Orphans of Stone: HomeComing: A Curious Middle Grade Fantasy

by Rae Craig

  The difference between the girls was that Harriet was angry with her parents and Ella felt guilty that she had caused hers so much pain.

  Grandma called to them. “Harriet and Ella, come out here.”

  They walked through the door the way you do something automatically, without your brain attached to your body.

  “I think it’s a good thing.” She studied Harriet and Ella. “You heard all that was said?”

  They nodded their heads, not making eye contact with their parents.

  Grandma said. “It’s best to have this out in the open. That way we know what we’re working on.”

  She touched the girls’ shoulders. “You belong in Shi-octon.” She paused for a moment and looked around. “That’s enough of this talk for now.”

  Nori got up. “Anyone for more dessert or coffee?”

  Mom asked Harriet. “Are the dishes done?”

  Harriet took her time answering, so Ella answered, glad to talk about normal stuff. “Almost done.”

  “I’ll help.” Grandma offered. “Herm, why don’t you show everyone the remodeling plans.”

  They were all very happy to talk about remodeling. Herm got the plans from the buffet in the dining room and they followed him to the kitchen table. Nori explained. “Herm is chomping at the bit to start, but we had to settle the new animals first.”

  Herm said. “We’ll start in the dining room. Most of the room will be taken up by the new stone fireplace and stairs. There’ll be two bedrooms upstairs and on this floor Grandma Morak’s old bedroom will be the farm office.” He smiled with excitement. “And the living room and front bedroom will be combined into a bigger living room.”

  Nori added. “There’ll be an addition later, making the kitchen, bathroom and laundry room bigger.”

  Grandma looked over Herm’s shoulder. “That’s my favorite part, the big kitchen. The size of this one always made harvest time a struggle, with all the cooking and people.”

  Herm said. “We’ll have to wait till next summer for that. We can only do so much in one year.”

  Grandma answered. “You’ll be surprised at how many people will help,” She laughed. “Of course, you’ll have to listen to everyone’s opinions, so just think of that as your payment for their work.”

  Harriet and Ella finished washing up while Grandma walked back and forth between helping them and looking at the house plans.

  Dad said. “I’ve always thought this was a sturdy, attractive farm house, but what you’ve planned will keep the charm and make the house so usable.”

  Mom spoke. “I especially like the farm office. Daddy would always spread his farm records all over the kitchen table.”

  Grandma added. “And then what trouble I’d have getting him to tidy up at mealtimes.”

  Herm said. “In our family Nori is the better bookkeeper, although it is satisfying to keep the animal records”

  Mom laughed. “Herm, you’ve always loved your animals. Remember the rabbits you raised out back of the cheese factory? They kept having babies till we were about covered with them. We never could tell the girls from the boys, so we couldn’t figure out how to separate them.”

  The adults had a good laugh that didn’t include Ella and Harriet, which suited them.

  After dark Mom and Dad walked home, with Harriet and Grandma following a ways behind. Helen held her granddaughter’s hand, strength flowing through her touch. Tree frogs chirped in the trees arching overhead, drawing Harriet’s attention to her surroundings instead of herself. At the shophouse Grandma squeezed her hand and walked through the gate. From there, Harriet walked home alone, keeping a distance from Mom and Dad and then went right up to her room without saying goodnight. She needed time to figure out who she was the most angry with: her parents for sharing her story, herself for not stopping them or Clarence for leaving her completely alone.

  Chapter Nine

  Rose House

  “Knock. Knock. Knock.”

  Harriet woke from a slow-motion dream of crystals dropping into obsidian-dark water, each point of entry surrounded by ever expanding rings.

  Mom spoke through the closed bedroom door. “We’re leaving. You okay?”

  “Yeah. Okay.” Harriet sat up in case Mom opened the door, but footsteps had already started toward the stairs when she heard Mom say, “Did you see the lights in Rosa’s house last night? She and Dana are back for good.”

  Dad said. “That house will need work after ten years of sitting empty.”

  “Hetric kept an eye on it. Maybe a good cleaning and some paint will be all it needs. Captain Rose built it strong.”

  Harriet lay back, but there was no coziness left in the cooling pillow. Yesterday’s revelations from Matta’s porch filled her thinking, especially with nothing to distract her.

  Would they have ever told her about the toy horse?

  After breakfast she went to her room and strode purposefully across the bedroom to face her chest of drawers. Running her fingertips over the bottom drawer, the wood felt smooth and almost alive. She remembered two years ago when Grandma and Grandpa Hoier had visited them in the city. Grandpa had finished sanding this chest of drawers after Harriet had gotten bored with the job. Harriet held her flattened palms against the warm wood, willing time back to that Clarence-alive part of her life. She shifted her hands to the metal handles and pulled the drawer all the way out, setting it on the bed.

  In the cavity under the drawer rested a brown paper packet. Moving it to the middle of the floor, she slowly opened the creased flaps revealing eleven photos of varying sizes, one for each year of their lives. On top rested a wide portrait of Clarence and herself at six months old facing each other on their bellies, both reaching for a red ball. Lower in the stack lay a torn photo of them pulling red wagons as fast as they could, Clarence with a happy, excited smile and she with grim determination to win the race. Written in red on the back: the twins- 4 years old. The most recent photo had been taken in their old basement, with them laughing across a work-table spread with pottery shards. She couldn’t stop herself from checking the back: Clarence and Harriet- 11 years old. Not written was: our son died one month later.

  She restacked the photos and closed the flaps, her palms resting on the packet before her, as if to soak Clarence up into her body. He would have loved solving Aunt Lottie’s mystery. How could she have enjoyed her time with Ella and Dana without him?

  With the packet again hidden under the drawer, she was as settled as possible. She patted the sandwich in her jacket pocket and pulled the front door closed behind her. Overcast and cool, it would be a good Grandma day, but first the grotto and its comforting warmth. In the mill yard, Hetric Rethic dragged a log with his chugging tractor. She ducked behind some logs, but before she could slip away, he shut off the engine, climbed down, and walked toward her. Had he seen her? But he walked past her over to a rock retaining wall with a stone house above. Using a stairway formed from flat stones that cantilevered out from the wall, he ran up and into the house.

  If Dana and his mom lived in the Rose house, then this must be his dad’s. She had known other kids whose parents lived in separate houses. Before he could come back, she hurried past the mill.

  As she entered the grotto, out flowed not peace and quiet, but loud, off-key singing. Harriet scuffed her feet as she emerged from the passage. With her head thrown back, an auburn-haired woman belted out a song as she soaked her feet just where Harriet had planned to sit. She stopped and smiled at Harriet.

  Harriet said politely. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

  The woman dried her feet on her long cotton skirt. “Don’t be sorry. I’m ready to go back to work now. I’ve been cleaning since dawn.” She reached out to shake Harriet’s hand. “I’m Rosa Rethic, Dana’s mom. You must be Harriet.”

  Harriet nodded. “Will you be working in the Rose garden as well as the house?”

  Rosa laughed the way she sang, full out with her head thrown back. “I’m no gardener and
that garden’s been left to itself for so many years, ever since Grandma Rose passed to memory.”

  “Are you named after her?”

  “In a way. Great Grandma Rose was determined to carry on the Rose name, so my first name is Rosa.” She watched Harriet’s confused expression with a good natured smile. “Call me Rosa. I’ve been Mrs. Rethic at work for the last ten years and my real name is Rosa Rethic.”

  “What was your work?”

  Rosa stood up and brushed down her damp skirt. “A college librarian, but now it’s time to live here with Dana.” She turned and started up a hidden path tucked behind the boulders on this side of the waterfall. She looked down at Harriet from the top. “Have a good soak; it’ll do you wonders.”

  Harriet removed shoes, socks and rolled up her jeans. Like a perfect bath, the water was almost too hot at first. She leaned forward, enthralled by her legs swinging gently in the current from upper to lower falls. Maybe that comforting hand yesterday had been a trick of the current, but she had felt each cool finger against her skin, and, the answering embrace as she’d gripped the hand. She leaned back against the angled rock and closed her eyes. Was she as difficult as Mom had said? Harriet had never seen Mom lose her calm before. Knowing she was the cause made her feel guilty and angry at the same time. Couldn’t Mom control herself? Thinking about it made her angry all over again.

  She pulled her shriveled up feet out and reached far to the left for her shoes and socks. Why had she put them way over there?

  A loud cough from the entrance startled her. She over balanced and to catch herself slammed her palm down onto the uneven rocky surface.

  “Poop! Poop! Poop!” She jerked back her hand. The sharp point of a large rose crystal, now smeared with blood, stuck up out of the gravel.

  Dana stood near the entrance looking sorry. “I coughed because you didn’t hear me.” They watched blood drip down her arm.

  “I was thinking about some things.” She put on her shoes and socks, but blood got all over and it hurt.

  “Follow me. There’s a first aid kit at the house.”

  Dana stepped into the entrance passage with Harriet right behind him. The clouds had blown away and sunlight warmed them between the enclosing granite walls. Shuffling along, Harriet stepped on her shoelace and tripped, but instead of falling, she pancaked her cut palm onto the sun warmed granite shelf.

  Dana looked back.

  A rosy glow pulsed out from under her hand. Flash! Light surrounded her. Prickly waves ran up her arm, through her body and back out her palm. It happened so fast, she didn’t pull away until it was over. She clutched her wrist and drew it tight against her chest, sun spots floating before her eyes.

  Dana reached into the passage and grabbed her elbow.

  Harriet found herself sitting on Dana’s front porch steps, still clutching her wrist. He went inside. A moment later Rosa knelt on the step in front of Harriet.

  “Can I see it? We’ll clean it up and see if it needs stitches.”

  Harriet stuck her hand out, keeping her eyes turned away. Dana gasped, his mom and Harriet looking at him in surprise. He stared at her palm and she reluctantly brought it up in front of her. Mixed with sparkly stone dust, a crusty layer ran along the wound, like a loose scab on an almost healed cut. There was no bleeding.

  In a matter of fact tone Rosa said. “You’ve got an old cut that needs a good wash. Come in the kitchen.”

  She sat Harriet at the kitchen table and put a basin with warm soapy water in front of her. “Soak your hand for a minute and don’t worry if it stings a bit.”

  There was no sting. The warmth felt good and she relaxed and looked around. The kitchen was neat and clean with sturdy white cabinets and worn granite counters. Dana stood off to the side, watching them intently. She wondered why he had said nothing about the deep cut, but she hadn’t either. Rosa took a clean white towel and dried Harriet’s hand. Gravel and crust wiped away leaving only a shiny pink scar creasing her palm.

  Rosa said, “Well that certainly doesn’t need a bandage. You must have bumped it and thought it was cut again. I’m sure it’s still tender.”

  Harriet looked at Dana. He stared at his mom, but didn’t speak. This was all so strange she just wanted normal conversation. “Your kitchen is homey and neat.”

  “You should have seen it a week ago. But a good cleaning and fresh paint does wonders. The bathroom’s next. Great Captain Rose built this house for the wild sea storms he remembered and even after so long it’s as sound as ever.”

  Harriet said. “How old is it?”

  “Great Grandpa Rose built it after he came here to run the quarry. His health was better here.” She smiled at Harriet. “I’ll get back to work. Dana, show Harriet out and cut a bunch of rhubarb while you’re out there.”

  She followed them onto porch. Harriet looked out over the wild garden across the road. “Grandma Hoier remembers the Rose garden when it was beautiful.”

  Rosa said. “It would be an overwhelming job to clean it up now.”

  Thinking of Ella, Harriet said. “Maybe a good cleanout would uncover what’s still growing in there.”

  Dana looked from Harriet to his Mom. “I could use the cuttings for Jenny.”

  Rosa said. “Would Ella be part of this project too?”

  Harriet nodded. “She’d actually recognize what we’d find in there. It would be like a giant terrarium for her.”

  Rosa nodded. “Dana, check the shed. There’s gardening tools in there and they’ve probably been kept in better shape than this kitchen.”

  They went around back to the cobweb free shed where the tools hung neat, sharp and rust free.

  “We can’t start till after May Day.” Dana sounded disappointed.

  Harriet said. “That’s only six days away, the day after market. What happens here on May Day?”

  “A picnic on the Commons and a bonfire.”

  “If you just moved back here, how do you know so much?”

  He looked thoughtfully at Harriet’s hand as she latched the door. “There’s a lot I don’t know.”

  She felt uncomfortable. “I’ve got to get home for supper. Mom and Dad will need my help.”

  Dana’s eyes followed her as she escaped out to the road.

  Chapter Ten

  Village Errands

  Harriet fled toward Grandma’s shophouse. What must Rosa think of her? To be so upset about an old healed cut. Had Rosa noticed the blood all over Harriet’s arm and socks? What about that pitiful excuse she had given Dana? It was not even lunch yet, much less supper. She did not even say goodbye. Or thank you.

  What had healed the cut and what was that pulsing glow? And the tingling that felt like the zaps she had gotten on the stairs? No science or physics she had studied helped her understand.

  The shophouse felt empty. Harriet called in through the screen door, but no answer came back. In the side yard toward the creek, Morgan stretched out under the hydrangeas. She joined him under the bushes, smoothing her hand over the cat’s golden fur. Quiet purring was the only sound she heard.

  From over near the bridge, Grandma’s low, intense voice interrupted the quiet, but Harriet couldn’t make out the words. She peeked between the branches to see Grandma and Hetric Rethic standing toe to toe, staring directly into each other’s eyes. Hetric thrust out his square head and snapped it back like a turtle, as if to convince Grandma of his better point of view. They continued to argue, sparring back and forth, but too quietly for Harriet to understand.

  Grandma leaned in almost nose to nose and firmly declared. “I don’t care if that’s the way it’s always been done in Shi-octon. What we’re doing won’t change their ultimate connections and will definitely increase their understanding of those bonds.” He glared at her for a moment and stomped away toward the mill. Grandma stared into the now empty space, nodded her head decidedly, and walked toward the shophouse.

  Harriet stayed under the bush until Grandma had shut the door very firmly behind
her.

  “Grandma, are you home?” She pressed her nose against the screen door, Morgan waiting next to her, his tail swinging in lazy loops.

  “Come in.” Grandma motioned Harriet to the table. “I fixed bread with apple butter and a glass of milk; you take that and I’ll get more”

  She sat next to Harriet. “Jenny gave me a list of errands for you; it’s lucky you stopped by.”

  Harriet read the list:

  -Empire Everything- copper wire, 1/8 inch drill bit, screws

  -Blacksmith- nails, hooks, spirals

  -Giffin’s- whole summer sausage, cheese, butter, radishes, salad dressing.

  Harriet swung by home to drop off a loaf of Grandma’s fresh bread and get her backpack, then headed to Giffin’s. As she walked by the Toish cottage, a tall, bony woman in old fashioned clothes burst through the porch door and wound her way through the rocking chairs. Harriet was in no mood for a polite introduction. The woman reached the gate and pointed a knobby finger at her.

  “Twelve-summer-old girlie, which of the new ones are you?”

  So much for a polite introduction. “I’m Harriet Jameson. My parents are Donnell and Jenny.”

  “You’re the Donnellson girl. I know your grandmother.”

  “Grandma Jameson?”

  “Can’t switch names every time I turn around. Donnellson was her name first.” She yanked up her slipping headscarf. “Over here, girlie.”

  Harriet reluctantly edged closer.

  The woman jerked her head toward the house behind her. “That-old-man is in the middle of a precarious brew. You take a message to May Giffin.”

  “I’m going to Giffin’s now.”

  “That’s neither here nor there. You tell May we will deliver tomorrow morning. That-old-man just had to do his brew today.” Eyes striped like brown and blue spokes on a wheel caught and held Harriet’s brown as if to examine what was inside her head. Harriet felt weird locking eyes with someone she didn’t know.