Finding Alice (19 page)

Finally I hear her calling me to come in the kitchen and help her to set the table. I am relieved as I toss my knotted yarn in the trash beneath the sink. Like me, it is useless. I open the utensil drawer and hope I can remember where the forks and spoons go on the table tonight. So far I haven’t been able to get it perfectly straight without her help.

Tonight is no exception. She simply laughs and reminds me that the spoons go on the right and the forks on the left. I wonder if my way would’ve been correct on the other side of the window since everything is opposite over there.

As we dine on a dinner of homemade chicken noodle soup, I think about the “other” side of the window and wonder if that’s really where I belong. The place where everything is backward, like me. I think about this all night long, even after I go to bed. I pet Cheshire as he sleeps in his favorite spot, curled up on my tummy. I wonder if he would want to go with me, if he would like to live on the other side, but I am afraid he wouldn’t survive. Besides, he’s already at home here; he’s comfortable and fits in as if he’s lived here forever. He’s perfectly happy with Faye and her feline friends. And why not? He is a cat, and this is a cat house. As usual, I am the misfit again.

After a sleepless and worrisome night, I get up just before dawn. Cheshire looks at me like I’m crazy as he continues to lounge in the warm bed. I suspect he is right.

“Are you coming?” Amelia whispers impatiently. “Hurry up!”

I shush her as I quietly dress myself in the semidarkness of the room. Faye has given me some odd pieces of clothing that no longer fit her but that she didn’t want to throw away. She doesn’t like to throw out anything. Naturally, they are out of style, but I don’t mind. They are only a little too big around. Faye and I are about the same height, and she said back in her younger days she was about my size, only bustier. She said this with a smile. Today I just keep on dressing. I put on layer after layer until everything I own, except for my big coat, is on my body. It isn’t so much, really, although it does make me look fat, but I don’t mind. Then I brush out my hair, something that Faye has been encouraging me to do each day, and I put it into two messy braids that reach just past my shoulders. I don’t think to ask myself why I am doing all of this, but I suspect it means I am leaving today. I have held off Amelia as long as possible. Her patience has worn quite thin, and she’s even begun to threaten Faye. I wouldn’t like to see her harm Faye. I fear it’s time to go.

I go outside to test my layers of clothing against the weather. It’s cold and icy out there, with bushes and trees covered in a white frosty layer that makes everything look lacy and pretty. I walk around a bit, unsure if I should just leave or go back inside and wait until Faye wakes up so I can say good-bye first. I pace back and forth along the sidewalk and wonder.

“Just leave!” Amelia snaps at me. “The longer you stay, the worse it will be.”

“But what about Cheshire?” I plead.

“He’s fine. He doesn’t need you.”

“But what about Faye?”

“Faye doesn’t want you around anymore.” She says this as if she
is the expert on everything. “If you don’t leave right now, it might be too late. Faye is thinking about calling the authorities this morning. She thinks you’re crazy. You better run while you can, Alice.”

I say something in Faye’s defense to Amelia, but then I notice a neighbor, Mr. Chutney, is standing on his porch in his bathrobe. He has his newspaper in his hand, but I suspect he is using this as an excuse to stare at me. I know that Faye’s neighbors think I am weird. I have felt it in their glances. They look at me intently for a moment, then quickly look away—almost as if they haven’t seen me, but I know they have. And it’s not as if Faye is on such good terms with her neighbors either. She’s told me that they don’t approve of her keeping so many cats. Some of them accuse her cats of using their flower beds for cat boxes. Which I seriously doubt since I’ve seen them use the cat boxes in the bathroom enough. But even if they did, isn’t it a free world? Shouldn’t a cat be allowed to go where it wants to go? Apparently not.

I turn away from Mr. Chutney and continue pacing and arguing with Amelia. Telling her that the least I can do is to say thank you and good-bye. And what about Cheshire? I should say good-bye to him. Tears fill my eyes now, and I think that my life is not worth living.

“That’s right,” agrees Amelia. Suddenly I am deluged with suggestions for how to end it all. The voices are yelling at me now, so I press my hands over my ears, but it is useless. They are shouting out every possible idea for how I can end this pain. Everything from Faye’s big black butcher knife to the bridge. Finally I let my arms drop to my sides and begin to walk.

“Alice?”

I look back to see Faye standing on her porch, peering down the
street at me. She has on her aqua chenille bathrobe, and I can see that she’s shivering in the cold. “What on earth are you doing out here, dear?” She has a puzzled expression on her face.

“Just run!” yells Amelia.

Then I notice Cheshire standing beside Faye, and I know what I must do. I must go back into the house and attempt to explain in a civilized way that it’s time for me to leave. So I wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes and go back inside and tell Faye the truth. Well, some of the truth. I’m not even sure what all of the truth is.

“But where will you go?” asks Faye as she puts on the teapot. Faye doesn’t drink coffee, ever.

I slump down in her kitchen chair and groan. “I don’t know.”

She presses her lips together as if she’s thinking, then says, “Have I done something to offend you, dear?”

I shake my head no. “Oh no, of course not. It’s just me, Faye. I am … I just … well, I know that I should leave.” Then I point toward Mr. Chutney’s house as if that explains everything. “Your neighbors don’t like me staying here. I know that they want me to leave. I know they think I’m crazy.” Then I look up at her. “Don’t you think I am crazy too?”

She smiles. “I think we’re all a little crazy. And it’s not necessarily a bad thing. And as for my neighbors, well, I do try to be nice to them, but I’m sure they think I’m a little batty too. And I know they don’t care for my cats. Still, we manage to get along all right, most of the time. And when we don’t, we work together to resolve our little differences.”

“But I’ll make more problems for you.” I sigh. “I am just a great big problem.”

“Have you been happy here?”

I nod. “Yes. More than anywhere else. But I’m worried …”

“About what?”

“I don’t know. That they’re going to find me. Or that they’ll tell you lies about me, or that I’m not good enough.”

Now she sets two cups of tea on the table and sits down. “Who are you talking about, Alice? Who is going to find you or tell lies?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. I just never know for sure. But it’ll happen. It’s just a matter of time.”

She takes a sip, then gets a thoughtful look in her gray eyes. “I think I’ll call Simon,” she says decisively.

“Who’s that?” The familiar sensation of cold fear climbs up my throat and makes me feel that I’m choking. I am certain that this Simon person is with the CIA or somehow related to my mom or Pastor John or Forest Hills.

“He’s my nephew. And he’s very wise about all sorts of things. He helps me with my yard in the summertime, and sometimes he gives me rides to the grocery store when it’s time to stock up. Like today, for instance. I happen to need some groceries. I’ll see if Simon can take us to Fred Myers.” She smiles now. “I like Fred Myers. The clerks are so friendly there.” Then she proceeds to call him.

I’m not too sure about this plan or Simon for that matter, but I stay long enough to eat some breakfast and then help her with the dishes. And I sweep the floor too. I have discovered that I am quite good at sweeping. Faye says I always do a very thorough job. “Much better than I do,” she assures me. This makes me proud.

“Aren’t you a bit warm?” she asks as I set the broom back in the laundry room and close the door.

I nod.

“Perhaps you should change into something more suitable for the indoors.”

Uncertain about this suggestion, I return to the bedroom and sit down on the bed. Naturally, Amelia is already there, seething. She begins yelling at me, calling me names, threatening all of us, but I pretend that I can’t see or hear her. This makes her so angry that she storms out. I sigh in relief, then decide that it won’t hurt to remove a few layers of clothing. Just for now. I still have on two pairs of pants, though, and several shirts. After all, I tell myself, it
is
freezing cold outside. I fold the rest of the clothes and set them on the chair. Maybe it will show Amelia that she’s not welcome.

“Simon is here,” Faye calls from the kitchen.

I am uneasy about leaving the bedroom now. I’m seriously worried about this Simon fellow, afraid that he has come to get rid of me. So I sit on the bed some more and fret. Naturally, Amelia sees this as her opportunity to come back and boss me around again.

“See! I told you this would happen. You should’ve left when you had the chance.” She points to the window laced with feathers of ice. “Maybe you can climb through that.” I walk over and examine the window, but before I have a chance to open it, I hear Faye’s voice again.

“Come on out, Alice. I’ve told Simon all about you, and he wants to meet you.” She opens the door and takes me by the hand, like a little child, and leads me out to the kitchen where a dark-haired man, probably in his midtwenties, is sitting at the table and consuming one of the ginger spice cookies that I helped Faye bake yesterday morning.

“Hey,” he says with a smile as Faye introduces me. I stare at him and respond like a mute woman.

The teakettle begins to whistle again, and Faye tells me to sit down. For some reason I obey, sitting directly across from this stranger who has so suddenly invaded my safe little world. I wonder why I didn’t listen to Amelia earlier this morning. It seems she was right after all. I study the stranger. He has shaggy brown hair and dark brown eyes that appear larger than normal behind his tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses. He’s wearing a worn navy sweater over a gray T-shirt, going for the shabby preppy look I guess, as if I am the fashion expert. He has on tan cords with worn knees that look like they’ve been washed a lot. What looks like an authentic old bomber jacket is slung over the back of the chair. All in all I suppose he looks fairly harmless. But how can you ever know for sure?

Faye brings the teapot over to the table, and I scold myself for not jumping up to help her, but it’s as if I am frozen. Like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights, I am too terrified to move to the left or the right. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. Just then Cheshire jumps into my lap. Now this is somewhat comforting, and I calm down ever so slightly as I begin to stroke his soft fur. I think I am breathing now. I like the way he has been filling out these past few days. He has such an appetite that Faye thinks he’s going to turn into a roly-poly, but that’s hard to imagine.

“Who’s that?” asks the stranger, nodding toward my cat.

Still I am speechless. I just stare at him.

“That’s Cheshire,” explains Faye as she sets three cups on the table. I assume this means I am having tea with them.

“I thought he was a new face.” Simon picks up the pot as if he
lives here and pours three steaming cups of golden tea. I watch him closely as he does this, worried that he may try to slip something into my cup. While I don’t see any hanky-panky, I’m still cautious as I take a sip. I try to see if it tastes bitter or has a chalky aftertaste.

“Faye tells me you’re a student at PSU,” he says as he dips his cookie into the tea.

I assume he’s talking to me again, but I don’t know how to answer.

“She
was
a student,” adds Faye. “Didn’t you say this would be your senior year, dear?”

I glance nervously at him, then over to her, and nod. “It would be,” I say in a sober voice that sounds like someone else.

“I graduated from there,” says Simon. “Just last spring. Now I’m doing my internship.”

“Are you a doctor?” I ask, slightly relieved to break the mute spell. Also to have the questions moving away from me.

“No.” He laughs. “I actually considered it until I took a couple of chemistry classes.”

“Oh.” I want to ask him another question, to keep him off guard, but suspect I’ve already reached my word limit for this conversation.

“So I decided on psychology instead.” He finishes off his cookie.

I nod as if I think that’s a good choice, but really I couldn’t care less. I wish I could slip out of the kitchen unnoticed. I glance toward the hallway that leads to my room.

“What’s your major?” He picks up his second cookie.

I think about this for a minute. Why is it so hard to remember these things? Finally it comes to me. “English lit.”

“Now there’s a useful degree.” He laughs again. “So what do you plan to do with that?”

I shrug and look away, hoping I can simply freeze him out. I wonder what kind of desperate guy would want to pursue a conversation with a crazy loser like me anyway?

“So you ladies want to go to Fred Myers today?” He glances at his watch. “You can have me at your disposal until two o’clock. At that time I’ve promised to help Julie decorate for the Christmas party.”

I wonder who Julie is, a wife perhaps, but then I notice he wears no ring, not that this means anything. Maybe she’s a girlfriend. And why should I care anyway? Perhaps the most surprising part of his statement is the bit about the Christmas party. I keep forgetting that it’s actually that time of year. It seems we should be way past Christmas by now. Shouldn’t it be April or May? But then I remember it’s too cold for spring yet.

I notice that Faye has put on a purple felt hat with a long feather attached, and it looks quite becoming on her. She’s also wearing her fur coat, which she wears whenever she goes outside, even if it’s only to the mailbox. The coat is long and dark brown, beaver I think she said, and it’s losing hair in places, but I still think she looks quite glamorous in it. I can almost imagine her wearing it with her beloved George on their way to the Twilight Room in winter. The fact that she has on her floral pants and bright green tennis shoes only seems to add to the dramatic ensemble.