The Second Time Around

In the middle of the night, Ella awoke with a start, frightened to death. Hailstones pounded on the shutters, threatening to smash them to pieces, and a loose pane in the hallway made the apartment door whistle and creak and moan like a pack of jackals. The wind sounded as fierce as Ashmodai, king of the demons. The eight-story building seemed to rock back and forth, as if at any moment it would be torn off its foundation and carried out to sea. In a daze, she struggled to get up from the divan and knocked the screen onto her head.

Good God, what was happening? Down on her knees, she grabbed at the table and pulled herself up. She could die of fright right here on the floor and no one would even know. The electricity was out, possibly in the whole neighborhood. She couldn’t see a thing.

For a moment she lost her bearings, then took herself in hand. She was no fragile flower, had lived a long life, and knew how to take care of herself. She felt her way into the kitchen, found matches next to the stove, lit two candles and breathed a little easier. She filled two glasses with water and placed them in the windows, as her mother would have done. It might not make the hail stop, but it helped. No longer alone in the apartment, she had her mother with her now, and that was a comfort.

It was decades since her mother had died. Ella had long...