Orphans of Stone: HomeComing: A Curious Middle Grade Fantasy

by Rae Craig

  Nori explained. “We are related to Norman Mac, and back then his sister lived in the house across from Harriet. Aunt Threda lives there now.” She sat down and thought for a moment. “Norman Mac must have stayed there when he visited, but I don’t know anything about him marrying Heart. Who was that? And he never did marry.”

  Harriet said. “She was Great Grandma Carrie’s best friend. Her real name was Harriet.”

  Ella added. “And Aunt Lottie’s diary hinted that Heart and Norman Mac liked each other.”

  Nori shared what she knew about Norman Mac. “For most of his life he worked at the big city art museum and he got pretty famous for discovering new artists” She considered. “That must have been years after that visit to Shi-octon. Grandma Mac said that when she was a little girl he was a sad old man.”

  Dad said. “Back then Heart was engaged to a man in the city, but she didn’t marry him right away because she traveled for the family business after her Father got sick.” He spoke to Ella with kindness. “I don’t think there was any romance between Heart and Norman Mac.”

  Ella’s head whipped back and forth, following the conversation, but with this last explanation she dropped to her heels in acceptance.

  Harriet said. “Where did Grandma go?”

  The girls hurried to the kitchen, where Grandma stood gazing out the window over the sink. Harriet said. “Grandma, we wondered where you went.”

  Grandma looked out at the orchard as she spoke. “I lived in this house my whole life and it’s still home.” She turned to Ella. “I’m glad your mom and dad wanted the farm.”

  Thinking about her own interests, Harriet said. “Is there still a sorghum mill in Shi-octon?”

  “It’s out past the Commons, next to the river.” Grandma went over to a canvas bag hanging on a chair and unrolled a old map onto the table. “It’s always been out there, because boiling down the syrup is smelly.” She pointed. “It’s right here where Center Road comes out onto the old ring road. Early in the fall you can watch them make molasses.”

  Ella said. “Where is Morak’s woods? They picked ferns there in Aunt Lottie’s Diary.”

  Grandma pointed to another spot on the old map. “That’s on your farm, Ella.” She pointed out past the milk house. “It’s on the other side of that corn field, but they call it Hoier’s woods now, because Clarence spent years laying out paths and building steps.” She smiled down at the map. “Sometimes I couldn’t get him to come in for breakfast because he would go up there after milking. He said five minutes in the woods was better than a day of rest, but I don’t know how he knew that, because he never rested.”

  Harriet stiffened, ready to jump in and change the subject when Grandma said Clarence, but it was obvious she was talking about Grandpa Hoier, so she relaxed. “Grandma, is this the map they found in our attic?”

  Grandma sighed. “No one realized how that woman had been living until she got sick. It took weeks to clear out what must have been everything she’d ever owned. Her sister took her home to the city.” She rolled up the map. “Let’s get this supper on the table. Herm made chili and Nori baked an apple cobbler with whipped cream from yesterday’s milking.” They put extra leaves in the table to make it bigger.

  Ella smiled. “Aunt Helen, I smell something delicious in the oven.”

  Grandma put on a mock serious face. “Don’t you mind that. Go tell everyone supper is ready.”

  They gathered in the kitchen that had seen countless family suppers, harvest meals and evening games.

  With a sly expression Grandma said. “Now for my surprise.” She opened the oven and slid out two wheel shaped loafs of golden brown bread, “They’ve got molasses for sweetness and eggs and milk from the farm”

  They finished the first loaf along with the chili. Harriet reached out to touch the ringed pattern on the second loaf, made more striking by the browned ridges and lighter creases. “I noticed this ring within a ring pattern at the cemetery. Does it mean something special?” She looked around for an answer, but received only silence and quick glances between the adults.

  Grandma finally answered. “I think our ancestors liked circles for decorations.”

  Not a very satisfying answer, but by the way the subject was quickly changed to remodeling plans, she could tell that was all she was going to get.

  Ella said. “Mom, tell us the story about how Jenny lost her shoe in the hay loft.”

  Jenny laughed. “No trouble I got into will be a secret now! But Nori, remember I know your secrets too.”

  Nori laughed and looked around to include everyone in the story. “Uncle Clarence had worked all that week filling his hay loft with neatly stacked bales of hay reaching toward the roof- enough to feed his cows all winter. Friday, when he left for the cheese factory, Jenny and I climbed to the very top of the stack, jumping from bale to bale. There was a rope hanging from a cross beam that we used to swing down into his carefully mounded up pile of hay and each time we landed the pile got flatter and messier.” She looked at Grandma with an apology. “I know we made a mess of Clarence’s neat and tidy hayloft.”

  Grandma laughed. “Oh! He made many a mess himself when he was having some fun. How about that time he and Jenny Wren here,” She pointed to her daughter. “Rigged up a milk cart for our new dog Mozer to pull?”

  Mom hung her head and smiled.

  Grandma turned to Harriet and Ella. “They had some wild idea that Mozer would pull a loaded cart from the barn to the milk house.” She looked around to include the others. “For such a hard-working man Clarence was always looking for crazy ways to avoid work. I’d been training that dog to herd the cows up from the bottom pasture and after days of work I’d finally persuaded him to sit still and pay attention to me.” She laughed. “They hitched Mozer up to a cart loaded with that days milking still warm from the cows, and that dog took off careening through the barn, barking and carrying on, scared to death of the noisy cart that kept chasing him no matter how fast he ran. Milk flew everywhere, and I don’t think that’s what they mean by white washing the barn.”

  “Finally.” She took a breath while everyone laughed. “He burst through the rear barn doors dragging the smashed cart behind him. That scared our best mouser, Tipper, who’d been sleeping on a beam over the bull’s pen and when that poor cat tumbled down onto that mean old bull’s head, that animal exploded straight though the barn wall!”

  They laughed until their sides ached and tears ran down their cheeks.

  As they calmed down Grandma gasped out. “That dog was never the same.” They laughed even harder.

  Nori wiped tears from her eyes and looked sheepishly at Jenny before continuing her story. “Just before we started playing in the hay loft, Jenny had put on her new shoes to show me the bright red laces. Unfortunately, we liked them so much that I persuaded her to leave them on and when she swung off the hay bales her foot got caught between them and her shoe stayed trapped there as she swung down to the hay pile.”

  “We couldn’t find it.” Mom explained. “I knew right where it went between the bales, but it had slipped down too far.”

  Grandma said. “Then, you two came to me with guilty faces. Those shoes were less than one day old, but one shoe isn’t good for much, so we had to get a new pair.”

  Mom said. “Daddy found it down near the floor the next spring. Barn mice had chewed it up, especially the red laces, so at least somebody got some good out of it.”

  After desert the adults went out on the porch, while the girls cleaned up the kitchen. Harriet said. “Why do the dirty dishes double as soon as supper is over?”

  Ella grinned and lifted a stack of dishes into the soapy water. “We’re going to remodel this kitchen soon. Mom wants a bigger fridge, but Aunt Helen’s stove will stay.”

  Harriet looked around. “I like it the way it is.” She felt uncomfortable just thinking about any changes.

  “But think about how great your house is with the new porch, and before we do the kitc
hen we’re going to build a stone fireplace with a stairway built into it, just like yours. My bedroom will be upstairs facing the village and I can see your house from there.”

  “You’ll be in the attic?”

  “It won’t be an attic then.” Ella thought for a moment. “I know what will help; let’s get the plans Mom drew.” She held up soapy hands. “Go ask Mom where they are.”

  Harriet hung her towel on the nearest chair and walked through the dining room. She saw the adults through the side-by-side windows, Mom and Dad once again on the swing. Their voices drifted through the screen door before she opened it.

  Herm said. “We’ll start remodeling this summer.” He nodded to Grandma. “Aunt Helen already did a wonderful job with this porch. It looks just like the old pictures.”

  Dad said. “I’ve seen an old photo of Jenny standing here holding a kitten when she was little, but the porch didn’t look in good shape back then.”

  Grandma said. “It needed to be replaced, so we took it down. Just after that, Clarence lost his hand in the corn shucker and by the time he got used to working with one hand we were used to not having a porch.”

  Fascinated, Harriet listened.

  Mom said. “I remember Daddy’s accident. They said if he hadn’t pulled back when his sleeve got caught, it wouldn’t have destroyed his hand.” She sat in silence for a moment. “It didn’t slow him down for long though.”

  Harriet put her fingers out to grasp the door latch, but stopped when Nori spoke in a quiet, determined way. “We need to share some family history with you. We trust you and hope you can help.”

  Harriet froze, barely touching the latch.

  Herm looked at Nori and said. “As you know, we worked in the city, saving up a down payment for a farm. It was supposed to be temporary work, but our jobs lasted for years instead of months.”

  He continued after a pause. “Ella went to a good school with kids she said she liked.”

  Nori softly added. “We really thought everything was okay.”

  Herm touched his wife’s hand. “Ella started getting serious headaches. We took her to doctors only to be told nothing was wrong. You’d think that would have made us feel better.”

  Nori continued in a stronger voice. “But there was nothing to fix. And then a new problem started. Anytime Ella was in a difficult situation where she didn’t know what to do, she would lose her normal personality, become agitated and run home, and, she would have no memory of the episode. She had more medical tests with no good answers. The episodes became so frequent that she couldn’t go to school.”

  Herm took up the story. “One of the doctors suggested a psychologist, because that might help her deal with the headaches, but once again this new doctor found no problems, just told us to force Ella back to school, even with the pain and blank episodes.” He looked off into the distance. “I drove her to school that first day. I didn’t want to leave her there alone, but it did seem like the next logical step. During that endless five minute drive Ella got so agitated that I had to stop three times so she could get out to stagger around the car, jerky and blank faced.”

  Harriet had seen that Ella.

  Nori said. “We found out later that she didn’t remember the drive.”

  Herm ran both hands through his black hair. “It was all I could do to walk her into that school, but I wouldn’t leave the parking lot, and I sat there for hours.”

  He paused and swallowed. “I felt I had abandoned her.” He swallowed again. “Finally, she came running out, just beside herself crying. Her so-called friends had tricked her into missing an important meeting and because of that she wouldn’t be allowed to go on the special nature trip she’d been looking forward to all year.”

  Nori said. “It turned out this tormenting had been going on the entire time we lived there. Those girls picked on Ella because she looked different from the other kids. They would trick her into making mistakes, especially about being on time for important activities and then would make fun of her.

  Dad said. “I’ve seen this before at school. We think of kids as sweet and innocent, but they’re a mix of good and bad just like adults.”

  Nori nodded. “She thought she was handling the situation and didn’t want to ask for help, but her mind protected her by blanking out her so called friends’ unbearable cruelty.” She scooted forward in her chair, putting her elbows on her knees. “Ella approaches life openly. She believes what people tell her. She doesn’t shrug off emotional pain or fight back.”

  Herm said. “We thought of switching to another school, but that wouldn’t really solve the problem, because there is no problem with Ella. She just isn’t suited to a school environment; she needs life coming at her in a more controlled way.”

  Nori smiled at Grandma. “That’s when Aunt Helen’s letter arrived about the farm. She gave us the answer we needed.”

  Herm said. “We never wanted to live in the city, but our life was getting stuck there and Ella needed a different life. It’s like a herd of cows, they’re all fed and milked at the same time and if one cow doesn’t adjust, you’ve got to move that cow.” He held out his hands. “Of course, with cows you don’t have to worry about them treating other cows badly because they’re a different color.”

  Nori gestured outward. “In Shi-octon Valley we’re just naturally all different colors, so that doesn’t matter here, and Ella’s had no headaches or blank episodes since we arrived.”

  Harriet drew her arms tight against her chest. She knew there had been what they called episodes, and now she felt guilty without knowing what to do about it.

  Mom and Dad glanced at each other. Mom had been very quiet during Ella’s story, not even making the little encouraging noises an intent listener usually makes. She nodded to Dad.

  He said. “Of course, we’ll do anything we can to help, although I’ve seen no signs of difficulties with Ella. She’s a normal, intelligent girl, open to the world around her.”

  Herm said. “We think so too.”

  After a quiet pause, Mom said. “We hope this move will be good for Harriet as well.”

  Harriet punched her fists down tight against her sides, her finger nails biting into her palms. She did not know how to stop this. She had never heard Mom speak in this weak, pleading voice before. Mom looked to Dad as if to ask him for assistance.

  Harriet could not stop him.

  He took a deep breath. “You’ve probably heard by now of our son’s death. During the accident Harriet got a severe concussion and was in the hospital for several weeks. At first, we didn’t know how much brain damage she would have, but she’s recovered well with only some vision problems remaining.”

  While he spoke Mom visibly drew herself up and placed her hands firmly on her knees. She said. “Harriet remembers nothing about the accident. It took weeks for her to be well enough so we could tell her Clarence had died. She refused to listen. During that time she had explosions of extreme anger, which they told us is not unusual after brain injuries.”

  Mom leaned forward intensely, as Nori had done. “She will not talk about his death. She will not mention his name. We are stuck in a situation where we must act like he never existed.” There were no tears in Mom’s eyes, but she wiped them away anyway. “Harriet and Clarence had always been the center of a large group of friends and they all tried to visit her after she came home from the hospital, but she would not come out of her room and eventually they stopped coming.”

  Dad reached down to cradle Mom’s hand and added. “Harriet refused to go back to school, so we’ve been home-schooling her.”

  Mom nodded toward Grandma. “Ma came to watch over Harriet in the hospital while Donnell and I brought Clarence back here for his remembrance bond and then we buried his body in the cemetery.”

  She refocused, remaining calm and clear. “We buried him holding the toy horse Harriet and Clarence had found during their archaeology project. They’d worked for weeks gluing bits of pottery together. They l
aughed and argued day after day, resulting in a figure Clarence showed to everyone. He always gave most of the credit to his twin, but he had provided all of the patience.”

  She took a breath. “Since Harriet couldn’t be here for his burial, we needed to honor their special connection.”

  Dad continued. “We tucked the horse under his arm before closing the coffin. Clarence and Harriet had an extraordinary connection as twins. Their personalities meshed as if they were one person, but you can understand that was both a delight and a worry. And of course, we had to be very careful about visiting Shi-octon with them, and never did bring them here after they got older.”

  Mom said. “We need to tell Harriet about the horse, but she won’t let us speak our Clarence’s name.” She sat back, exhausted. “She hasn’t noticed the horse is missing.”

  Dad said. “We took Harriet to therapists, but she just sat there without talking.” He stopped to watch a farm truck drive by.

  “We don’t even know what happened.” Dad had that worm-like look he had had in the cemetery and Harriet pulled her fists up to her neck, pushing hard against her chin. “There was a flash flood in the stream where the neighborhood kids played. The other children easily ran to safety, but for some reason Clarence dove right into the dangerous torrent with Harriet following him and we don’t know why they did that.” Dad paused. “We found Clarence floating face down,” He rubbed his hand over his face. “and Harriet unconscious, caught on the front lip of a cement drain pipe.”

  He sat back in the swing.

  Grandma turned to Herm and Nori and spoke for the first time. “Then you wrote back, excited about taking over the farm.” She looked at Mom and Dad. “The store was empty, so my whole family could come back.”

  Her expression changed from reassuring to determined. “It’s time for the children to live in the valley.”

  Harriet heard a creak in the floor behind her. Ella stood with a dish towel wrapped around her hands like rope. They locked eyes. Both had heard their parents share intimate family stories. Both had heard facts about themselves they had not known before, or at least had not accepted those facts.