Awake and Dreaming (20 page)

Theo wished she'd go back to
her
—to Cecily's idea about her.

“I'm digressing, aren't I? As I was saying, watching you gave me the clue to my story. I thought that you needed a proper family. There's a family that I've watched a lot. You know them. They live in my house.”

“The Kaldors!”

“Yes. John and Anna and Lisbeth and Ben. I've enjoyed observing their antics and listening to their conversations over the years—they often play in here. I've always been drawn to large, happy families, since my own was neither. So I decided you were probably fantasizing about being in such a family—and then you found one!”

Theo couldn't speak. She listened tensely, half-guessing what Cecily would say next.

“In my story you would meet the Kaldors on the ferry and play with them. I knew the sorts of things they did, since they were once on the ferry when I was. Then you'd make a wish on the new moon and
be
in the family. While you were there you'd be healed. It was going to be a very
satisfying
story. And I'd set it here—in my childhood home and neighbourhood.”

The excitement left Cecily's face. “The trouble is, I couldn't work out the dynamics in my head. It was easy to imagine all the things you'd do while you lived with them—how they'd buy you clothes, how secure and loved you would become. But there were so many flaws. The transition to the family was too easy. It wasn't believable that you'd just wish for something and get it. Your time there was
too
happy. There wasn't enough conflict,
although I tried to create some in an incident when you got into trouble for going downtown. And I couldn't figure out what happened to your mother, or how—or if—you'd go back to her.”

Cecily gazed at the sea. “It was the story I'd wanted to write all my life. You seemed so much like me as a child. I recognized your
yearning
so much.”

When she turned around, her expression was despairing. “But it was just an idea! It was only in my head. It will never be a real book. I could have worked it out on paper. It would have changed a lot if I'd been able to write it down. But of course I can never do that.”

Theo had trouble breathing. “Cecily …” she croaked. She stood up and faced her. “Your idea
did
work. I did go into the family.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Everything happened just like you said! I was always thinking about families, ones with four children and a mother and father. And I met the Kaldors on the ferry and they were perfect—exactly what I wanted!”

Cecily looked astonished. “They were on the ferry? You talked to them?”

“Yes! I wished I could live with them and I did! I belonged to their family until Easter. It was wonderful. The most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me! But then I started not to be there … to sort of fade … and then I was back on the ferry with Rae.”

“Well, I'll be … that's incredible, Theo! It's hard to believe.”

It was hard to believe she was standing in the cemetery talking to a ghost, too, thought Theo.

“But how did it happen?” she asked.

“I don't know. There's no point in trying to explain these things,” Cecily said slowly. “I think your time with the Kaldors must have been a combination of both of our fantasies—mine and yours.”

“It
did
seem weird that I just wished to be there, and that they accepted me so easily. I couldn't decide if it was a dream or magic,” said Theo.

Cecily mused on this. “I think it was both. An idea is like a dream—a dream of what could be. Your fantasy of being in a family was a dream—a wish, a daydream. And stories
are
magic. I'm so glad it happened, Theo, that you really belonged to such a special family for a while.”

“But I couldn't
stay
!” burst out Theo. That seemed Cecily's fault.

“No … You faded away just as my idea faded away—when I couldn't solve the main problem of the story, that your time in the family was too perfect. Real life isn't perfect, and good fiction has to
seem
like real life.”

“I liked it being perfect!” protested Theo.

“But you found the Kaldors again, didn't you?”

“Yes, but it's not the same! They aren't perfect any more and I don't belong to them—I'm just their friend, not their sister.”

“Friends are very valuable,” said Cecily. “Like gold. I never had many—you're lucky. I was so surprised to see you with those four children, Theo. To see
you
again! I
watched you playing here with them and I saw you looking out of the window of their house last week.”

“I saw you, too,” whispered Theo. “Did you cover me up?”

“Yes,” said Cecily gently. “I don't usually go upstairs, but I couldn't resist getting a longer look at you. Then I wished you could read my books, so I put one in the living-room.”

They exchanged smiles. But then Theo glanced at the plot and shivered as she tried to reconcile Cecily being buried there and Cecily sitting across from her.

“Are there other ghosts here?” she asked in a wavery voice.

“I haven't seen any. It's a myth that cemeteries are full of ghosts. If people linger on after they die, they linger in the places that meant the most to them. But this
was
my place. I came here every day of my life. At the end of it, it soothed me to know I'd be buried here.”

She stood up and beckoned Theo over to her grave. “Do you like my inscription? I left instructions for it in my will. An open book … that's all that will save us, I think.”

Sometimes Cecily was hard to understand. “Save who—from what?” asked Theo.

“I think an open book symbolizes imagination. Only imagination will save people from their narrow, cramped expectations of life—like those my parents had.” She chuckled. “But enough of my philosophizing. When you've done nothing but
think
for forty years you get pretty pedantic.”

They stood there in silence, Theo as close to Cecily as she dared. Something told her it wouldn't be right to touch her.

Beyond the plot brilliant yellow broom tumbled down the bank. The warming sun drew out its bitter odour. “I should go back,” said Theo. “They'll wonder where I am.”

“I'll come part of the way with you,” said Cecily. She glided beside Theo as far as the entrance, her feet making no sound on the pavement. Theo's shadow stretched in front of her in the slanting morning light—but Cecily had no shadow.

Theo turned at the hedge. “Will I see you again?”

“I don't know,” said Cecily. “I hope so. Perhaps you will if you really need to.” She smiled sadly. “I'm not sure how long I'll be here now, Theo. I found the story I was looking for—and I'm so amazed and delighted that it touched you. Now there's only one more thing I need to find.” She looked intently at Theo. “It's been extremely pleasant talking to you, dear child. Thank you for listening. Go on now, before the Kaldors get up.”

“Goodbye,” whispered Theo. She ran across the street, then she turned around to wave. But Cecily had gone.

20

T
heo sat in a daze at breakfast. She had got back just in time to slip into bed before Ben wandered in and ordered someone to give him some cereal.

Had the incredible time she'd just spent been a dream? Had Cecily been a dream? Theo could still hear the angular woman's musical voice and see her long hands emphasize her words as she talked. She knew she'd been real.

Well, not
real
… a ghost. A ghost writer! Theo told herself gleefully.

She yawned for the rest of the day, glad that Dan took them to a movie and she didn't have to talk much. She had no idea what the movie was about. She went over and over Cecily's conversation, trying to remember every word.

When she said goodbye after dinner, she surprised the family by giving each of them a hug. The Kaldors seemed like characters that Cecily had created. Of course they were real—more real now than they had been in that magic time. But if it wasn't for Cecily, Theo would never have met them.

Late that night the apartment buzzer wakened Theo. She heard Sharon struggle out of bed to answer it. “Who is it? Oh! Come right up!”

The light went on in the living-room. Theo floated in
and out of sleep as the door opened and someone came in. “You're soaked!” she heard Sharon say. There were whispers and shushes and quick footsteps. Theo sat up as Sharon began to close her door. “I'm awake.”

“You are? Then you may as well get up. It's your mother.”

“Hi, kid,” said Rae. She was rubbing her hair with a towel. Her bare feet were red; sopping socks were heaped beside them. Her backpack and a battered suitcase stood by the door.

“I'll make some cocoa,” said Sharon. She began heating up milk while Theo continued to stand and stare at her mother. When Rae babbled about how hard it was raining, Theo sat down beside her aunt, as far away from Rae as she could get.

“I'm glad you've finally come to visit, Mary Rae,” said Sharon, her voice chilly. “We haven't heard from you for so long.”

Rae looked at them, her wet curls making her head look small. “I've left Cal,” she said bluntly. “I had nowhere to live so I quit my job and came here.”

Sharon looked shaken. “Oh … but the last ferry gets in at 10:30. Where have you been all this time?”

“I wasn't sure you'd want me. So I sat in a restaurant on Douglas Street until it closed, then I walked over. Can I stay for a while?”

Some of Sharon's coldness melted. “You shouldn't wander around alone at this time of night—it's dangerous! Of course you can stay.”

Rae fumbled with her cigarette package. “I'm not living with that
pig
any more. I can't
believe
I ever saw anything in him.”

Sharon glanced at Theo. “We can talk about it later. You go back to bed, Theo. I'll get out the foamie.” Her voice was exhausted.

Theo tried to listen to Rae and Sharon through the closed door, but all she could hear was the roll of foam being dragged out of the cupboard, then silence.

Rae
. How long was she going to stay? Would she make Theo go back to Vancouver with her? Angry tears began to slip down Theo's face. Just as she'd found the Kaldors—just as she'd found
Cecily
—her mother had to come along and spoil everything.

C
AL HAD STARTED DRINKING
too much; that was all Theo knew. Rae would have told her more, but Sharon stopped her every time she tried. “That's not suitable for a child to hear,” she said. Theo was grateful; she didn't want to hear more. She shut her ears to the long whispered conversations Rae and Sharon had after she was in bed.

The only thing she wanted to know was how long Rae was going to stay. Every day Theo and Sharon arrived home to find the apartment filled with smoke and Rae sprawled in front of the TV. They waited tensely for her to tell them her plans. Sharon acted more and more irritated with her sister. She no longer tried to please her, as she had when Rae had first brought Theo here.

On Friday they were sitting on the couch after dinner when Sharon stood up and switched off the TV. “What are you going to
do,
Mary Rae? You can't stay here forever. This apartment is too small for three people.”

Rae looked apologetic. “I know, I know. Just give me a bit more time.”

“Do you want to talk to a counsellor? Karen at work knows someone who—”

Rae took out a cigarette. “I'll figure this out on my own, okay?”

Sharon took a deep breath. “You don't seem to be figuring anything out! All you do is watch TV and smoke.
I've
been figuring some things out, Mary Rae. From now on I want you to only smoke on the balcony. It's not good for Theo to breathe secondhand smoke. And while you're here I think you should pick her up at school every day. It would save me the cost of after-school day care.” Her voice became even shriller. “And you could contribute something for food. You must have
some
money. Don't you realize I've been supporting your child all this time?”

She sat down beside Theo and gave her a hug. “It's not that I haven't enjoyed it. I've come to love Theo very much. But you said you'd send money and you haven't once! I've had to use my savings, and they're almost gone!”

Rae looked trapped. “You can really speak your mind when you want to, can't you?” she muttered. She jerked her unlit cigarette in and out of her mouth. “You're right, of course. I've been a shit about everything, haven't I? Okay, it's a deal. I'll only smoke outside. I'll pick up the
kid after school and I'll give you some money when my unemployment cheque comes. But I can't tell you how long I'm staying—I just don't know yet.”

Then Sharon asked the question Theo dreaded. “But what about your
child
? You have to decide what you're going to do about her! I really think you should talk to someone, Mary Rae.”

Rae stood up and headed for the balcony. “Just give me some time, won't you? I'm not going to see any damn counsellor. I've had enough people poking their noses into my business.”

“Don't use that kind of language in front of Theo,” said Sharon quietly.

Rae laughed as she opened the door to the balcony. “Theo's heard a lot worse than that, haven't you, kid?”

T
HEO COULD HARDLY WAIT
to escape to the Kaldors the next day. She paced impatiently while Sharon searched for her keys.

“Who
are
these people?” asked Rae.

“They're a wonderful family that Theo's met,” said Sharon. “She's been visiting them almost every Saturday. The mother's an artist and the father's an English professor.”

“They sound pretty uppity,” said Rae.