Awake and Dreaming (10 page)

He had such a comfortable voice and his eyes twinkled behind their glasses. Theo shyly returned his smile and gulped down delicious mouthfuls of pasta.

After dinner Theo sat in the living-room and watched Dan—
Dad
—carefully start a fire with newspaper and kindling.

“We're only allowed to watch two TV programs a day,” said Lisbeth. “It's so unfair!”

Theo thought it was peaceful. Everyone sat in the large, cluttered room doing something. Mum and Dad read the paper, John did his math homework, Anna read a book, Ben played with Lego, and Lisbeth lay on her stomach, drawing pictures of guinea pigs wearing clothes. Theo sat down beside Ben and helped him build a castle. But she kept lifting her head and gazing at the family. They still seemed too perfect to be real.

At seven-thirty Dad took Ben upstairs to give him a bath. Theo joined the others around the dining-room table for a game of Monopoly. Then Mum looked at her watch and said, “Bedtime, girls.”

“Not
yet,
” complained Lisbeth. But she led Theo and Anna up the stairs and they got into their pyjamas and brushed their teeth. Dad came up and sat on Theo's bed while they settled on each side of him. He was holding a book with a worn leather cover.

“I thought we'd start something new tonight, in honour of Theo,” he said. He opened up the book. “This is a story by a man called Rudyard Kipling. It's called ‘The Cat That Walked by Himself.'”

His deep voice began: “‘Hear and attend and listen; for this befell and behappened and became and was, O my Best Beloved, when the Tame animals were wild.'”

It was the most wonderful story Theo had ever heard—eery and enchanting and completely satisfying.

“‘… when the moon gets up and night comes, he is
the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to him. Then he goes out to the Wet Wild Woods or up the Wet Wild Trees or on the Wet Wild Roofs, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone,'” finished Dad.

Beardsley, who had been lying in Lisbeth's lap, stood up and stalked out of the room with his tail straight up in the air. They all laughed.

“He was listening!” said Lisbeth. “But Bingo's not a proper dog, Daddy, because he never chases Beardsley.”

“Bingo doesn't know he's a dog,” said Dad. “He thinks he's a person. Time for bed, now.”

He tucked each of them in and kissed them. His beard tickled.

A few minutes later Mum came up and kissed them too. “Anna's allowed to read for half an hour,” she said. “You can too, Theo.”

“I'm too sleepy to read,” said Theo.

“Good night, then,” said Mum. “I'm so glad you've come to us.”

Theo was half-awake when Anna turned out her light. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Do you want a drink of water or anything?”

“I'm okay.”

“Good night, then. See you in the morning.”

“Good night,” whispered Theo.

She wriggled further into her pink flannel nest, hugging Peppermint and Hoot. She had a flash of longing for Sabrina, but she closed her eyes against any thoughts of her real life. The perfect day was over.

9

T
heo was afraid to open her eyes the next morning. She was sure she'd be back on the ferry, waking up after the most incredible dream of her life. But she heard someone thump out of the upper bunk. Then Anna was bouncing on Theo's feet. “Good morning!” She grinned. “I can't believe you're really here!”

“Neither can I,” said Theo, grinning just as wide.

Lisbeth threw her pillow at them and they started a wild fight until Dad stuck his head in and told them to get dressed.

“Can't Theo go to school with us today?” asked Lisbeth at breakfast.

“No, I want to take her shopping for clothes,” said Mum.

“Can I come?” cried Lisbeth and Anna at the same time.

Mum shook her head. “It would be too hard to concentrate with you two along. If she feels like it, she can go to school with you tomorrow. What do you think, Theo?”

“Maybe,” whispered Theo, because the girls looked so eager. But she didn't want to go to school—this blissful bubble might burst.

Ben had gone with Dad and the other children left
too. Then Mum and Theo got into the van and drove to a mall. Mum was a swift, efficient shopper. They whisked in and out of several stores where she bought Theo more clothes than she'd ever owned in her life.

Jeans, T-shirts, leggings with tunic tops, sweaters … purple runners, black party shoes, yellow gum boots … a hooded raincoat, a blue fleecy jacket like Anna's … pastel underwear, dozens of colourful socks, several pairs of tights … a bathing suit, pyjamas, a nightgown and a housecoat … and a beautiful purple flowered dress that came with a matching headband.

“There!” said Mum. “With these and Anna's hand-me-downs you should be set until summer. I hope you don't mind that some of your clothes are secondhand, Theo.”

Theo was speechless. When they got home, she helped Mum cut off the price tags and hang up the new clothes, plus some that used to belong to Anna, in the space Mum had cleared for her in the closet. Dad had brought up a little dresser just for her. Theo lovingly placed her underwear, T-shirts and sweaters in it.

“I've hardly ever had
new
clothes,” she said.

Mum looked surprised. “Well, it's about time you did. Why don't you change out of those baggy jeans and put on something of your own? The others will be home soon.”

Theo took a long time deciding. Finally she picked purple leggings, a purple and yellow top and yellow socks. She tied up the brand new laces on her brand new runners.

The second pair of new shoes she'd had this year! She remembered the ones Rae had bought her.

“Mum …” she said slowly. “Where's—where's my
real
mother? Where's Rae?”

Then she wished she hadn't asked. But she didn't need to worry. Laura kept her back to Theo as she continued to hang up clothes. She either hadn't heard or didn't want to answer.

“Theo! You look wonderful!” said Anna, as she and Lisbeth burst into the room. They examined all the new clothes. Anna brushed back Theo's hair and secured it with two purple barrettes. “There—you're perfect!”

“You're
beautiful,
Theo,” said Lisbeth. She gazed at Theo the way Bingo gazed at Dad.

After lunch Mum took Theo out again, this time to get her hair cut. “What lovely thick curls!” said the hairdresser. When she'd finished, Theo's hair stood out around her face in a soft dark circle. She gazed at the smiling purple and yellow girl in the mirror and felt more than ever that this must be magic.

W
HEN THEY GOT BACK
, Mum showed Theo her studio. The small room was crammed with jars of pencils and paints, wide shallow drawers full of paper, and more felt pens than Theo had ever seen at one time. Drawings were pinned all over the walls, of cartoony children playing or animals in clothes. Some of the children looked like the Kaldors.

“Did you do all these?” asked Theo in awe.

Laura nodded. “Here, I'll draw something for you.” She took out a square of paper and a black pen. Like
magic she sketched a picture of Beardsley curled in a ball and handed it to Theo.

“To
keep
?”

“Of course!” said Mum. “Would you like to draw something while I finish this card?”

She sat Theo down at a little table beside a wide sloping desk. “Each of the children has drawn here while I work, although none of them could sit for long. John was the most patient, but Ben's impossible—he doesn't last more than five minutes.”

Theo gazed at the creamy piece of paper in front of her—it seemed too good to mark. She thought a moment, then picked up an orange felt pen and began to draw the arbutus tree in the backyard. It was fun to add brown for the peeling bark and different greens for the leaves.

“That's wonderful, Theo!” said Mum. “You've really
looked
at that tree!”

“You can keep it,” whispered Theo.

“Thank you! Did you sign it?” Theo wrote her name in the lower right corner, where Mum had in her picture of Beardsley. Then Mum pinned it over her desk.

“I need to finish this design today,” she said. “Will you be all right playing on your own until the others get home?”

Theo nodded; she longed to explore. First she took Mum's drawing and taped it to the wall beside her bed. Then she began to go over every inch of the house. If this did turn out to be a dream, she wanted to remember it forever.

She had never seen as much luxury. Bedrooms with beds covered in soft quilts, and full of toys, games and clothes. Two bathrooms with soft fluffy towels and many bottles of shampoo and lotions. Four telephones! Soft chairs, rugs and pretty pictures on the walls, tables piled with magazines, a piano. Not only a TV, but a VCR, a stereo, a CD player and a computer. A washer and dryer, an iron, a toaster, a blender, a microwave and dozens of dishes. In the basement she found bicycles, skis, skate-boards, skates with blades and skates with wheels, and a toboggan. And everywhere, shelves and shelves of books.

The house was warm and clean and although some of the furniture was shabby, it wasn't broken. Theo hadn't spotted a mouse or a cockroach since she'd been here. The refrigerator and cupboards were crammed with food. The van was parked in the driveway and Dad had driven a smaller car to work.

“You must be very rich!” Theo told Mum back in the studio.

“Rich?” Mum laughed. “We've never thought of ourselves as rich! We have a large mortgage and it's a real struggle to pay for things like John's music lessons and Anna's braces. The cars are both getting old but we can't afford a new one, and we really need to add another room.”

“But you have so much!” said Theo.

Mum looked at her. “Yes,” she said quietly. “We have so much. We're very, very lucky.” She gave Theo a hug. “And now we have you, too.”

T
HEO SHOOK HER HEAD
when Mum asked her if she wanted to go to school the next morning. Mum said gently, “You're just not ready, are you? I'll tell you what—you can stay home for the rest of this week if you try to be brave enough to go on Monday—is it a deal?”

Theo nodded. Maybe she wouldn't be here next week. Maybe the dream would end by then.

She had now decided that being here
was
a dream. In the books she'd read magic had always made sense; it was never as simple as just wishing on the new moon. She'd probably fallen asleep on the ferry and
dreamt
she'd wished.

If she had come here by magic, there would be an explanation. Anna or Lisbeth would say, “Isn't it wonderful that your wish came true?” But no one had said that. No one asked Theo any questions or referred to her past or thought that it was in any way odd that she was here. And the two times she'd asked them they didn't seem to hear. It
didn't
make sense—so it must be a dream.

And only in a dream could anyone be as happy as she felt. Only in a dream could everything be so easy. She didn't have to do anything. She was simply
here
—bathed in love and acceptance, soaking up this wonderful family and their safe and comfortable life.

Theo floated through the rest of the week, trying not to think about waking up. Sometimes she watched Mum work, or she read or she played with Beardsley, trailing a bit of string for him to attack. Often she just lay dozily on the living-room couch, watching the birds at the feeder outside the window. The morning silence was broken by
the noisy arrival of the others home for lunch. Theo sat passively and soaked up the stories they told her.

In the afternoons, after Ben woke up from his nap, Theo took him and Bingo for a walk—although it felt as though they were taking her. Sometimes they climbed up the mountain, and sometimes they explored the cemetery; Mum said they weren't to go to the beach without the others. Theo held Ben's hand as they crossed the street, just like a big sister.

Ben often made Theo attach Bingo's leash to his belt loop so he could be a horse that she ordered to walk or trot or gallop. Or he wanted her to be his partner in a game—another pirate or another warrior. It was relaxing to act like a four-year-old.

“When I was little, I pretended I was a fairy,” she told him.

“A fairy!” scoffed Ben. “I'm a
knight
! You can be my squire, okay? Bingo's a dragon.” They galloped along the path in the cemetery after Bingo, Ben waving his plastic sword.

After school they returned to the cemetery with Anna and Lisbeth. Then they played hide-and-seek, crouching behind the vaults or bushes or trees and trying not to shout “Home Free!” too loud. But whenever they passed a cemetery gardener, he just smiled at them.

They always ended up resting at the foot of their favourite angel. On Friday afternoon John found them there on his way home from his friend's. Theo edged closer to him as he sat down. John didn't usually play with
them—he was in grade seven, after all.
He
was like a knight, thought Theo—gentle and kind and brave. Yesterday he had picked up a garter snake in the yard and put it back in the bushes.

They watched some men near them dig a deep hole. “I bet someone's going to be buried there!” said Lisbeth.

“That's unusual,” said John. “Dad said most of the spaces in this cemetery are taken up.”

“Imagine being put under the ground and staying there forever and forever,” shuddered Anna.

“You wouldn't know,” said John. “You'd be dead.”

“Well, imagine being
dead
. Not being able to see or hear or breathe.” Anna turned her back on the hole.

“Being dead is just like having a long sleep,” said Lisbeth. “That's what Mummy said when Grandpa died.”

“No it isn't—you turn into an angel, like that one,” said Ben, pointing up to the statue. “Peter's grandma is an angel.” Peter was his best friend.