One day in late May shortly after Victoria Day, a pick-up truck bearing California plates was spotted in the bungalow’s driveway. Its owner was a scruffy, bearded young man accompanied by a loud young woman and their fierce black dog. The new occupants set to work clearing the house of its contents with a vengeance, carting out superannuated furniture to the kerb, where it was pawed over by bargain hunters and scrap-metal merchants before being hauled away. The couple for their part eyed their new neighbours with suspicion, and failed to return friendly waves. The dog kept all away from the front door. A ‘For Sale’ sign appeared briefly on the lawn, but was quickly removed, the result of a change of heart. They had apparently decided to renovate in a ‘hot’ market, sell quickly, and move on.
On a sweltering Sunday afternoon in mid-August, the bearded young man sat bare-chested on the stoop of the bungalow drinking beer after beer from a metal cooler beside him. He was sweating profusely, presumably after vigorous physical activity within the house, which then lacked air conditioning. In the drowsy somnolence, an antique Cadillac turned the corner of the quiet street and drew up at the driveway. An elegant middle-aged woman emerged from the front passenger seat.
“Excuse me,” she said, in a vaguely foreign accent, “I am Baroness von Steinmetz. I am visiting friends. I have just come from Mass. I notice the aptness of a statue of Our Lady on the lawn of this house on the very day of her Dormition and Assumption.” She was waiting for a response, but response came there none. The young man glared at her with evident incomprehension, beer bottle raised half-way to his open mouth. Suddenly, from under the truck in the carport, the black dog rushed at her in a frenzy of barking, but instead of backing away, she fixed the animal with an icy stare and fired a barrage of scolding words at it in what might have been German or Polish, or Mongolian for aught the young man knew. The dog stopped in its tracks, and tail between its legs, retreated to the safety of the carport from which it had emerged. The young man was dumbfounded. The baroness, if that is what she was, continued undeterred. “Perhaps you are not aware that today is August 15th. Our Lady was assumed into heaven on this very day.”
“Izzat so?”
“Yes. It is auspicious! Great are the mercies that flow from her open arms, and wise indeed are your employers for having placed her there. They may be assured of her protection and blessing. You may tell them that. Protection and blessing. Grace,” she added, pointing at the statue, “lies there.” And, gathering her skirt in both hands, she nodded to the young man, clambered back into the car, and was whisked away.