"Really?" she asked, her voice dripping with disappointment.
"That's very good," Philip Roder said. "He's practically forbidden me from entering his studio. Hi. I'm Philip Roder." He extended his hand.
"Rain Arnold," I said, shaking quickly. "I saw you dancing earlier. You're very good."
"Thank you," he said.
"Oh, and you know about ballet?" Sarah asked me. "About as much as anyone from where I come from, I guess, but I don't think you have to know all that much to tell that he's good," I said sharply.
"All right," Philip said, beaming a wide smile. "Someone with spunk."
Sarah looked furious for a moment and bit into her sandwich.
"What would you like to eat?" Randall asked me. I went to the refrigerator with him and picked out some cheese. He made us some tea as I prepared the sandwiches. Before we sat down, Fiona and Sarah left.
"What's her problem?" I asked, nodding in their direction.
"Don't mind her. She's always got a chip on her shoulder," Philip Roder told me. "She's like that to everyone, especially new students."
I nodded and then shrugged.
"Where I come from, Philip, she wouldn't be more than an annoying fly. One swat and she's gone."
He laughed loudly.
"All right, yes," he said. He looked at Randall. "You better be prepared if you're going to make any sort of play for this girl, Randall boy," Philip said as he rose. "Gotta go. See you later, Rain Arnold."
I looked at Randall. His face was the color of fresh strawberries.
"Listen to him. You're a little friendly with someone here," he said, "and the next thing you know, they've got you engaged. I hope you're not offended."
He really looked nervous; his hand trembled as he raised his teacup to his lips.
"Don't worry about it," I said. "The last thing on ray mind at the moment is romance."
"Me too," he said quickly as if that was what I would want him to say.
I couldn't keep my eyebrows from hoisting.
"Really?"
"Yeah, sure, I mean...I don't mean I wouldn't want to ask you out or anything, but...I have to be serious about my work and..."
"I don't know how we could get along anyway," I said gazing down at my tea.
"What? Why?"
"You went ahead and assumed I was a tif. I'm a mif."
"Huh?"
"You put my tea in first," I said.
He stared for a moment and then he laughed.
"Oh. Yeah. Sure. I'm sorry. I should have asked."
"I'm just kidding. I don't know the difference. I just arrived. I haven't even seen the city yet."
"Really? Oh, Well, maybe we could meet someday this week and tour a little. I've been here a few times, but I never really paid much attention to anything. I was always with my parents on those tour group things. Would you like that?"
"Sure," I said.
"Good."
He looked so relieved.
But just at that moment, Leslie and Catherine burst into the cafeteria and immediately went, "Oh, oh, oh,"
Randall turned crimson again as Catherine sat beside him and rubbed her shoulder against his.
"I try for him all this week and you win him with one smile already, cherie?" she asked me.
"All right, Catherine, control yourself," Randall pleaded. Leslie stepped up behind him and put her hand on his other shoulder.
"Maybe we share him, eh, Rain?"
"Will you two stop it!" Randall cried. He glanced at me and then shot up. "I have to get to stagecraft and do some preparation. See you all later," he said, looking at me once more before hurrying out.
The two French girls giggled.
I had to laugh with them. And then I looked after Randall.
A handsome but shy boy, I thought.
Maybe I will like it here, I thought. One thing I had felt already from the other students was the absence of any tension among us simply because of the differences in our skin color. Maybe it was because here we were all so unalike, some speaking an entirely different language and all having different backgrounds and cultures.
Perhaps in the theater you could be anyone you wanted to be and if you were good at what you did, people in the audience forgot everything else about you. Everyone shared the illusion.
Grandmother Hudson might have been a lot wiser than I had thought, I concluded. She might have known all this. She might have known I'd rather live in my imaginative world than the world of reality I had been given by Destiny.
She might have known this was the way I could frustrate Fate and find happiness.
Finally.
I would know soon enough.
4
The Forbidden Cottage
.
After a few more days of traveling through
London, I became more confident and actually began to enjoy riding on the tube. I even had the courage to leave the set route I took every day so that I could go shopping to buy myself a simple alarm clock. No matter how shrill the alarm, I thought, it would be a lot more soothing on my ears and heart than Ms. Boggs's fist pounding my door. As soon as possible, I bought the travel card Great-uncle Richard had advised me to buy. That was about the only question he asked me. He was very busy with important cases and missed dinner twice during my first week, but even when he was there, he asked me very little. He and Great-aunt Leonora either had guests to entertain or he was in deep thought about his work.
On Tuesday, I got up enough nerve to tell my Great-aunt Leonora about the bathroom not having any hot water. I had managed to take a shower at the school after dance class, but I couldn't stand not being able to bathe and wash my hair at home in the evening.
"Oh, I'm sorry, dear. Why didn't you tell me immediately? I never realized that bathroom was so inadequate," she said. "I'm so rarely in that part of the house."
She called Boggs and told him to get it repaired. He insisted there was enough hot water, but it couldn't be wasted by running it wantonly. It was the first time I had a real chance to stand up to him in front of Great-aunt Leonora.
"I don't think running enough hot water to take a bath is running it wantonly," I said.
"Of course it isn't," Great-aunt Leonora agreed.
"It's always been warm enough for me whenever I need it," he claimed.
"Maybe you don't wash as frequently as I do," I muttered.
"Women do have more needs in that regard," Great-aunt Leonora said.
He didn't turn red so much as his hairline rose with his ears, and then his mouth whitened in the corners, deepening the lines in his face until they looked like bloodless slashes.
"It's a forty-gallon 'ot water heater," he insisted. "It should do fine."
"I haven't felt a drop of that forty gallons yet," I threw back at him.
"Oh, dear, dear," Great-aunt Leonora chanted. "Dear, dear, dear. Richard won't like this. Not at all."
"I'll see about it, Mrs. Endfield," Boggs finally relented. He marched away, the back of his neck so stiff, I thought his head might snap off if he turned too quickly in one direction or another.
"Thank you," I told my great-aunt. "I don't mean to be any trouble to anyone?'
"Oh, I'm sure it's not very much trouble," she said.
"Not that I know much about the plumbing and such. I leave those things to Boggs and to Mr. Endfield. Don't trouble yourself about it," she concluded.
I returned to the kitchen. Both Mrs. Chester and Mary Margaret had overheard me complaining. I could see that the very thought of challenging Boggs was terrifying to them. They both avoided looking at me and worked without speaking. It was as if they thought Boggs might believe they were part of a conspiracy to overthrow him.
"Why is everyone so afraid of that man?" I cried in frustration. "He isn't the owner of the house, is he?"
"I'd like those potatoes peeled, if ya don't mind," Mrs. Chester said, ignoring my question and turning her back on me. Mary Margaret raised her eyes and then lowered them
quickly.
"In case nobody told you, slavery is against the law, even here," I muttered, but I didn't pursue it. How they wanted to live and work was their own business, I supposed, but I wouldn't just fade into the woodwork whenever Boggs widened his eyes or raised his eyebrows.
On Friday night while Mary Margaret and I were serving Great-aunt Leonora her dinner, the phone rang and Leo appeared in the doorway to announce that my great-aunt had a call.
"It's Mrs. Hudson from America, madam," he said. I looked up excitedly.
"Well, well, well, my sister finally calls. You'd think she would know the dinner hour here," she said, wagging her head and wiping her lips with her napkin as she rose.
There was a telephone in the drawing room.
"You might as well take this back into the kitchen and keep it all warm, girls," she said nodding at her food.
I was disappointed because I had hoped to speak with my grandmother. Moments later, however, Leo appeared to tell me Mrs. Endfield wanted me to come to the phone. I hurried down the corridor.
"My sister insists on speaking with you, dear," Great-aunt Leonora said. "She wants to be sure we haven't done away with you." She held out the receiver.
"Thank you," I said. "Hello?'
"Is she standing there over you?" Grandmother Hudson asked immediately. I laughed to myself.
"Yes."
"Are you having an absolutely miserable time living there?" she asked.
I knew if I told her the truth, she would get on the first plane to London or have me take the first one home. The truth was that despite the way I lived here, I was beginning to enjoy the school. Hiked my teachers, even Professor Wilheim who treated smiles and compliments as if they were diamonds.
"No," I said.
"You have enough money?"
"And the school? Is it as good as Conor MacWaine bragged it was?"
"I'm enjoying my classes and my teachers are all very talented people. There are so many talented students there, too."
"Just remember that you're one of them," she told me. She hesitated and then added, "My idiot of a doctor had me back in the hospital for a few days, otherwise I would have phoned before," she said.
"Hospital? Why?"
"This contraption is not performing as well as they expected. They may actually have to replace it. I'm thinking of suing someone only I haven't yet decided who it will be. Maybe all of them," she said,
"Are you all right now?"
"I am, as Doctor Lewis puts it, under
observation. Don't worry about it. I'll have their heads eventually," she told me and I laughed.
I glanced at Great-aunt Leonora who was gazing at me with her head tilted slightly, her eyes full of amazement and confusion.
"Your mother called to see how you were doing. I told her to call you to find out for herself, but she pointed out that if she did, it might create some suspicion. Any excuse that fits," Grandmother Hudson muttered. "Jake sends his regards," she added.
"Oh, thank him and tell him I miss him."
"I believe that feeling is mutual. Your name is on his lips so much these days, I feel like I should check to see if you're still here."
I laughed again, and again my Great-aunt Leonora's eyes widened.
"How is my brother-in-law treating you? Like one of the lowly unwashed?"
"Not so bad," I said. "I'll write you a letter," I promised, "and give you all the details about my school and my experiences in London."
"Very well," she said with her characteristic impatience. "Put her on. I'm sure she's breathing down your neck."
"Thank you for calling," I said and smiled at Great-aunt Leonora. "She would like to speak with you."
"I was wondering if she would ask," Great-aunt Leonora said taking the phone. She waited until I left the room before speaking.
Afterward, she returned to the dining room and took her seat quietly. Mary Margaret and I were standing by the door waiting for her. As soon as she appeared, Mary Margaret went into the kitchen quickly to retrieve her food.
"How long did you say you were living with my sister, dear?" Great-aunt Leonora inquired, her eyes narrowing.
"A little over six months," I replied.
"She is certainly very fond of you. You should feel terribly honored. I can't think of too many people Frances is fond of. She was always a stern judge of others and very unforgiving, which was something she inherited from our father. Anyway," she said turning back to her food, "I'm happy for you, my dear," She flashed me a weak smile. For a moment I had the strange feeling that she was actually jealous of the affection Grandmother Hudson showed toward me.
"I appreciate everything she's done for me."
"Yes, I'm sure you do. I've heard more from her about you than I have about her own grandchildren," she continued. "You've met Megan's children, I assume?"
"Yes," I said.
"I've invited them all here many times," she said sadly. "Megan and her husband actually came to England once without stopping by. They claimed they were on some whirlwind trip through Europe. I don't know why they couldn't stop in for a cup of tea at least. I know Victoria is so busy she hardly gets abroad. What about your family, dear?"
"I have a brother in the army. He's stationed in Germany now and may come to see me someday?'
"I hope he does. It's nice to have some family about you," she said wistfully, her voice soft and low. She ate staring at an empty chair to her right and after a moment, it was as if she had forgotten I was there. I returned to the kitchen and didn't come out until Mary Margaret and I had to clear the table. We ate our dinners in the kitchen as usual and then Mary Margaret and Mrs. Chester both left to go home.
The house was unusually quiet. Randall Glenn had asked me to go sightseeing with him on Saturday afternoon. He was coming by to get me after I had completed the morning chores. I was excited about it because it would be my first opportunity to see the famous places like the Tower of London, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace and the like. There were so many things to see and places to go that we knew we couldn't do much more than skim the surface during one afternoon.
For now I thought I would read some of the plays I had been assigned and then go to sleep early. The thought of sitting in that dingy little room was not very appetizing, however, so I fetched my books and went into the drawing room. I was so involved in the first play, entitled A Doll's House by Henrik Ibsen, that I didn't hear my Great-uncle Richard come home. Suddenly, I felt someone's eyes on me and looked up to see him standing in the drawing room doorway, staring. I had no idea how long he had been standing there.
"Oh," I said, nearly jumping up, "I didn't hear you come in. I hope it's all right for me to be in here."
"Of course it's all right," he said. "Why shouldn't it be?"
I wanted to say that from the way Boggs ran the house, I didn't know what was permitted and what wasn't. I could give him a list of ridiculous restrictions an arm long and I had been here barely a week,
"What are you reading?" he asked.
"A Doll's House, a play."
"Yes, I know it well. So then, you are enjoying your schooling?"
"Yes, I am," I said.
He nodded. He looked uncomfortable, standing there speaking with me alone.
"And you're getting around London all right?"
"I'm not doing much more than going to and from the school on the subway. Tube, I mean," I said.
He made a soft smile and nodded.
"Yes, well, I wish I wasn't so busy at the moment. I'd spend a little more time with you and help familiarize you with our country. However, I'm sure you'll do fine. Mrs. Endfield seems pleased with you. I hope it continues to be a successful experience for everyone involved," he said, "and my sister-inlaw's investment will be one that was well made. Continue," he added, waving his hand toward me as if I was practicing on the piano.
He pivoted and continued into the house. Later, when I decided to go to bed, I passed the billiards room where he w
as sitting quietly, smoking a cigar, and bolting out the window into the night. He had his back to the door, so he didn't see me pass.
How strangely alone everyone seemed to be in this house, I thought. Great-aunt Leonora was upstairs in her bedroom and probably didn't even know he was home. What sort of a life did Boggs lead working and living here? No one ever mentioned anyone in his family. I couldn't imagine any woman wanting to be his wife, and if he had a child, I could easily understand the child refusing to admit Boggs was his or her father. Leo was elderly and seemed content to retreat to his small apartment above the garage. Mary Margaret behaved like a snail or a turtle, pulling herself into a shell if I asked anything too personal. I didn't know if she had anything that even resembled a social life.
Was everyone who lived or worked on these grounds and in these buildings staring out their windows at the same darkness, their eyes empty, their minds turned off like lightbulbs? We had more laughter and smiles in our miserable apartment back in the projects in Washington, D.C., I thought.
I walked along quickly but as softly as I would if I had to cross a floor of eggs, afraid to breathe-- the heavy silence that filled the house and everyone's lives.
After I had complained about the hot water and my great-aunt had spoken to Boggs, he did have something done about it the next day. However, it was still erratic so that I never knew when it would be hot and when it wouldn't, but at least I had some. I tested the bath faucet and found it running hot enough for me to take a bath. No matter how I scrubbed the tub, it looked dirty to me. There were rust spots that had probably been there when Sir Godfrey Rogers's mistress lived in this house, I thought. The tub itself looked old enough.
Nevertheless, I filled it and took off my clothes. The water was soothing. I wanted to have my hair washed and nicely brushed out for my sightseeing date with Randall. I scrubbed in the shampoo and attacked my scalp, grinding my fingernails into it because I felt so unclean. Then I leaned back and dipped my head under the water, held it there and scrubbed my hair for a few seconds before sitting up.
At first I didn't notice anything and then I felt the cool breeze and turned to see that the bathroom door was wide open. My heart stopped and started. I just sat there staring at the doorway, waiting for signs of someone. It was quiet and no one appeared. I rose out of the tub and quickly wrapped a towel around my body. Then I practically tiptoed toward the doorway, my heart thumping. I paused and looked out.
Lightning Strikes Page 7