Invisible Touch

Invisible Touch

Chapter 17 ~ The Meeting

Ernie was head over heels in love. Another 23 year old might be inspired to begin months of doodling and daydreaming. Not Ernie. Love made Ernie want to work hard and make an even greater impression on Kim. Here she was studying at the top law school in the world, preparing to be a high powered attorney, or whatever in the world she might want to be. And what was he?

It was time to put his ideas and plans to good use, he knew. Ernie was full of great ideas, and now he had a plan. This particular plan had been born in the White Mountains of New Hampshire.

Ever since Kim had first learned of the shopping haven to the north, she had hoped to get away and visit the tax free Granite State. They had made a trip during the busiest tourist season when October brought beautiful colors to the trees and armies of leaf peepers to look at them. Their first journey had been just over the border into Southern New Hampshire. There was no place to stay, of course, but they hoped to return once the busy season was over.

There are a few weeks, however, between the falling of the last leaf and the opening of the ski season, when the "vacancy" signs come back out. Ernie called and made a reservation at an inn in Franconia, just south of where the "Old Man of the Mountain" had been. This was a touchy subject. Seven years had passed since New Hampshire's most famous landmark and state symbol had given way to time and nature, but many local residents were still in denial. It was better to use the word "is" than "was" when referring to the existence of the "Old Man".

Their plan was to drive up to Tilton early Saturday morning, do some more shopping, stay the night at the inn, and enjoy a leisurely Sunday morning. The rest, they would figure out once they got there.

It was a nice enough drive up I-93. They knew the scenic parts were further north, but they could see mountains all around that were still plenty impressive. And they were amused by all of the rest areas, right off of the Interstate, with a State operated liquor store at each one.

It was only an hour and a half before they saw the signs for exit 20. Minutes later they arrived at the Outlet Mall, a huge array of stores -- clothing, shoes, things for their apartment -- Kim didn't know where to start first.

"Why don't we start over at this end," Ernie suggested. "And we'll work our way around to the other side. We ought to be done with our shopping around New Years!"

"Funny boy," she replied.

There was so much to choose from, but Kim didn't seem to have any trouble making choices. So much that she "had to have." Ernie just laughed.

"Where are you going to put all this," he teased. "You're going to overflow your closet."

"Well, then, I'll just have to put your stuff in a box," she joked.

In one of the home furnishing stores, she found a great bargain on sheets and comforters.

"Look, Ernie," she said. "We can have matching beds!"

He wasn't sure what was wrong with the mis-matched beds, but they did look warm and winter was just around the corner.

They shopped until they nearly dropped and had a late lunch before getting on the road. It wasn't long before the "oohs" and "ahhs" of the White Mountain scenery took over their conversation. "Magnificent" was the only way to describe it.

The inn was not far from the highway, and they arrived just before dark. "Bugle Hill Inn. Frank and Martha Hutchins, proprietors," the sign read. The couple at the check in-in desk appeared to be in their sixties. They must be the owners, Ernie thought.

"One night, non smoking," the woman read from the reservation card.

"And two beds," Ernie added.

"Did'ja have a fight?" the woman asked.

"Shoppin'll do it every time," her husband added. "Eh, Martha?"

"No, we're not married," Ernie said.

"That's OK, we'ah not gonna tell ya' parents," the woman replied.

Ernie laughed. "No, it's not like that," he said.

"OK, but I have to warn you, that fireplace, it's awfully romantic," the man said.

"Oh Frank, stop that," Martha said, and smacked him on the arm.

The "Profile Suite" was available and Frank took Kim's bag and escorted them their. There were two queen beds in the room and the huge bathroom contained a whirlpool tub. By the fireplace there was a sofa and two big chairs.

Frank quickly started a fire for them. Some kind of magic had to be involved, Kim thought.

"That's amazing," she said.

"Just takes practice," Frank replied modestly.

"You folks have a nice stay," he told them. "Breakfast starts at seven o'clock, and on Sundays it's brunch until one in the afternoon."

Kim and Ernie thanked Frank and he left with a wink.

"Nice folks," Kim remarked.

"Yeah," Ernie agreed. "I think the surly New England reputation is just some kind of ploy to provide intrigue for the tourists."

They sat by the fire for a while. Kim always had something to study for school, and she pulled a large book out of her bag. Ernie had brought along the latest Dan Brown novel -- he opened it to where his bookmark was -- about half way through -- and picked up where he had left off the day before.

It wasn't long before Kim's heavy book started drooping.

"I'm going to turn in," she told Ernie.

"I would too, but I'm almost finished with this and I can't put it down," he said.

They said goodnight and Ernie read a while longer before he found he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.

"Goodnight," he said to the angel sleeping in bed next to his.

When Kim woke up, Ernie was just where she had left him.

"You haven't been up all night with that book, have you?" she asked.

"No," he chuckled. "I've just been up a half hour and couldn't wait to get back into this."

"Interesting?" she asked.

"Very," he said. "His books always are."

He marked the page where he had been reading and began to put the book down on the table."

"Oh no, you keep reading," Kim told him. I'm going to shower and get dressed."

She took her things into the bathroom and Ernie opened up his book again. That fifteen minutes was all he needed. Just as she was coming back into the room, Ernie closed the book.

"And they lived happily ever after," he said.

Kim smiled. "I can't wait to read that -- one of these years!"

She kept pretty busy, Ernie knew. But you got out what you put in, after all.

There was a loud thump outside the door. Ernie opened it up to see what was going on.

"With our compliments," came Frank's voice from down the hall.

On the floor just outside was a fresh copy of The New Hampshire Sunday News, the Sunday edition of the famous Union Leader newspaper. Ernie brought it inside and set it on the table by the sofa.

"I call the crossword puzzle," Kim said.

"Don't you have work to do?" Ernie teased.

Ordinarily they made a copy of their Boston Globe Sunday crossword puzzle, so they could each work on their own. Ernie didn't mind letting Kim do this one. Besides, he knew, the Globe puzzle was waiting for him at home.

"So what's going on in the news?" Ernie said, and picked up the local news section.

Kim had already taken out her favorite pen and was hard at work on 15 across. Ernie read one of the articles.

"It gets earlier and earlier," Ernie said.

"What does?" Kim asked.

"The Presidential election," he said. "The 2012 New Hampshire primary is still fifteen months away, and already they're making weekly visits."

Ernie wasn't a very political person, and found the whole spectacle a bit much.

"I don't know why they bother," Kim said. "Jackson's going to be re-elected for sure, he has done so much good in his first term." It was more prediction than opinion, but both Kim and Ernie had voted for President Jackson's first term, and by any independent measure he had turned out to be a fine president.

"Hmm, I think you're right about that," Ernie said.

He read another story that caught his eye.

"This is interesting," he said.

"What's that?" Kim asked.

"The school district in Nashua is doing a study on how to get more help for teachers in the classroom. Says here that they're having to do more with less," he said.

"That's nothing new," Kim remarked.

"Class sizes are near their maximum levels and the school age population keeps growing faster than the budget for hiring teachers. They are trying to find a way to reduce the burden on teachers by putting more assistants in classrooms. Volunteers are harder to come by with so many two worker and single parent families in the city."

Kim put down her puzzle. "Got any ideas?" she asked.

"You know I do," he said with a smile. "Remember 'Granny Care'?" he asked.

"Of course I do," she said.

"What if they hired retired teachers to help out in classrooms?" Ernie suggested.

Kim laughed. "They probably retired for a reason," she said. She pretended to pull her hair out.

"Yeah," he said. "Still, it's a possibility."

"I'm just teasing," Kim said. "I think it's a great idea to try something like that."

"And not just retired teachers," Ernie added. "I'm not saying to just put any warm body in the classroom to help the teacher. But retired people of all backgrounds could add a lot."

"That's true," Kim agreed.

Ernie jotted down some information from the article.

"What's a five letter word for 'excellent'?" Kim asked, holding up her puzzle.

"Umm, how about..." Ernie began.

"E-R-N-I-E," Kim said with a smile.

Ernie laughed. "How would you like some B-R-U-N-C-H?" he asked.

On Monday, Ernie got in touch with one of the people from the school district he had read about in the paper. Dr. Phoebe Snow was in charge of the study, and was happy to hear that the newspaper article had generated some interest in the community, even if it was from an out of town tourist. They set up a meeting to discuss the problem and ideas that Ernie might bring to a solution.

Face to face meetings were important, he knew, and he didn't have any staff yet to send in his place. Public transportation was difficult for Ernie, but there wasn't much choice. He certainly couldn't drive himself to a meeting in New Hampshire, and a forty mile taxi ride would be extremely expensive. The train was the only way. The subway would take him to the commuter rail station, and that train would take him to Nashua. He would take a taxi from the new Nashua train station to the school district offices where the meeting was to be held.

As the day of the meeting approached, Ernie wondered what he had gotten himself into. He dreaded the trip and considered canceling it. No, he told himself, he couldn't do that. He had found a way to bring younger people and older people together, and he owed it to Mrs. Appleton to try and make it happen.

When it was time for Ernie to go, Kim could see the agony he was in and offered to drive him to the meeting.

"That's sweet of you to offer," Ernie said. "But I have to be able to do things like this."

His pride was at stake, she could see. This was so important to him. She tried not to make a big deal about it.

"Well, I'll see you when you get home," she told him. "And whoever's home first will make dinner. That's only fair, right?"

"Right," Ernie agreed.

It wasn't nearly as bad as he had imagined. The meeting was scheduled for 1 PM so he wouldn't be traveling at peak commute times. The subway cars and the train both had plenty of space, and Ernie never felt crowded. As soon as he was certain of his arrival time, he called ahead to have a taxi meet him at the station.

Everything was going well until Ernie sat in the reception area of the school offices and realized he was going to have to shake hands with the people he would be meeting with. This was impossible, he thought. How many people would be there? How long would he have to sit there and wait for the vision to begin? He couldn't do it. He would have to think of something.

He considered making up some kind of skin disorder, but he didn't have any symptoms. And besides, these people were educators. They weren't going to believe some crazy story. What would he call it? Surely someone would be curious and look it up on the Internet and he would be found out.

Time was running out. By the time of the meeting, Ernie hadn't thought of anything.

"You must be Mr. Maxwell," said a voice. "I'm Dr. Snow. Phoebe Snow. Please, call me Phoebe."

Ernie rose from his chair. Dr. Snow held out her hand and he shook it. What else could he do?

"I'm Ernie," he said. "It's nice to meet you in person."

"My colleagues have been called into another meeting, so let's just get started," she said. "I don't want to waste any of your time.

"That would be fine," Ernie said. The fewer people the better, he didn't say.

They walked to a conference room and Ernie took the seat furthest from the door. If anyone joined them, he thought, he could just wave to them from across the room.

"Let's get right to it," Ernie said. "I'm excited to tell you about my ideas."

"Well, let's hear them," she replied.

Ernie had told her on the phone about the Appleton Charitable Trust, about its mission "to promote intergenerational activity and understanding," he had quoted from the organizational charter.

"There are business organizations," Ernie said, "that bring together more experienced business people with less experienced business people to assist with startups, for example. Retired executives receive great satisfaction from helping new companies get started and succeed in their fields.

"My idea is to bring experienced individuals of all backgrounds together with school students. Retired teachers, engineers, scientists, even retired executives have a great deal to contribute to our young people."

Dr. Snow appeared to be interested in what he was saying.

"A program of senior citizen assistants in our school's classrooms would have a number of benefits. First, it would provide the classroom teacher the ability to concentrate on his or her job. Second, it would provide a pair of hands to help with lessons, assignments, corrections, and so on. Third, it would provide the interaction between younger and older generations that my dear friend, Helen Appleton found so rewarding in her friendship with me. It's the reason she set up the organization I represent."

"Very interesting," Dr. Snow said. "I like the idea that..."

She noticed Ernie was looking a bit dazed. His vision had blurred and he didn't know quite what to do.

"Could I..." he said, "...trouble you..."

Dr. Snow was very concerned and got up out of her chair, prepared to call for some kind of help.

"...water," Ernie said. "Just some water."

He was seeing Dr. Snow's future right before his eyes as she stood in the same room with him. He was trying to ignore the vision, focusing on each word as he spoke it.

She left the room and returned with a bottle of water. Ernie was standing now.

"I apologize," he said, taking the water. "I'll be fine."

He took a drink, mostly for Dr. Snow's benefit.

"Are you sure you're OK?" she asked.

"This happens to me sometimes -- I feel a little woozy. It's why I don't drive," he said, semi-truthfully.

"Well, I'm glad you're OK," she said. "Would you prefer to continue another time?"

"No, really," Ernie insisted. "I'm fine now. I'll be just fine."

And he would be, he thought, as long as nobody else showed up.

"Well, I was about to say," Dr. Snow said, "I like the idea of having seniors interacting with the children. We have an active senior community here in town and a lot of talent we could draw from."

"Good," Ernie replied.

"I wish my colleagues had been able to be here. Do you have anything written down that I could share with them?" she asked.

Ernie handed her a folder. The paper he had written for this occasion would do a better job of explaining everything, he thought.

The meeting ended, and Ernie was relieved. Dr. Snow had been very polite, but it had been a very strange meeting, and he returned home a little unsure of where things stood.

A few days later, Ernie received an e-mail from Dr. Snow. She had circulated his proposal to her colleagues and they were very interested in putting together a pilot program. They welcomed his participation at every stage.

"I've also taken the liberty of bringing our local senior citizens organization on board," her e-mail said. "They are very interested in this project."

"Congratulations," Kim said when Ernie told her the news.

"Let's not pop any Champagne corks yet," he told her. Not until it's all for real.

They set up an electronic bulletin board and for weeks brainstormed and exchanged ideas about the details of the program. Ernie's contributions were highly valued and he was thrilled that he could make them from a distance.

A direct mail campaign was initiated, asking senior citizens to volunteer as "Educational Ambassadors." There were also posters at the senior citizens centers asking people to sign up. At the rate they were going, there might have to be a waiting list, Ernie calculated.

"It's a nice problem to have," he wrote on the bulletin board. "But let's try and find a position for every volunteer."

The project still required the approval of the local school board. The plan was on the agenda to be proposed formally at their December meeting.

"We'd like you to be there," Dr. Snow told Ernie over the phone. "This has been a real team effort and we'd love for the entire team to be there when the plan has been approved."

"I appreciate that," Ernie replied. "I really do."

He paused for a minute and decided it was time to make up some kind of excuse. It was just a little white lie, wasn't it? And it was important, not just for himself, he felt, but for the success of the entire project. How would it look for him to be zoning out during the school board meeting?

"Do you remember that day we met," Ernie said, "when I had that attack in the conference room,"

"Yes, of course," Dr. Snow replied.

"Well, I think it's some kind of anxiety thing," Ernie told her. "The medication really disagrees with me, so for the most part I try and avoid any kind of stressful situation. Well that day, I guess, was kind of stressful."

"I see," she said.

"I hope you understand," he explained. "I wish I could be there, but I don't think it's such a good idea."

"I understand perfectly," she said. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"I should have said something sooner," he told her.

It was settled. Ernie could stay home and the meeting would go on without him.

"I hated lying about this," he told Kim. "But I didn't know what else to do."

"Ernie, you did the right thing," she reassured him. "There's nothing you can do about this... about your dreams, and you are just trying to avoid an awkward situation for everybody."

It's hard to keep secrets from the school board, even in a small city. Not that it was a secret, really. It just might have been nice to get through the formal presentation, Phoebe thought. One of the first volunteers to sign up was friends with someone who was playing bridge with the mother of one of the school board members, it turned out. They already knew all about the project and they loved the idea. Dr. Shaw was free to iron out the details, and had the green light to set up a pilot program.

Dr. Shaw was just as excited to call Ernie after the meeting as he was when the phone rang.

"We're on," she told him.

Kim was already waiting with the Champagne.

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