The Alphabet Sisters

by Monica McInerney

  The second message was also from her. “Anna, Mrs. Harold again. Can you call me as soon as you get this message?”

  Anna checked the time. Both calls had been left in the last fifteen minutes. She pressed the speed dial on her mobile and didn’t bother with greetings when Mrs. Harold answered.

  “It’s Anna, Ellen Green’s mother, Mrs. Harold. Is she sick? Hurt? What happened?”

  “Hello, Anna. No, it’s just there’s been a bit of an incident on the playground.”

  A rush of panic up her back again. “Not another dog?”

  “Nothing like that,” the voice soothed. “But it would be better if we talk about it face-to-face. Ellen is here in the office with us. Could you come in as soon as possible?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m in Sydney. For work.” Anna waited for the disapproval, the change in tone, and was amazed when it didn’t come.

  “Is there anyone else who could collect her? One of your sisters? Lola?”

  Anna gave a little prayer of thanks for small towns. Of course they all knew the setup. “I’m sure one of them can. I’ll give them a call now. Can I talk to Ellen first?”

  The woman’s voice was lowered. “She’s fallen asleep. It might be best not to wake her for the moment.”

  “Of course. Right. I’ll call home straightaway.”

  Ten minutes later it was all sorted. Bett had been back at the motel for lunch and had answered the phone, listening closely as Anna explained the situation. “Of course, I’ll go and get her now. I’ll ring you as soon as I get back.”

  Hanging up, Anna realized that the back of her neck was damp with sweat and the churning feeling in her stomach had returned. Ellen in trouble and here she was hundreds of kilometers away. Thank God for families. What did people do when they didn’t have sisters they could call on to help? Then she remembered. Exactly what she’d done for the past three years. Felt desperately alone.

  Anna felt the phone vibrate against her leg just as she was voicing the segment about the different methods of pregnancy testing. It was her turn to stop the tape. “Sorry, Bob. I’ll be right back.”

  She answered it outside. “Bett? Is she all right?”

  Bett’s voice was low. “No, she’s really upset. Crying a lot. She’s with Lola at the moment. She’s trying to put her back to sleep.”

  “What happened?”

  “The kids were picking on her. A gang of them.”

  “What were they doing?”

  Bett paused. “Calling her scarface.”

  Anna had never felt such rage. “The little fuckers. The mean little fuckers. That’s it, I’m taking her out of school. Can you tell her I’ll be home tonight, as soon as I can get a flight, but she’s not to worry, she’ll never have to go back there again.”

  “Lola said—”

  “I don’t care what Lola said. She’s my child, Bett, and she’s not going back to that school again. Put Lola on.”

  A minute went past, then Lola’s Irish voice came on the line. “She’s sleeping now, Anna. Poor little mite. She was very upset.”

  “Of course she was. And she’s not going back there again, Lola. I’m getting a flight tonight, and she’ll stay home with me tomorrow. I’ll teach her from now on myself if I have to.”

  “I thought you’d say that. But what about your work? Didn’t you say it was three days’ worth? You don’t have to rush back. We’re all here. She’s fine with us. We’ll spoil her rotten tonight and then tomorrow I’ll take her to school myself.”

  “Lola, didn’t you hear me? She’s not going back to that school.”

  “It’s the best thing to do. She has to face her fears.”

  Anna lost her temper. “Don’t you tell me about facing fears, Lola. I have seen that child face more fears than you and I ever had to face. I’ve seen her face nearly ripped away by a dog’s teeth, and those little, those little fuckheads at the school dare to tease her about it.”

  “They are seven-year-old children, Anna. They don’t know they’re being cruel. It’s just the way kids are. And that’s why she needs to go back, to show them they haven’t won.”

  “It’s not a matter of winning or losing. I just don’t want her to be hurt anymore. She’s not going back, Lola. I’ll be home as soon as I can, no matter what you say.”

  “Anna, I know you’re upset but please don’t talk to me in that way. Stay there. Bett and I are here with Ellen. She’ll be fine tonight. I think you’re wrong, but if you don’t want her to go to school tomorrow, then that’s fine, she won’t. I’ll keep her here with me. But don’t cancel your trip, or rush home yet. You said this job was an important one.”

  The tension was draining from her. “It is.”

  “Then finish it. And I will watch over Ellen like she has never been watched over before, I promise. I’ll get her to ring you when she wakes up. And you can ring her again tomorrow. All day long if you want.”

  Anna realized she was right. “I’m sorry, Lola. Sorry for swearing.”

  “That’s all right, darling.”

  Lola let Ellen sleep for an hour or so, gave her a sandwich, then decided it was time for a little walk and a little talk. “You and me and Bumper need to spend some time together, I think.”

  Hand in hand, with Ellen holding Bumper by his lead, they set off slowly along the perimeter of the motel. Lola pointed out different trees, a galah on a branch, curling bark, even a lizard sunbaking on a rock, before heading over to the bench Jim had set up especially for her. Halfway up the hill, it had a wonderful view over the vineyards. The bench looked almost golden with the late afternoon light streaming onto it. Lola sat down with Ellen beside her, Bumper in front of them, safely tethered, slowly pulling on shoots of grass from under the bench, making little tugging sounds. Lola had always found sheep one of the world’s most relaxing creatures to be near. She gave him an affectionate scratch on the head. “If he was your sheep, what would you call him, Ellie?”

  “Mike,” she said without hesitation.

  “Mike the Sheep. Well, that’s an interesting one. Now, my dear little Ellie, I’ve been thinking about what happened this morning, and there’s some things I’d like to say to you. Would you like to hear them?”

  A tiny nod.

  “Ellie, do you know why the kids at school were teasing you?”

  “Because I’m horrible. Because I’m ugly, and I’ve got a horrible scar.” The tears started coming again.

  Lola pulled her close with her good arm, held her tight, and waited for the tears to quell again. “No, that’s not the reason. They teased you because they’re scared of you. Because you look a bit different. And people have always been scared of people who look different. Do you know what a scar actually is, Ellie?”

  “It’s what happened when the dog—” The rest of her words were lost in a shuddering sob.

  Lola waited a moment again, and then turned Ellen around so they were face-to-face. “A scar is a sign that you’ve survived something, Ellie. That something happened to you but your body was so strong and clever it joined itself up again. Have you told the kids at school what happened?”

  A shake of the head. “Mum says to just ignore them.”

  “Well, most times Mum is right, but sometimes it’s good for people to know the whole story.”

  Ellen twisted away. “I don’t want them to know the whole story. I don’t want them to know anything. I never want to see them again.”

  “Good idea. Let’s run away together, shall we?”

  Ellen went still. “What do you mean?”

  “If those children are being mean to my beautiful great-granddaughter, then I never want to see them again either. We’ll run away together. Where shall we go?”

  A shrug.

  Lola continued. “Good. I’ll decide, then. We’re going to go to a land where everyone is a little bit different, and that way we won’t stand out. What do you say to that?”

  She had Ellen’s complete attention now. “What land?
”

  “Well, let’s think about it. I’m really old, and I get called things like ‘dear’ and ‘poor old thing’ and spoken to in a strange voice and I don’t like it much. Do you know what I heard a young man in the charity shop call me last month? An old wrinklehead. Isn’t that rude? So I want there to be lots of wrinkled old people there so I don’t stand out. And I think we should have lots of really tall people there, too, because they get called names, too, don’t they? And overweight people, because they get called Fatty and Chubster, don’t they? And people with red hair get called names. And people with no hair. And people with glasses.”

  “And people with big noses,” Ellen said in a little voice.

  “Yes. And tiny chins. And big bottoms. And bad teeth. Or no teeth. Or teeth that are too big. Or people with broken bones like me. People in wheelchairs. Heavens, it’s getting pretty crowded in that land, isn’t it?”

  “No one with scars like me, though.”

  “Of course there will be. There’ll be lots of people with scars. Don’t you think you’re going to be the Scar Queen there, young lady. You can be the Princess of Scars perhaps. So let’s see. We’ll start with Harry Potter, will we? He’s got a terrific scar across his forehead.”

  “He’s not real.”

  “It’s our land so we can have whoever we like, whether they’re real or not. I’ve got a scar, you know. On my leg, from when I was kicked by a horse when I was a little girl.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “I’ll show you one day, when I’m not all trussed up in support tights. I’ll probably have a scar on my head, too, when this silly thing heals.” She touched the small bandage on her forehead. “Your mum has got a scar, too. Did you know that?”

  “Has she?”

  Was Ellen too young to learn that she’d been born by Caesarean section? Perhaps. “That’s a very special scar, and you should ask her about it one day, get her to show you. Your grandfather’s got a scar, too. I’ll get him to show you when he comes home. On his knee. He took a terrible tumble down some stairs once when he was a little fellow. Auntie Bett probably has one, too, from when she fell off her bike once. I think Carrie’s got one as well. We’ll have to form a scar club in this land we all live in.”

  Ellen was giggling now. “When do we get to go there?”

  “We’re already here.”

  “At the motel? This is it?” She sounded very disappointed.

  “Not just here, Ellie,” Lola said matter-of-factly. “It’s here in the Valley, here in Australia, here in the whole world, with all sorts of different people who look different in all sorts of ways. Because no one is perfect, darling, not a single one of us. We all have something a bit different about us, scars or big noses or small feet or crooked teeth. And that’s not going to change no matter where we go to live. What we have to do, you and I, is work out the best way for you to get by here, as happily as you can.”

  “But not at that school.”

  “Not for a day or two perhaps. Not yet, anyway.” Lola had had another idea, but it was probably too soon to mention it to Ellen. “But I hereby promise that we’ll do all we can to make things as good for you as they can be. And that is enough about that for now.” She stood up with an exaggerated groan. “Come on then, Princess Scar. Shall we go in and see what they’re planning for dinner?”

  A little sparkle was back in Ellen’s eyes. “Yes, Granny Wrinklehead.”

  Lola squeezed her hand. “It’s Great-Granny Wrinklehead, you scalawag.”

  The following morning Lola let Ellen sleep in. If she had been her child, the little girl would definitely have been back in school the next day. But Anna had insisted. So a day off it was.

  They spent the morning together. She and Ellen had their breakfast in the motel kitchen, then Ellen helped the cleaners do a couple of the rooms, carrying in fresh linen and new packets of biscuits. Ellen seemed bright enough, Lola thought, watching her playing, but there was a tight quality about her. Tension, imminent tears.

  Anna arrived home late that afternoon, driving at great speed into the carpark. Ellen had been listening for her. Lola watched with interest as she changed moods in an instant. One moment she had been playing very happily with her dolls—some complicated scenario involving one set of dolls trying to book into a motel the other set of dolls were running, but not liking the rooms. Lola had started to lose track. Then, at the sound of Anna’s car, she started crying and ran out to her mother, wailing at the top of her voice, “Mummy, Mummy.”

  Anna pulled her tight and held her close, the two of them staying like that for some time. They ate dinner together, Ellen still teary, needing to be fed like a toddler. The evening before she had used a knife and fork without any problem, Lola recalled. She nearly needed to tape her mouth shut to keep the comments in. Ellen was Anna’s daughter. It was up to Anna to raise her as she saw fit, she told herself. But what if there is another, possibly better, way to approach this? she also asked herself.

  Once Ellen was in bed, a tortuous enough exercise, with more tears and tantrums, Lola made a pot of tea and took it into the bar, where Anna was alone, curled up in one of the big chairs, looking at the TV, but in a dazed way. She was still a picture, Lola thought, but so slender these days, fragile even. “Anna, darling, some tea?”

  Anna smiled gratefully. “You’ve come to lecture me, haven’t you? Tell me where I’m going wrong with Ellen. What a bad mother I am. That I’ve made the wrong decision taking her out of school.”

  “I think you’re a wonderful mother. I think Ellen is a wonderful child. But there might be other ways to approach this situation.” She told Anna about her conversation with Ellen the previous day. As she expected, Anna wasn’t happy.

  “Lola, I don’t want you to call her Princess Scar. It’s not funny.”

  “It’s not meant to be funny. It’s a new psychological treatment. The more you expose someone to something, the less frightened they are of it. I read about it in the paper. They do it with spiders, slowly expose someone to—”

  “I don’t care if you have the backing of the Harvard Medical School. I don’t like you calling my daughter Princess Scar.”

  “What about Scar?”

  “Fine. You call her Scar and I’ll tell her to call you Great-Grandmother. Old Grandma. The Old Bag.”

  Lola smiled. “All right. I’ll stop calling her Princess Scar. But I mean it, Anna. You can’t keep taking her out of situations each time they get tricky for her. So you take her out of this school, move her to a new one, and the same thing happens there. Then what? You take her out of there as well? Try another school? What will that do to the poor little girl, being moved in and out of schools like that?”

  “You and Dad did it to the three of us all our lives.”

  “Touché.” Lola smiled. “But every few years is not the same as every few weeks. And Ellen is facing different things than you three had to put up with. You need to make her stronger, braver, not more cowardly.”

  “My daughter is not a coward.”

  Lola held up her hand. “No, she is most definitely not. But she knows how to cry when it suits her, and she knows how to upset you.”

  Anna was silent.

  “She’ll get through this, Anna; she will. But you need to help her, make her brave. You can’t protect her all the time.”

  Anna opened her mouth, wanting to tell Lola everything—about Glenn, about their marriage being over, about the hundreds of things she wanted to protect Ellen from. But it was too much and the words stuck in her throat.

  Lola was watching, waiting, then moved over to her. “I am an interfering old woman, Anna, but I think I am right. I think Ellen has to go back to school, face them again. It’ll be for the best, you wait and see.”

  “All right.” Anna’s voice was low.

  “Are you sure you’re up to the rehearsals tonight? I can cancel them if you want.”

  Anna smiled, a little shakily. “You know yourself. The show must g
o on.”

  Anna walked Ellen to school the following day. She was called back before eleven A.M. to collect Ellen once more. The other children had been teasing her again.

  After she’d put Ellen to bed, Anna confronted Lola. “Oh, that really made her brave. Not just Scarface today, but Chicken as well, because she hadn’t been to school yesterday. And then they finished it with Crybaby, when she started crying. Shall we send her back again this afternoon so they can really finish her off, Lola? I’ll kill them. Little bastards.”

  “Do they actually know what happened to her? Know why she has that scar?”

  “Oh, yes. I went in and sat every single one of them down and explained that Ellen had been attacked by a dog and that things had been very rough for her and that they should be admiring her, not attacking her. Of course they don’t. Do you think I wanted to draw any more attention to her than she needed?”

  “I think that’s exactly what you should do. I think you should go in and sit down and tell every one of those little bastards, as you call them, what happened to Ellen. Show them the photos. Let them ask Ellen questions. And then see what happens.”

  “What good will that do?”

  “I think it will help them understand.” Lola could see Anna’s hurt, and could also see her desperation. “Trust me, Anna.”

  Lola rang her friend the principal that afternoon. They had a long discussion and set a time and date. She found a letter and some photos she had received from Anna several months after Ellen was attacked, showing what good progress she had made. Lola rang Frank in the electrical shop and asked him to make up several more slides as quickly as he could. Then she sat down with Anna and Ellen and put her suggestion to them.

  Three mornings later, Anna stood in front of a classroom of seven-year-olds, more nervous than she had ever been onstage or in a recording studio. The teacher hushed the children, then introduced her.

  “This is Anna, Ellen Green’s mother. She wants to talk to you about what happened to Ellen, and I’d like you all to listen and watch closely.”