "I could not do any of this without you."

Blog #6 - A Memory

Herman's ringing alarm clock jolted him out of deep sleep. He reached for his glasses, but they could not clear his vision from the fog that had impregnated his apartment. Herman picked up the newspaper as he began to prepare breakfast. Herman stared at the text, trying to make out the words, when he saw the date: January 11th, 2013. Suddenly, he felt the fog seep through his eyes and ears, and when the sensation passed, he saw his wife, Ruth, gazing at him from across the table.

"Herman, dear," she croaked, "could you make me another cup of tea?" She gestured to her walker to indicate that she would do it herself if she could.

"Of course," he replied, already filling the kettle.

"It's quite the foggy day," Ruth remarked. "It reminds me of the summers we spent in Maine when we were younger."

"Those were the most perfect days," Herman agreed. "Of course, there was nothing more beautiful than watching the blue sea and sky blend together, but the fog was special. It made me feel like there was nothing else in the world except for us and the crashing waves."

"Remember how we would read during those endless days? We devoured book after book. I miss that."

The whistling kettle pulled Herman and Ruth from their memories.

"Let's do it," Herman decided.

"What?"

"Spend the day like we did back when we were young, reading and carefree."

A slight smile crept across Ruth's face, but it quickly faded.

"But Herman, you know I can't do that anymore." Ruth gulped, then proceeded, "you must remember that I'm dying."

"That doesn't give you any permission to stop living, dear. I'll go to the library and find the most adventuress book we haven't read, and then I'll read it to you. It won't be the same as before, but it'll be better."

Herman placed the tea down beside Ruth's trembling hand, lightly kissed the top of her head and put on his coat by the door.

"I'll be back soon!" Herman called as he left.

In the halls, Herman heard the others murmuring about Ether Maitland's murder, but Herman was too preoccupied to gossip. In thirty minutes, he was back with the book.

Herman and Ruth read late into the night until they saw the fog clear and fell asleep.

The next morning, Herman awoke with Johnny by his side.

Blog #5 - A Wish

Herman regretted telling Lamar about Sayori Fuji creeping around outside of Mr. Evans' room. Now, anytime he ran into Lamar, he was interrogated about what he saw. As much as Herman wanted to find the killer, he was growing tired of the murder obsession. For weeks, the newspaper headlines were variations on the same tune: "New witnesses investigated in Evans murder," "New lead in Maitland tragedy," "Possible murder weapon identified," yet there were never any real updates. Even his children quizzed him each time he called and offered their own perspectives. He debated attending his appointments with Dr. Beal -- he felt remarkably less sore and more agile, but the waiting room debates about Mr. Evans were growing intolerable. Herman wanted to remember his quiet and caring friend, not hear conspiracy theories that gentle Mr. Evans was a leader in the mafia.

Luckily, Oliver was equally as uninterested in discussing Mr. Evans. Herman was also relieved to find that Oliver disdained the Savannah Silva movie, and the two instead discovered common ground in painting. Initially, Oliver came over a couple times a day to walk Johnny, but he was so interested in Herman's artwork and stories that he stayed for longer each visit. 

"If you want, I can give you painting lessons," Herman offered as Oliver was leaving to go home. 

"Really?" Oliver was amazed. He had never had much time to pursue hobbies; he had been working since he was able. "That would be incredible! I'll walk Johnny for free."

"No, of course I will still pay you," Herman laughed, as if the thought was hilarious. "You'll be doing me a favor. I can't paint anymore, but I'd love to teach you. It'll be better than painting myself. You can start tomorrow evening."

"That would be great. Thank you so much!" As Oliver left, he shook his head in wonder, surprised by his good fortune. 

Herman was struck by Oliver's raw talent. For a boy so toned and strong, he held the brush delicately, and his deft strokes across the canvas conveyed emotion it had taken Herman years to master. When Oliver left, he heard about the stargazing on the roof and went back for Herman. The crowd was hushed by the beautiful shooting star, but it was when Herman saw Oliver's twinkling eyes that he wished he would be a good enough teacher for his new protégé.

Blog #4 - A Day at the Movies

Herman left John Beal's office feeling sore but relieved. His daughter was right; seeing the doctor helped, and he was armed with stretches to improve his strength. Now, he had to contact Oliver Moore. He meant to find Oliver earlier, but he was preoccupied with helping Lamar solve Mr. Evans' murder, attending the funeral and enjoying the snow. He was analyzing his last dinner with Mr. Evans as he walked across The Maitland and knocked on 0708W. A boy with shaggy brown hair and startlingly green eyes opened the door.

"Hello. My name is Herman Marshall. Are you Oliver? Herman asked.

"Yeah, that's me. So you're the one with the dog, Johnny? Lamar told me you'd come around soon," Oliver explained.

"Indeed. Are you still interested? Johnny needs a lot of walks."

"Definitely. I'd love to help out," Oliver assured Herman.

"Can you come by tomorrow evening to meet Johnny? My room's 0601E."

"Yes."

"Excellent! Thanks so much."

Herman walked back pleased with his first encounter with Oliver. He decided to go to Cinema 17 and watch a popular movie so that he and Oliver could have something to talk about tomorrow evening.

He bought popcorn while considering his movie options. As he was looking at the posters, he accidentally spilled his popcorn. An employee whose name tag read "Owen" quickly dashed over to clean up the mess.

"Thanks," Herman said, and taking advantage of the opportunity, asked, "Which movie is popular with the kids?"

"Definitely the Savannah Silva one," Owen replied with a slight trace of annoyance.

Herman was turning to buy a ticket when Owen cleared his throat, paused a second, and asked Herman if he had noticed anything strange about Sayori Fuji.

"I know you're Herman. Everyone says you and Mr. Evans were good friends. This sounds crazy, but I keep seeing Sayori in random places, and then all of a sudden, she disappears. Could it be related to the murder?"

"Actually, now that you mention it, I saw her lurking around the hall by Mr. Evans's room before our last dinner together, but I never thought anything of it. I'll tell Lamar as soon as the movie's over."

"I'll talk to Lamar after my shift," Owen decided.

Thanks to Owen, Herman found the clue that was right in front of him all along. After the movie, Herman rushed back to The Maitland to find Lamar.

Blog #3 - A Dinner Out

After another week of painful walks with Johnny, Herman decided to consider
the note Susan left urging him to go to the doctor and find a dog walker. He
realized that he had no idea which doctor to call, so he went to ask some of the
other Maitland residents. He was out in the hall when he was bombarded by Lamar.

“Herman,” Lamar called out, blocking the path to the elevator. “What can you tell me
about Mr. Evans?” he demanded.

“He was a true friend,” Herman replied as he attempted to squeeze past Lamar.

“I mean about his murder,” Lamar sighed impatiently.

“I probably know less than you do,” Herman said pointedly. “We had dinner
together just a few nights before his death, and nothing seemed different to me.
We’ve enjoyed meals for years, so I would know if something was off. Trust me,
everything seemed fine.”

“Maybe that’s all you remember right now, but I know there’s something
you’re not sharing. Join me and the other old folks for dinner tonight. We’ll meet
at Alice’s at seven and solve this mystery.”

“See you then,” Herman muttered as he walked past Lamar towards the
elevator. He would at least enjoy talking to his neighbors. He suddenly turned
back. “Hey, Lamar!” Herman yelled down the hallway.

“Changing your mind already, Herman?” Lamar asked as he eagerly strode
down the hall.

“No, it’s not about Mr. Evans.” Herman watched as Lamar’s eyes quickly
lost their glow. “I hate to say it, but I think my daughter’s right. I’m in need of a good
dog walker for Johnny, and I was wondering if you might have anyone in mind to
help me out.”

“If you come to dinner tonight, I’ll give you a name.”

“Thanks, Lamar.”

Herman decided to wait until dinner to ask about a doctor, and he spent the
afternoon reflecting on his friendship with Mr. Evans. Herman would help Lamar
solve the crime, but only to honor his friend. Sunset came and Herman joined
the others at Alice’s.

“Anyone know a good doctor for a tired back?” Herman asked as he settled
into the chair Lamar left for him and sipped the coffee from Alice.

The others agreed that John Beal was a great option. Before the conversation turned to
Mr. Evans, Lamar slid Herman a note that read:

Oliver Moore

Age 16

0708W

Blog #2 - A Concert

Herman awoke to the pitter-patter of raindrops tapping against his windowpane. He
stretched his arms above his head and wiggled his toes, hearing the distinct creak of
his joints. He gradually sat up, grabbing his bedside table for support, careful not to
tweak his already sore back. He glanced at the clock, and saw that it was 5:37 am.
He turned the 6:15 alarm off and got out of bed, then shuffled to the kitchen to begin
breakfast. He ate a bowl of Cheerios while the kettle boiled, and flipped through
yesterday’s mail, seeing a flyer advertising Conrad’s concert. He immediately smiled.

After his coffee, Herman went into the bedroom to wake Johnny for his walk. Herman
did not see anyone out on the streets, partially due to the early hour and also because
everyone was terrified to leave their apartments. He was tired of everyone waiting inside,
as if the sadness and fear about Mr. Evans’ death would somehow disappear if they
stayed pent up long enough. He missed the conversations he was used to having with
the other Maitland residents.

The walk around the block took Herman longer each day. Now, he had to stop and rest
against the trash cans along the route and be careful to hold onto Johnny’s leash as he
lurched ahead after the exciting smells. His knees felt swollen and heavy, but Herman
was distracted by his excitement about the concert and the opportunity to catch up with
his neighbors as they left the isolation of their apartments. He decided to invite his
daughter, Susan, who lived less than an hour away.

Susan arrived the afternoon before the concert. She played some of Herman’s favorite
piano pieces while he prepared a light dinner. Then, they went to take Johnny out before
they left. Susan was immediately struck by her father’s short, painful strides, and she
offered to walk Johnny while he stayed at The Maitland and rested.

“Dad, please don’t hurt yourself,” Susan plead.

“I’m fine. Just because something has been happening as of late does not mean that it
is permanent. I’m sure it’ll set itself straight in a few days.”

Susan did not see the point of fighting her father, but she left a note on the kitchen table
begging Herman to see his doctor and hire a dog walker. Then, they went and
thoroughly enjoyed Conrad’s performance.

Blog #1 - A Rainy Day

The day started with Herman’s alarm clock beeping at 6:15 am. He fumbled around his
bedside table, reaching to turn the alarm off and find his glasses. He accidentally knocked
over the picture of his deceased wife, Ruth. Herman slowly rolled out of bed, massaging
the cramp in his lower back. He clutched the bedside table for support and then slowly
made his way toward the foot of the bed, where his beagle, Johnny, lay sleeping.

“C’mon, good boy,” Herman called as he tenderly rubbed Johnny’s stomach. “It’s time to
wake up.” Once awake, Johnny jumped out of bed and dashed toward the kitchen.
Chuckling, Herman followed his dog. Before starting breakfast, Herman tuned the radio to
the classical music station and hummed along to the symphony. He fed Johnny and then
started his coffee. Even though Herman could see out the window that the day would be
wet and grey, he was already surrounded by enough color. The walls of the kitchen were
lined with his landscape paintings and pictures of his children and grandchildren.

After breakfast, Johnny was eager to get outside. Herman grabbed an umbrella before
heading toward the elevator to get downstairs. It was when he was walking in the hall
that Herman remembered about Mr. Evans. He would miss his fellow old-timer and the
conversations they shared over red wine and jazz. He hoped that the police would quickly
solve the crime.

Once outside, Herman struggled to keep up with Johnny. His achy knees resisted as
Johnny pulled ahead on the leash, eager to follow new smells. Luckily, the street was
almost empty at this hour, so Herman did not have to worry about accidentally hitting
other pedestrians. After a loop around the block, Johnny was satisfied. The twosome
headed back towards their apartment, shaking off the rain when they got to the lobby.

After the walk, Johnny fell asleep while Herman sat down to read a book from his large
library. He had to strain to see the words, and eventually, he gave up on reading and went
to the piano. He played a few chords, but his fingers were too stiff to do much more.

In the afternoon, Herman called each of his five children and talked for a couple hours,
then took Johnny for another walk. After dinner, he settled into bed and fell asleep to
Johnny’s soft snores.