Free She Felt No Pain by Lou Allin Page A

Under “Massage”, she saw several entries, all in Sooke except for Serenity Cottage in Fossil Bay. Marilyn offered a plain deep-tissue Swedish massage along with rebalancing, whatever that was. No exotic extras like heated rocks, ocean water droplets or detoxification via the feet. Norman would accept a therapeutic service without the pampering frills women enjoyed. He could think of it as a sports thing.
    “Of course I can take your father, “ Marilyn said. “I have two clients this afternoon, but I always leave room for emergencies. It’s hard to turn away a soul in pain. Is an hour from now too soon?”
    Holly sighed with relief. “It’ll probably take us that long to get downstairs to the car, but we’ll make it.”
    “Sounds like a muscle strain. They’re severe, but they usually respond to heat and cold and go away in a few days. And watch yourself moving him. Even a young person can lift the wrong way.”
    “You’re an angel. You can’t imagine. My dad is beside himself.”
    “Oh my dear, but I can imagine. I see it every day. That’s why I’m in this profession.”
    Holly returned upstairs. “Want me to help you dress?” She thought again of his bell bottoms and Nehru jackets. How far was he going to take this? She sympathized with her mother about the banalities of his career.
    “Just my bathrobe will do over the pajamas. I’m not standing on ceremony in this crisis.” She helped him into the paisley robe and left him sockless in his shearling slippers as requested.
    Having forded the stairs on his hands and knees, Norman allowed himself to be loaded into his toy car, which was higher and more open to entry than the low-profile Prelude. The short kilometres in silence to Fossil Bay felt like eternity. Holly was beginning to experience the stress of living with someone unwell. She couldn’t imagine what Marilyn had been through.
    On the corner of Sea Breeze Avenue stood the quaint ivy-covered brick cottage that Holly had passed many times without note. Across the street, oceanside with an acre or two, it might have commanded a million, but its modest lot was shielded from the noisy road by a neatly trimmed cedar hedge. Holly pulled into the driveway beside the carved wooden sign reading “Serenity”. She admired the giant red and yellow rhodos and inhaled the sweet perfume of matching white and purple lilacs. A perennial garden with ivied arches and pergola surrounded the house English style, delphs nodding acquaintance with daisies and wild pink foxgloves. As Holly turned off the motor, Marilyn came from the house, arms spread wide in welcome, a fat cream cat swirling at her feet like an angora fog. Its luminous golden eyes surveyed the inferior species. “Come, come, you poor man. Relief is on the way. You have my solemn word.” Introductions were unnecessary. The place felt like home.
    “Prince Chunk, clear the path.” Marilyn swept the cat aside with a gentle foot movement, and the animal disappeared under a hydrangea bush, flashing its tail in haughty challenge.
    The women guided Norman up a wheelchair-accessible ramp into the front room, which appeared to be the treatment area. Certificates lined the walls, and Holly gave them a quick scan. British, Canadian, even Californian. A bookcase held a collection of medical texts, including cranial facial neurology and spinal therapies. The typical depiction of a human muscle system stood beside a skeletal diagram of stress points. The air currents traced the healing scent of lavender from a fresh bouquet in a simple Japanese vase.
    “Would you like music? It relaxes some people and helps with the drone of traffic,” Marilyn said as Norman disrobed behind a lacquered ornamental screen. She and Holly exchanged womanly glances at his continued groans. “Do you have...anything from the Seventies?” Holly asked with an eye roll indicating that it wasn’t her choice.
    A CD collection in front of her, Marilyn turned slowly. “Wouldn’t he