The Skye in June

by June Ahern

Dinner was solemn, even though Auntie Nancy made the girls her delicious spaghetti, the dish they always raved about when they ate dinner at her house. The pasta dish was something the girls had never experienced in their Scottish household.

  Mary, who always ate heartily, sat with the others at the table with her head down, unable to eat.

  Maggie whispered to Annie, “Good thing they didn’t bring the brat.” Her sister just stared at the wall with her thin lips closed tight. Only June, enjoying the buttery garlic bread, laughed at Maggie’s remark.

  When her sisters left the table, June stayed behind to have another piece of bread. Sandy and Nancy talked in hushed tones about Granda B’s passing.

  “I still feel guilty, though, you know. I brought them bad luck,” Sandy said.

  “Oh, honey. Don’t be silly. It was his time. He was an old man.” Nancy gave Sandy a peck on the cheek.

  “The family told Cathy to not bother coming home. Oh well, perhaps it’s for the best. She’s needed here,” Sandy said.

  His wife remarked that Cathy was of no use to her family lying in bed with the curtains drawn and refusing food.

  “And, that one. . .” Nancy nodded at June. “Making up stories about her grandfather coming to see them at the New Year’s party. They ought to spank her for telling lies.”

  June munched away on her bread as she thought about how to get even with Nancy for speaking badly about her mother. Maybe she’d tell her that Mark called her a big mean monster.

  Satisfied with her last bite, the grateful child thanked the cook and said, “Granda’s with my dead sisters and my angel. I can talk to them. Want to learn how?”

  Auntie Nancy shushed her and warned her to stop saying naughty things.

  Before going to bed, the girls decided to do what June had suggested. They lit the candles that were hidden under the bed with the matches Mary had snuck into the bedroom. Annie told her sisters to get their rosary beads. “We’ll put them in the middle so Our Lady will help us talk with Granda,” she said.

  Maggie and Mary pulled the altar out into the middle of the room so they all could sit around it and hold each other’s hands. With eyes closed, it was Annie who asked for Granda B to give them a message. Mary started to sniff back tears.

  Just then June saw a white energy spark around the altar. “Granda is here!” she said excitedly.

  Her sisters shivered. Although they couldn’t feel him, they believed their little sister. They all said, “I love you, Granda.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 17

  HOPES AND FEARS

  EACH DAY FOLLOWING the sad news, the girls knelt at the altar with their rosary beads and said ten “Hail Mary’s” for Granda B and their mother. Mary complained it was too much, but Annie said it would help cure their mother more quickly.

  Overtaken by grief, Cathy remained in bed for several days. Although the girls helped with the house cleaning and cooking, the majority of the work fell on Annie’s shoulders. June felt sad for her and would try to be helpful.

  On the second Sunday following the news, Jimmy and June were in the living room. He read the Sunday paper while she cut out paper dolls from store catalogs. They heard Cathy weakly call out “Jimmy” from the bedroom next door. He quickly went to her. June could hear only the deep rumble of his voice, followed by her mother’s faint reply.

  He returned to the living room and happily told June, “Your mother’s hungry. That’s a good sign. Let’s go get her something.”

  June was relieved to see that her father didn’t look as tense as he had been since learning of Granda’s death. She quickly gathered up the scissors, paste and the paper cutouts and followed him to the kitchen.

  The older girls, cleaning up after Sunday breakfast, began jabbering and giggling when Jimmy gave them the good news.

  “Her face is rosy pink,” he told them. “I think the fever broke. Annie, boil an egg. Maggie, toast two slices of bread, lightly. Mary, fill the kettle with water. And June, set the tray with one of the fancy cloth napkins. The kind your Mother only uses for special dinners.”

  Jimmy stretched up to the highest shelf in the cupboard where he kept his good Scotch and took down Cathy’s favorite pink and gold teapot with matching cup and saucer––a wedding gift that the children were not allowed to touch. Whistling one of his favorite Scottish tunes, “I Belong to Glasgow,” Jimmy began to spoon loose black tea into the teapot.

  “Daddy, that’s too many tea leaves,” Annie said.

  “Yeah?” Jimmy asked with sincerity.

  She nodded very seriously, so he scooped some of the tea out and winked at her.

  Ready to resume her art project, June wiped away the crumbs from the table to lay down her art supplies. She pulled out a faded yellow kitchen chair, climbed up on it, and resumed her project. She loved to create families from the models displayed in the catalogs. After cutting them out, she’d paste the pictures onto a white sheet of paper. Her fingers were too small for the big metal scissors, so she cut the figures slowly.

  “Daddy, can we make a wee party for Mommy?” she asked without missing a snip.

  Maggie echoed the request, “Can we Daddy? I’ll draw her a picture of us at the beach. That’ll cheer her up.”

  “I’ll get flowers from the garden,” Mary added enthusiastically as she put silverware on the tray.

  “Don’t be daft, you’ll no find flowers with this cold weather,” Jimmy said.

  It was true that the January weather had been cold in spite of the winter sun, which tried to bring some warmth to the season.

  “Me and Mrs. G kept some alive,” said Mary, gesturing to June to hand over the scissors.

  No matter what the weather was like, Mary and June enjoyed working in the garden with Mrs. G, who always had time to teach them about gardening. Like the garden, they thrived under her magical touch.

  “Sounds like a party, girls!” Jimmy said as the toast popped up.

  They all laughed with delight. The excitement of planning a surprise for their mother, in hopes of bringing her happiness, caught on. Each girl scurried around preparing her part of the celebration.

  When it was time, Jimmy entered the bedroom to let Cathy know the girls would soon bring in her breakfast. Hiding under thick blankets, Cathy moaned, wanting to escape her haunting dream. The image of her father was so vivid she felt he was in the room.

  * * *

  Her father drew away from her. She knew he didn’t want her touching him, not after what she’d done. It wasn’t that she wanted to lean on him. It was the force of the bitter winds that blew her to him.

  * * *

  Cathy propped up some pillows to help her sit up after Jimmy left the room. She didn’t want to fall asleep again and return to the disturbing dream about her father. She didn’t want to cry anymore. If only she could dream of the loving times with her father and not be stuck with the same image that played over and over again. Sadly, she could not remember the good times. She could only recall the last time she and her parents were alone together. All the other times before that were erased from her mind.

  She slid down the pillows and brought one over her head, in hopes of hiding from the memory and from the words spoken that dismal night in the Highlands of Scotland so many years ago––words that sealed her fate, wouldn’t go away. Her mother’s message remained strong in her mind.

  * * *

  “I told your father we must come, for it may be the last chance to get you home before you worsen matters. Then he’d never let you home,” Granny B said to Cathy.

  Granda B stood at the front door of the cottage with his hands buried deep in the pockets of his Macintosh, waiting for his wife and daughter to finish packing a battered leather suitcase.

  Granda B took the case from Granny and bitterly complained to her, “I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming to this godforsaken place, let alone at Hogmanay.”

  Granny tutted, and turned to cover Cathy’s head with a scarf, assu
ring her he was just feeling a bit sorry for himself. He muttered how he was missing Hogmanay in Glasgow. By now the revelries would be in full swing. Instead, he was hours away in the Highlands of Scotland and sworn to secrecy about their mission. He was a reluctant savior, and Cathy knew it.

  “You’ll see in time that I was right. It’s the best for all. You’re no leaving forever,” said Granny. But Cathy pulled away at her mother’s encouraging words.

  The three huddled together trying to avoid being soaked by the pelting rain. A strong wind blew frantically around them. The winds sounded like the shriek of a witch’s laugh.

  The dim lights of the bus snaking down the dark winding road grew brighter, until it stopped in front of the three drenched people, saving them from any more punishment. Cathy balked as she climbed the steps into the bus. Her father pushed her onward. He said something to her, although she could not hear him over the sounds of the high-pitched storm winds surrounding them. The door closed, leaving the dead of winter behind them.

  * * *

  Cathy buried herself deeper beneath the blankets. Guilt of that time of life seemed to grow stronger rather than lessen with the passing years. She was certain if she could have been stronger and never got on the bus: if she never had left the Highlands, perhaps her father and she would have found a way to be as they once were…a loving father and daughter.

  The tea, brewed to perfection, stayed hot under the floral tea cozy. Jimmy placed it next to the teacup, a blue eggcup containing a soft-boiled egg, and plate of buttered toast.

  “Ready, girls? Bring your presents,” he said as he picked up the tray.

  Annie proudly held a saucer with a few small butter cookies glazed with pink icing that Mrs. G had helped her bake the previous day. Jimmy remarked what a good girl Annie had been to take such good care of the house.

  Mary had returned from the garden with a few decent looking snapdragons that she had put in a green plastic water glass.

  Maggie had hurriedly drawn a picture of the family holding hands in front of a sign of Playland. She yanked at her father’s arm and showed him the picture. “Look, see how happy we are?”

  Jimmy saw the drawing and remarked on her talents. “Oh, aye, that looks like us! Right girls, let’s get going.”

  The procession of well-wishers walked merrily down the long hallway to their mother. The room was dark with the curtains drawn tightly together, blocking out all sunlight. Cathy was lying deep within the layers of covers. Jimmy turned on a small lamp on the nightstand.

  “You awake, hen?” he asked softly.

  She mumbled something, but her head was buried in a pillow. The girls crowded around the doorway holding their gifts.

  “Here’s your tea and egg,” he said, putting the tray on the nightstand. He motioned for the girls to come forward. “The girls got some gifts for you.”

  Annie stepped forward and laid the cookies beside the tray. Mary put the flowers on the opposite nightstand. And Maggie leaned her picture against a tall water glass.

  Their mother didn’t lift her head. June sensed that she wasn’t really asleep, but rather hiding away from them. The little girl felt miffed knowing this, so she stayed by the doorway and didn’t go into the room. Her gift was a story told through the cutouts she had made from her many catalogs––Wards, Sears and J.C. Penney––pasted on paper. It showed a hen with chickens. Pasted high on the page was a pretty blonde lady, smiling and sitting in a sailboat that seemed to be floating in the sky. June had prepared a story to go along with the cutouts. But now she didn’t know if she wanted to tell it to her mother. She let the picture drop to the carpet.

  Jimmy’s shoulders slumped, hurt by his wife’s rejection. “Let’s leave your mother to sleep. Maybe she’ll be up a bit later,” he said wearily.

  Watching her father and her sisters, June thought how her mother’s sadness made the whole family sad. They needed her to be happy. She wanted to bring her mother back for everyone’s sake.

  The sisters filed out of the room and Jimmy quietly shut the door, closing off Cathy from the family once again; only the youngest girl didn’t follow the others back to the kitchen. June had decided to visit her mother. She slowly opened the door and tiptoed into the bedroom to stand by the side of the bed. Her mother stirred slightly. To get into the bed without making a fuss, June pulled herself up tall so as not to tug the blankets off and like a cat, leaped lightly onto it. She gingerly crawled over to her mother, almost crushing a Life magazine under her knees.

  With her warm palm against the back of Cathy’s head, she whispered, “Mommy. Here’s my love.” She laid her face against her mother’s hair and kissed it. “Now you’ll be better.”

  Cathy rolled over onto her back and squinted at her pretty little daughter with uncombed curls.

  Pleased at being acknowledged, June announced, “I’m going to tell you a story.”

  Her mother sighed and closed her eyes.

  June opened up the magazine full of photographs. Flipping through it, she found a picture she liked and began chatting away. “Once upon a time…”

  Her mother turned over, facing away from her. Nevertheless, June continued on with her story, turning the large pages of the magazine. At one page she stopped, keeping quiet, mesmerized by the black-and-white photo of a soldier kissing a woman in a train station. June had seen her mother and father kiss. She thought, maybe this was a picture of them doing it again.

  June’s voice suddenly became clearer. Cathy moved her head around and cocked her ear to see if she had heard right.

  “Man says to the lady, ‘What’s your name?’ Lady said, ‘Cathy.’ See. This is you.” She held up the magazine, but her mother was still turned away from her. She patted her mother’s shoulder, “Look Mommy! You and the big man kissing. ‘Member?”

  “What? What are you going on about?” Cathy answered.

  When her mother had finally responded, June went on with her story, the one she felt had been told to her by her angel. “‘Member? Before you were sad. You and the man laughed a bunch of times. Mommy.” She waited a second. “Mommy. Will you laugh like that again someday?”

  Cathy propped up on an elbow so she could see the photo. Bolting up, she pulled the magazine from June’s hands and threw it violently across the room.

  “Damn you,” she screamed. “You’re always on at me with your lying stories. Stop it! Can’t you keep that mouth of yours shut! Leave me alone you wee nyaft.”

  June slid off the bed, hurt that her mother called her a bad name. Mary had said nyaft was just the same as saying she was a brat, like Mark.

  “Get out. Get out! Jimmy! Jimmy!”

  June ran wildly to the door to escape the wrath and bumped into her father as he came through it.

  “What in hell? Jesus, June! Didn’t I tell you to leave your mother alone? Get out before I skelp you.”

  He started to take off his heavy leather belt to spank his daughter. But having felt the sting of his belt across the back of her legs before, June whizzed past him, screeching to Annie for help.

  “It’s okay. She won’t bother you. Lie down.” Jimmy sat on the bed next to Cathy, touching her hair.

  She flopped back onto the pillow and rolled away from him. He moved further onto the bed and pulled the covers back away from her shoulders. She felt his warm calloused hands beneath her nightgown, massaging her neck and moving down her back.

  “Oh hen, I’ve missed you so much,” he said huskily. He leaned down and kissed her bare shoulders. “It’s been so hard not having you with me.” He slid back the blankets to lie next to her.

  She could feel his warm breath on her neck. Her first reaction was to shove him away. Then she sighed, thinking, he needs comforting, too. She turned to face him, tears wetting her face.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 18

  THE SPIRIT OF FRIENDSHIP

  THE DELICATE BRASS BELLS hanging from Mrs. G’s back door banged chaotically when June burst through it. Like a w
hirlwind, the girl ran through the kitchen and into the flat in search of her friend. Cathy tried unsuccessfully to hold her back by grabbing her daughter’s oversized sweater.

  Smoke from frankincense swirled around the living room as Mrs. G awoke, stretching from her position under a handmade afghan on the sofa. As she opened her eyes, she spied the mischievous grin on June’s face as she pulled the crimson silk scarf and tarot cards from under a sleeve stretched down over her hand. Knowingly, Mrs. G smiled, moving her creaking body as she put out her hand.

  Cathy entered the room wearing a pretty, light-colored suit with matching hat. “Good morning, Mrs. G,” she called out in a singsong voice.

  “Ah, you look so pretty. Just like this sunny spring day,” Mrs. G said sincerely, noting the pink coloring that had returned to Cathy’s cheeks.

  The two women watched the little girl dance around the room. Cathy shook her head, always astonished at the energy of her youngest. “Sure it won’t be too much for you to watch her?” she asked apologetically.

  Mrs. G laughed, “Trouble? June?”

  Cathy looked at her watch. “I better hurry. I don’t want to be late and keep Jimmy waiting. He’s so tense these days with working two shifts. He’s found the perfect house for us. I can’t wait to see it.”

  “No problem,” said Mrs. G.

  Appreciatively, Cathy put her hand on the old woman’s shoulder. “Thank you so much. And please, would you no say a wee prayer for us that we get it?”

  Mrs. G spread the tarot cards on top of a low brass table. Her arthritic fingers glided over them before pulling one out. “You have house before summer. I know.”

  “That’s smashing news!” Cathy beamed.

  Mrs. G gave a delighted chuckle followed by a rough cough. Spitting phlegm into a large hankie, she calmed her breathing and waved Cathy away. “Go. Hurry. I visit with my little friend. We have fun. You be happy now!”

  Cathy felt a rush of sadness noticing how frail Mrs. G was looking lately. Impulsively, she gave her friend a quick hug. To June she said, “Be a good girl and don’t bother Mrs. G with your wild stories.” Leaning in closer, she added “Remember, we won’t tell Daddy about the cards, okay?”