“Leaves? Where’d she go?”
The cook lowered her voice and took a step closer. “It happened about twenty years ago when she did it...die, I mean. Your Uncle Arthur was so upset, we thought he was goin’ to have a heart attack. Sweet Jesus.”
Randy had her elbow on the table, resting her head on her hand. She now understood why the place was called The Shadows. The whole place reeked of depression and gloom. Talk about a Soap Opera. She watched as Esther turned her attention to scrambling eggs and frying ham slices for breakfast, mulling over what the cook had told her.
After several minutes of digesting all the morbidity, she blurted, “Esther, you didn’t tell me how Elizabeth died.”
The cook, who’d been stooped over the stove, straightened as though in slow motion, set down the spatula she’d been wielding, and wrapped her arms around her ample chest. With a low moan, she began rocking on her heels. Randy watched, mystified. After several minutes of this bizarre ritual, Esther turned and looked at Randy with tears glistening on her round cheeks.
“We don’t talk about that because it’s just too sorrowful. Poor Miss Elizabeth went walkin’ one mornin’ real early...straight into the marsh. They found her shoes and her pearl necklace on the edge. It broke your uncle’s heart. Oh, it was real shockin’ to everybody, Lord knows. They all knew the marriage wasn’t what it should be, but they never dreamed it was as bad as that. Sweet Jesus.”
“I’m not sure I follow you. She walked into the marsh—did she drown or something?”
“Oh, no...she was swallowed by the quicksand and was lost to us forever. Amen.”
A slimy thing slithered down Randy’s back. “Quicksand? There’s quicksand here? You mean she walked out onto the marsh and just sank? She didn’t scream for help or anything? Jeez.”
“No. She wanted to die, I think. She was that upset about somethin’.” Esther grunted. “Here now, you eat some eggs and ham. I can’t talk any more about it. I have to get this here food out to the dinin’ room and onto those hot plates before your aunts and uncles get there and find they have no breakfast. My mouth is goin’ to be locked tighter than a drum if I don’t watch out. I’ll be punished for all the tongue ramblin’ I do. Sweet Jesus. Lord knows I talk too much. Always have.”
Esther placed a warm plate heaped with eggs and ham in front of Randy. Randy stared at the food for a moment, wondering how she was going to manage to eat all of it—she, who usually didn’t eat more than a Pop Tart in the morning. She picked at the food while watching Esther load a tray with platters of eggs and ham. She had a lot to think about—more to digest than mere eggs and ham.
Randy ate in silence, content to sit there while the older lady went about her breakfast preparations. She debated whether to tell the woman what she’d seen out her window late last night or to keep it to herself. Finally, curiosity won and she put down her fork, which she’d been twirling above her plate. “Hey, Esther...”
“Yes’m?”
“What would you say if I told you someone saw a figure fleeting across the lawn late last night?”
The old woman’s eyebrows rose half an inch then lowered. She crossed her arms over her splendid bosom and frowned. “What would I say? Why, I would say, ‘Sweet Jesus’ and then tell that someone that they’d be better off stayin’ away from windows at night and keepin’ themselves where they belonged. In bed. That’s what I would say.”
Randy nodded. “Sure. That’s probably what I would say, too.”
SIX
Randy ate as much as she could then carried her plate over to the sink. She scraped what was left into the garbage to clean her plate when Esther bustled over and scolded.
“Now, child, you don’t do that. I’ll be doin’ the dishes, if you don’t mind.”
“That’s all right, Esther. Our housekeeper at home always has me doing the dishes as well as a billion other chores. I’m used to it. I don’t mind doing my share here.”
“Well, your aunt will mind. You just go out and see the place. It’s a beautiful day, and you could use some fresh air. I been blowing enough hot air to give you the as-the-ma.”
With a grin, Randy relinquished the dishes and went out the kitchen’s back entrance. Although the sun had only just come up, it was already hot and muggy. She took in a deep breath, but it wasn’t satisfying. More like breathing through a thick blanket. So much for fresh air.
She ambled toward the garage, studying the apartment over it. Wondering if that was where the Benets lived, she circled the building. She’d just rounded a corner for the second time when she bumped headlong into a wiry dark-skinned man with thick, curly gray hair.
“Oh. Sorry.” Randy exclaimed.
He caught her with two strong hands and chuckled. “Now, you surely must be missy Miranda. You’re the spittin’ image of your mama.”
“Yeah, I’m Miranda, though I’d rather be called Randy. You must be Esther’s husband, Henry.”
“Yessir, I surely am. Henry Jean Benet. So you already been talkin’ with my missus, have you?”
“Ohhh, yeah. She drowned me in grits and eggs and ham, and now I’m stuffed. So. I just came out to lighten the load and look around. I don’t think anybody else is up yet.”
“Well, that’s good. That’s real good. I know my woman can cook up a storm and thinks evr’body is too thin. Yessir. Now, you look around all you want, honey. It’s a fine place, a fine place...or could be. I’ve been workin’ here for some thirty years now, and I take great pleasure and delight in keepin’ the place lookin’ fine, ’though it’s an uphill battle, bein’ there are fewer dollars around nowadays to spend. Takes quite a bit of money to keep up an old place like this.” He shrugged. “Oh well, can’t solve the world’s problems all by myself now, can I?” He grinned down at Randy. “I’m goin’ to be ridin’ the mower so I can’t take you around, myself. You’re goin’ to have to be on your own. You look old enough to think straight, so there’s only one thing I’m goin’ to say to you, and that’s to stay away from that there marsh. There’s a lot of nasty critters in there...snakes and maybe even a ’gator or two...and the mud will suck you down so’s you’re lost forever.”
“Just like Elizabeth.”
“Hmm, hummm. I bet my missus told you that bit. She sure does like to talk more’n she should. I know that for a fact. But I guess you bein’ kin, it ain’t no real harm. Yes, Missy Elizabeth went out onto that marsh and sank to oblivion. You stay far away from it, and you goin’ be fine, just fine.” Two rows of white teeth appeared and he nodded. “Yes...just fine…”
Randy returned his nod. “Sure. No problem. So, Henry, what I’d really like to do is get to the beach. How do you get there if you can’t cross the marsh?”
“When the tide’s up, you can take a boat through the channels to the beach, or you can drive around the point and get there that way, though that’d be the long way to go.”
“Great. I’ll go by boat. I’ve handled boats all my life. Dad and I went out on Lake Washington or Puget Sound every chance we got.”
The old man scratched his head and frowned. “Well, now…that ain’t for me to say. You’ll have to ask your aunt and uncle about takin’ a boat out.”
Randy winced. “Great. I have a feeling they don’t go to the beach that often, and they’ll probably say no. My aunts and uncles and cousin are totally provincial.”
“Well, I don’t know nothing about that, but they sure’ve had their share of sorrow, Lord knows that. Sometimes my missus says she doesn’t want to work here any more. Esther is real torn in two about stayin’ on. Thing is, she’s been here most her life...doesn’t know anythin’ else...but the darkness gets to her somethin’ real bad sometimes.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Why don’t they cut down some of these trees to let the sunshine in? Then it wouldn’t be so dark.”
“I’m not talkin’ about that kind of darkness, honey. It’s the darkness of evil I’m talkin’ about. Like my Esther says, someone rooted this place long
ago, and no one’s done nothin’ about it since.”
Randy looked up at the old man and their eyes locked. It was Randy who looked away first. An icy finger touched the back of her neck and she shivered. Henry reached out and tousled her hair. “Now don’t you go worryin’ about that stuff. You just enjoy your stay here. Just don’t go walkin’ around alone after dark or anywhere near that ol’ marsh.” He withdrew his hand and walked toward the big riding mower parked by the garage. Randy watched as he started it up and began the laborious process of mowing the extensive grounds.
With a shrug, she headed for a large clump of fragrant pink magnolias, but hadn’t taken two steps, before Aunt Amanda’s clarion call sounded from the wide porch of the stately house. Hurrying over, Randy read with misgiving the apparent disapproval on her aunt’s narrow face. “Yes, Aunt Amanda?” she called as she neared the veranda. “Did you want me for something?”
“Don’t shout, Miranda. Yes, I want you for something. What ever possessed you to go out so early and wander about? I need to know your whereabouts at all times.”
Mentally counting to ten, Randy climbed the stone steps one at a time. She had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything sarcastic. These people were impossible. Her aunt treated her like a child—no worse —like a juvenile delinquent on probation. She looked up at her aunt, squared her shoulders, and said in as level a tone as she could muster, “I’m sorry, Aunt Amanda. I’d no idea I wasn’t allowed to go outside. Back home, I’m used to coming and going whenever I please. I have my own car and…”
“Miranda, this isn’t ‘back home’. We have dangers here that you know absolutely nothing about. No one goes wandering about the place without a reason.”
“Well, yeah, I understand where you’re coming from, but…” she pursed her lips, thought for a moment, then added, “I realize the marsh is treacherous; that the mud could suck you down—like it did Elizabeth—but, really, Aunt Am…”
“Who told you about Elizabeth. I forbid you to gossip with the hired help. How dare you. I will have to speak to Esther and Henry about this. I will not tolerate indiscretion from the people working for me.” The look that swept across her aunt’s face startled Randy. Amanda’s eyes were dark pools of emotion, her cheeks a flaming pink.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Amanda. Please don’t blame Esther or Henry. I want to know as much about my mother’s family as I can, so I asked them a lot of questions. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”
Her aunt’s face softened. “I see—yes, well—I understand.” Her eyes darted about the spacious grounds then returned to her niece. “But please, from now on, whenever you want to know something, ask me, and I will tell you anything you want to know.”
“Fine. There are a lot of things I want to know. First off, what happened to Aunt Miranda?”
Aunt Amanda’s lips became a straight line, and her eyes lowered. Without looking at Randy, she said, “Come into the house, Miranda. I want you to go up to your room and read for a while. Your grandmother is expecting to see you at 11:00, remember? We’ll talk about Miranda when I have time.” She turned on her heel and went into the house.
Randy stared after her aunt, her mouth wide open in disbelief. Jeez. This is impossible. Barbaric. Totally unbelievable. I’m like in a low-budget movie or something. Randy had the urge to throw something.
SEVEN
Randy sprawled across her bed, thumbing through a book she’d found among her mother’s things when a sharp knock startled her. “Come in,” she called. She peered over her shoulder to see Willadee, dressed in a sleeveless white cotton dress, step into the room. “Hi. What’s up?”
“Aunt Amanda says you are to dress properly and promptly for your visit with Grandmarm. You’re not to wear shorts or that awful shirt with I’m worth it on the front.”
Randy bit her tongue to keep from exploding. “Sorry, cuz, I only brought two dresses. I live in shorts, jeans and T-shirts in the summertime. I didn’t know I was visiting royalty.”
“Suit yourself. I’m just telling you what Auntie said.” Willadee flounced out of the room.
Randy rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling fan, which groaned and complained as it did its job. She half wanted to scream and half, to laugh. These people were from another planet. She refused to change her clothes just to visit an old, senile lady lying in bed. This wasn’t the 1800’s and she was no Scarlett O’Hara. So she made waves. So what? She was wearing what she had on. Period.
At 11:00 on the dot, Evangeline came to escort Randy to her grandmother’s room. The elderly maid raised her eyebrows when she saw the shorts but refrained from making a comment. Randy followed her down the left branch of the hallway to a door at the end, right next to a back staircase that Randy hadn’t noticed before. Evangeline knocked on the door, and a voice called ‘come in.’ Randy cringed then straightened her shoulders. It was Aunt Amanda’s voice so now she had to face the dragon, wearing forbidden attire.
Randy entered the large room, cluttered with furniture and bric-a-brac and devoid of natural light or fresh air. The room smelled like medicine, lavender, and something sour. Sitting up against half a dozen plump pillows was a tiny, shrunken old lady with little round black eyes and white frothy hair. Aunt Amanda sat on a chair beside the bed. She frowned when she saw the T-shirt and shorts, but she didn’t say a word except, “Come in, Miranda, and meet your grandmother.” She turned to the old lady. “Mama, this is Miranda, Emily’s daughter.”
Randy approached the frail thing supported by pillows and the vestiges of a strong will. Two burning eyes bored through her. A vein throbbed on the old lady’s temple and Randy found her eyes drawn to it.
“So,” the tiny body croaked, “you decided to come home, did ya?”
Randy’s eyes left the pulsating temple and locked onto her grandmother’s raisin eyes. “I’m here for a visit, if that’s what you mean.”
A thin arm stretched out, and a claw-like hand made fruitless attempts to snatch the air. “Well, what took you so long?”
Randy bit her lip and wrinkled her brow. She glanced at her aunt who nodded for her to continue. She turned a weak smile on the old lady. “Seattle is across the continent, Grandma, but I’m here now, and...and, I’m...I’m happy to meet you finally...after all these years…” She winced at her inane struggle to put together a coherent sentence.
The wizened little being struggled to sit up. “Well, I ain’t happy to meet you. You go on, now. Get out. Get out. You left once and you can leave again. Now, go. Go. Go.”
While Aunt Amanda tried to soothe the agitated woman, Randy made her escape. She flew to her room and almost slammed the door. Throwing herself across the bed, she grabbed a pillow and hugged it. The look her grandmother had given her had been pure malice. Was the tiny old crone insane? She writhed with frustration.
Her door opened and Aunt Amanda strode in. “Sit up, Miranda.”
Randy complied, brushing back the bangs that had fallen in her face. Her aunt sat down on the edge of the bed and folded her hands in her lap. “Miranda, you mustn’t be upset by anything your grandmother said. She is old and senile. She...she mistook you for...for someone else, I think.”
“Obviously. She thought I was your twin, didn’t she?” Randy looked straight at her aunt, sending sparks.
For a minute the woman didn’t speak. Her lips were a thin line, and it occurred to Randy that they were prepping for yet another scene, but after a long pause, her aunt cleared her throat. “Yes, I believe she did. I do not think Mama has forgiven Miranda for running away. It...it hurt her very much.”
“Didn’t it hurt everybody?”
“Yes, yes, it did.” Her aunt stood up. “We’ll have you visit again tomorrow and see if she is in a better mood.”
“Thanks but no thanks. Don’t think I relish facing that old Hobbit again.”
“Miranda, you will refrain from being impertinent. Now, I’ll leave you to your own keeping and we…”
“Aunt Am
anda, I’d like to go to the beach. May I borrow the boat for a while?”
“Miranda, you interrupted me. No, you cannot go to the beach...at least, not today. Your Uncle Colton will have to take you, and he is at work.”
“But Aunt Amanda, the beach is so close...just across the marsh...and Henry said you could get there by boat, using the channels if the tide is high enough. I know how to handle a boat.”
“No, Miranda, it’s out of the question. I can’t risk you taking the boat out by yourself.”
“But Aunt Amanda, I really do know how to handle a boat. My Dad and I have gone out lots of times on Puget Sound and on Lake Washington and Lake Union. I’ve been handling boats since I was twelve. If I show you what I know, would you let me?”
Her aunt pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “Miranda...I don’t think it is a good idea…”
“Why not? I’m going crazy just sitting up in my room all day. I mean, jeez, Aunt Amanda. There’s no TV here, no computer...I can’t just sit in my room. Maybe Willadee would like to go, too. Just let me show you what I know. I’ll prove to you that I can handle a boat. And, I’m a good swimmer, too. I’ve even passed a Red Cross course.”
“I’ll talk it over with Colton and Carolina.”
“Fine. In the meantime, may I borrow the car? With directions, I can take the longer route and we can do the boat when Uncle Colton gets home.”
“That is out of the question.”
“But…”
“Miranda. That is enough. We will discuss this later.”
Randy closed her eyes as her aunt left the room. Anger threatened to erupt like magma. And it was only the first day of thirty-plus more. At that moment if her dad and Phyllis were to suddenly appear, she was pretty sure she’d strangle both of them.
Shade and Shadow Page 4