House of Darkness House of Light (53 page)

Carolyn was often in her garden when the ladies arrived home from school. Whether planting, pruning or weeding, it remained a constant chore. Always something to do next, preparing the ground was as important as tending to its seedlings. Crows would frequent the opulent eatery, fine dining at its best; a virtual cornucopia they treated as a smorgasbord. Brazen thieves, scoundrels, they were; no manners and no regard: rude to each other and inconsiderate of their hostess. A prolonged period of pilfering prompted Carolyn to place an ugly scarecrow in the center of the corn stalks. The culprits would land on it and laugh, stretching out their long lean necks, cackling at the woman as they used it for a perch…the better to see you, my dear: Bastards. Their disgusted gardener would grab her rake and chase them away to the clouds, to no avail. As soon as her back was turned they’d quickly return to rob her blind; help themselves to whatever they presumed had been planted exclusively for their benefit. The crows were pushy and petulant; a self-absorbed lot, to be sure. It was more toil and trouble than she had anticipated, keeping a garden pristine and safe from intruders. And it wasn’t just the crows; there were bunnies and deer in abundance. Their family had moved to a place where the wild things are…and the wild things were hungry! It soon became apparent to Carolyn; it was a war she would never win, so a truce was declared. The white flag went up as one generous woman graciously acquiesced, making peace with Nature by planting a larger plot the following season. Problem solved. Much like the house, the land was shared space; the fruits and vegetables of Carolyn’s labor of love providing a horn o’ plenty for anyone and everyone depending upon the bountiful spot of Earth for sustenance.

Andrea was fascinated by these crows. Once her books were stashed inside the house she would go outside and sit on the retaining wall overlooking the garden; the perfect vantage point from which to study their gawky, awkward movements. Observing their antics was thoroughly entertaining. Andrea went there to converse with her mother and together, they enjoyed the show. There they were, usually fewer than ten of them at any given moment. Occasionally the crows would appear as a full-fledged flock, particularly at harvest time; loose kernels of corn plucked by the scavengers from the surface of scarred soil. They would hunt and peck, hop and flinch, posture, argue and compete for the grand prize, resembling adolescents released into an open playground. Though she had no way of knowing for certain, Andrea was quite sure all of them
must
have been of the male persuasion…like an unruly gang of youths.

As winter set in, their garden was abandoned for the season. This was best for bird-watching because crows prefer the spoils. Rummaging like dumpster divers, experts at gleaning the remains of any landscape, leaving stick-figure footprints in the moist, cool dirt, Andrea admired them. She had an affinity for the sleek, stark feathered friends who clustered around her. Though they never came too close there was a unique form of communication between the birds and their winsome child. Whenever she perched alone on the stone they began the carrying on, squawking an infamous “caw” so loudly others would come to call. Silently, patiently waiting for them to gather in assembly along the granite wall, she’d talk to them; not with words but in thought. The crows responded in kind. They would cock their heads and look knowingly into her eyes. There was no fear; no reluctance with anyone involved in the exchange. It’s impossible to succinctly describe the level of trust they attained; the rapt sensation of connectedness she felt with the crows. They knew what she was thinking; she knew why they were there: Birds of a feather flocking together.

December had arrived. The wind was gusting; birds riding the stiff breeze. As her crows flocked in the garden, Andrea remained poised on a stone wall, lost in thoughts of the day. She wasn’t watching too closely, but rather, was communing with creatures, writing about them and about herself; perceptions of time in continuum. As words came they were soon committed to memory, as if ordered to stick in her mind. They were meant to mean something. Over time she would comprehend the significance of a few solemn words written as wild wind tore at the sheets of her consciousness. Within weeks she would be confronted by an ugly, agonizing reality of life: Death.

“Either I am losing my mind or finding my way. I am here, now perched

upon the precipice; on the verge of flying elsewhere. I am almost home.”

Papers began to scatter from her tablet. The wind was wailing and her cheeks were freezing…time to go back in the house. Rising from the great wall, she turned away from the flock without any acknowledgment of moments spent together. Those crows had other plans and would not let her leave until their message was received. Andrea’s melancholy mood was utterly inexplicable.

It had been such a good day. There was no reason to feel so dispirited yet it swept over her like the abrupt gust lifting birds into the ether. They swarmed like bees from a hive disturbed, circling the house with purpose and reason. Their patterns were distinct and intricate by design, the intention deliberate; dozens of dark-winged souls displayed perfect unison, following precisely, exposing their glossy black feathers, attracting her eyes to the sky. She stood quite still near the kitchen door, marveling at the structure of birds in flight, though there seemed to be some urgency in their sharp cries, as if they were attempting to tell her something. This flitting, fluttering bevy of birds were communicating; trying to tell her. She could not comprehend their message. It was beyond her capacity to grasp. The crows were spirits alive in the sky, an omen; harbingers of things to come…the Angels of Death come upon her.

***

Nancy was the rebellious child but she was also kindhearted and generous to a fault, especially with her belongings and sometimes those of her siblings. Always anxious to do the right thing whenever a need presented itself, it was no surprise when she befriended a sweet young girl named Lenora, someone fragile and delicate; so vulnerable to attack. She too was one of five children, something these ladies had in common, though Lenora had four big brothers. Nancy could not tolerate the way other children picked on her, shaming the girl for the second hand clothing she wore and snickering about her less than privileged circumstances in life. The unkind whispers offended Nancy to her soul. Having been herself a victim of such cruelty, she well understood how it felt to be shunned by one’s peers. Nancy decided to do everything in her power to protect and fiercely defend her little friend; to be the
someone
to watch over her. It was a unique friendship born of pure sympathy. Initially, Nancy took pity on the tiny girl but quickly grew to love and admire Lenora. Carolyn used to tell the child that she was as bright as a new copper penny. Lenora would blush, as proof of the assertion. All the girls were fond of her. They welcomed her into the fold. As petite as a baby bird, the child appeared frail but could eat like a horse and appreciated Carolyn’s skills in the kitchen. She spent several overnights with the family, enjoying her time with a group of sisters, a sensation she had never known…pajama parties and pillow fights were foreign to her but she happily adapted, flourishing from all the attention she received at the farm.

Her first overnight visit came unexpectedly on a school night; one hard and fast rule broken: an exception made. It was during late winter or early spring of the previous year. Nancy came home from school with a series of rather odd questions for her mother. Though Carolyn knew about the girl, they had yet to meet. Nancy was determined to rescue her foundling on a dark night.

“Mom? Do you know how far it is to get to my friend Lenora’s house?” It was a rather subtle, sneaking-in-the-back-door request.

“Doesn’t she live down the road that’s just past the high school?”

Nancy nodded. “Across from the dump.”

“That’s right. I remember now…as the crow flies? It’s about six miles.”

“What does that mean, ‘as the crow flies’?”

“It means…if you were traveling in a straight line, that’s how far it would be without all of the twists and turns you’d have to make in a car to get to the same place.” Carolyn tried to explain a linear concept to her confused kid.

“How far is it as the car drives?”

“Why do you ask?” A mother’s intuition hard at work, she suspected what was coming next.

“Do you think she could come for dinner? We’d have to go get her…”

“I don’t know, honey. I just started cooking and your father’s coming home later tonight. I want to be sure we have enough left over for him to eat, too.”

“We always have enough to share! I’ll give her mine. Please?”

“Why is it so important to invite her over tonight? Couldn’t this wait a few days?” Her mother was perplexed. She preferred to plan ahead.

“No, it
needs
to be tonight.” Carolyn could hear the angst steadily rising in her daughter’s thinning voice.

“We could pick her up Saturday morning, instead. She could spend the day with you. Better yet, you could invite her to spend the night.” Working the logistics, Carolyn’s suggestion seemed a more sensible option.

“I want her to sleep over
tonight
.” Nancy was not whining…but remained steadfast in her approach.

“Nance, you said dinner; nothing about sleeping over. You know the rules. It’s a school night.” Her mother stirred the stew as they spoke.

“Please…” Nancy’s eyes began to moisten; dewy brown orbs graced with fawnlike lashes tugged at a mother, breaking her heart. Something happened. Something was wrong. All the girls knew the rules. “She had a really bad day in school. Do you think…just this once…she could come and stay over, even if it
is
on a school night? She can ride on our bus in the morning.”

“I see you’ve thought this through.” Considering the plea, Carolyn listened.

“I don’t know if her mother will even let her come but at least I want us to try…will
you
ask her?” Nancy felt a sense of urgency. “Can I call her?”

“
May
I call her…first, tell me what happened.” Probing a situation further, Carolyn wanted to know what had prompted this sudden outcry for support.

“Some girls were
really
mean to her in gym class today. I really don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ll get mad all over again.”

“Did you get suspended for defending Lenora’s honor?” Carolyn was only half-teasing. It was entirely conceivable. “Expelled?”

“I wasn’t
there
…
that’s
why it happened! If I had been there…
may
I call her now? Will you talk to her mother?”

It then occurred to Carolyn, this kind of compassion was precisely the type of good character trait she wanted to instill then reinforce in all her children. Nancy dialed the number. Carolyn called her eldest to come downstairs and watch over dinner while she was away. Within minutes mother and daughter were on the road; on a rescue mission.

The town dump was one nasty bit of business. As the ladies drove past it a big fat rat ran directly across the street in front of the car, startling both of its occupants. Nancy had the address, pointing out the house to her mother; just around the corner…on the left. Lenora was waiting on the front porch swing, her knobby knees protruding from beneath a cotton dress; this and a sweater, too sparse an outfit for the season, but likely the nicest outfit she owned. The child was excited; she leapt from the steps and ran to the car to say hello. Her mother waved from the window. They were off; an excursion into the woods.

It was obvious why the child was teased and taunted at school. Everyone in town used the local dump. Whenever they did, they drove through the shabby neighborhood beside it; a series of row houses, neglected at best; at worst, ramshackle: “the other side of the tracks” in a town that didn’t have a train. Carolyn knew why “Poor Lenora” had become a target of the cruelest among her peers; even the appearance of poverty was enough to provide them with ample ammunition…required to inflict mortal wounds. Words are powerful. Humiliation is weaponry. Lenora finally spoke up.

“You live far away!” She was amazed by the length of Round Top Road.

“It’s only about six miles…as the crow flies.” Carolyn smiled, listened and laughed as her young daughter responded to the question posed by her friend: “What’s that mean?” Nancy recounted an earlier explanation of the phrase. It was a hoot any owl would envy. Lenora was adorable; two girls giggled as their trip home was a delight. To see them together, one would never suspect Lenora had been bullied, enduring the merciless wrath of her often hateful classmates. This child seemed happy and carefree; a blithe spirit. She felt an authentic acceptance from Nancy, allowing her personality to burst into full bloom. The charming cherub was sweet; a bit shy, smart and very funny.

Arriving home, Carolyn checked on dinner. Andrea had taken the initiative to add some vegetables, stretching the stew. The meal smelled sumptuous as it cooked, filling the home with tempting aromas. Nancy made introductions all around. Lenora noticed. “Something smells
so
good!” It was the first time most of them had ever seen her though everyone knew all about her. Carolyn was taken by how much she resembled Nancy…same long mousy brownish
/
blondish hair, petite-in-miniature; even smaller than the pint-sized version of her daughter. Though both girls were twelve, Lenora appeared no older than eight; nine at most, like a failure-to-thrive child, though she seemed healthy enough. Based on her buoyant laughter and equally hearty appetite, there was nothing wrong with the precious little girl. Carolyn wondered how anyone could be so unkind to her. Andrea stayed in the kitchen; all the other children went upstairs to play
dress up
; everything that fit her went home with Lenora the following day. Carolyn voiced no objections. Nancy was right. They had plenty to share and it
was
the right thing to do. As the first of her visits was a rousing success, Lenora was invited back again. It lifted her spirits to be out on the farm with friends. Truth be told, it did all of them good to share space.