Some people had slipped off their shoes and some were playing footsie with their neighbor. All of their feet stank. As Rose neared the end of the table where the queen sat, she noticed another familiar hem. That of Snail Head. Both her feet and those of the gentleman next to her were involved in an apparently lively conversation. What a hussy! Rose thought, coming up with an old word her mother had sometimes used. Darn, how she missed her mom. If only they could have all been standing there in the courtyard, as she and her dad had been just a quarter of an hour before. Why did people’s lives have to slide by each other, just missing by a nanosecond? Why couldn’t she have gone back with her mom into this century? Could they have all lived happily, if not ever after, then just for a while?
The tear in the hem was quite obvious. She could mend it easily without disturbing the queen. When she was about half finished, the queen slipped off her shoe. Rose could see through the queen’s hosiery that she had corns on her toes. They looked a bit sore, and Her Royal Majesty’s feet smelled like the rest under the table—a damp ripeness, slightly mildewed. So gross, Rose thought. Perfect environment for growing mushrooms. Myles, her school friend, had done a science fair experiment growing mushrooms and gotten second place. She missed home. She missed Myles, Susan, Joe, Kevin, all her best friends, and she missed Marisol!
So as she stitched, she began thinking about the greenhouse. The moist air, the cool shadows, where things stirred and began to grow in the night. Her thoughts reeled back to the little graftling in the greenhouse. She imagined those fragile roots nestling deep in the soil. And then the stench of feet began to dissolve and the forest of legs vanished. The clouds of billowing silks and satins, the boiling talk interrupted by shrieks of laughter at jesters’ pranks, all of that melted away into a blessed silence.
She was back, back in the greenhouse. The only sound was the murmur of the humidifiers and the fans that dispersed the warm air from the space heaters. She tiptoed over to the graftling. It seemed to be all right. She looked at the clock. It was now two minutes after midnight. So she had only been gone three minutes tops. The graftling looked just the same. She crouched down so that her nose was almost touching the cup. She heard a sound from the entry hall. It was the purr of the stair lift. Had Gran come down? She never came down in the middle of the night—not alone. Wouldn’t she have awakened Betty to help her? That was not like Gran.
She waited several minutes now. If it was Gran, which it must have been, she didn’t want to meet her.
After ten minutes or so, Rose went back into her bedroom. She heard Marisol turn over in bed and then yawn.
“Rose?”
“Yes.”
“Where you been?”
“Uh, just got up to go to the bathroom.”
“Oh yeah. It’s so nice having a bathroom all your own.”
“You had to share one?” Rose asked.
“Sure . . . Rosa, I mean Rose,” Marisol said sleepily, then added, “With about ten or fifteen people.” She turned over again and was fast asleep.
Ten or fifteen people sharing a bathroom! Rose thought. She’d die!
Chapter 14
The Blessing of a Blizzard
The ping of a text message coming in woke Rose. She saw that Marisol was sitting up in bed, actually doing homework! A math sheet.
“Was that your phone or mine?”
“Must be yours. I don’t have a cell phone,” Marisol said.
“Oh.” She almost said sorry. But that would be patronizing! She reached for her phone. The text was from Susan. It was 9:45. Early for a no-school snow day. She read the message. A smiley face and a snowman popped up. Susan had an emoji addiction. Hey, coming to your house with my dad. Your gran needs to talk to him.
Really? Then it struck Rose. She knew exactly what this was about. Marisol! Hadn’t Dr. Seeger told her grandmother to contact Sam Gold? You go, Gran! Rose thought. Should she tell Susan that Marisol was here? Better not. Nothing in writing. She turned to Marisol. “We’d better get up. Susan’s coming over.”
“Susan? Susan Gold?”
“Yep.”
“She’s nice. But what will she think when she sees me here?”
“Uh . . .” Rose shrugged. “She’ll think I invited you to spend the night.”
“Oh . . . she thinks I’m such a good friend that you would invite me for the whole night?”
“Yeah, why not?”
Marisol didn’t answer. But Rose felt a twinge of sadness. Did Marisol believe no one would become her friend?
Twenty minutes later there was a knock on the bedroom door.
“Come in.”
“Oh, hi, Marisol.” Just “oh, hi”? Susan didn’t look at all surprised. Her dad must have told her why he was coming. “Your grandmother says she’d like you both to come downstairs to the conservatory.”
“Conservatory?” Marisol asked.
“Just a fancy name for where my grandmother eats breakfast,” Rose explained.
The conservatory with its arching windows and troughs of plants in full bloom was like walking into a garden in midsummer—except for the huge drifts of snow outside. There was a fountain at one end, with Pan blowing on his pipes, where water came out instead of music. The damask roses had completely unfurled and stood like elegant sentries, ushering in the morning light.
Her grandmother and Sam Gold sat at the table. There was a basket of freshly baked popovers, a bowl of fruit, and a platter of scrambled eggs. Marisol’s eyes grew wide with wonder as she took it all in—the food, the blossoming flowers, the trickle of the fountain. Rose felt a wave of embarrassment rising within her. She and her grandmother had so much. How could she ever explain any of this to Marisol, who had so little, even though they both were motherless?
Rosalinda reached out and took Marisol’s hand.
“My dear. There is much to discuss.” Marisol had begun to tremble. A wild, feverish light glazed her eyes. Rose felt as if she might flee instantly.
“It’s okay, Marisol.” Sam Gold now leaned forward.
“No detention!” There was a ragged desperation in Marisol’s voice.
“We want to help you. Your problems are solvable. You just need a little help. No detention. We’ll make sure of that.”
“How?” Marisol barked.
“Sit down, girls,” Gran said.
Sam Gold now turned to Marisol. “Let me tell you some good news, Marisol.”
“Good news?” A look of bewilderment crossed her face.
“Indeed. Little China was raided last night.”
“Raid.” Marisol gasped. “There was a raid?”
The word reverberated in Rose’s head. Her father’s voice urging her to leave. Look, Rose, there is absolutely no telling what might happen. How soon the raids might start.
“Yes, they were raided. Wasn’t it lucky that you were here and not there?” Marisol turned her head toward Rose as if to give silent thanks.
“But the coyotes?” she asked. Rose and Susan winced.
“That is going to be settled very soon.”
“How?” Marisol said.
“If you give us their names, it will be settled. I already have a list of suspected coyotes.”
“How?” Marisol said again. There was a staunchness in her voice.
Sam Gold looked over at Rosalinda. Something unspoken transpired between them. Rosalinda nodded slightly.
“Rose’s grandmother is in a position where she can satisfy your debt to these people.” Marisol looked at Rosalinda in complete bewilderment.
“Why?”
“Many of us have been migrants at times in our lives. It is not a crime,” Rosalinda replied simply.
“I am not a crime,” Marisol whispered to herself, as if this notion was strange and exotic.
“No,” Rosalinda said firmly. “You are not a crime.”
Sam Gold leaned in closer to Marisol. “You see, Rosalinda will not simply pay your debt, but she shall also become your sponsor.”
&n
bsp; “Sponsor! I have a sponsor!”
“Absolutely,” Rosalinda said.
“And school?”
“You have the right to go to school as soon as I file sponsorship papers. The blizzard is a blessing, I think. Schools will be closed for at least two days and then Christmas vacation starts. That gives me time to get the papers in order and file for you. By the time school starts again, I think you’ll have all you need.”
Rose grasped Marisol’s hand. “This is so great, Marisol!”
A fragile smile played across Marisol’s face. She then turned to Rosalinda. “Very nice of you, very good of you, Mrs. Ashley.”
“Oh, you can call me Rosalinda, child. If I’m your sponsor, you can’t be calling me ‘Mrs.’”
“Thank you,” Marisol said softly, and looked down at the napkin in her lap.
There was the ping of a text coming in. Susan pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked at it.
“Oh, it’s Joe; he and the guys are going sledding. We should go.”
“Neat!” Rose said.
“Want to go sledding, Marisol?”
“I only have these clothes.”
“Oh gracious!” Rosalinda exclaimed. “Rose, go get Calvin. We have to get this girl some warm clothes. He can drive you if the roads are open.”
“The roads to the mall are always open. Are you kidding, with ten days until Christmas? I don’t think they’d close,” Susan said.
“That’s set, then; you girls go shopping. I’ll give you my credit card. Do I have to do something so Rose can use it?” Betty had just come into the conservatory.
“Gran, remember, you already arranged that. I have my own now.”
“And I,” Sam Gold said, “will treat for lunch. But no Little China.” He laughed.
“Text Joe back, Susan. Tell him we’ll be there by two for sledding.”
“Do you need Calvin to drive you over for sledding?” Rosalinda asked.
“No. We can walk there in the snow from here.” She turned to Marisol. “We’ll get you snow pants, boots, and a parka. And a few other things too . . . is that okay, Gran?”
“Of course—the child isn’t going to sled every day from now until the snow melts. Get her everything she needs—pajamas, underwear . . .” Rosalinda paused. “Cute outfits,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
“Oh, Gran, you really are the best.” Rose popped up and gave her grandmother a big hug and a kiss. Rosalinda beamed.
“Is it hard?” Marisol said as they trudged to the top of Tenny’s Hill at Marian Park, dragging the sleds they’d bought at the mall.
“Oh no, not at all,” Susan said. “Look, there goes Myles.”
“In his wheelchair?” Marisol said.
“No, Kevin and Anand help him out of the wheelchair onto that saucer, and he just slides on down in it.”
“Hi, Myles!” Rose yelled, and waved to him as the saucer spun in slow circles down the hill.
“Hi!” Joe limped up.
“You got a snow-proof cast, I see,” said Rose.
“I think they all are these days. But I can sled,” Joe replied.
“Too bad you can’t skate yet. Look, they cleared the ice on the lake for skating,” Rose said.
“Let’s get started,” Susan said, then flopped herself down on a sled and took off.
“So fast!” Marisol said. “I don’t know, Rose.”
“Oh, it’s fun. You want to go with me the first time?”
“How do you do that?”
“I’ll just get on the bottom and you can be on top of me. I’ll steer. Not much to run into, though.”
Just as they were arranging themselves on the sled, Carrie and Lisa and Jenny, the sixth grader, came up.
“Well, look who’s here!” Carrie drawled.
“Who?” snapped Rose. Jenny’s hair was pink, just like Lisa’s.
“Our leetel amigo.” She began speaking in an exaggerated Spanish accent. “Where you been, Marisol?”
“None of your business, Carrie. Don’t pay any attention to them, Marisol,” Rose muttered, and shoved off.
She heard Marisol give a squeal as the sled sailed down and felt her grip her shoulders tight. The cold bit their faces but Marisol was laughing all the way.
“So fast!” Marisol gasped as they slowed to a stop. “I can do it by myself. I think.” She walked to the top pulling the sled, and saw Myles.
“Hi, Myles!” Marisol said. “Did you see us?”
“Sure did.” Anand and Kevin were pulling him on his saucer up to the top of the hill.
Carrie’s words rang in her ears. She had to admit what Carrie said rattled her. She hoped that Sam Gold could get those papers going and Gran could become Marisol’s sponsor soon. She was relieved not to see them when she was back at the top of the hill.
Susan came up to them. “How’d you like it, Marisol?”
“I loved it. No snow in Bolivia.” She went over and took the third sled they had brought, flopped onto it, and started down the hill like a pro. Susan started to go toward her sled.
“Wait a minute, Susan,” Rose called out.
“You look worried. Something wrong?” Susan said.
“Not sure. It’s just Carrie and Lisa and Jenny.”
“Oh yeah, Jenny seems to have replaced Brianna. So what?”
“They came up and . . .” Rose repeated Carrie’s teasing remark.
“She said that?”
“Yep, and it worries me.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry. They just need a new target now that they got in trouble with Joe’s skating accident.”
“But that’s just the problem. Don’t you see? Marisol can’t afford to be their target. She’s . . . she’s really vulnerable.”
“Yeah, but you know my dad’s working on it.”
“How fast do you think he can get those papers and get Gran to be her sponsor?”
“I don’t think it should take that long.”
“I hope not,” Rose said.
“Look, here comes Marisol up the hill. For someone who had hypothermia yesterday, she sure is making a fast recovery. She’s tough.”
“Yeah,” Rose said, thinking of what Dr. Seeger had said about Marisol walking or riding on train tops all the way here. Yeah, she’s tough, all right.
The shadows grew longer. Down by the lake some families had built a fire in the firepit. Rose, Marisol, and Susan dragged their sleds toward it. A man was poking the logs a bit and looked up as the girls approached. It was their homeroom teacher, Mr. Ross. “Oh, I see you’re all here studying the word list for the test! Want some hot chocolate?”
“Sure,” Susan said. “Uh . . . with alacrity, Mr. Ross.”
“Oh my goodness, extra points for that!” He laughed. They sat on stumps with perhaps a dozen other people, sipping the hot chocolate from paper cups.
“Look at that!” One mother with a young child on her lap pointed toward the lake. Someone was skating across in long sweeping backward strides. The skater lifted her back foot from the ice; then, springing from her forward leg, she shot straight up into the air and landed as softly as a downy feather. Her own shadow stretched out across the lake. Quiet fell on the circle of people warming themselves by the fire as they watched, mesmerized by the skater. She was like a liquid diamond cutting figures in the ice.
“It’s Brianna.” Joe sighed. “She’s such a beautiful skater.”
“With a twisted heart,” Susan said grimly. For it was Brianna who had been behind the sabotage of Joe’s skates, causing him to fall and break his ankle so he couldn’t skate in the Snow Show. Of course, Brianna herself had been banned from the Indianapolis Skating Club.
“She has no place else to skate, I guess,” Joe said. His voice had a slight tinge of sadness.
“She got what she deserved,” Rose said.
Brianna skated on and on, not seeming to be aware in the least of the people who were watching her. She appeared to be wrapped in a hidden music that only she could
hear, in a magical dream of frost and late-afternoon shadows.
Chapter 15
The Longest Night
There were many more days of sledding and going to movies. She and Marisol had gone and picked up a Christmas tree with Calvin. He set it up in the library and together they decorated it. Her grandmother watched them while sipping a glass of sherry—just one glass on these cold winter nights. She called it her winter constitutional. She seemed somewhat more distracted than usual and she began humming a song.
“Lovely song, Mrs. Ashley—I mean Rosalinda,” Marisol said as she hung up a glittering silver ball. “What’s it called?”
“‘Greensleeves.’ Very old song. Oh, you should have heard him sing it.”
“Him?” Rose asked.
“Henry, to Anne Bo . . .” Rose flashed her grandmother a terrified look. She sensed in an instant what she had been about to say. Henry VIII to Anne Boleyn. Somehow she knew that he was the composer of this song. Perhaps Princess Elizabeth had mentioned it. Her grandmother had spoken only once of the times she had “gone a-wander.” That was several weeks before Christmas, when Rosalinda had been in the hospital. She had confessed that Rose, like herself, had the gene. You see, you got the gene. . . . Richmond was my first visit. Hung about there for quite a while.
My mom had the gene too, I think, Rose had replied.
Yes, she did. It’s why she and I had a falling out. I tried to stop her from going back. All I could imagine for her was heartbreak. It was a mistake. And so her grandmother vowed never to stop Rose from going back. Rose, she had said, I shall love you through all time. . . . Through every century imaginable.
But as Christmas approached, Rose felt an increasing tug on her heart. Her father. As much as she had come to love her gran, wouldn’t it be wonderful to celebrate Christmas with her father, and to see Franny again? She had grown quite close to Marisol, but there were so many things she could not share with her, and she sensed that Marisol felt the same. But the one thing they had in common was that they both desperately missed a parent. There were times in the night when Marisol called out for her mother, restless in her sleep.
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