SHORT STORY : SECOND PLACE

Marilynn Russell

“ Thanks for joining our Zoom class of Gentle Chair Yoga .”

Helen was grateful to be offered this little pandemic respite of movement and companionship . How ironic : she was an Irish Catholic , participating in an eastern mystical practice , taught by a recent immigrant from Hong Kong , organized by the Jewish Community Centre . Very Canadian and harmonious !

Helen had exercised with many of these classmates prior to the pandemic , at aquacize or Zumba Gold . The JCC was such an accepting environment — no one made to feel unathletic . It was intriguing to see into the homes of her classmates , so ordered and uncluttered . Helen ’ s daughter helped create her Zoom Room , pushing piles of junk off-screen , positioning mess out of camera angle . Do all participants have such secrets ?

“ Breathe in … Breathe out . Shrug your shoulders .”

Helen hadn ’ t used this room much since Joe died . Once their family dining room , it was now her home office . Around Helen hung pictures chronicling her life .

“ Raise your right hand — unless you are having shoulder problems . Mavis , keep your spine straight . Excellent , Brenda . Your range of motion is improving .”

Helen ’ s mind relaxed into the instructor ’ s hypnotic directions .

“ Place the right hand on the left knee . Twist to look over your left shoulder . Count to ten .”

Helen turned to see her wedding picture , taken forty-five years ago . A whirlwind engagement . Joe was a good man — a fine provider . He never questioned or judged her . “ Release . Now over your right shoulder .” A photo of her dear mother . Mother ’ s wisdom came back — Least said , soonest mended ; Go along , to get along ; Anything for a quiet life . Harmony : the watchword .

“ Release . Face forward . Tilt your head to the right . Just your eyes — look up .”

Helen ’ s gaze rested on her eldest son ’ s graduation picture . A beautiful boy , so loving , eager to please .

“ Myrtle , lift your eyes , not your chin . Tilt the other way , look up .”

A family portrait . Her eldest son , taller and darker than the others , everyone smiling , except Joe . Mom , her son had asked , why is he so hard on me ? Nothing I do is good enough . Helen responded that he was the oldest , fathers always expect more of their firstborn . Her son stopped asking questions then , maybe that answer satisfied , maybe he was being kind to his mother who so wanted to escape this line of inquiry . Everyone will get along if they just push down their emotions and doubts .

“ Release . Let ’ s stand . Turn right , arms stretched , front leg bent . Sam , straighten that back knee .”

Her father ’ s stern photo . Better he doesn ’ t know , Mother had said , marry Joe , you ’ ve been with him for a while . No scene , everyone happy ! “ Release . Turn left .” Their mountain paintings . Banff — that ’ s where it had happened . They were both summer students , she from Calgary , he from Quebec , with the kindest eyes , the sunniest smile . What would have happened if she had stood up to her father ?

“ Let ’ s sit . Inhale … exhale . Tilt head back . Forward .”

Irene had just joined the class , probably running late from her genealogy club on another Zoom call . Irene had been encouraging Helen to join that club , as Irene had discovered juicy info about her ancestors . Next month is our black sheep meeting , Irene had said , where we talk about that fascinating family story — the prisoner , the embezzler , the

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