The Old Men and The Angel

By Sandy Raschke

Twenty-year-old Marilynne Krasni never thought she was special. She had lived in poverty all of her life and left La Grande, Oregon at her mother's urging to seek her "future and fortune." When she arrived in Portland to look for work as a printer, there were no job openings and she ended up as a cashier in a diner in downtown Portland.

            

She met ninety-year-old retired attorney and widower, Cecil Claybourne, in a nearby park while taking a lunch break. When they shook hands, the pain in his gnarled arthritic fingers vanished. When she visited him in the hospital after he became ill, his heart condition improved after she kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand. Who or what gave her this healing power? And the change in eye color, from light brown to a sparkly green—changes that occurred only upon her move to Portland.

 

Cecil told her to accept the "gift" and use it wisely. Because of Marilynne's healing ability, he was able to avoid a nursing home and return to his assisted-living residence in Portland. They became good friends and Cecil, her benefactor.

 

A recession took hold, and Marilynne was laid off from several jobs. But wherever she looked for work—Portland, Salem and finally, Eugene—elderly men she found in distress were healed when she shook or squeezed their hands. They all saw a bright white light surrounding her as she ministered to them. With her white-blonde hair, heart-shaped face, and sparkly green eyes, they thought she was an angel sent from God. But was she?

 

And why did Del Diego, the first man ever to kiss then make love to her, wake up beside her with sparkly green eyes and the ability to heal women? And months after his tragic death, her new love, Owen Riggo, wake up to the same?

 

Magic? The supernatural? A quirk of nature? Marilynne Krasni's unwitting journey into an esoteric and mystifying realm also shines a bright light on a number of societal issues: age, disability, class structure, and the belief in a higher power. But it is love and faith, empathy, compassion, and jealousy—eternal and irrefutable human emotions which anchor this story to reality.    

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandy Raschke
• Release date: Sep 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223685005

Book preview

Prologue

Marilynne Krasni had been in Portland, Oregon for one day when she received a cell phone call from the Union County Coroner’s Office: her mother had died. She took the bus back to La Grande and stayed in the family home until she could arrange for her mother’s cremation, settle her meager estate and sell the house she grew up in. Then she returned to Portland with a small nest egg and continued to look for work as a printer. She had been trained to run an offset press and other printing equipment but, so far, no one had given her an interview.

With her savings slowly dwindling and no other prospects, she took the last job offered to her, a minimum-wage position as a cashier in a diner in downtown Portland. She found housing using an internet rental site: a two bedroom apartment on Williams St., she shared with three other young women. Food, her share of utilities, and transportation took eighty percent of her take home pay. And little time to look for other jobs.

And then on a lovely spring morning, she decided to take a break in a nearby park and met Cecil Claybourne. And that is when the magic began.

Chapter 1

Cecil Claybourne had been an attorney for almost sixty years—a severe heart attack followed by the loss of his wife to a horrific accident sent him reeling. She had slipped on the icy front steps of their home eleven years ago in January, broke her hip and cracked open her skull. She fell into a coma and died five days later. Her death led to his abrupt retirement. The partnership he founded, which now included his two sons, bought him out. He told his former partners he was going to travel, visit countries he and Elizabeth had never been to before. Then a second heart attack left him with congestive heart failure and confined him to home.

His family asked him to sell the house and move in with one of them or relocate to an assisted-living retirement community, but he refused. For five years, he stayed at the home he and Lizzy bought and raised their family in, until he concluded he did need help. He hired a live-in maid to cook and do the housework. A year later, she decided to retire and he found no one he liked as a replacement and, without telling his family, struggled for a while on his own.

His sons eventually found out and insisted he find someone to take care of him. So three years ago, he hired a housecleaning service and they came once a week but didn’t prepare meals. He hired a part-time cook. Rudy came on Mondays and prepared dinners to last a week, but it wasn’t enough. Finally, to placate his family, last year Cecil hired an LVN to assist him in his daily activities. By then, he had a shelf full of drugs to take and soon, no appetite. He lost weight and became depressed. The doctor prescribed more drugs.

The LVN took care of his medications and physical needs and prepared healthy foods for him, but his mental state continued to decline. About two months ago, she suggested he go for a walk every day to clear his mind and regain his strength. She offered to go with him and he agreed.

Every morning at 10 o’clock, she drove to a nearby park and they took a short path to a water feature surrounded by benches. He would sit with Marie and watch the birds drink from the small pond then toss small pieces of bread or shelled sunflower seeds toward them and delight in seeing them scramble for the treats.

He thanked her for suggesting he get back into the world, and admitted he enjoyed the physical activity, inhaling fresh air, feeding the birds, and people-watching. Within a few weeks his mind cleared and he felt stronger. He began eating again. The doctor told him he could start tapering off the anti-depressants and also reduced one of his heart medications. The walks continued—every day at 10 o’clock, but not when it rained or was too hot, cold or foggy.

~ ~ ~

One morning, about a month after they started walking, Marie told him she needed to take care of some personal business. Cecil said she could drop him off at the park, he’d go walking, and she could pick him up after she finished her tasks. She said it might take up to three hours and could he manage by himself?

Yes, he said. I’ll wait for you on the bench where I feed the birds.

He didn’t venture far, simply took the shortest path, walked around the pond a few times,  then sat down to take in the scene and wait for Marie to return. The sky was clear and the temperature comfortable, unusual for a spring day in Portland, Oregon. He tossed the crumbled bread and sunflower seeds and when they were gone, got up, stretched, and walked around the pond again.

On the other side he sat down next to a young woman, her hair almost white and tied in a ponytail with a black ribbon. She looked at him. She had bright green eyes that seemed to sparkle and, he thought, the heart-shaped face of an angel. She was sipping something through a straw.

Great day for a walk, he said and she nodded. I haven’t seen you here before.

This is my first time at the park, she said. I work about two blocks away, as a cashier in a diner. I’m on my lunch break and decided to go outside for a change. There are very few days like this in Portland, I’ve discovered.

True. He held out his arthritically-gnarled hand. Cecil Claybourne, retired attorney.

She gently shook it. Marilynne Krasni, currently a cashier.

His eyes suddenly brightened and he laughed. Nice to meet you, Ms. Krasni. I’m waiting for my LVN to pick me up. Usually she walks with me, but she had something to do this morning.

Please call me Marilynne. She sipped the last of her milkshake, got up and tossed the cup into a nearby refuse can.

How long have you been a cashier? he asked when she returned.

Her sparkly green eyes settled on his aged face and he felt a pleasant warmth he had never experienced before. About two months. I had been looking for other jobs, but this one was the first offer and I took it. She gave him a serious look. My savings were dwindling. I even thought about leaving Portland and going home to La Grande, or perhaps moving to Idaho.

He nodded. What were you trained to do, if I may ask?

Printing, she said. Running an offset press, putting together reports, portfolios, etc.

College?

One year at Eastern Oregon University. I dropped out and learned printing at a community college then became a paid intern at a printing company in La Grande. I discovered I’m better at a trade than academics, she said with a slight laugh.

Not everyone needs to go to college, Cecil said. We had our own printing department at the law firm. Maybe you could apply to law firms—or accounting firms, too.

Thank you for the advice, Marilynne said. I never thought of applying at those places, I concentrated on print shops.

Cecil suddenly looked at his watch. I’ve been here three and a half hours but the time has flown by talking with you. My LVN should have been here a half hour ago.

She took out her cell phone. I can call an Uber for you.

I don’t know. I’ve never taken one before. I don’t have a driver’s license anymore and rely on Marie to take me wherever I need to go, mainly doctors these days.

If you are worried, I can accompany you, Marilynne said.

Don’t you have to go back to work?

Yes, but since you’ve given me some alternatives, maybe not.

You are willing to lose your job just to accompany a decrepit old man home? he asked. Doesn’t sound practical, especially given your financial situation.

Decrepit? She shook her head and Cecil laughed. I’m young, she said with a shrug. My savings may be dwindling, but I still have money in my checking account. Should last a few more months.

Let’s wait for a while longer. Marie might have encountered traffic or was held up for some other reason.

~ ~ ~

Another half hour passed and Cecil’s face was punctuated with worry. Marilynne took his hand and lightly squeezed. He felt something electric course through him and looked at her, surprised, but said nothing.

Please let me call an Uber for you, she said.

Okay. I guess I’ll find out what happened soon enough.

~ ~ ~

A few minutes later, the Uber driver stopped at the edge of the park and texted her. Marilynne waved then helped Cecil to his feet and they went out to the street. They got into the cab and he confirmed his address.

When they arrived at his house, he pulled out some bills from his wallet.

Sorry, credit cards only, the Uber driver said. Helps to prevent robbery.

Clyde sighed loudly. Didn’t bring mine, he said. They are in the house. I can get one then come back and pay you.

Before the Uber driver could reply, Marilynne got out her card and gave it to him. Thanks, he said. You want me to wait?

Yes, I’ll be back in a minute or two, she said.

She accompanied Cecil to his front door and waited for him to get out his keys. But along with the keys, he handed her two fifty-dollar bills. How odd—my hands seem more nimble. Usually I have to use both hands on the key to open the door. He smiled. Thank you for helping an old man get home. I wish you success in finding a new job.

She tried to return the money, but he shook his head. Money means nothing to me these days. I’ve found little to spend it on. He opened the door using one hand. Maybe we’ll see each other in the park again and you can tell me about your new job. He gave her a quick hug. Thanks again.

~ ~ ~

Marilynne returned to work and was summarily fired for being over an hour late. She explained the circumstances but the owner of the diner wasn’t in a forgiving mood. He counted out two weeks of pay in cash and told her if she applied for unemployment benefits, he would refute her claim.

She needed to think and walked the 1-1/2 miles to her apartment on Williams Street. Her three roommates were still at work. She got out her tablet and spent the next two hours looking up accounting and law firms and any other company which might have an in-house printing department, such as an advertising agency or a marketing firm.

A week later, after four interviews, she received three offers and took the one offering her the most money and benefits—ironically, only a block away from the park.

~ ~ ~

The accounting firm allowed one twenty minute morning break and another in the afternoon, plus an hour for lunch. And Marilynne spent her morning breaks in the park, hoping Cecil would return and she could tell him the good news and thank him.

Two weeks went by. No Cecil, but she still showed up every morning at ten to wait for him. Then on a Wednesday morning, about the time her break was over, she saw him getting out of a SUV and walking toward the pond. She had five minutes left and waved. He waved back and she rushed towards him.

I want to thank you Cecil for your great advice. I’m working across the street for an accounting firm—great pay and benefits, and I owe it all to you. But I have to get back in a minute or two.

He hugged her. I knew you’d do well, Marilynne, he said. I’ve been ill the last week or so and spent three days in the hospital as a precaution against something more serious. I have so much to tell you. He took in a rheumy breath. Now that I know about Uber, I’m able to do the things I was unable to do before. He hesitated then cleared his throat, took another deep breath, then let it out slowly. Will you have dinner with me? he asked.

Thank you, Marilynne said. I’d be honored.

He handed her a card, with his phone number and the address of the club he belonged to. Seven o’clock, tomorrow night, Multnomah Professionals Club? She nodded. Just tell the manager you are my guest.

Okay, see you tomorrow. Now I have to get back to work.

He waved his sack of crumbs and sunflower seeds. And I need to take my walk.

Chapter 2

When Marilynne got home, she looked through her skimpy wardrobe. She wore slacks or jeans and sweaters to work and had only one dress in her closet, the same dress she wore to the interviews, and a pair of two-inch heels. ‘Professionals Club’ sounded too fancy for the simple navy blue, short-sleeved linen sheath she had hanging in the closet. She got out her tablet and looked for nearby clothing stores open until 9:00 p.m.

After 6 p.m., Trimet reduced service intervals in her neighborhood, so she called for an Uber and the driver dropped her off downtown where there were several clothing stores and boutiques. Nothing too flashy, she thought. Something simple, a sweater and skirt set perhaps?

The first store was too trendy and the clothing garish and she walked across the street to the other, where, within minutes, the shopkeeper understood what she was looking for and handed her a few cotton pullovers and two skirts, one that flared slightly at the bottom. Both had swirls of color—green and turquoise, and matching belts. Looks great with your hair and eyes, dear, the woman said. And Marilynne, using one of the $50 bills Cecil gave her, put the rest on her credit card, and bought both skirts and matching sweaters.

~ ~ ~

On Thursday, she brought one of the outfits to work. She had two financial reports to churn out and one took longer than she estimated. She changed clothes in the rest room, left her work clothes in the supply closet then called for an Uber to take her to the club.   It wasn’t far from the office and she arrived at 6:55 p.m. The club’s façade was magnificent, made of red brick and had beautiful stained glass windows and a clock tower. Almost church-like, she thought. She went inside and was greeted by the manager.

When he learned she was there to have dinner with Cecil Claybourne, he laughed out loud. Really? he said.

Yes, really, she replied.

He stared at her for a long moment, seemingly transfixed, then asked, Are you one of Cecil’s great granddaughters?

No, a friend.

"A friend... Cecil has a friend, he said under his breath, but she heard him. Okay, follow me. He’s having a drink in the bar."

She followed the man through several sitting and club rooms with large crystal chandeliers, wood paneling, parquet floors, and leather chairs and loveseats. The bar itself was an ornate masterpiece of dark polished wood and elaborate carvings and behind it, a huge mirror with a rococo gold-painted frame. She spotted Cecil immediately, sitting at a small table, sipping something from what she presumed was a