After cleaning up the kitchen, I struggled to put the ladder back in the garage. Most of the way, I used it like a crutch to keep the weight off my ankle. When that was done, I returned to the kitchen, picked up the packet of letters and went upstairs. I put the letters on my desk, yet strangely I couldn't bring myself to read them yet. Instead, I turned to cleaning the bathrooms, making certain that Geraldine's was spic and span-- just the way she liked it.
I had intended to lie in bed and start another letter, but I was truly exhausted by the time I finished cleaning the bathrooms. Every part of me ached, even my neck and shoulders, and especially my leg, my ankle throbbing.
I prepared for bed and eagerly slipped under the blanket. When I lowered my head to the pillow, I closed my eyes and fell asleep almost immediately, but I didn't stay asleep. My eyes popped open and I stared into the darkness for a moment. I thought I had heard my door open and close. Was it part of a dream? Or was that what had woken me?
A chill started at the base of my neck and trickled down my spine like drips of ice water. In moments, my entire body felt frozen and numbed. I couldn't even raise my head from the pillow. All I could do was listen and wait. The floorboards creaked. I thought I heard what sounded like a skirt rubbing against a leg as someone crossed from the door toward my bed. Shadows darkened. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and then with all my might sat up.
"Who's there?" I cried.
The rain that had fallen earlier had passed, but it had left dark skies and strong breezes in its wake. The wind whistled past the windows. A curtain trembled and then there was only a deep, dark silence. Slowly, I turned and gazed around my room. My eyes were accustomed to the darkness now and shapes became familiar. There was nothing unusual. Nevertheless, I reached slowly toward the lamp on my night table and switched it on. I blinked at the shock of light, but a blast of illumination revealed I was alone.
I allowed myself to take deep breaths again. My lungs seemed so tight, it took a while for my breathing to become regular. Still full of trepidation, I rose slowly, taking hold of my crutches and standing. I listened. The house was always somewhat noisy at night. Pipes groaned, floorboards stretched and tightened, the wind discovering every tiny opening and somehow threading itself through the hallways and in and out of rooms, weaving its body about like a snake made of smoke. Tonight, it wasn't as noisy and the stillness made me imagine a dark creature, holding its breath and waiting in the shadows.
Old habits die hard; before I went to bed I had closed my door just the way I had all my life. I made my way to it, opened it and gazed into the dimly lit hallway. There was no one lurking out there, no sound, nothing. It's all my imagination, I thought. Of course, it would work over- time tonight of all nights. Nevertheless, I couldn't keep myself from going next door to Geraldine's room. That door, too, was closed, just the way I had left it. I stood outside and listened.
This is so silly, so foolish, I thought. I'm frightening myself for nothing. She's gone. I'm all alone. I put my hand on the doorknob. I'll open the door and switch on the light and see she's gone, see that it wasn't all a dream. The girls were really here and we did bury her.
My fingers trembled as I turned the doorknob and opened the door. I stood there for a moment, gazing into the dark room. Then I found the overhead fixture switch and flipped it. Light dropped from the ceiling, washing over the bed, the chairs, the dresser and floors in a ghostly white. The bed was empty and there was no sign of anyone, of course. How ridiculous it was for me to even look, I thought, shaking my head as I turned off the light and closed the door.
I stood listening again, heard nothing unusual, and started back to my room. As I passed through my door- way, I stopped, the chill now rising from my naked foot, up my leg and into my heart. Slowly, I looked down. It was a cold, wet spot of mud. For a moment, I couldn't swallow. I couldn't even look at it.
It's just a spot I missed when I cleaned earlier, I told myself. We must have tracked it in and I just didn't see it. That's it. That has to be it.
But we had taken off our shoes and socks downstairs first, hadn't we? I asked myself.
The mud might have dropped from their hands and arms, I replied to myself, or maybe from my crutches. Where else could it have come from? Stop this. Stop it!
I hurried to the bathroom, scooped up a towel and returned to the spot, quickly wiping and drying it I gazed around the room, searching for any others. There didn't seem to be any. Isn't that strange? a voice inside me asked. No, I said, no, no. It was just a dripping. Nothing. Stop. Stop! I screamed inside. I closed my eyes and embraced myself, squeezing myself as if to keep my fears from escaping my shaking body.
We buried her, I thought. We really did, but was it sinful? Would I be punished? Can her spirit rise and haunt me forever and ever?
I struggled to my feet, closed the door, and returned to my bed. This time when I lowered my head to the pillow, I lay there with my eyes open, waiting, listening. I lay like that almost until the first light of day before my eyelids slammed together like the doors of vaults and shut me in darkness and sleep.
The sound of a phone ringing woke me. It rang and rang and rang. I rose with great effort, every muscle in my lower back and my legs aching, and seized my crutches. The phone kept ringing. The closest one was in Geraldine's room, of course. I hurried to it. It continued to ring. I sat on her bed and lifted the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Oh, thank God you answered," Misty said. "I was beginning to get really scared."
"I don't have a phone in my room. She never let me have one," I said.
"Well, let's get one put in there. So," she added after a very short pause, "how did you sleep?"
"I didn't sleep much," I confessed.
"Neither did I. I just should have stayed. I worried about you."
"Thanks," I said. No one had ever said that to me. "I'll be there in about an hour. Anyone else call yet?"
"I don't think so. They might have and I didn't hear the phone ringing," I said.
"I'll call them. Do you have any bagels? I like a toasted bagel for breakfast."
"No," I said, laughing. Who could think of eating at a time like this? Who, indeed, but Misty.
"I'll bring some. Did you... I mean, can you see out back? Does it all look all right?"
"I haven't checked. Oh," I said. "I forgot to spread seeds last night. I'd better do that today and water the ground."
"I'll help you. Wait for me," she said. "I'm getting up and getting dressed. My mother wanted me to go with her to lunch in Santa Monica, but I got out of it."
"Maybe you shouldn't have."
"Naw, it's all right. She really didn't want me along. She likes to be with her girlfriends and rag on men, and she can't do it as well when I'm there. See you soon," she added
"Right."
I hung up and looked around the bedroom. Nothing was changed; nothing was disturbed. Despite my fatigue and nervousness, I was encouraged by Misty's call and returned to my room and got dressed to go downstairs and prepare some breakfast. It seemed so odd not to have my juice set out beside my cereal bowl already when I got there. Geraldine was always down- stairs before me. It was still not home in my heart, not solid as a truth should be that she was dead and gone. I kept expecting her to appear and to start dictating my daily chores. Geraldine's litany of complaints and self- pity usually ran like a sound track while I had my breakfast.
"Don't slurp your cereal, Cathy. Watch that you don't drip on my clean tablecloth. Don't hunch over like that when you eat. You'll ruin your posture."
Those familiar admonitions circled my head like bees, buzzing in my ears. She didn't have to be here for me to hear them. When would they go away? Would they ever?
I went about setting the table for breakfast, expecting the girls might all come at once. More than ever, I was eager for their company, their chatter, and laughter. I was even looking forward to Star and Jade's verbal fencing.
When the phone rang, I froze
and looked at it. Was it Jade? Star? Would either be calling to say she couldn't come? Would the excuses begin and would they all eventually leave me alone?
"Hello?" I said in a hesitant voice after I picked up the receiver.
"Mrs. Carson?"
For a moment I couldn't get myself to speak. My throat closed.
"It's Tom McCormick at the Unified Central Bank."
"Yes?" I managed, my voice cracking.
"You had asked me to let you know when the final wire transfer from Mr. Carson's account had been credited to your account. That was done late yesterday. Did you want me to have any of the funds shifted to your money market account?"
My throat tightened even more at the reference to my father.
"Mrs. Carson?"
"Yes," I said, realizing this was something my mother would have wanted done. "Please do."
"How much?" he asked.
I had no idea how much had been transferred from my father's account.
"Half," I told him
"Half? Okay. I'll have that done for you. Thank you, Mrs. Carson," he added, and hung up.
Was that wrong? Should I have said to transfer all of the money? Did he think it unusual and did that make him suspicious? Or had I gotten away with it, the first test? I cradled the receiver and stepped back. Maybe I could be Geraldine when I had to. Maybe I would be all right. I stared at the phone, half expecting he would call back to confirm what he had been told, insisting this time that he speak with Geraldine. My heart thumped in anticipation.
The doorbell rang instead, making me jump. Was it Misty? What if it was ...No, I thought. He wouldn't dare come back, would he? The bell rang again and again. I couldn't move. I heard a knock and then the bell. After another moment, I made my way to the front door, sucked in my breath, and opened it.
"Finally!" Misty cried. She had her arms filled with two large bags of groceries. She shot past me into the house. I stood there looking out at the street. It was quiet. No one was paying any particular attention to my house.
"Jade and Star will be coming along," Misty called from the kitchen. "Poor Jade didn't sleep much and has to do a lot of facial repair before she steps out. Star was making sure her brother was all right before she left. She's taking the bus."
Misty continued to unload her bags as I entered the kitchen. Then she turned and took a look at me.
"Ouch," she declared. "You do look like you had a hard night," she said.
"It was pretty awful." I was shocked to hear myself admit the truth.
I sat and told her about my waking up, hearing noises, checking it out, and finding the cold wet mud. Her eyes got wider and wider as I spoke. Then she turned and looked toward the backyard.
"Did you go out there this morning to see if...I mean..." "Not yet," I said. "I couldn't get myself to do it."
She nodded, swallowed hard, and then started toward the back door. She looked back at me. I held my breath and then she opened the door and stepped outside. A moment later she returned.
"It's a mess," she said, looking relieved. "However, she's still where we put her."
I released the air I had trapped in my lungs and sighed, but I wasn't sure whether I was sighing with relief or with regret.
8
Sowing the Seeds
Even though Star came by bus and had to make some changes along the way, she got to my house before Jade. For some reason, Star didn't look as tired as we did from the night before. She poured herself a cup of coffee and bit on a Danish pastry as I told her about my difficult night.
"I was afraid it would be like that for you. We have to stay with you for a while," she insisted. She looked at the clock on the wall. "I thought we all agreed about that and the importance of being here. So where is our illustrious president?" she muttered, and sipped some more coffee. "Maybe she went to get her nails repaired," she added.
Minutes later we heard the doorbell and Misty went to let Jade in.
"Sorry it took me so long to get here," Jade sang as she swept through the kitchen doorway. She was dressed in another designer outfit, her hair radiant and shiny, and her nails freshly polished.
Star winked at me. Anyone could see Jade had spent most of the morning at her dressing table, meticulously applying her makeup, turning herself from just another pretty girl into a teenage cover model.
"But I had a whopper of a nightmare last night and the moment I looked at myself this morning, I knew I couldn't leave the house without some major reconstruction," Jade explained.
She paused and looked at me, her face suddenly contorted in a horrid grimace.
"I dreamed your half sister dug herself out and came to my room. She looked like something from the latest Halloween movie. I had to smother my screams when I woke up. My nerves were so frazzled, I felt like they were all wicks on dynamite sticks," she rattled on breathlessly. Then she paused and collapsed on a seat.
"What a whopper of a nightmare," Misty muttered.
Jade knitted her eyebrows together and scowled.
"Tell me about it. Then I started to worry about us all being arrested and I couldn't get back to sleep for hours and hours. When I looked at myself this morning, I nearly passed out again. My eyes actually had bags under them! Can you imagine?"
"You poor thing," Star said.
Jade missed her sarcasm and got up to pour herself a cup of coffee instead.
"I just threw my outfit away," she continued. "No tailor could fix it and I didn't want to have to explain it to my mother."
She turned and looked at us sitting at the table, gazing down at us as if we were her private audience.
"How are you all doing?"
"Well, it's nice of you to ask," Star said. "Actually, I slept very well."
"You did not, you liar. No one could after what we did." She studied me a moment, her eyes suddenly dripping with sympathy. "Cat, I wanted to call you all night, but I was afraid I'd frighten you. Are you okay?"
"No, she's not okay," Star said. "She had a really miserable night, too. Anyone can take one look at her and see that. We have a lot of planning to do, Jade. If you can come down from your cloud of selfpity long enough to listen and think, that is," she added.
"Boy, you're in a good mood. Don't tell me you slept well, cranky head." She plopped back in the chair and sighed. "Okay, okay. Let's plan. Oh," she said before anyone could say anything else, "my parents have a big meeting today with their attorneys. It's all supposed to come to an end, finally. Maybe my mother will have a big party to celebrate. Consider yourselves invited if she does," she said with a sweep of her hand. She was wearing new rings on every finger of her right hand and a beautiful gold charm bracelet.
"I'll put it right at the top of my social calendar," Star said.
"You really think your mother would have a party?" Misty asked.
"I don't know. She's capable of throwing a bash if she feels she won."
"The bank called for my mother this morning," I said in a voice so hollow and devoid of emotion, everyone snapped their heads around to look at me. "Some funds were wired in from my father's account, part of their settlement, I guess."
"What did the bank want?" Star asked.
"The banker wanted to know how much to put in a money market account. You make interest in that account and it's something my mother always made sure she did," I said. "He asked how much to put in."
"He thought you were her when you talked?"
"I think so I told him to put in half, but maybe I should have said more. The problem is I don't know how much was wired in."
"What did he say?"
"He just repeated it and thanked me and that was that."
"Good," Star said.
"It's not good. What if he calls and asks her to come to the bank to sign something?" Jade followed.
Everyone was quiet. New worries scribbling through the folds in our foreheads. I remembered something.
"I can tell him she's ill and to send it for her signature," I said. "I heard h
er do that once and they didn't question it."
"That's all right, but there'll be a serious problem when something has to be notarized," Jade explained. "You've got to be physically present and have a photo I.D."
"We'll worry about that when it happens," Star said quickly.
"I don't know," Jade said, shaking her head. "It's not going to be easy." She picked at a bagel. "Is this fat-free cream cheese?" she asked Misty.
"Great," Star said as she bit into her bagel.
"I don't like fat-free stuff. It's blah," Misty explained "It's all right for you, but some of us have to worry about our figures." Jade pouted.
"Why is it all right for me?" Misty asked.
"You don't put on weight, obviously. That has to do with your metabolism," Jade continued in her characteristically haughty manner. "All of us aren't as lucky as you," she added.
Misty looked apologetic and hurt.
"I'm sorry. I didn't think of that."
"Fine," Star said. "We'll design a menu that pleases Jade, but for now, let's get to some of the important problems, if that's not too much trouble."
"Diet is important," Jade insisted. "And exercise. I'll be in charge of that," she volunteered. "Obviously, I know the most about it, so let me decide what to buy at the supermarket from now on."
"What don't you know the most about?" Star asked, leaning back and folding her arms. She could turn her eyes into small, ebony pearls and hold her lips in what looked to be half a smile and half a smirk of disgust.
"I'm just trying to make efficient use of our strengths," Jade defended.
"I want to be in charge of redecorating," Misty piped up before Jade" could add anything to her own list of powers.
"Redecorating?" I asked. "What do you mean?"
"This house is gloomy. It needs color, life. It's going to be our headquarters, right? We should change the curtains, get some better lights, maybe paint some of the rooms. You don't even have any posters in your room, Cat! Who's your favorite actor? What singers do you like? Stuff like that."
Into the Garden Page 11