Clara's Heart by Joseph Olshan

Author:Joseph Olshan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Delphinium Books

As David stepped off the curb in front of Icey’s house, he noticed a large woman walking hesitantly in the street. He shrank back as soon as he recognized her fur coat.

“You mustn’t frighten of me.” Dora spoke to him kindly. “Me not a criminal. Must be she tell you bad about me.”

“She didn’t tell me anything at all,” David said.

Dora’s flat features appeared even uglier beneath the greenish light of the streetlamp. “So you come to visit Icey?”

David nodded.

“How she looking?”

“Not so good. But I have nothing to compare her to.”

“Dreadful business, dis Obeah,” Dora intoned.

David started to walk on, allowing Dora room to turn into Icey’s walkway. “Hold on a minute,” she called after him.

David stiffened. “What do you want?”

Dora sighed. “Did Clara ever told you about Ralfie?”

“None of your business.”

“I know she don’t tell you.”

“She did tell me, okay?” He began walking away again.

“She couldn’t tell you de whole story.”

David stopped and whirled around. “Why do you care?”

“Me have reasons to care.” Dora’s voice was anguished. “I’m quite sure she don’t tell you why Ralfie’s heart go to de sea; about how he shamed her; and before her, how he shamed me.”

David suddenly found it difficult to breathe; for a moment he even wondered if he was catching the demon of Icey’s disease. “What do you mean his heart go to the sea?” he finally asked.

Dora’s eyes had narrowed and her face filled with hatred. “You must ask her dat. You must certainly ask her,” she said, then turned away. Watching as she waddled toward Icey’s front door, David wondered what Clara would do when she saw her.

As soon as he returned to Clara’s hot, stuffy apartment, David opened the windows and turned the fan back on. He sat down on the love seat, thinking about his strange visit to Icey’s. For some reason, he never even thought to question whether or not Dora was lying to him in order to cause trouble. He was anxious to learn things about Clara without her knowing, and realized he was thus more willing to believe anything he heard. He tried to piece the details together. Had Clara given her child some sort of a sea burial in the Caribbean? Why was Dora so anxious for him to know? If he found out, what would she possibly gain?

Clara’s apartment had grown cool and soon David was shivering. He shut off the fan, watching the blades slowly ceasing to turn, their sounds of beating wings dying down. Silence, in a shudder, fell over the room. The stillness was eventually disturbed by car horns on the boulevard, by the whine of a subway hurtling along a distant trestle. A strange odor wafted up from the cemetery. David imagined it to be the putrefying smell of thousands of bodies buried below him, blending with the smells of Clara’s perfume and of wax.

He lay down on the love seat. Sounds of Christmas caroling threaded their way up through the deep cold. He wondered if

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