Amazing Grace (10 page)

If this is all they do, it's still the best Christmas I ever had.

After breakfast we go back in front of the fire. The aunts hand me my presents to open. They look more excited than I am. I receive a pair of handmade mitts, a new nightgown, two books, scented bubble bath, and a pair of earrings—pearls, of course.

I'm overcome. “Thank you. I don't deserve this.”

Aunt Pearl gets annoyed. “Don't be so foolish. I'll have no more of that kind of talk. You deserve as much happiness as anyone else. Remember that. You're not a victim.”

Aunt Mae then gives Aunt Pearl a new Mixmaster and a cookbook. Pearl gives her sister perfume, stockings, and a pretty sweater. Both are equally happy with their gifts.

They make a move to get the turkey in the oven, but I call them back.

“I wrote a poem.”

“Did you, dear? That's nice.” The aunts continue into the kitchen.

“For you guys.”

They both turn at the same time and come back to the couch.

“I hope you like it.”

The Kid

When you have no home, and no one loves you, life is dark and bleak.

Then Aunties come and hold your hand and make you want to speak.

They listen to your stories, they give you food to eat.

They get upset and cross with you, which means you're not so weak.

They want a better life for you and this is what they seek.

I wouldn't be the girl I am, without Aunt Mae and Pearl,

So thank you for your loving arms, a place to rest and curl.

They both rise from the sofa and disappear upstairs. I think that means they liked it.

While I sit and eat breakfast one morning in the new year, the aunts come in together and try to be nonchalant as they join me. It's not working.

“So,” says Aunt Pearl. “Any plans this weekend?”

“No.”

Aunt Mae can't contain herself. She shakes the car keys at me. “Wanna learn how to drive?”

This is how I end up slipping and sliding over snowy roads in rural Cape Breton, with a cheerleader in the back seat and a sergeant-major in the front.

“You're coming to a turn! Slow down!”

“I am slowing down!”

“Not enough!”

I brake a little too quickly and fishtail a bit, but we manage to navigate the turn.

“Well done!” squeaks Aunt Mae. “You'll be driving to Sydney in no time.”

“We have to get to Baddeck first!” Aunt Pearl hollers. “Watch out! There's a gravel truck coming! Don't be nervous! Don't look at him! Keep your eyes on the road! Slowly release the gas! No! You're too far over! Watch the ditch!”

The gravel truck roars past us.

“Well done!”

“My nerves.”

You should always learn to drive in the worst conditions possible, because then you're not afraid of anything. The three of us drive everywhere that winter. Whenever I'm not in school I'm ferrying them around to their friends' houses, the grocery store, the gas station, to church, and finally to take my driving test in Sydney.

They wave as I go into the room to write the test and then wave when I go out with the driving instructor. They stand when I get back, clutching their purses in front of them. I give them a thumbs-up. We go to K-Mart to celebrate.

Later that night, Aunt Pearl asks me to come into her bedroom. This is an unexpected privilege. I sit on her bed as she sits on the stool of her makeup table. Not that she has any makeup; just powder, scent, and her mother-of-pearl brush and comb set. She does have one lipstick for special occasions, unlike Aunt Mae, who has dozens.

She looks at me in the mirror. “I bought you something.” She reaches into one of the dresser drawers by her side and hands me a rectangular box. Inside are a pair of leather gloves.

“Everyone needs gloves to drive a car. It's safer.”

I don't tell her that I'll never, in a million years, drive the car with those gloves on. And the next time I'm behind the wheel, I wear them. Why is anyone's guess. I just pray none of my friends see me.

I'm first in my class that year. And the next. At my high school graduation, I see the two of them in the audience, Aunt Mae beaming as she gives me little waves, Aunt Pearl with her hands in her lap. We go out for dinner that night and Aunt Pearl says I can order lobster if I want to, but I choose a cheeseburger. We all have chocolate cake for dessert.

One of our neighbours lets me borrow his lawnmower and I spend about a week cleaning up the grass that threatens to drown us around the house, but I leave the field alone because the buttercups, daisies, and Indian paintbrush look so lovely swaying in the wind.

Aunt Mae likes to sit outside and sketch from time to time. She shows me a drawing she did while I was working. It really does look like me, with my auburn hair pulled into a messy knot at the back of my head. I didn't realize I was so pretty. And I'm smiling, which is almost more shocking. I tuck the picture into the mirror over my dresser so I can look at it sometimes. That's when I realize I have no pictures of myself. If I die tomorrow, there's no evidence that I lived.

At dinner that night, we're lazy and have tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. Aunt Mae pours us tea so we can dunk our gingersnaps.

“Remember you asked me what I'd like for a graduation present?”

They nod.

“I'd like a camera.”

“That's a great idea,” Aunt Pearl says. “Clever girl.”

By midsummer I have about a thousand snapshots of this house, Lulu the cat, the field, the lake, the islands, my rock, and the kids I hang out with sometimes, but my favourite ones are of Aunt Mae and Aunt Pearl. At first I have to chase them around, and Aunt Pearl gets mad if I catch her with her slip on, or her hair in curlers. Aunt Mae only ever has one pose: she throws her arms over her head and pretends she's a movie star. “I'm Marilyn Monroe!”

That camera is my favourite thing in the world. All of my allowance that the aunts insist I take goes into buying and developing film.

Late one night, Aunt Mae's already gone to bed and I'm at the kitchen table putting my pictures in albums. Aunt Pearl comes in for her nightly cup of hot water, but instead of taking it upstairs she sits at the table with me.

“What was your mother like?”

I don't know what to say.

“You don't have to be polite. It's between you and me.”

“She was what you said, hippy-dippy. I wanted to protect her.”

Aunt Pearl shakes her head. “That's a terrible burden for a child.”

“Ave Maria helped me.”

“Was Maria good to you?”

“Oh yes, but she worried a lot.”

“How did Trixie get taken in by this psychopath?”

“Maybe she was lonely.”

“More like Trixie didn't like rules. She completely cut her mother off, and it broke Rose's heart.”

“What was my grandmother like?”

“Your Aunt Mae, times two.”

“Oh.”

“Thank the Lord I'm exactly like my father, otherwise my sisters would've starved. You can't live on rainbows and marshmallows.”

I smile at her and she smiles back.

“Aunt Pearl, how did you become a bank manager?”

“I started as a teller. Just goes to show what happens when you work hard.” She sips her hot water. “Now that you're finished high school, what would you like to do? Any ideas?”

“Find my mother and my sister.”

It's the first weekend in September, when I'm in a rush to go to an afternoon movie with some girlfriends. The aunties want me to take them for groceries first. I'm already late and a little pissed off, if the truth be told. The two of them are nattering about coupons and whether the new cashier added them up correctly. They pass the receipt to each other between the front and back seat.

I'm about to yell, “Does it really matter?” when Devon Hibbs comes screaming up behind our car and passes me on a double line. There's a car coming towards us, so he veers back in front of me, clipping my front end. The jolt takes the wheel out of my hand momentarily, and before I can recover, we're in the ditch.

It happens so fast I'm not sure I even believe where we are, but I do see that ass-hole's taillights disappear over the hill. The other car stops and a couple of men run over to us.

“Are you guys all right?” I taste blood on my tongue.

Aunt Mae groans a bit from the back seat. “What happened? Ouch, my neck.”

I reach over to Aunt Pearl. She's dazed but coming around. “I think I hurt my arm.”

One of the men opens my door. “Are you all right, Miss Pearl? Miss Mae?”

“Hello, Joe,” they say in unison.

“This must be your great-niece. Pleased to meet you. Let me help you out.”

So now I'm on best terms with Joe MacPherson and his brother Burt. Their friend Hank from Christmas Island happens by, so we put the ladies in his car and Joe and Burt pull my car out of the ditch. They insist on driving it to a garage to get checked out. In the meantime Hank takes us to outpatients at the hospital to make sure we're all right.

I only need a few stitches in my lip, and Aunt Mae has some whiplash, but poor Aunt Pearl has broken her arm. Wait till I get my hands around Devon's neck. That bastard is going down.

But before we go home, Aunt Pearl has a fainting spell and the doctor wants to keep her overnight. This throws Aunt Mae in a tizzy and now she won't leave. Joe and Burt deliver our car back to the hospital, bless their hearts. They tell me I need a new bumper but otherwise it's good to go.

Aunt Mae eventually nods off in the chair by Aunt Pearl's bed. I can't sleep. I'm sure I'm overreacting, but when I look at Aunt Pearl's face, I don't think she looks well.

The doctor comes in the next morning and he seems concerned. He motions me out to the hall.

“I'm going to keep your aunt in for another day or so. Just to be careful.”

“Something's wrong. I know it.”

“Any injury or shock to the system with the elderly has to be monitored and we're doing that. Why don't you take Mae home and you can visit with her later today. She needs to rest.”

So that's what I do, with Aunt Mae resisting the entire time. I call their friend Erna and ask if she can come and sit with Aunt Mae while I go back to the hospital. Erna's over about fifteen minutes later with a pan of squares and a hot water bottle.

I hold Aunt Pearl's hand while she sleeps, and tuck the blankets around her. I must have drifted off for a minute because she has to squeeze my hand to get me to open my eyes. I jump off the chair.

“Hi, how are you feeling?” I reach for a soft cloth and gently rub her forehead.

She stares at me, her thin, wrinkled face ageing before my eyes.

“What's wrong, Aunt Pearl? Your arm is going to get better. I'll take care of everything.”

“Stop talking. Now listen to me. Mae and I had our wills done up recently—”

“Don't talk like that!”

She gives me a look, and I stop.

“We're leaving you the house. I expect you to look after Mae when I'm gone. I have a goodly sum of money that will help you to do that. Anything left over, I want you to take and use for your education. I always wanted to go to university, but my sisters needed me and I've had a good life. Although I do regret never seeing a Broadway show. Regardless, it's a miracle that you came back to us, and I'm forever grateful to God for that.”

My hands are shaking. “Please don't die on me.”

“Knowing you'll be here for Mae gives me peace of mind.”

“But you're not sick! You just broke your arm!”

“I have breast cancer. I've had it for a while, but I didn't want to upset Mae. Our mother died of it and it terrifies her. The doctor knows, I asked him not to say anything.”

“Oh no. Oh no.”

She squeezes my hand again. “You'll be fine. You have survived more in your young life than a body should have to. You are Amazing Grace, don't forget.”

She dies three days later.

The first thing I do is drive to the abandoned quarry, where I know Devon and his deadbeat friends are hanging out, and race the car right up to him. He has to jump out of the way.

“Whoa! What the fuck is your problem?” he says as I get out of the car.

I march up to him and punch him in the face. He's so shocked, I punch him again and knock his front tooth out. Then I jump on him and kick the crap out of him, his idiot friends laughing to kill themselves. He's still on the ground when I point at him. “You are a piece of shit. And if you ever come near me or my family again, I'll kill you. Do you hear me? I'll kill you, because I have nothing to lose. Do you understand?”

He gives me a nod. When I get back in the car I spin my wheels and spray dirt and gravel all over the bastard.

Aunt Mae is never the same after that. I look after her as best I can. She's like a little girl at first, always wanting to be near me. I bathe her and wash her hair. She loves it when I rub cream on her hands and asks me to read to her at night by the fire.

While the winds howls outside and the fire crackles, we slip into the world of L. M. Montgomery.

“I swear if Matthew Cuthbert was alive and well, I'd marry him,” she says.

About two years pass before her senility creeps up behind us and robs her of her cheery self. She starts a fire in the kitchen one morning, and it's only luck that I manage to control it before it gets out of hand. But the worst is the night she gets lost on me.

My routine is to check on her before I go to bed, but she isn't in her room. Panic rises up in my throat as I holler her name over and over. She's not in the house, and now I see the back door open. It's early spring and the air is damp and cold. She's outside in her nightie and slippers.

The first thing I do is call the neighbours, even though it's late. Many cars speed down our driveway and over twenty people start looking in the dark with me, all of us carrying flashlights and calling her name. What if she goes down to the lake? I'm responsible for her safety. I'm such an idiot.