March bowed her head.
‘Conveniently,’ the driver said. ‘She was cremated right after her husband.’
An image of a ship and a man entered March’s head – it was the same man that the seagull had held in its beak in her dream on the ocean bed.
‘Here is the market where the tragedy took place,’ the driver said, in reference to the Faccinises. ‘The blood- stained dirt has finally blown away with the wind.’
As they drove past the market, March envisioned the stabbing that had taken place and created her own physical picture of their features in her head. It was the same man and woman who had appeared in her dream while she slept in the ocean – they were the people who held her and cradled her.
‘How are they doing?’ she asked.
‘They are living and they are dead,’ the driver said.
He explained that Jonas rarely moved away from Maria’s bedside since the day of her stabbing. He had forgotten everything, including the Medallions, though they had visited him every day.
‘Nirana told me one day that Jonas had forgotten to breathe causing him to almost die, but Nirana reminded him,’ the driver said. ‘Nirana had to pat him on the back to get him to cough and then he would remember to use his lungs.’
‘And his wife?’ March asked.
‘His wife was remarkable,’ the driver replied. ‘She has been bedridden since the day of her stabbing some twenty years ago. But she has not shown any sign of ageing. She lies there with her eyes closed, a sleeping beauty she is.’
‘Has she woken up at all?’
‘No sign of her waking up,’ the driver said. ‘But every now and then, in the middle of the night, she wakes for only a few seconds to remind Jonas to take a bath, or tell him where his eyeglasses are, but she hasn’t done that in a while.’
March took a carrot.
‘When the Medallions were alive,’ he said. ‘They would come and help move Maria’s body around to help keep her blood circulating.’
‘But the Medallions are gone now.’ March said. ‘Will Jonas remember to do that?’
‘It is a wonderful love that they have for each other,’ the carriage driver said. ‘When it comes to Maria, Jonas remembers everything he has to do to take care of her.’
As the driver finished his last sentence, they arrived at the hotel that had been built by the Medallions.
‘I am sorry,’ the driver said. ‘I have talked too much. You must be exhausted. But we are here now.’
‘No need to apologize,’ March said. ‘I should be thanking you.’
The driver helped March with her luggage and bade her farewell. Before he left, March asked him if he could be her driver while she stayed in Kolkaper.
‘I will be your Kolkaper guide,’ he said. ‘A Virgil of some sort. My name is Thenly. Please settle yourself. I will have my lunch now and be back soon after.’
March walked through the lobby of the hotel. On the right, she saw paintings by Picasso hung on the wall. To the right of all the paintings hung a gold plate that said that these paintings had been donated by Francesca and Nirana Medallion and that each room had a Picasso painting given by the Medallions.
The hotel used to be the Medallion Mansion. When they moved out to live closer to Jonas and Maria, they made some extensions and turned the house into a place for tourists to lodge. Despite its extravagant decorations, such as the marble floors and walls, the glistening chandeliers and the silk-laced furniture, the Medallions vowed to never make it an expensive place to stay. They left Mr Thenly in charge in their wills. Mr Thenly took over the hotel, but also continued to be a carriage driver in his spare time.
‘Being a carriage driver was my childhood dream,’ he would tell his friends. ‘I eat hay with the horses.’
15
MARCH PAID THE HOTEL CLERK FOR A week’s stay and he showed her the way to her room. The door opened to a short hallway with the bathroom on the right and straight ahead were the living room and the bedroom. Over the head of the bed, was Picasso’s Girl With a Mandolin. Next to the bed was a closet and a dresser made of oak. The living room had two pieces of silk-laced furniture. There was a centre table with bronze legs and a glass top that had been made when Kolkaper was just beginning to grow as a city. Before metal studies became a crucial part of Kolkaper’s growth, glass making was one of its premier industries and was headed by Lenea Galassier. Coming from a wealthy French family, she was famous for importing diamonds from Denmark and transforming them into glass because the city of Kolkaper seemed more interested in glass than diamonds. No one knew how she did it and Lenea never revealed her secret. With her death, the secret was buried with her and the only remains of her work are found in centre tables, chandeliers and other items of décor. The city believed that she came from the Cave Forest.
March thanked the hotel clerk for his help and lay on the bed for a few minutes before bathing herself. She left the hotel to see if Mr Thenly was waiting outside. He was there, talking to his horses.
‘You look as refreshed as the morning dew,’ Mr Thenly said.
March smiled and looked around her. ‘Where can you take me?’ she asked.
‘There is a mourning dinner for the Medallions tonight at the banquet hall. Would you like to go?’
March nodded and they left for the banquet hall, which was not too far away.
‘I could have walked,’ March said.
‘But who would give me company then?’ Mr Thenly replied.
They both smiled. The place was crowded. The elite as well as the poor were mingling and talking about their memories of the Medallions. Also there were criminals whom Nirana had prosecuted and sent to jail. They were on special leave for the event.
‘He sent me to prison,’ one criminal said. ‘But if I had to go, I wouldn’t have it any other way.’
‘The man was both sharp and kind,’ another criminal said. ‘After he had successfully prosecuted me for my crime, he sent flowers to my wife.’
March followed Mr Thenly around the banquet hall.
‘Will Jonas be here?’ she asked.
‘I doubt it,’ Mr Thenly said. ‘He is not a part of Kolkaper anymore, but only a citizen of his own mind.’
‘Can you take me to his house?’ she asked. ‘I would like to meet him.’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I don’t think that he will give you good company, but perhaps a fresh face will wake him up a bit.’
He took a bite out of a piece of celery covered in peanut butter.
‘If you are looking for some kind of work,’ Mr Thenly said, ‘you can take care of Jonas and Maria. The Medallions asked me to find someone to take care of the Faccinises in their wills.’
‘I’m training to become a doctor,’ March said.
‘This will be a good start,’ he replied.
March accepted the offer. They left the banquet hall and went to the Faccinises’ house – it was covered in vines and she couldn’t see the house’s colours. Next to it was the Medallions’ house with lit candles on the porch. The front yard of the Faccinises’ home had two trees, and their branches jutted into the house. One of the branches went straight through the front window. March could see a bird’s nest on one of the branches in the kitchen.
‘No need to knock,’ Mr Thenly said. ‘He won’t answer. Just walk in. I’ll wait outside. He has long forgotten who I am.’
‘Even though you saved his life?’ March asked.
‘Sometimes I wonder if I really did save his life,’ he said.
March walked inside. All the rooms were dark. She heard the birds in the kitchen. She walked down the hallway and into the living room. It was well kept because the Medallions had taken care of this house as long as they were alive. From the living room, another hallway led to two bedrooms on opposite sides. She noticed the door on the right had a faint light coming from it – she peered inside. The first thing she saw was Maria lying in her bed. Her eyes were closed and her arms were placed by her side. She looked y
oung.
‘A swan’s grace,’ March whispered.
She walked inside the room and bowed her head. A cough from the corner of the room startled her. She saw in the shadowed corner a man sitting in a rocking chair. Jonas didn’t know that March was in the room. His eyeglasses were on the floor near his feet. He was rocking back and forth in his chair with his head tilted to a side as it rested on his hand. His body odour tickled March’s nose. The room smelled of stale onions, which made March’s eyes water.
‘Jonas,’ March said.
Jonas didn’t reply; he continued to rock in his chair. His eyes were closed. The chair squeaked in perfect rhythm. March cleared her voice and called his name again. The chair stopped rocking, but his eyes were still closed.
‘I am here to take care of you and Maria,’ March said. ‘I have been hired to help take care of you and the house.’
He started to rock in his chair – and there was squeaking again. He spoke in a weak, thin voice.
‘I hear the birds singing in my head,’ Jonas said.
Those were his first words since he had spoken to Maria fourteen months ago, when he told her that her nose was still pretty.
‘They’re in the kitchen,’ March replied.
‘I can’t see my glasses,’ Jonas said. ‘But I wonder if my glasses can see me.’
‘They’re on the ground. Right next to your feet.’
‘Where are my feet?’
‘They are attached to your legs.’
‘And my legs?’
‘Attached to your body.’
The chair stopped rocking. Jonas ran his hands along his own body, as if he were trying to figure out whether he existed or not. He tapped his feet against the floor. He sat still for a few seconds and then picked up his glasses and put them on.
‘There I am,’ Jonas said. He looked at March.
‘I have seen those eyes before,’ Jonas said.
She turned her face and looked at Maria. March didn’t see any signs of breathing, yet she looked vibrant for the state that she was in. Her skin was tan rather than pale. Her eyebrows were prim and her toenails were cut perfectly around the skin.
‘How is she?’ March asked.
‘I have seen those eyes,’ Jonas said. ‘I remember those eyes.’
He looked at Maria.
‘She has been resting now for twenty years,’ Jonas said. ‘Soon she will wake up.’
March was still standing at the doorway of the room. She wanted to tell him that she was his daughter.
‘I will be back in the morning,’ March said. ‘I will get some sleep now and see you and Maria tomorrow.’
‘Sleep?’ Jonas replied.
‘I will get ready to take care of you all,’ March said. Jonas nodded. March went outside to where Mr Thenly was waiting. He was talking to his horses. ‘Would you like to go back to the hotel?’ he asked.
March didn’t say anything – they made their way back
to the Medallion Hotel.
‘I do not know your name,’ Mr Thenly said.
‘March.’
Mr Thenly stopped the carriage in the middle of the path. The horse listened to a nearby owl. His eyes were large and round as he turned to March. Her eyes were just as wide. She could hear her heart beating inside her ribcage. The driver looked at March’s eyes, studying them. He gathered his composure and told his horses to start trotting again.
‘You are the singing baby,’ Mr Thenly said. ‘The baby who couldn’t sleep. The love of the Faccinises and the Medallions.’
‘I have come to Kolkaper to find my biological parents,’ March said. ‘I learnt about them through the letters Jonas had sent. I found them after my parents in Koofay passed away.’
‘My condolences,’ the driver said. ‘And what do you plan on doing, now that you are here and have seen them?’
‘I will look after them as long as I am here,’ she said. ‘I don’t know much about them, but I know they loved me, because they sent me off to live a good life.’
She looked at the trees on the side of the road. She felt the vibrations of the carriage as the horse’s hooves hit the cobbled road. All of it seemed familiar to her.
‘I feel that my mother was stabbed because of me,’ March said. ‘And now I want to take care of them. I want to take care of them as they would have taken care of me.’
16
THE NEXT MORNING, MARCH WROTE Mario a letter, telling him her situation and where she was living. She told him about her real parents and how her carriage driver was the same as the man who had been the carriage driver of the Medallions and the Faccinises. She told him about how she had been a baby who could sing from the day of her birth and how they wanted to send her to the Cave Forest. Mr Thenly took her to the post office.
‘If you don’t mind, I think I will walk around for a bit before seeing my father.’
‘I will wait here,’ Mr Thenly said.
Around the corner from the post office was a small market. She walked by and looked at the jewellery and clothing. In one section of the market, there was a small stall, the smallest of them all, and March saw a child advertising skirts of earthy colours. He had no customers yet, but stood there, waiting for whoever would come.
‘Cover your body with these skirts,’ he shouted. ‘All colours. All sizes.’
‘Hello, little boy,’ March said.
‘Do you like these colours?’ the boy asked.
He picked up a dark green skirt made of silk and handed it to her.
‘I like it,’ she said.
‘Would you like to buy it?’ he asked.
‘Not now,’ March said.
The boy shrugged.
‘But I will definitely come by later,’ March said. ‘Are you open every morning?’
‘Only once a week.’ the boy said.
He looked at the ground and began to lightly kick the dirt with his shoes full of holes.
‘Where did you get these skirts from?’ she asked.
‘I made them,’ he said.
He looked at her. She could see the pride in his eyes mixed with despair.
‘Are you from here?’ March asked.
As the boy was about to reply, a man from the other side of the market started to shout at him.
‘No outcasts allowed in the market,’ he said. ‘Go back to the darkness of the Forest.’
The man ran towards him, but his weight slowed him down. This gave the boy time quickly to gather his skirts and place them in a bag. Without looking at March, he started to run away. A few seconds later, he ran back to March and handed her the dark-green skirt.
‘I made this for you,’ he said. ‘Take it.’
He ran off again before March could say anything.
The man, who was shouting at the boy, eventually arrived. He was breathing hard – his moustache was drenched in sweat.
‘They should stay in the Forest and never come out,’ he said. ‘They do not deserve the sun.’
‘He is from the Cave Forest?’ she asked.
‘They don’t belong here,’ he said
‘Why is the Forest considered such a bad place?’ March asked.
‘It is a world full of oddities,’ the man said. ‘Too strange. Too many defects.’
‘I think you’re just scared,’ March said.
The man looked at her with narrowed eyes. The sweat from his moustache dripped to the ground, forming a small puddle. He walked away.
March went back to the carriage with the skirt in her hand and told Mr Thenly about the incident in the market.
‘Nice skirt,’ Mr Thenly said.
‘I love it,’ March agreed.
‘It is full of talent,’ Mr Thenly said. ‘Exquisite.’
‘I must come back and pay him,’ she said.
They started off for Jonas’s house. On their way there, as March bought some food to take to Jonas, she asked Mr Thenly if he believed that the Cave Forest was a bad place.
‘They are perhaps talented and
misunderstood,’ he said. ‘I am in no position to judge others.’
When they arrived at the house, the birds in the kitchen had left for the day.
‘They must be running errands,’ March said.
Mr Thenly waited outside while March went in to see Jonas, who was sitting on the chair that March had first seen him in. His eyes were open and he had his glasses on.
‘And you are?’ Jonas asked.
‘I am here to take care of you and Maria,’ March said.
‘I remember those eyes,’ he said. ‘I used to hold you when you were a baby. Maria too. You were the singing baby. The baby who never slept.’
‘Some things haven’t changed,’ March said.
She felt her stomach rumbling with nervousness. But Jonas didn’t tell her that he was her father or that Maria was her mother. March was not sure that Jonas remembered that she was his daughter – only that they used to hold her when she was a baby.
‘You ran away from us because we were going to send you to the Cave Forest,’ Jonas said. ‘We were scared of you and now you are back to curse us.’
He had a coughing spasm.
‘Not true,’ March said. Her voice quivered.
The room was only lit by the sunlight coming through the window. Jonas sat in the corner where it was dark.
‘You sent me off to Koofay so that the others would not send me to the Cave Forest. You sent me away out of love, not fear. I am back to take care of both of you.’
Jonas turned his face to the floor. He rocked his chair, which squeaked every time it went back.
‘You and Maria are my parents,’ March said. ‘Don’t you remember?’
Jonas stopped rocking the chair. He continued to stare at the floor. Turning towards Maria, he asked, ‘Maria, is this our daughter? Do we remember?’
Maria remained motionless. But before Jonas spoke again, she opened her mouth.
‘March,’ she said. ‘From our crib.’
And that was it. She didn’t say anything else. March went up to her, but she didn’t move. It was as if nothing had ever happened.
The Sea Singer Page 8