Page 78 of Theo of Golden

By early November, “quitting time” and sunset were becoming almost simultaneous for most people who worked downtown, especially after clocks “fell back” for the American habit of daylight savings time.

Shorter days meant that evening bestowals were less and less practical. Additionally, tolerance levels among Goldenites for cool air and dampness seemed extremely low.

And so, Theo decided it was time to curtail the bestowals until warmer weather returned. He would resume when the azaleas bloomed.

By then, he had given portraits to forty-three people. It was a satisfying thought.

If a ledger of the world’s gladness is maintained somewhere, he was confident it had been credited with a considerable deposit from all those meetings at the Fedder.

Forty-three handwritten letters.

At least forty-three hours of conversation.

Forty-three acquaintances and a handful of ongoing friendships.

There was no self-congratulation in his reminiscence; instead, only gratitude that he was allowed to be an instrument in the process.

He imagined forty-three homes that now displayed the artwork of Asher Glissen.

He did a quick mental inventory and recalled Leah the waitress (whose husband was in the Army overseas and whose daughter, a ten-year-old, played soccer), Taquon the sheriff’s deputy (who arrived at his bestowal in uniform), Hardy the old-school barber (who smelled of talcum powder and wondered if it would be vain to hang the portrait in his shop), and Miller P. the lawyer (who told Theo twice that he was sure he’d seen him somewhere before).

And, of course, Cleave Torber (whose desecration still brought a shudder to the old man).

One recipient, who had to be out of town, sent a proxy. Another, Lindsey, arrived with four children in tow.

One, who had only “a couple of minutes,” never sat down. Then he stood and talked for an hour and a half.

There had only been three no-shows.

Theo retained their portraits, thinking that, perhaps, he would reach out to their owners again someday.

Or mail them.

With no return address.

Theo had maintained a record of all the bestowals, with notes about each recipient, in the same small journal where he listed the names of plants, trees, and birds that he was encountering for the first time in Golden.

At almost every meeting, in response to Theo’s simple question — “Could you tell me a bit about yourself?” — recipients told story upon story. Colorful and mundane, tragic and euphoric, articulate and rambling; they ran the gamut.

All forty-three recipients had been told they were capable of saintliness. All had been given a description of what Theo “saw” when he studied their faces in the frame. Almost all were, or seemed to be, grateful for his generosity and equally grateful that someone wanted to hear their story. Many, maybe most, even after his explanation, were befuddled by his kindness to them.

In hindsight, it seemed miraculous to Theo that so many showed up at the Fedder.

If not for the season and the weather, he would gladly have carried on. But now, at least for a while, it was time for a rest.

CHAPTER 44

Golden County Government Center

November term of Superior Court

The building, home to numerous local government offices, was abuzz with activity that morning. On judicial floors nine through thirteen, the broken pieces of failed marriages; the sordid consequences of bad choices; the pursuit of financial damages for injuries, real or fictional; and the undeniable consequences of poverty and ignorance filled the various courts with a sea of humanity.

The elevator to the courtroom of Judge Kenneth McLender was already crowded when Theo stepped on board. It made stops on every floor.

Theo got off at number nine and entered the courtroom. He spotted Kendrick in one of the front rows and took a seat beside him. A tense energy filled the air as victims of crime, family members, defendants, and lawyers waited in various states of nervousness for the day’s proceedings to begin.

Promptly at nine o’clock, Judge McLender entered the courtroom and, after making general announcements, began working through his docket. All matters that day concerned criminal offenses. It was a “hearing day,” meaning no trials would take place. The court was in session simply to rule on pre-trial motions, set bail, accept guilty pleas, and deal with probation violations.