"I need some worms. I think I'm going to go fishing tomorrow in the afternoon," I told her.
She didn't reply, and I hurried out. It was a lie, and lies lay in the air like bad odors in our home. I half hoped to see Elliot still in the woods nearby, but he was gone. Gathering up one of my worm cans. I traipsed slowly over the meadow toward the cool dark earth in the forest. where I knew worms were plentiful. Cleo wandered about nearby. I could hear him crashing through brush. Every once in a while, he returned to see if I was still there. I mixed some wet earth with my worms and collected quite a few mushy ones. as Noble used to call them.
The sky was completely overcast now, but it didn't look like it was going to rain. Unable to keep my curiosity under lid. I decided to cross through the forest, following paths well known to me, and reached a point from where I could easily look upon the old Baer property without being seen myself.
I saw Elliot working on setting up some lawn furniture with a man who was obviously his father. He had a similar build, and although his hair was not as red, it was a reddish brown. He was a few inches taller. I watched them together for a while, and then, because of the overcast. I saw a light go on in an upstairs window.
The old Baer property was nowhere as attractive as ours. I thought, but it had a large. twostory Queen Anne house with a wide front porch and a small back porch. The grounds obviously had been neglected to the point that the lawn was overgrown and frill of weeds. The vegetation from the forest nearby seemed to be encroaching rapidly, as if it had fully intended to overrun the house itself eventually. There was a broken wagon tipped to the left and a rusted wheelbarrow beside it. The wood cladding looked like it desperately needed a few coats of paint, and some of the shutters were broken and hanging by a single hinge.
Cleo came up beside me and sat. panting. His coat was full of small branches and leaves, and he had mud halfway up his legs. I would have to work him over considerably before taking him into the house, What I feared the most, however, was that he would just start to bark at Elliot and his father, and they would see me spying on them.
"Quiet," I warned him and put my hand on his neck, holding him tightly so he would know I didn't want him charging out of the brush.
Suddenly the lighted window was thrown open and a buxom girl with hair more like her father's leaned out. She was wearing only her bra and a pair of panties.
"Dad!" she screamed. "Dad!"
Elliot's father put down his screwdriver and walked around to the side of the house so he could look up at her.
"What?"
"The water is coming out brown. How am I supposed to take a shower and wash my hair in brown water?"
"Brown?"
"Dirty water," she cried.
"I'm sure its nothing." he said. "Just hasn't been run in that room for a while. Let it run, and you will see that it clears up."
"I have other things to do than wait for water to clear up. Dad." she whined.
"Betsy, just give it a chance, please," he pleaded.
"Why did we have to move?" she screamed and backed into the room.
Her father looked up, shook his head, and walked back to join Elliot at the lawn furniture. I could see Betsy pacing, and as she paced, she ran a silver brush through her hair. Although she didn't look that pretty to me, she had beautiful hair. I thought, and I felt a longing in the pit of my stomach. I watched the window for another glimpse of her, and then I grew tired of it and started for home.
It took me a good half an hour to get Cleo cleaned up enough to take him into the house. Mommy already had the dinner table set. Lately, she had agreed to let me help with it, but she made sure to add. "It's something a good son would do anyway."
I could see she still looked troubled about the new neighbors. She didn't want to stop talking about them.
"I was more comfortable with Mr. Baer living there." She said. "As dirty and crotchety as he was, he kept out of our business. All I need is a neighboring woman coming over here to sit and have coffee and gossip. Waste of my time," she spit.
"He said his mother was dead," I told her. For some reason. I had left that out. She raised her eyebrows.
"Oh? Why? What happened to her?"
"I don't know." I said. "He didn't say. and I didn't ask."
"And you were right not to ask. Still," she said looking out the window and speaking in a softer tone. "I wonder if her spirit's followed them here."
The idea raised my eyebrows.
"Would you be able to see her?" I asked.
"Yes," she said. "I would, and so would you," she added firmly.
As if she expected the spirits who hovered about us to be buzzing about the neighbors tonight, she couldn't wait to go out and walk into the shadows. I considered following her. but I knew she didn't like that. She always told me she needed her solitude when she was crossing over.
It was difficult falling asleep that night. I couldn't help thinking about some of the things Elliot had said. Wouldn't it be nice to really make friends with people my own age already? Would he ever come back, or had I made him hate me immediately? I couldn't get his sister out of my mind. The image of her brushing her hair lingered on the insides of my eyelids. I tossed and turned and moaned, but sleep was a door that seemed to have shut on me. I couldn't remember being as restless in a long while.
Mommy heard me and opened my door on her way to her own bedroom, but she wasn't stopping by to see what was bothering me. She had something important to tell me.
"No spirit has accompanied those people here," she said. "How do you know?"
"I know," she said. "Something's not right. Stay away from those people," she warned and closed the door.
For a long moment. I couldn't move.
Something's not right? What did that mean? If I was having trouble falling asleep before. I was surely going to have trouble now. I thought, and I actually didn't fall asleep for another two hours or so.
Every once in a while during the following day, I looked toward the forest, expecting to see Elliot spying on me or perhaps see him walking through the forest. I watched Cleo closely, too, but he didn't bark at anything in particular and mostly just lay nearby me and watched me do my chores. Mommy said nothing more about the new neighbors. but I could see she was still upset about them. When I asked her if she was all right or if there was something else wrong, she inored me as if I hadn't spoken. What she did remember, however, was that I said I was going fishing.
"I'm glad you're getting back to doing that. Noble, but please be careful," she told me when I went for my pole and the tackle box and can of worms. "Don't stay there too long. I'm going to the supermarket and to do some other shopping. I have to visit Mr. Bogart," she added, which surprised me. We hadn't been back to his jewelry store since she had bought us our amulets years ago. "We'll have dinner a little later tonight."
"Okay," I said.
I went through the woods to the stream, but far down from where the tragedy had occurred. At first I just sat there staring out at the fishing line and waiting to see my sinker bob. I had some nibbles, but nothing significant. and I had to fix a new worm on the hook three times. Suddenly I heard music, rock music. I could tell it was coming from the Baer house, of course. and I couldn't contain my curiosity.
I reeled in my line and put the pole aside. Then. with Cleo at my heels as usual. I walked carefully through the woods until I reached the Baer property line. The music was coming from the opened upstairs window I knew now to be Betsy's room. I heard a loud peal of laughter. too. Then, there was some shouting, her father's voice. Moments later, the music was turned down and finally turned off.
I could hear the movements they made in their house, and when I went a little farther down on my left. I was able to see into what was their dining room. I saw Elliot standing at the table with his arms folded, and then he sat and only the top of his head was visible.
My curiosity was unstoppable. It grew stronger and stronger until one of my feet followed another an
d I ran with my head down, almost squatting to keep out of view. Cleo ran beside me, but fortunately kept quiet. It was almost as if he knew he had to be.
When I reached the house, I pressed myself against the wall for a few moments and caught my breath. Then I moved ever so slowly until I was looking through a corner of the window into the dining room. Elliot's father came from the kitchen holding a roasted turkey on a silver platter. He wore an apron. Now that I looked more closely at his face. I saw he and Elliot had the same forehead and nose. but Elliot had a stronger, firmer mouth.
Betsy followed with a bowl of mashed potatoes and set it down. She was wearing a black and red pinstriped short- sleeved shirt with a black tie tied loosely around an open collar and a pair of matching black pin-striped pants.. I thought she would have looked more like a boy than I did, except for the fact that her cleavage was prominent in the opened blouse and her hair was beautifully brushed down about her shoulders. I couldn't believe the amount of makeup she had on for a family dinner, too.
Looking at her closely now. too. I could see some resemblances to Elliot, but she had a rounder face with small, brown eyes and a very weak mouth that drooped in the corners, giving her a habitual look of disgust. She practically slammed the bowl on the table and flopped into her seat.
"I'd like to go to the movies." she moaned, "I'd like to meet some of the kids my age before school starts here. and Billy Lester wants to take me."
"We don't know anything about him yet," her father said.
"What is there to know? He's the son of the real estate agent who sold us the house. Dad. He can't be a serial killer."
"I thought we would just enjoy our first big dinner at our new home."
"So how long is that going to take?" she pursued.
"It would be nice to spend the first few nights together here, don't you think? There's so much to do. Betsy."
She pouted.
"Its your fault. Dad, for letting her buy all these new clothes. She thinks she has to go parade around and show off," Elliot said.
"I do not. Just because you don't care what you look like, that doesn't mean I have to be
undistinguished."
"Wow. Excuse me. Undistinguished. Miss America," Elliot teased.
"Come on," their father said. "If s a new beginning for us. Let's all get off to a good start."
"Some beginning," Betsy insisted.
Her father looked frustrated.
"It just takes time to settle in," he emphasized.
"I'll never settle in," she muttered. "If s going to be boring living here, just as I thought." she wailed and sat back with her arms folded under her bosom. When she pouted like that, she looked like a fish we called a sucker.
"Betsy, please," her father pleaded.
"Well, it is going to be if I have to sit home every night and stare at these old walls and run water until it stops being brawn and--"
"All right, all right," her father said.
surrendering. "After we eat, help with the dishes and then go to the movies. but I want you home early. Betsy. I don't know this area yet. I don't want you going off and getting into any trouble."
"I won't," she said. satisfied.
"Sure she won't. And the sun won't come out tomorrow either," Elliot said.
"You're such a dark," Betsy told him.
"I didn't get into trouble last year," he snapped back at her.
"No, you didn't. You only got suspended twice for getting into fights," she said, wagering her head, And nearly failed two subjects."
"That's nowhere near what you did, and you know it," he countered. playing Ping-Pang with accusations.
"Can we at least eat in peace?" their father said in a desperate, tired voice.
They glared at each other.
Was this would it would have been like with Noble and me? I wondered. Yet even though they were bickering, there was something attractive about it. It made me smile. Scion they were talking about other things-- the house, the plans their father had for fixing it up. He made it sound like a wonderful project far them. Betsy said little, ate fast, but listened and promised to do what had to be done.
"I want to get another dog," Elliot told his father. "The crazy people have a golden retriever."
"We'll see," his father said. On thing at a time here. Elliot."
Crazy people? Is that what they all thought about Mommy and me?
Suddenly. I thought I saw Elliot looking at the window. I pulled myself back quickly, my heart pounding. Then I turned and, with my body folded again, ran for the woods. Cleo loped behind me, taking much too long.
I looked back when I reached the trees.
Elliot was standing in the window. He had pulled up the blinds and was looking in my direction.
I was sure I clearly saw a smile on his face.
His smile chased me through the woods. I hadn't realized how late it had gotten. I scooped up the pole, the fishing tackle box, and the can of worms. Then I charged through the woods and back to our house. Mommy was just pulling up the driveway.
"What's wrong?" she asked, getting out of the car quickly. She had her arms full of bags.
"Nothing." I said.
"Why are you running out of the woods so hard? Did you see something? Hear something? What?" she demanded as I stood there panting.
"No," I said.
She stared at me. She looked like she could see right through my head.
"They won't be here long," she suddenly predicted. "I've been told. There are dark days ahead for them. You listen carefully. Noble. You'll hear the same thing, unless you already have. Have you?"
"No." I said, fear draping over me like a gust of cold rain and wind.
"You will," she insisted and started for the house. "I have much to do," she added and mumbled. "much to do. Clean up for dinner," she told me when she turned back at the door. "And get that dog clean before you bring him in."
"Okay."
She went inside, and I looked back at the woods.
What was going to happen to them? I wondered. When would I hear about it?
Where were the spirits, and why wasn't I seeing them more and hearing them?
How much longer would it be before. I was as welcome as Mommy was?
Talk to me! I wanted to shout at the shadows. Maybe I did.
But all I heard was Cleo's panting and the sound of my own heart thumping.
18
Conjugation
.
It wasn't solely Mommy's cryptic warnings that
put the shivers in me at night and made every sound I heard, every creak, resonate like a firecracker. It was the things she did around our house and property that she had never done as intensely or as abundantly that really frightened me.
For one thing, she had candles burning in every window, and not just the window in the living room. Apparently. Ms. Bogart had given her some other things to do as well. She had brought home a decorative long knife. She said nothing about it, but after dinner, she suddenly produced it and without telling me why, she went out with it. I followed and stood on the porch where I watched her use the knife to draw a long line in the earth between the meadow and the woods facing the old Baer place. Then she returned to the house and brought out something else from her package. It was a five-pointed star in a circle made of brass. She pinned it securely to our front door. Above it she pinned two leafy twigs of fennel.
"What does all this mean. Mommy?" I asked, my eyes searching every pocket of darkness around us. It felt more like Halloween. "It s how we protect ourselves, keep evil away," she told me. She said nothing more.
Afterward, she returned to the living room, where she sat without any other light burning but the candle. Its glow flickered off her face, turning her skin amber. I could see her eyes fixed firmly on the darkness. unmoving. Her intense staring frightened me. She wouldn't talk; she wouldn't even glance my way. How long can she sit like this? I wondered. What was she expecting to see? The silence, the candle flicke
ring, tweaked my nerves. I couldn't remain there watching her. Even Cleo retreated and was anxious to follow me upstairs, where I tried to distract myself with my lessons and reading.
I kept dozing off, so finally I went to sleep, but sometime during the night I awoke and listened hard because I was sure I heard someone singing. I rose and went to my window. It was Mommy outside, singing a hymn. Cleo was awake, too. but I didn't encourage him to get up. When I left my room, I closed the door so he couldn't follow. Then I went downstairs and quietly opened the front door. Slowly I approached the edge of the porch and looked off toward the old cemetery. where I saw her standing with a lantern before the tombstones. When she stopped singing and blew out the light. I turned and quickly retreated., hurrying back upstairs. Cleo was up and waiting for me.
"Go to sleep," I told him and got into bed again. He curled up, groaned, and lowered his head to his paws. I listened for Mommy's footsteps and heard her pause at my door. After another moment, she went to her awn bedroom, and all was quiet.
Despite the warm, humid night. I shivered and wrapped the blanket about myself tightly. I was scrunched up in a fetal position, embracing myself. What was the danger Mommy feared? That would happen to us? What was so powerful that even our wondrous spirits couldn't protect us enough on their own? Had I done anything to cause this all to happen?
Every creak in the house snapped my eyelids open and made me hold my breath to listen harder. I saw Cleo was asleep, and that reassured me. Finally. exhausted. I drifted into sleep myself, as restless as it was. I woke once when I saw myself at the bottom of that grave, and my eyes suddenly snapped open. My arms lifted toward me. and I literally jumped out of sleep. It took me a while to slow my heartbeat and then tentatively, still frightened, lower my head back to the pillow and risk closing my eyes.
However, the morning was so bright it swept away my dark dreams and thoughts as if they had all been cobwebs. Cleo was already panting at the door, anxious to be let out. When I rose, washed, and dressed myself. I found Mommy up and about, looking fresh and relaxed. She beamed a happy, soft smile at me. It was truly as if all I had seen her do the night before was just a dream.