Nell's Festival of Crisp Winter Glories

by Glenda Millard

  By the time Anik came back, Scarlet had already ruled columns on a piece of paper and had written headings above some of them.

  ‘Perry wants to organise a dance,’ she explained to Anik. ‘An old-fashioned one where you dance with a partner.’

  ‘And music,’ Perry reminded her.

  ‘Oh yes, we’ll need a band,’ said Scarlet.

  ‘And the girls and ladies have to come dressed up in pretty clothes,’ added Saffron, patting her hair and gently shaking her head so the glass diamonds on her earrings trembled like teardrops. Her lipstick had got a bit smudged by then, but she stood up and did a twirl so the others could admire the swirling skirts of her dancing dress.

  ‘And it is a very big secret from Grandmother Silk,’ said Mr Kadri.

  ‘Oh yes, that’s important,’ said Saffron.

  ‘Keeping it from Nell is probably going to be the hardest part of all.’ Scarlet sighed.

  Everyone in Cameron’s Creek knew Nell and Nell knew most everything that happened in Cameron’s Creek.

  ‘If it’s going to be a surprise for Nell, how will we let other people know about it?’ asked Anik.

  When there was going to be an event in Cameron’s Creek, people usually put flyers up at Elsie’s post office and in the window of the Colour Patch Café and on the notice boards at Saint Benedict’s Church and the railway station.

  ‘We’ll have to put flyers in people’s letterboxes I suppose,’ said Scarlet.

  ‘Okay, so let’s make a guest list,’ said Saffron. ‘It’s your idea, Perry, so is there anyone you’d especially like to invite?’

  ‘Jenkins,’ said Perry, watching Scarlet’s face carefully as she wrote Jenkins’ name on top of the list. But he couldn’t tell what she was thinking so he added, ‘And Melody and Sunday.’

  Sunday Lee was Perry’s other mother. The one who’d been afraid when she discovered Perry was growing inside her when she was only sweet sixteen. Sunday and Melody were always invited to the Silks’ celebrations.

  ‘Of course,’ said Scarlet, adding the two names to her list. ‘We’ll send their invitations in the mail.’

  Before too long there were three pages filled with names. Then Scarlet looked at the time.

  ‘We’ll have to stop soon,’ she said. ‘It’s getting late and we don’t want the others to start worrying about where we are.’

  ‘But we’ve only done one list!’ said Saffron. ‘There’s heaps more planning to do.’

  ‘We’ll have another meeting next Saturday,’ answered Scarlet.

  ‘Next Saturday — that’s ages away. Couldn’t we have one sooner?’

  ‘I’ve got an assignment due at the end of the week, so I won’t have time,’ said Scarlet grumpily.

  ‘Maybe we need more helpers,’ said Anik. ‘What if we all brought someone else along next week? Then we could make a list of tasks and ask for volunteers. That would make it easier for everyone.’

  At 5:00pm the following Saturday, Mr Kadri closed the door of the Colour Patch Café and stuck a sign in the window. ‘Closed for private meeting’ it read. Then he and Anik pushed four tables together.

  This time, it wasn’t just Perry, Saffron, Scarlet, Anik and Mr Kadri at the meeting. All the other Silk children were there, together with Layla and her parents, Mr Jenkins, Perry’s teacher, Miss Cherry, Mr Fairchild the butcher, Elsie-from-the-post-office, Grandma Mosas, Uncle Tansil, Auntie Shim and Auntie Janda, Mr Kadri’s brown-eyed wife, Sergeant Teddy Wilson, Doctor and Mrs Larsson and the preacher. Annie and Ben had taken Nell for a drive in the Bedford.

  Scarlet was in charge again. She liked being in charge of things, but she invited Perry to sit beside her at the head of the row of tables.

  ‘I’ve made a list of what needs to be done, so I’ll read it out. If there’s a task you’d like to help with, please put your hand up and I’ll write your name beside it.’

  By the time Scarlet got to the end of her list, Miss Cherry had offered to hold lessons for people who wanted to learn how to dance or to practise before the event. Uncle Tansil, who worked at the smallgoods factory, said he’d ask his employer to donate a ham and Mr Kadri’s brown-eyed wife volunteered to make it into pinwheel sandwiches for supper.

  Hilde Larsson said she would make Lussekatter buns and Violet asked Amber to make an Armenian Love Cake.

  The preacher offered Saint Benedict’s hall as the venue for the dance and Mr Fairchild agreed to give Layla and Griffin as much butcher’s paper as they needed to make paper chains and Japanese lanterns.

  The Rainbow Girls put their hands up to make the invitations and Elsie-from-the-post-office said she’d have them delivered. And still there were people who wanted to help but hadn’t been given a job.

  ‘I’m sure we’ll think of other jobs that need doing,’ Scarlet said, ‘but let’s see if we can organise some musicians now.’

  For a few seconds, no-one said anything, then Mr Jenkins put up his hand.

  ‘I suppose I could play the bagpipes,’ he said.

  Perry Angel didn’t know what to do. Everything had been going so well, but he didn’t want Jenkins to be in the band. He couldn’t let that happen. Jenkins had to dance with Nell! Surely Scarlet must know about the peaches and the look of wishfulness in Nell’s eyes. But Scarlet just went ahead and wrote Jenkins’ name on her pad and suddenly Perry wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake. He could feel his cheeks growing hot. What if Jenkins didn’t want to dance with Nell?

  ‘I’ll put Daddy’s name down too,’ said Scarlet. ‘I’m sure he’ll play the harmonica.’

  ‘Nils will play his violin,’ said Hilde Larsson, nudging the doctor.

  Sergeant Wilson said, ‘I can play the squeezebox. I’m a bit rusty now, but I’ve got a few mates who used to play in a dance band.’

  ‘Can they play the beautiful Tennessee Waltz, Sergeant Wilson?’ asked Saffron.

  ‘They could play anything!’ said Sergeant Wilson. ‘I’ll get in touch with them. I’m pretty sure they’ll help out.’

  ‘Good!’ said Scarlet.

  Then Jenkins said, ‘In that case, Scarlet, would you mind crossing me off the list? Sometimes nowadays I get short of breath playing the bagpipes and besides … I’d really like to have a dance.’

  ‘That’s okay, Mr Jenkins,’ said Scarlet. ‘It sounds like we’ll have enough musicians without you.’

  Scarlet and the others kept talking, but Perry wasn’t listening. He looked down to where his friend was sitting. Jenkins didn’t seem to be listening either. He was folding a paper serviette into tiny triangles. Perry wondered if he was trying to remember the last time he danced and if it was with his Juliette.

  Jenkins had shown Perry a photograph of himself and Juliette on their wedding day. Juliette wore a lace wedding gown with a train as long as the church and she carried a bouquet of tulips. Jenkins was dressed in a pin-striped suit, with a sprig of lily of the valley in his buttonhole.

  Just like Nell and Johnny, he and Juliette had been sweethearts since they were very young. Jenkins told Perry he had had many empty hours when his Juliette died and that becoming Perry’s personal assistant at school was one of the best things that had ever happened to him. Perry hoped with all his heart that dancing with Nell would be another best thing.

  4. The Bluephyre Pencil and the Little Beads of Sweat

  On Sunday morning, Perry Angel chose a pencil from his tin of seventy-two. Its name was Bluephyre and it was the colour of a fairy wren. Bluephyre was shorter than the other pencils because it was Perry’s favourite. He used it when he and Nell wrote haiku. But on this morning Perry didn’t want Nell to see what he was doing, so he put Bluephyre in his pocket and took it to Annie’s studio.

  Keeping a secret from Nell was new and strange to Perry. When he was no-one’s child, he could not have imagined living with someone you could ask anything of, tell anything to. But Nell was even more than that. She could read your heart simply by looking into your eyes. So could Annie. Perry loved
being with Annie in the mud-brick studio Ben had built for her. Her paintings on the walls were peep-holes into paradise, and the world outside was filled with Sunday morning sounds. Once Perry had thought of what he wanted to write with his Bluephyre pencil, Annie helped with the spelling.

  We are going to have a proper dance for Nell

  at Saint Benedict’s hall.

  It will start at 7 o’clock on the 15th day of August,

  because that is Nell’s birthday.

  We would like you to come and wear your

  special dancing clothes.

  There is going to be real music and supper.

  Please tell Mister Kadri at the Colour Patch Café

  if you are going to come.

  You can tell him if you want to be a helper too.

  If you can’t dance, Miss Cherry will teach you.

  Please do not tell Nell any of this,

  because it is a very big secret.

  From the Silk family

  When Perry had finished writing, Annie squeezed him tightly against her old jumper, which was the colour of love. Happiness hummed inside them.

  On Monday, Scarlet took the invitation to school and asked her social studies teacher if she would mind making some copies. Mrs Ogilvy made a whole packet of yellow paper into invitations. Then she volunteered to be a helper.

  On Tuesday after school, Layla, Griffin and Perry took the invitations to the post office. Elsie promised to have them delivered on Wednesday and then she helped Perry up onto the long-legged stool at the counter near the parcel string, so he could put tiny pictures of the Queen on the corners of the two invitations that were in envelopes. Afterwards, the children went outside and Perry slid the letters into the golden slot in the red brick wall of the post office. First Melody’s, then Sunday’s.

  Perhaps it was because there hadn’t been a dance in Cameron’s Creek for so long, or maybe because Nell was so loved, but whatever the reason, many people wanted to help. Mr Kadri rang the preacher on Thursday morning, worried that if everyone who’d been in touch with him came to the next meeting, the Colour Patch Café might not be big enough. The preacher said they were welcome to use Saint Benedict’s hall, where there were long tables, plenty of chairs, a stage with curtains either side, and shiny silver heaters, high up on the wall, which glowed as bright as oranges when you pulled a chain.

  On Friday evening, Ben said, ‘I’ve got a fancy for some mineral water, Nell.’

  Ben always had a fancy for mineral water. He liked to drink it with a dash of home-made lemon cordial and a sprig of mint.

  ‘How about you and I go for a drive to Tipperary Springs tomorrow and fill our bottles?’

  Thirty minutes away from the Kingdom of Silk, a narrow track tunnels through the mist. It winds down between the ghostly candlebark trees to a small, shining pool, surrounded by towering rocks. It is the sort of place where you might expect to see milk-white beasts with barley-sugar horns grazing on velvet moss, or thumb-sized folk rowing lily pads across a stream.

  You will find Tipperary Springs marked on a map, but the Silk children call it the Valley of the Unicorns. In this silent, secret place, crystal-clear water seeps up through the ancient earth and weeps quietly from cracks in the rocks. Even on the hottest of summer days, the water is ice-cold. It sparkles with mystery and tastes of magic. The old people who belong to this part of the land say the water is earth’s tears for all she has lost. They say that once you have sipped from the weeping water you will see things as they should be.

  The Silks capture spring water in screw-topped bottles that they keep in a wooden crate in Ben’s shed especially for the purpose. The water magic is so strong that even when the bottles are empty, it coats the glass with a rusty film.

  When Ben mentioned Tipperary Springs, Perry was washing dishes, Griffin was drying them and Layla was doing the putting away. Perry looked around quickly. Tipperary Springs was one of his favourite places. But just as he was about to ask Ben if he could go along, Griffin poked him in the ribs and shook his head fiercely. It was so unlike Griffin to do anything fiercely that Perry suddenly remembered about the meeting and kept his mouth firmly closed.

  ‘What about the children, Ben? They love going to the Valley of the Unicorns,’ said Nell.

  Ben was not prepared for this. He said nothing and Perry felt little beads of sweat growing in the place where his moustache would be when he was as big as Ben.

  ‘Sorry, Nell, but we can’t go,’ said Layla. ‘We’ve got secret children’s business to do.’

  ‘Oh my, secret children’s business!’ said Nell and her eyes grew as round as an owl’s. ‘I’m sure it’s very important then.’

  ‘It is,’ said Layla.

  Annie and her children were first to arrive at the Colour Patch Café, where Mr Kadri was waiting to redirect volunteers to Saint Benedict’s. The chairs were quickly filled, some with volunteers, others with people who had been persuaded to come by their wives, children or husbands and some with people who were simply curious to find out more about the dance.

  Scarlet was in charge again. Perry sat beside her, but it was hard to concentrate on what she was saying, because he kept wondering if Nell and Ben had seen any unicorns yet.

  Mr Kadri handed Scarlet a piece of paper.

  ‘It is all the people who want to come dancing, Miss Crimson. Mrs Kadri has tallied them up on her calculating machine and there are very many.’

  Scarlet looked at the names on the list.

  ‘There are a lot!’ she said. ‘And it’s less than a week since we sent the invitations out!’

  The committee checked to make sure there were enough volunteers for all the tasks that needed doing. But there were far more volunteers than jobs and some people seemed disappointed when they weren’t given tasks to do.

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Mr Kadri, ‘instead of just a dance, we should have a whole festival for Grandmother Silk!’

  5. A Measure of Happiness

  Suddenly everyone was talking at once. It was hard to tell if Mr Kadri was serious or not, but people began to imagine what it would be like if he were.

  The shop verandas would be decorated with twinkling fairy lights, the way they were at Christmas time. Paper lanterns would float like sailing ships on the moon-spangled sea of night.

  Annie and Indigo imagined an art exhibition. Layla imagined a fairy-floss machine, toffee apples and donkeys pulling children in brightly painted carts. Others saw a lucky dip, a merry-go-round, egg-and-spoon races.

  Mrs Kadri dreamt of market stalls on the footpath. She saw Grandmother Mosas and aunties Shim and Janda selling pretty baskets they’d woven from grass and reeds, and Uncle Tansil’s carved wooden boats with masts of whittled sticks and torn sheets for sails.

  Scarlet could see herself dancing with Anik, in a long, red velvet dress and black satin evening gloves.

  When an idea is warmed by the sun of hope and watered by imagination, it can become almost real and true in a person’s mind. Perry’s idea about the dance was so real to him that when he told his family about it, they also believed, and told their friends. Now Saint Benedict’s hall was like a glasshouse — there were many seeds sprouting in the warmth of people’s hearts and blossoming in their thoughts. It was a garden of ideas.

  ‘I think we should have a short break while the committee discusses these ideas with Perry,’ announced Scarlet. ‘After all, it was his idea about a dance for Nell that started all this.’

  So Saffron, Scarlet and Mr Kadri consulted with Perry while everyone else had afternoon tea. Annie brought a tray of refreshments for the committee. Mr Kadri poured tea from one of his tall silver teapots. Annie passed paper napkins to everyone and then scones topped with jam and cream. The committee members tasted the sweet ruby jam, and the vanilla cream coated their throats, and the choice seemed much simpler: how much happiness did they want? A few hours at a dance or a whole festival full?

  ‘The problem is,’ said Scarlet, ‘it’s hard en
ough organising a dance without Nell knowing. If we go ahead with the festival, how can we possibly keep everything secret?’

  ‘We don’t need to,’ said Annie as they licked their sticky fingers. ‘In fact, having a festival might make it easier to keep the dance a secret. If we tell Nell about the festival, she’ll make herself so busy helping, she won’t have time to wonder what the rest of us are doing.’

  The planning committee announced their decision to great applause.

  ‘Before we conclude the meeting, we’d like to think of a name for our festival,’ said Scarlet.

  But while there were plenty of suggestions, none of them seemed quite right.

  ‘Layla’s good at making up names,’ said Griffin. ‘She’s the one who thought of calling Perry’s welcome celebration the Day of Cake and Thankfulness.’

  Layla was pleased to be asked, but this time even she couldn’t think of a suitable name.

  While the others were trying to decide, Perry was thinking about how happy Nell would be when her birthday arrived — even without the festival. Red galoshes, crunchy footsteps, frosted grass and fence diamonds were just a few of Nell’s favourite things. Her fondness for them came from being a winter baby, she said. She even had a special name for them. Perry smiled when he thought of it. He leant closer to Scarlet, who was writing down the names people were suggesting for the festival — boring things like the Cameron’s Creek Winter Festival. He curled his fingers around his lips like a tiny trumpet and whispered soft as a snowflake into Scarlet’s ear.