Scattered Leaves (4 page)

"No," I said.
"Don't you believe in the tooth fairy?"
I smirked, thinking of how Ian would have reacted to such a question. How could she think a girl my age would still believe in the tooth fairy, especially a girl who looked as old as I did?
"No,"
"That's sad. There are so few nice things to believe in. We have to hold on to them. Here's another thing I won't ever throw away." she said, holding up her wrist to dangle the charm bracelet, "It's the first birthday gift I remember my father giving me."
I smiled, but I didn't know what to say. Grandmother Emma would certainly never wear anything a child would wear, even if it held some precious memory for her.
"Oh," she said, realizing where we were all standing to continue the discussion, "I'm sorry. I've been living alone for so long. I've forgotten my manners. Emma would have me locked in a closet, but manners are important only when you're with other people. You don't have to be polite to yourself. Well, it's time you came in. dear. It's time you came into your new home. How exciting it must be for you. Welcome," she added and stepped back.
Felix looked at me. I could see it in his face, the question: Would I just tarn and bolt for the car, or would I step into the house? I imagined he wouldn't blame me if I ran, even if it made Grandmother Emma angry.
I closed my eyes and held my breath for a moment.
"Show no fear," I imagined Ian telling me. "You're a March. You can be as strong as Grandmother Emma. Show them all right from the start."
Clutching the bag of his letters to me as if I thought they would somehow protect me from anything unpleasant, I stepped into the house.
It was like starting a new chapter in a book that had yet to be written, a book that I feared had a sad ending and certainly not an ending written by me.

The only light inside the house came from the sunlight that poured either through the windows without shades or the windows with curtains that weren't drawn closed. The entryway was wide but short, with a dull brass chandelier that was missing bulbs. A wooden coat hanger stood almost in our way on our right. What looked like a man's black wool overcoat hung on it, with a black woolen hat hanging beside it. Below were a pair of old-fashioned galoshes and what looked like the left foot of a pair of men's black leather slippers. On the other side of the entryway was a mirror in a gilded frame that practically cried out for cleaning and polishing. I saw gobs of dust in the corners as well. A thin gray rug sat unevenly on the hardwood floor. It was so dirty and worn I could see the wood through the torn threads.

I was immediately taken with the odor of burned toast and bacon, but the scents smelled old, like the aromas of foods cooked days ago and trapped inside. The house did seem stuffy and dank. I wondered why all the windows weren't thrown open on such a nice day. Nancy, who wouldn't hesitate to open the windows in my and Ian's rooms, even on cloudy days, would say, "A room has to breathe fresh air once in a while. too." She made it sound as if the walls and furniture could suffocate.

Directly ahead of us and to the left was a stairway not half the width and height of the one in Grandmother Emma's mansion. It, too, had a worn gray carpet over its steps. The railing was much thinner than the beautiful balustrade Grandmother Emma took pride in. It wasn't as elaborately designed. I saw that the knob at the bottom was missing. Only a stem stuck up.

Along the corridor to the stairway and beyond were framed photographs of people I thought might be family. I was sure one was of Grandmother Emma when she graduated from college. Some were awkwardly tilted, and the one nearest to me tilted forward and looked like it was ready to fall. How could anyone walk by it and not fix it? I wondered,

My gaze went to the walls themselves. They were covered in a faded Wedgwood blue wallpaper with edges curled out and actual tears in some places that made it look like someone had been scratching at it. Maybe the house is going to be renovated, I thought. That was a sensible explanation for all this. Before we had to move to Grandmother Emma's mansion, my mother once took Ian and me to a house she was considering renovating. It didn't look in any better condition, but she said that was all we could afford without depending on Grandmother Emma.

Suddenly, a large gray cat with spotted gold eyes stepped out of the room on our right. It arched its back at the sight of us and then relaxed and sauntered down the hallway, bored and disinterested. Ian would say it had the March arrogance.

"That's Miss Puss." Great-aunt Frances told me. "She's twelve years old so she thinks she owns the house and will go anywhere she wants. Don't be surprised to see her under your bed or on the kitchen table. I should be more stern with her, but thanks to her, we don't have mice."

Grandmother Emma never permitted us to have a pet. She was of the belief that all animals were wild by nature and domesticating them was a futile endeavor, which Ian explained meant a waste of time. She said they brought in dirt and odor and were not kind to furniture. Once, Ian asked to have a dog, but only because he wanted to study the animal and repeat some experiments someone named Pavlov had done establishing some important scientific facts.

Grandmother Emma wouldn't hear of it.
"You're not allergic to cats, are you?" Great
aunt Frances suddenly thought to ask.
"No. I don't think so," I said. "We never had a
cat or a dog.'
"Lester Marshall has a hound dog named
Bones, but he doesn't come into the house.
I
think he's
afraid of Miss Puss, even though a dog would never
admit being afraid of a cat," she told me almost in a
whisper. She was so serious-looking when she said it
that anyone listening might think she really believed
dogs could talk.
She just assumed I knew who Lester Marshall
was, I guess.
I glanced at Felix, who was studying everything
in the house and shaking his head. He looked at Greataunt Frances and then at me and I thought there was
some real hesitation in his face. He was gripping my
suitcases tightly now. I could see it in the way his
hands hardened; the veins in them were embossed and
his knuckles had turned white. He knew that
Grandmother Emma wouldn't set foot in here, I
thought. She would turn around and order an army of
house cleaners to report immediately.
Great-aunt Frances moved the coat hanger
back. She saw the way
I
was looking at the coat. "This was my father's coat and hat and those
were his boots. I put them there to keep him close,"
she said. smiling. "If you throw away or hide
everything that belonged to the people you loved, you
make their spirits feel unwanted. Oh. I know. Emma
would say that's silly," she added, gazing at Felix. He
forced a smile.
I wasn't sure if I would or not. It sounded
sensible and Grandmother Emma did tell us our
ancestors were always watching and listening. "I'm sure you're getting hungry for lunch and
your little stomach is growling angrily. I'll make some
lunch for you, too, Felix."
"No, Miss Wilkens. I'm not staying for lunch. I
have to start back as soon as I see to Jordan's being
settled. I have things to
do back in Bethlehem for Mrs.
March."
"Oh." She shook her head and scrunched her
nose, making ripples in her forehead. "My sister
always worked her help too much." she told me and
turned to Felix. "Let's show Jordan to her room right
away then," she declared, clapping her hands together
as if she had just thought of the idea. "Follow me up
the stairway,"
She kept her palms pressed together and
waddled toward the stairs. A hailstorm of questions
peppered my mind. When had she stopped being the
beautiful, trim-figured woman in the March family
albums? How long had she been living here? Was she
always by herself? Why hadn't she ever married? Why
didn't she have children of her own?
Felix waited for me to follow her first.
I
gazed
through the doorway of what was surely the living
room and saw it was a very messy room. There were
magazines strewn about the furniture and an the floor.
A blanket was crumpled at the foot of the large darkbrown pillow sofa. Glasses and dishes were on the
long, narrow, wooden coffee table, and a towel had
been tossed to or dropped on the other side of that.
I
couldn't see much more because we were walking too
quickly for me to pause, but
I
did catch a glimpse of
stockings hanging on the fireplace, Christmas
stockings. What were they doing there now? It was
only August.
The stairs creaked and moaned as we ascended,
and the railing
shook. I looked back and saw that
Felix was eyeing it with some concern and caution. "Don't lean on it." he warned.
When we reached the second landing. Greataunt Frances paused and gazed about, as if she was
trying to remember where my room was herself. Then
she smiled and started down to our right. Because
there were no windows in the hallway and the
chandeliers in the ceiling were unlit and also missing
bulbs, it was so dark that I felt we were walking
through a tunnel of shadows. I could barely make out
the few pictures hung along the way. They were
depictions of country scenes, men and women riding
horses with dogs trailing along. There was a picture of
a lake with a young woman looking out over it as if
she was waiting desperately for someone.
I wasn't watching where I was going, so I
nearly screamed when Miss Puss charged past me,
grazing my lower leg and shooting ahead into the first
open doorway.
Great-aunt Frances paused there and turned to
me.
"This is it," she said. I wondered if she had seen
the cat go in.
I stepped up beside her and looked into what
was to be my room. My heart bobbed like a vo-yo in
my chest. There was a very large bed with a heavylooking, dark oak headboard and footboard, but the
bed obviously had been made hastily. The bedsheet hung too far on one side, and the pillows were stuffed too tightly into their cases, making them look bumpy and too rounded. There was a dull, cream-colored comforter with thread hanging from its edges. It appeared to have been tossed over the bed at the last moment. Grandmother Emma would have fired Nancy if she had made a bed like this. I thought, And our minder, Miss Harper? She would have had a heart
attack and Ian wouldn't have had to poison her. Curtains dangled limply around the two large
windows, one to the right and the other to the left of
the headboard. There were no shades to stop the
morning sunlight, and the grime around the corners of
the casings, the moldings and around the shelves on
the wall to the left announced that the room was in
desperate need of housekeeping. There were cobwebs,
too, in every corner of the ceiling. Whereas Ian would
call Grandmother Emma's house a museum of
antiques, he would surely call this house a museum of
dust. No one had been sent to greet us at the door, but
didn't Great-aunt Frances at least have a housekeeper? Again. I looked at Felix. Now he looked like he
would break into tears leaving me here. He was
paused just behind me, shaking his head gently. I
looked around the room again, at least pleased to see the small desk and chair even though they were both quite scratched. The desk was a little like the one I had back at the mansion. I'd sit there and do my homework. To the right of it was a large dresser that didn't match the bed. It was a much lighter shade of
wood and a different style. It, too, had scratches, "Here's the closet," Great-aunt Frances cried
and opened the closet door to reveal clothes on
hangers tightly stuffed against each other, squeezed in
to fit. "Oh, dear." she said, realizing there was no
space for my clothes. "I forgot to take my things out.
This was once my room," she said, smiling. "But
maybe some of those things would fit you. I tell you
what. You take everything out and try anything on
and choose anything you want, okay? And what you
don't want we'll have Lester take to the Salvation
Army, unless it fits his granddaughter,"
After she said that a tiny buzzer went off, and
she raised her wrist so quickly that I thought
something living in the closet might have bitten her,
but she was looking at her large-face watch. "Oh, dear me, dear me. It's time for Hearts and
Flowers.
I
never miss it. Never, never. I'll leave you to
get organized." she added and hurried past us, out the
door and down the corridor, Miss Puss crawled out from under the bed and looked up at us. Then she shot
past and after Great-aunt Frances.
Felix finally lowered my bags to the floor. He
sighed deeply and shook his head again as he looked
around the room.
"Yep. Mrs. March would sure be surprised." he
muttered. He approached the dresser. There were old
photographs in frames, a dark wooden jewelry box
and two ceramic angels on it. After he ran his hand
over the dresser, we could see the top was crusted in
dust.
"That daughter of Lester Marshall is supposed
to be caring for this house. That was the agreement
she made with your grandmother when Lester asked if
his daughter and her daughter could move onto the
property. Looks like she's got some back rent due." he
added. "I'm going to go have a word with her. by don't
you look around and see what you need before I leave
for Bethlehem," he added. "I'm just afraid I'd set your
grandmother's recovery back a decade if I described
all this to her." He tightened his face and straightened
his shoulders. "I'll handle it myself.
"Damn," I heard him mutter as he turned and
walked out.
I stood alone, feeling as if I had been deposited in someone else's nightmare. Felix wanted me to see what else I needed? I needed my family back. I needed to go home. For a moment
I
debated whether or not I should just run out after him and cry for him to take me home, but what would that do to
Grandmother Emma? And to Daddy? I'd be the cause of so much more trouble. And then, of course. Ian
would be disappointed in me.
"Open your suitcases, unpack and settle down,"
I could hear him whisper.
I put the bag of his letters on the small desk.
then I went to the dresser, but when I opened the
drawers to put in my things. I found they were full of
socks, underwear, and blouses. Actually, nothing had
been removed to make room for me. When had Greataunt Frances learned I was coming? Hadn't she had
any time to prepare? What was I supposed to do? I
took out a blouse and held it up. It was small enough
to fit someone like me.
I
thought, I probably could fit
into some of her old clothes. This had definitely been
her room when she was a little girl, and from the
looks of it, no one had been in it since. I wondered
where she slept now
I condensed her things to make room for my
own things in the drawers. How fortunate it was that I hadn't brought all my clothing. There would simply be no room. When I finished unpacking.
I
realized Greataunt Frances had not shown me where the bathroom I was to use was located. There was none in the room, as there was in my room back at the mansion. I had to put away my bathroom things. Where do I go? It can't
be far, I thought and went out searching.
The first door on my right opened on another
bedroom. There was a similar-size bed, but this one
wasn't even poorly made. The blanket was tossed
back and dangled off the side, and the four pillows
were all over the bed.
It
looked like the bed a person
having a terrible nightmare had just slept in or had
tried to sleep in.
I gazed around. This room had an oval area rug
under and around the bed. It was a light shade of ruby,
but splotched and stained, with a few rips along the
edges. I saw that a dish had been put there for Miss
Puss to lick out the remains of something,
Clothing was strewn about everywhere, as if
someone had gone mad and torn everything out of the
closets and drawers and flung them in the air. Just as
in the living room. I saw dishes and glasses with
caked, old food. They were on the vanity table, the
vanity table chair and the bedside tables. The windows in this room had shades, but one was inoperative and hung on a slant. On the dresser to my left. I saw a picture I recognized. It was similar to a picture I had seen in one of Grandmother Emma's old albums, a picture of her and Great- aunt Frances when they were both young women. Great-aunt Frances was
by far the prettier one back then. I thought.
I turned to a door across the hall and found the
bathroom. When I looked at it. I hoped there was
another.
It
was barely bigger than the powder room on
the first floor of Grandmother Emma's mansion. The
right sink faucet had a slow but continuous drip that
had long ago discolored the basin with streaks of rust.
Over the counter beside it were an open tube of
toothpaste with toothpaste dripped around it, a
toothbrush, a hairbrush fill of hair, pieces of soap and
an open bottle of antacid. There were articles of
clothing, panties, slips and socks scattered on the floor
and over the sides of the tub. A blouse hung from the
shower curtain and looked like it had been soaked in
water and soap and then just left there dripping. Whoever had done it hadn't noticed it would
drip on the floor and not into the tub.
The cabinet over the sink was open. Inside, the
shelves were crowded with all sorts of over-thecounter medicines, loose Band-Aids and another tube
of toothpaste without a cap. A bottle of cough
medicine had spilled as well, the liquid sticking to one
of the shelves and dripping down to another. It was
hard and discolored. It had obviously spilled quite a
while ago. Why hadn't it been cleaned up?
When I looked at the tub and the shower. I saw
they weren't in much better condition than the sink.
The tub also had rust stains and a ring around it, from
when it had last been used. perhaps. There was a
damp washcloth crimpled in it and a bar of soap.
Along the far side were jars of bath powders lined up,
two without caps.
Was this to be my bathroom. too?
I hoped not and quickly walked out and to the
other side of the stairway, where there were two other
rooms. The first door was closed, but it wasn't locked.
I opened it and looked in on a very nice bedroom. It
had a canopy bed with a lighter shade of wood for the
headboard, posts and footboard. The dressers matched
and the oval area rug was a pretty shade of light blue
and in very good shape. Everything was neat in the
room. There were no articles of clothing cast about,
and nothing looked out of place. All the articles on the
dresser were carefully placed. I saw there was another doorway, so
I
walked in to discover a bathroom in which the fixtures, although not modern, looked
newer and clean.
The windows in the room were the ones I had
seen with curtains and shades when we'd driven up.
Nothing looked worn or torn. Why couldn't this be my
bedroom? I wondered. Was it Great-aunt Frances's
bedroom? On closer inspection. I could see that
although it was well put together, it still had thin
layers of dust over the furnishings. It was simply an
unused room, but the nicest room in the house I had
seen so far. I couldn't imagine why Great-aunt
Frances wasn't using it.