Beholden

by Lesley Crewe

  My arms ached washing those darn windows every weekend, and standing on a stepladder that high up wasn’t easy, but it gave me a perfect view of George flying down the hill on his bike one morning. His brown hair was every which way and his shirt was untucked. He looked like an unmade bed, and he was going much too fast by the time he reached me. The bike slid from under him and he jumped off just in the nick of time, creating a great cloud of dust. As it cleared, I saw he’d managed to keep his fishing rod in hand.

  I waved my arms around and coughed. “Thanks, George. Now I have to do this window over.”

  “S-sorry,” he panted. His eye was now deep purple and a sickly shade of yellow.

  I pointed at it. “That hurt?”

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  Climbing down the ladder, I put my cloth back in the soapy water and twisted it to wring it out. George watched me. I finally looked at him. “You’ve got nothing else to do?”

  “Gotta get some shoe polish for my dad.”

  “You’re not going to get it out here.”

  “D-do you want to go fishing with me?”

  At this point I would’ve done anything to get away from that window.

  “I’ll have to ask my mother.”

  We went into the store and my mother was behind the long wooden counter, gossiping with a lady. That’s all she did. Never stopped talking long enough to catch a breath. The only time I ever saw her smile was at someone else.

  I didn’t dare interrupt her, so George and I stood there like statues until she finally looked up and scowled. “What is it? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

  “May I go fishing with George? I’m almost done the windows.”

  “Certainly not. You have work to do.”

  Knowing the answer ahead of time doesn’t make it any easier. I turned on my heel and left George standing there, then went back to my ladder and soapy bucket. He stayed behind, presumably to buy his shoe polish. When he came out, I couldn’t look at him. He picked up his bike and straddled it.

  “I’ll see ya, then.”

  Just go, I screamed in my head.

  Off he went.

  For the next year, we’d chat during lunch break at school, but that was about it. It would be a long time before he’d ask me to go fishing again.

  On June 27, 1927, my seventeenth birthday, I had to make supper early for my parents because they were going out that evening, so I was responsible for closing the store. They never told me where they were going and never said goodbye when they left. All I know is that we had a lot of customers that night, and I never did get a chance to eat my own birthday supper.

  It was a hot evening, and I lay on my bed with the window wide open, listening to people walk down the street laughing and a couple of dogs barking in the distance. There was even an owl hooting quite close by; I couldn’t imagine why it decided to leave the comfort of the woods to sing its song for me, but I was grateful.

  The next thing I knew, there was a loud banging on the back door that led to our apartment. I didn’t know what time it was. I waited for my father to go down and see who was there, but no sound came from my parents’ room.

  The knocking continued. I lit a lamp, went downstairs, and opened the door. It was the chief of police and Dr. Mackenzie. George stood behind them. Something wasn’t right.

  “Hello, Nell. May we come in?”

  “What do you want?”

  “We need to speak to you.”

  Still groggy from sleep, I wasn’t connecting the dots—but by the time we walked up to the kitchen, it was dawning on me that my parents weren’t home.

  The three men filled the small kitchen. I was aware I had on only my nightdress. I clutched the front of it, holding it up to my neck. “What’s the matter?”

  Chief Graham took off his cap. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Nell, but your parents died in a car accident tonight.”

  They waited for me to respond.

  “Where?” was the only thing I could think of to say.

  “Just five miles from here. If it’s any comfort, I don’t think they suffered.”

  “Father always drove too fast, but he never listened to me.”

  Dr. Mackenzie reached over and guided me to a kitchen chair. “This is a terrible shock, Nell. I want you to know that we will help you in any way we can in the days ahead.”

  “I’m all right.”

  “There are a lot of details that need sorting,” Chief Graham said. “I’ll be back in the morning to give you a better idea of where we go from here.”

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” George asked.

  I’d forgotten he was there. “Okay.”

  George set about putting the kettle on and his father gave him a grateful look. “I brought George because he said you two were friends. I thought it might be easier.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Dr. Mackenzie gave Chief Graham a knowing look. Was I not doing this correctly? What did they want me to say? “I’d like to be by myself now.”

  “I don’t like to leave you,” Dr. Mackenzie said. “You’ve had a nasty shock.”

  “I’ll stay with her,” George volunteered.

  I found myself saying, “Yes, George can stay with me.”

  Eventually they left, saying they’d be back in the morning. The doctor gave me a shot of something to help me sleep. George said he’d sit in the parlour, but if I needed him, all I had to do was shout.

  I lay on the bed and waited but I couldn’t close my eyes. Eventually, I called out and George poked his head in my bedroom door.

  “I can’t sleep. Would you lie with me?”

  George looked around as if to ask someone permission before he entered the room. “Are you sure?”

  “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure.”

  I turned my back to him and faced the wall. He lay down beside me, as stiff as a board.

  “Put your arm over me, George.”

  He complied, and though it felt very odd, at least I wasn’t alone. We didn’t say anything, just breathed in the dark. My owl was still hooting.

  My eyes got heavy, but before darkness overcame me, I know I said, “I’m glad they’re dead.”

  People who had never before given me the time of day were all over me at the funeral. It was quite an event for the town. Two well-known people who had owned the best store around were suddenly gone in the prime of life, leaving an only child behind. I was a big deal for a change.

  But I could see right through them. They didn’t impress me with their promises of help. I’d seen enough of their behaviour all my life. Pious types who were all smiles when they chatted together at the store, but the minute one of them left, the other would turn to my mother and regale her with the latest gossip. I didn’t believe a word they said.

  Dr. Mackenzie’s wife, Jean, came up to me after the service. “I insist you come to dinner with us, dear. It’s been a long day and you looked peaked.”

  I said yes because George would be there.

  We sat down to a ham and scalloped potato supper, with lemon meringue pie for dessert. I’d never had such good food. We’d only ever eaten out of a can. So, this was something else I could blame my mother for. Never caring enough to put on a good meal.

  George’s house was very cozy. It looked lived in. The only word I could think of was full. It was filled with things that mattered, like family pictures and china ornaments. Items that meant something to those who lived there. As soon as I went in I saw George’s fishing rods and baskets in the corner of the back porch.

  I marvelled at the rugs on the floor and the doilies on the backs of the chairs and settee. There was flowered wallpaper in every room and embroidered curtains on the windows. Everything gleamed. I wanted to live in this house.

  The only damper on the evening was Georg
e’s brother, Donald. I didn’t know him well, as he was younger, but I knew he had a reputation for being a handful. I’d heard that one day while I was scrubbing the store floor.

  “Jean Mackenzie better watch that youngest boy of hers,” a neighbour had said. “He thinks he’s the cock of the walk.”

  The way he smirked at me across the dinner table was all the evidence I needed.

  “So, what are you going to do now, Nell? The world’s your oyster.”

  His mother put down her fork and knife. “What a ridiculous thing to say, Donny. And on the day she buried her parents.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I was just wondering what she’s going to do.”

  Dr. Mackenzie put a piece of pie in his mouth. “That’s her business,” he mumbled.

  “You must have some plans.”

  George leaned forward and glared at his brother. “It’s not your concern.”

  “That’s all right, George,” I said. “I know exactly what I’m going to do. I’m selling the store and moving back to my father’s old house.”

  “That’s probably the best idea,” Dr. Mackenzie said. “You’re too young to handle the store by yourself.”

  “I could run it as well as my parents, Dr. Mackenzie. But I hate it with a passion. I never want to step inside that store again.”

  Jean looked concerned. “Will you cope in that big house by yourself? It’s farther from town.”

  “That’s why I love it. I’ll be fine. I’ve been taking care of myself my whole life. It won’t be anything new.”

  When they exchanged glances, I noticed. “The rumours are true. My parents never wanted me. They only ever had time for each other. They didn’t love me, and I didn’t love them. I’m happy they’re gone. If that makes me a terrible person, then I guess I’ll be burned in hell, but since I’ve already been living in hell, I doubt I’ll even notice.”

  Jean put a napkin to her eyes. “Oh, dear child.”

  Donny was actually shocked into silence. Dr. Mackenzie stared at his plate. Only George gave me a sympathetic smile.

  At that point, I knew dinner was over. “Thank you, Mrs. Mackenzie. I better go.”

  George jumped out of his seat. “I’ll walk you home.”

  His father looked up. “Nell, I’d like to help you with the sale of the store. I have a lawyer who can deal with the business side of things. I want to make sure everything is done properly. I don’t want to see you taken advantage of.”

  I hesitated at first, but George’s father seemed to be a nice man. And he was a doctor, so being trustworthy was his job. He’d probably come in handy in the days ahead. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”

  George and I didn’t talk much on that walk home. I was comfortable with him; he never judged me. He never judged anyone, come to think of it. He was an old soul. I’d heard that somewhere and knew instantly George fell into that category.

  We were halfway home when a car honked as it zoomed by with a chubby girl hanging out of the back window. She yelled, “Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie, kissed the girls and made them cry!”

  The car had disappeared by the time she got to the end, but we saw her waving frantically before they rounded a turn.

  I looked at him. “Was that Eileen?”

  George smirked. “Yeah, my crazy cousin. She’s a rig.”

  “I didn’t know she was your cousin. That must be nice. I don’t have any.”

  When we got back to my kitchen, I was ashamed of it, after all the cozy fullness of George’s house. It looked like we’d just moved in. Tears started to fall down my cheeks and they wouldn’t stop. George put his arms around me and let it happen. Later, we sat at the table and drank cocoa, even though the weather was warm and humid.

  “I suppose I shouldn’t have said all that to your parents.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I really didn’t hate my parents, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not glad they’re dead.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m just sorry I’ll never get the chance to ask them why they didn’t like me.”

  “I’m sure they loved you. Some people just don’t know how to express it.”

  That was the moment I fell in love with George. Not that I told him that. But it was a nugget of warmth that I held close to my chest after he left. I wasn’t quite so alone after that.

  I’m not sure what I would have done without George’s dad. He set up meetings with interested buyers and negotiated a good price for the store and apartment above it. Then he took me to the bank and had them explain the best option for me, as far as the income from the property.

  “This is your nest egg, Nell. This is what we call your capital,” the banker said. “We don’t have to touch that. You can draw on the interest this money will make for your everyday expenses. And once you’re married, you won’t have to worry. Your husband will look after you.”

  “I’m never getting married,” I told the banker, who looked at Dr. Mackenzie with amusement. Why did men always do that?

  “Now, I’m sure a pretty little girl like you won’t be on the market for long.”

  Dr. Mackenzie stood up and held out his hand across the desk. “Thank you for your time.”

  I think he was afraid I was about to say something rude.

  He was right.

  George and his mom, Jean, came with me to open up my father’s house. It was a good mile from the centre of town and about half a mile from George’s house. It was back off the road and up a steep hill. There was a small cottage near the highway on the left-hand side. It didn’t seem occupied.

  Trees enclosed most of the house, but it was the alders that made the house look like it was being swallowed. It was larger than I remembered it. An almost perfect gingerbread house, with elaborate finishing on the eaves, its dormer windows and wraparound porch. The shingles were peeling and the front steps looked crooked, but on the whole, it seemed sturdy enough.

  All I wanted to do was run into the woods to see my brook, but I had to save that for when I was alone. I put the key in the lock and walked into my childhood. But it wasn’t the way I remembered it. Everything was covered in dust and cobwebs, with dead flies and mice and stale air rushing out to greet us.

  “Oh dear,” Jean said. “This is a huge job.”

  “I don’t mind. I’ll do a little at a time.”

  “I’ll help you,” George volunteered.

  Jean continued to rummage around and walk through the rooms. “We’re going to have to make sure the chimney is still in good working order and that the roof is sound. I just don’t know how you’re going to manage here in the winter. You’ll never get shovelled out.”

  “Don’t worry so much, Mrs. Mackenzie. I like a challenge.”

  Jean turned around and put her hand on my shoulder. “You’re still very young, Nell. You have no idea what awaits you. I just don’t know if this is a good idea.”

  “I love this place. This is my home. Just wait until I fix it up. You’ll love it then.”

  It was nice of Mrs. Mackenzie to want to help me, but for a moment I balked at being told what to do. I’d had enough of that in my lifetime, with my parents controlling every move I made. And it didn’t stop there. Jean and a few of her friends came to help me set the place to rights, even though George and I said we were fine on our own. I noticed that the ladies did their best to make sure we were never alone in the same room.

  “I think they don’t trust us,” I said. “Are they afraid of what people will say?”

  “Most likely. They’re just being mothers.”

  “I wouldn’t know. I didn’t have a normal mother.”

  George didn’t like it when I talked like that, but he never told me to stop. He’d just frown or make a face. As much as he thoug
ht he understood, he’d never know.

  The woods were grown in and I had a hard time finding my old hideaway, but once I located the brook, it all came flooding back. I belonged to this place. It was happy to see me again. My friends were still here, although I’d never tell a soul about them.

  When I ran into Myrtle and her gang one day over the summer, they wanted to come over and see the place. There was something mystifying about a girl living by herself.

  “Sorry. I don’t invite people home.”

  Myrtle laughed. “Why ever not? What’s so special about it?”

  “I get to do what I want now, and that includes keeping awful people away from my door.”

  “You’ve always been a stuck-up snippet, Nell Sampson!” She flounced away with her lackeys behind her.

  The summer was going to fly by, and regrettably I’d have to go back to school with Myrtle and her ilk. Thank the Lord it was my last year. The only reason I stayed in school was because George thought it was important. I’d always hated it and could never figure out why I needed to know about long-dead British kings.

  The only class that helped me was math. Learning how to do fractions made sewing easier. My one big purchase was a Singer sewing machine. I’d asked my parents for one and they’d ignored my request, so I bought the most expensive one in the Eaton’s catalogue.

  It was the best day of my life when George and his father picked it up for me at the post office. When his dad went back out to his car, I grabbed George and gave him a big kiss. The poor boy turned bright red, but he kissed me back. Soon that’s all we did when we had a few moments alone, but I was very careful not to let anyone see us. All I needed was for someone to object to our friendship and my life would be ruined.

  By that Christmas, I had the house the way I wanted it. During the summer, Dr. Mackenzie arranged for a handyman to scrape and paint the peeling white shingles on the outside of the house. I chose a dark grey, with cream for the trim and shutters. It looked much more substantial in the darker colour. A large haul of firewood had been delivered in October to see me though the winter, and a ton of coal was poured through the chute into the cellar. Dr. Mackenzie had arranged that as well. The Mackenzies also invited me for Christmas dinner. Sometimes I wondered why they were so nice to me. They weren’t getting anything out of it, as far as I could see, so I asked George.