Page 103 of Bewitch

I march right up to them. Eliza’s only taken a few steps from him, but she halts when she spies me. I yank the umbrella out of her hands and shove it back to Carl.

“Go ahead to class, Eliza,” I say.

She hurries off.

The janitor stares at me. He’s made no move to take the umbrella back.

“She doesn’t want anything from you,” I say firmly.

“She accepted—”

“She just wanted you to leave her alone. She doesn’t appreciate the untoward attention you give her.”

“I don’t understand,” he protests. “I’ve been nothing but nice—”

“You need to leave her alone,” I say firmly. “Keep your hands and your eyes—”

“My hands?” he protests. “I’ve never touched her.”

I just glare at him.

“I don’t even know who you are, but you must be a good friend of hers. That’s good. Good. A young lady like that needs friends who will stick up for them, only… Only you have to see.” He shakes his head sadly.

All around us, the hallway has cleared out. Classes have started, but I just stand there and stare him down.

“She reminds me of my granddaughter,” Carl finally mutters. “She died summer before last. She got sick.” He taps his chest. “Was in the hospital. Pneumonia real bad. It stole her breath away and made her heart stop. They brought her back once, but the second… She looked just like Eliza, my Lola. Same hair and everything. I just… You can catch pneumonia from being wet, can’t you? I just don’t want her to get sick and die too.”

I say nothing.

“Is that so very wrong of me?” he demands. “I’m just… I lost someone I loved, and now, there’s a student who comes here who looks just like her, and I want to help her as best as I can.”

“By dropping trash right next to her and having her pick it up so you can look down her shirt?”

“Eliza told you I did what? No, I never dropped—”

“That’s right,” I say, tapping a finger to my cheek. “That was a different girl.”

Carl looks down at my feet. “I’m doing the best that I can,” he says. “I’m a veteran, and getting a job hasn’t always been easy. My hands shake at times, which can make gripping hard, and I was in a car accident almost a decade ago that makes bending difficult. I might’ve asked a girl for help, but you can be sure I’ve asked men to help too.”

I grunt. “Girls,” he says, but then he’ll say “Men” and not “boys.”

“I need this job,” he says desperately. “I’ve done nothing wrong. Why are you having the girls all talk about me? What is it that you want? To bring me down? I’ve been brought down low before. Some of the lowest points in my life was when people I cared about died—in the war, back here… Lola was my everything. Her parents died in a car crash, and I was her only living relative. I took her in and raised her the best that I could. She wanted to attend here, did you know that?”

I say nothing. How could I have known that?

“Which is why working here brings me so much joy. She was supposed to come here, but at least I’m here. In her place, I guess. It’s not right. I should’ve been the one to die, not her, but I…”

“Was this her umbrella too?” I ask, not believing that. Not for one second.

“No. It’s mine. We only had the one. On the day she was sick, my car broke down. She had to walk to school, high school, and I had to walk to work. She was always such a sweet girl, and my walk was a lot longer than hers, so she insisted I take the only umbrella we had. Maybe it’s magic. It spared me. I didn’t sick, not like she did. She…” He lowers his head, his shoulders hunched, and he reminds me of a turtle trying to retreat into its shell. “I listened to her, and I took the umbrella, and I lived, and she died. I wanted Eliza to have it because maybe… There has to be a reason why I survived so much when so many around me have all died. My friends in the military… Lola’s parents… Lola herself…”

I keep holding out the umbrella for him to take back. He’s not even looking at it or at the ground anymore either. He’s shut his eyes as he stands there, almost swaying.

“The first time I saw Eliza, I thought I done did see a host. I thought it was Lola returned to me. I stared at her because I couldn’t believe it. A splitting image of her. I was in shocked. Yes, I stared! It was like my Lola came back to me.”

I’m not sure what to say to any of this. If he hadn’t been staring at other girls, too, this might be easier to believe.

“Here.” He yanks on his pocket and removes his wallet. Form inside, he takes out a photo. “There. That is my Lola. Doesn’t she look exactly like Eliza?”

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