Grandma Robot

by Risner, Fay

“In the attic,” came Henie's far away voice. “You need something, dear?”

  “No, that's fine. Just wondered where you were,” Karen called back.

  This seemed like as good a time as any to check out Henie’s room while she wasn't in it. Amy slipped upstairs and opened the bedroom door easy to keep the hinges from squeaking.

  She turned in a circle at the foot of the bed, searching for anything different. The fact was the whole room was different. She didn't remember any of the accessories being there yesterday.

  A bright Around The World quilt covered the old fashion Jenny Lind bed. It's rows were comprised of tiny colorful squares like most patchwork quilts made from left over scraps in a sewing basket.

  Along the wall, next to the chest of drawers was the largest wicker basket Karen had ever seen. It was about seven feet long with a thick coating of shiny shellac which made the basket shine with a clear sheen.

  The basket set on a wooden platform with four wheels. Karen wrapped her fingers around the basket rim and pulled. The basket rolled easily toward her on the red and white linoleum. Behind the basket on the floor, leaning against the wall was a long wicker lid.

  Karen peered in the basket. It had a black leather pad lining the bottom. The pad was cracked in spots from heavy use, but what kind of use? She couldn't image what a basket like this one was used for. It would take an awful large family to use a seven feet basket to take laundry out to the clothes lines.

  It's odd she didn't notice the basket when she had been in the room before. Something that large should have stuck out in her memory. The wooden rocker hadn't been by the window, either. How did that get there?

  On the floor in front of the rocker was an oval, braided rag rug in bright colors. It was new looking.

  Karen peeked into the hall to see if the robot was near. The coast was clear so far. She better get on with her search before Henie caught her snooping.

  She twisted the clear glass knob on the closet door and opened it. The clothes pole held several flowered cotton dresses with a solid colored apron to match the flowers in each dress just like Henie said.

  One hanger had on it a gray wool coat with large, dark gray buttons. Two pairs of SAS shoes lined up under the clothes, a white pair and a tan pair. That made three pair of shoes, counting the black pair Henie had on.

  That's an awful lot of clothes to be stuffed in the small satchel. What was missing in the closet was the teenie bopper outfit and tennis shoes. Karen squatted and pulled on the satchel's zipper. Inside the satchel was the neatly folded teenie bopper outfit. Surely, the tennis shoes were underneath the clothes.

  Karen closed the closet door quietly and surveyed the room again. She did a double take at the embroidered sampler of her house hanging on the wall above the bed. Obviously, she hadn't inspected this bedroom real close, but she thought she'd have noticed the sampler when she was in here before. Oh well, maybe she overlooked the picture, but she'd have remembered the large basket and rocker against the wall. There was no way to not see that wicker monstrosity.

  She closed the door and stood at the base of the attic stairs. “Henie, I think I'm going for a walk to get some fresh air.”

  Henie appeared and started down the attic stairs. “That sounds like fun. I'll come with you, dear. I can always use some fresh air after being in this stuffy attic.”

  “Come along then,” Karen said.

  Once they were off the front porch steps, Henie asked, “Which way are we walking?”

  “Doesn't matter to me. You pick,” Karen said.

  “All right, let's go look in the pasture for wild flowers. I could put a bouquet on the table.” Henie walked over to the pasture gate and stopped. Karen opened it, and they went through.

  “Don't forget to shut the gate tight, dear. We don't want to let the farmer's cows out,” Henie ordered.

  Karen's brow furrowed. “I've never seen cattle in the pasture. How do you know cows are in here?”

  “I've saw them from my bedroom window. After dark, the cows graze along the fence. I hear them snip sniping away as they munch on the grass,” Henie explained.

  “Okay, I guess I just never paid enough attention,” Karen conceded.

  “Closed up in that office, you can't see a thing going on outside. Nice cows they are. Big Angus ones,” Henie added.

  Karen stopped walking. “Really, you know the difference in cattle breeds?”

  Henie kept walking as she said over her shoulder, “Well, the cows are all black. What other breed is black other than Angus?”

  Karen caught up with her. “I don't know, but now I'm wondering how you know.”

  “Look, a wild violet patch in the grass. I always think the purple and white ones are the prettiest. Don't you?” Henie asked, cupping up her apron tail to carry the flowers as she picked them.

  “Why are you going to the attic so much?” Karen asked.

  “I've been looking for things to furnish my room with. I now have a nice rocker to sit in by my window. A pretty old quilt on my bed and an embroidered sampler above it. The place looks lived in. You should stop in and see,” Henie invited.

  “I did,” Karen said.

  Henie wrinkled her nose. “What did you think of my room?”

  “It looks comfortable and homey,” Karen admitted.

  “The room is homey. Since you went in my room, it's only fair you let me see your room.” Henie sounded edgy.

  Look out. You just upset the robot. “Sure, when we go back in the house you can look in my room if you want to.”

  Henie pointed toward the cottonwood tree grove. “Let's go there. I'll bet we can find meadow phlox in those trees. That's a good smelling, little, purple flower.”

  Karen walked along with her, thinking she wasn't about to bet. She had the feeling Henie would win every time. Henie certainly had good memory recall. More than the robot needed.

  As soon as Henie had the wild flowers in water, she placed the drinking glasses on window sills in the kitchen, one on the table and one on living room lamp table. Wiping her damp hands on her apron, she walked over to the open office door and knocked on the door frame.

  Karen quit typing. “Yes, Henie?”

  “I'm ready to see your room now,” she stated.

  Karen looked from her computer monitor to Henie. The words I don't have time now wasn't going to work on Henie. “All right, let's go. After you, Henie. You know where my room is right across from yours.”

  Henie circled Karen's bedroom with a frown on her face.

  “Well?” Karen asked.

  “You couldn't have a much worse looking bedroom. It's so drab. Your dark brown bedspread is ugly. There's a quilt box full of quilts in the attic where I got mine. We could get you a bright one for the bed.

  Those old yellowed lace curtains have been on that window since the house was built.” When Karen's mouth opened, Henie added, “I'll bet. It's time for them to go. I saw nicer curtains in the attic. They might be a little newer than these old things.” Henie stuck her hand behind one of the curtains and shook her head disdainfully.

  Karen suggested, “I'm game. How about we go on a treasure hunt in the attic and find some things to cheer up my room? I've been wanting to get a closer look at the stuff in the attic anyway.”

  “Can we go right now?” Henie asked.

  “Suits me. Let's go,” Karen agreed.

  Henie glanced around the room again. “Where do you keep your hope chest?”

  “I don't have one,” Karen said.

  “That's not right. What's the matter with your mother anyway? Every girl should have a hope chest. I bet she had one. Matter a fact, I know where that one is,” Henie declared.

  Once inside the attic door, Karen stopped. She looked around in awe at the dusty trunks and cobweb covered boxes stacked tightly over most of the room. “I had no idea the attic was so full of old stuff. I didn’t come up here to see what it was like when I bought the place. I have no idea where to start. Where do we go from
here?

  Chapter 6

  “We can look at the quilts first. Follow me.” Henie took off and led Karen between piles of boxes and trunks. “In this cedar chest is the quilts. It has always been used for a bedding box. Open it, dear.”

  Karen could see Henie's finger marks in the dust on the lid when she opened the chest. Inside were two stacks of folded quilts and the strong scent of cedar. “These are like new and so pretty,” Karen exclaimed. “Why do you suppose they were never used?”

  “Making the quilts was the past time of an old woman just to stay busy and put in her time until she died. I'll bet she put them in this chest and left it set right here. No one was curious enough to look inside until now,” Henie explained. “Now pick out as many as you want for your bed and make sure to get a very bright one for the top cover.”

  Karen took two. The one she wanted for the top cover had red tulips set on white blocks and surrounded with red strips. “Now what about the curtains?”

  “Right behind us in a box.” Henie pointed out a cardboard box perched on a small table.

  The box was full of curtains. Karen picked out a pair of white lacy curtains with a scalloped bottom. “I like these.”

  “I do, too. I bet they were part of a set that hung in the parlor,” Henie said.

  Karen set the quilts and curtains on top the chest. “I want to look at that lamp table under the box.” She placed the box on the floor and studied the table. A small, square, walnut table with a smaller lower shelf attached to the legs, and the claw feet were on glass balls. “Oh my, how neat is that. Would this table look all right in front of my window?”

  “It would. Now we have to find a lamp to put on it,” Henie said and took off to a far corner to the discarded lamp pile. She said in disappointment, “These are so old I don't think any of them will work. Most of them aren't electric.”

  Karen caught up to her. Right away she spotted a porcelain, round, white lamp base with a glass shade that had prisms hanging from the shade. “I like that one.”

  “It's not modern, dear. That lamp used to light with kerosene,” Henie said.

  “It doesn't have to be modern to look pretty on my table. I can buy fuel something like kerosene to put in it. If the electricity goes off in a storm, we'd be all set,” Karen decided.

  Henie smiled. “I think that sounds like a plan. Now I want you to look at the hope chest.”

  Henie walked along the stacks and came to a cedar chest. She opened it up. “This was your grandmother Mary's wedding dress.” The dress was ivory satin with pearls sewed in two rows at the neck and the end of the cuffs just below rows of lace. The skirt was an A line shape all the way to the floor.

  “That is a beautiful gown,” Karen exclaimed.

  “I'll bet that was the dress your mother was suppose to wear when she got married,” Henie said.

  “Did she wear it?” Karen asked.

  “I don't know,” Henie said. “But the dress stayed in Mary's hope chest.”

  That is one of the few things Henie confessed to not knowing. “What else is in there?”

  “Assortment of linens, like sheets, pillow cases with embroidered baskets full of flowers on them to match. Dish towels with the day of the week on them. I forget what else,” Henie said.

  Karen fingered the neatly piled linens. “Why do you suppose Grandma Mary didn't use all these things?”

  Henie hesitated. “I'm not suppose to know, but I'd say Samuel's wife was a bit too picky. Most things weren't good enough for her unless she picked them out. The more I hear about your mother the more she sounds like her mother. That happens usually. Daughters become like their mothers. Anyway when you need a hope chest, I just wanted you to know you have one.”

  “Yes, I'll keep that in mind. Now I best carry some of my treasure down to my room. You can dust the table and air the quilts if you want to help,” Karen said.

  “That's my job,” Henie declared. “Oh, there's a couple other items I'd like brought down. Could we take a couple of the old rockers taken out on the front porch so we can sit out there on nice evenings and watch the sun set?”

  “Henie, that sounds like a good idea. I'll carry them down later,” Karen said. “Let's work on my bedroom first. I'm excited to see how our makeover looks.”

  One day, Karen was right in the middle of writing an important chapter in her book when Henie insisted she stop for lunch. When Karen sit down at the table, the full bowls were overwhelming. She wasn't sure what would have been appropriate to feed crew of field hands in days gone by, but she had the feeling this meal might be it. Also, she had an ominous feeling if she asked, Henie could tell her what foods would be on a working farm's table.

  “My goodness, Henie, why so much food? I really can do with much less to eat,” Karen declared.

  Henie leaned against the counter. Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout. “You work hard. You must keep up your energy.”

  Karen sighed. She wasn't going to be able to out argue Henie when the robot gave her that worried, grandmotherly look. She filled her plate with portions from each bowl. She managed to eat most of the mash potatoes, gravy, fried chicken, green beans, carrots and strawberry Jello salad she put on her plate. All the while, she eyed the dessert on the other end of the table, chocolate cake.

  Karen decided to leave some of the food to have room for the cake. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her full stomach. “Okay, Henie, I give up. I'm ready for a piece of cake.”

  Henie critically stared at the plate. “Didn't your mother ever tell you, children are starving in this world that would love to have half of what you just ate. You should appreciate the food you get and clean up your plate.”

  “Oh, yes, I heard that from my mother. When I ate her food I made sure not to put too big a portions on my plate so I could eat everything. That way she'd let me have dessert,” Karen explained truthfully.

  “Just remember you're the one that filled your plate. It wasn't me holding onto the serving spoons,” Henie pointed out as she scraped the scraps off into a pet bowl.

  She carried the bowl to the back steps and called, “Here kitty, kitty.” She waited a minute and called again, “Here, Sock.”

  No wondered that pesky cat has stuck around instead of going back where he came from, Karen thought. She's been feeding him.

  “Where could that cat have gotten off to,” Henie mumbled. “I better go check in the barn. Maybe the cat didn't hear me.”

  She was down the steps and walking across the yard before Karen got to the screen door. “Where do you think you're going?”

  “To find the cat,” Henie said without stopping. “I thought I'd check in the barn.”

  Karen flew out the screen door and caught up with Henie. “That old barn doesn't look safe. I don't think it's a good idea to go in there.”

  “Nonsense, just because the building needs a few repairs doesn't mean it's unsound,” Henie said.

  “All right, but I'm going with you against my better judgment,” Karen insisted.

  Henie looked put out with her. “You really don't have to if you would rather not.”

  “Yes, I do. You're worth a bunch of money. I don't want Amy to charge me for letting you get broken when she comes to get you,” Karen argued. “I can just see it now. Amy will ask how this accident happened. I say the barn fell in on you. She's really going to like that.”

  “That's not going to happen. I don't intend to repair the barn for heaven's sakes. I'm just looking for Sock,” Henie snapped.

  Careful Karen. She's getting mad. Change the subject. “Why don't you call him Socks?”

  Henie looked perturbed. “It doesn't take human science to come up with the answer.”

  “You mean rocket science,” Karen corrected.

  “Don't always correct me, young lady. In your case, human science is a lot closer to what you might know than rocket science is. How much closer is debatable from all these dump ideas you have,” Henie flipped.

  “F
ine, but the name Socks is much easier to say than Sock so why name a cat that?” Karen insisted.

  “If you had paid attention you might have seen the cat only has one sock,” Henie replied dryly. “Now if you're going with me help me find my cat.”

  The fact that Henie was now calling Sock her cat didn't get by Karen as she unhooked the door. The rusted hinges squeaked and groaned in protest. For a moment, Karen wasn't sure the hinges were going to hold the door in place.

  Karen stood just inside the barn, letting her eyes adjust to the light. Apparently, Henie didn't have the same problem. She walked around, looking the building over and reminisced, “There was a time long ago when I'll bet those stalls held a pair of dappled gray driving horses and two draft work horses.”

  Karen glanced at the stalls with the thought she wouldn't take that bet, either. She'd have to remember to ask her mother what kind of horses had been in the barn.

  Henie headed for a feed manger along the back wall, calling, “Here Sock. Come to me.”

  Karen listened for an answering meow. All she heard were pigeons cooing in the hay loft. A rat skittered behind Henie and burrowed into a pile of hay before Karen had time to squeal. “Henie, let's get out of here. The barn is full of rats.”

  Henie stopped staring in the manger and turned with her hands on her hips. “You live in the country long enough you won't let a few little critters bother you. You will get used to them. Take it from me. I know. Now come over here. I found Sock.”

  Skirting way out around the hay pile, Karen watched around her feet so she didn't step on another rat as she rushed to the manger. “Is that cat sick? If he is, I don't him in the house anymore. You hear me.”

  “Sock isn't sick. She's bringing this old barn back to life. It's been years since an animal gave birth in here, not counting the mice and rats, of course. As a bird fluttered over head, she amended, “Sparrows and barn swallows, too.”

  Karen's mouth fell open. Henie was holding a tiny black kitten. The kitten was so new it didn't have its eyes open. “Sock is a female!”

  “That's right. Look at that pretty litter of kittens. No wonder she didn't want to come when I called. She was busy,” Henie said excitedly. “Here, take this one, and I'll pick another one to hold.” As soon as she handed the kitten to Karen, its face turned ugly, it's claws came out and it sputtered at her.