Gardens in the Dunes (41 page)

She smelled a heavenly perfume and turned to a plant as tall as she was, with handsome dark leaves and little white bell-shape flowers. “Smell this!” Indigo called to Hattie, who did not recognize the plant until Aunt Bronwyn teased her about not knowing this most American of plants, white-flowering nicotiana, tobacco.

The south and west gardens were planted with flowers among the vegetables, with herbs and medicinal plants scattered among them, since they preferred to grow together to protect one another from insects. Indigo caught the scent of the datura before she recognized the plant because it was taller than she was, its blossoms the size of saucers. She pressed her face against the big flower and inhaled so deeply its pollen tickled her nose.

“Hello, old friend. You sure grow tall in England. Are you trying to get closer to the sun?” She showed Rainbow the round spiny seed pods of the datura but told him it was not polite to take it; when she got him back home he could have as many spiny seed pods as he wanted.

She was only a little way into the tomatoes and the bush beans when she looked to the far edge of the west garden and caught a glimpse of the brightest colors, lush flowers on handsome stalks almost as tall as she! The reds, oranges, pinks, and purples of the flowers were so saturated with color they seemed to glow above graceful narrow leaves of deep green. Indigo loved the fancy ones with different colors—white centers and white edges or even spotted petals. These flowers! Sister and Mama would love flowers like these! Aunt Bronwyn was happy to tell her about the gladiolus; originally they were brought from Africa but they'd undergone a great many changes by the hybridizers.

Hattie asked about the medicinal plants. Yes, a great many did require shade and damp—monkshood, belladonna, gentian, valerian—but ways could be found to grow almost any plant, though one might have to take it into one's bed as the old German orchid collectors did every night all winter.

Hattie explained the run-down gardens of the Riverside house as well as Indigo's interest in plants and seeds had renewed her interest in gardening. A medicinal garden would be just the thing for that area of sparse lawn by the lilacs. The location got plenty of sun with just enough afternoon shade for the heat-sensitive plants.

Indigo was captivated by the gladiolus for reasons Hattie could not imagine; hybrid gladiolus seemed to her garish and artificial, though Aunt Bronwyn's clever placement of them did show off their best qualities quite
nicely. Hattie tried to interest her in a stand of silvery Casa Blanca lilies, but Indigo wanted to examine a spike of burgundy flowers edged in pink.

While the child roamed among the gladiolus, Aunt Bronwyn pointed out the more modest species of gladiolus and the little white and red gladiolus that grew wild in the hills above the Mediterranean. This was to have been the last year she was going to bother planting the tender hybrid gladiolus, but Indigo's enthusiasm for the long bed of the tall silver and burgundy gladiolus changed her mind. She would plant them every year in honor of their visit and Indigo's enthusiasm for gladiolus.

As Aunt Bronwyn and Indigo paused to watch a big toad catch gnats, Hattie turned to survey the garden and caught a glimpse of another doorway in the west wall, overgrown with a fragrant white climbing rose. She thought she'd like to take a look, but the twilight was fading. Better to wait until tomorrow.

Before she went downstairs for dinner, Indigo put the parrot in his cage; the pupils of his eyes enlarged and he began to shriek; she begged him to please be quiet, she would come right back; but the parrot would have none of that. Indigo knew they expected her at dinner but she didn't want the parrot's screaming to upset Edward and Hattie.

She sat with the parrot until there was a gentle knock at the door and Aunt Bronwyn came in. Was everything all right? Was the bed comfortable? Indigo decided Aunt Bronwyn would understand, so she admitted she didn't care to sleep in beds at all—she moved the bedding to the floor at night but replaced it first thing in the morning. Hattie knew, but Edward didn't. Aunt Bronwyn seemed interested in how she got along with Edward. He was nice, but he didn't like the parrot's screeching; that was why she hadn't come down to dinner; the parrot didn't want her to go. Aunt Bronwyn took the brass handle of the cage herself and they walked downstairs together.

In the long narrow room that had been the old chapel, they sat around a massive round table Aunt Bronwyn called King Arthur's table because it was so old. Long deep scratches marred its surface, and she laughed and said those were marks from the daggers and swords of the Knights of the Round Table. The coachman's wife served roast chicken, fresh green beans, and potatoes, with carrot cake for dessert. After dinner they did not sit up long because they wanted to get an early start the next morning. Aunt Bronwyn had so much she wanted to show them.

Indigo made a wonderful nest with the sheet and blankets on the floor; Aunt Bronwyn helped her pull the bedding loose and told her she needn't
move it from the floor in the morning. Now Indigo felt so much more comfortable. The parrot slept perched on the cage top with his head tucked under his wing; Indigo wondered what he dreamed—probably he dreamed of his old home in the flowery jungle where he used to fly free with his sisters and mother. Indigo felt a heaviness in her chest and tears filled her eyes; she missed Sister and Mama so much, and poor little Linnaeus was left behind. The tears made her face hot and then she felt hot all over and kicked away the sheet and blankets and pushed the pillow to one side so her cheek and ear touched the cool stone floor. She drifted off to sleep listening to the gurgles deep in the belly of the earth; the sounds were more watery here in England.

Hattie dreamed she was walking under the big elms and oaks in the park at the Boston Commons. A cool fall breeze blew across her face. How bright and alive the red maple leaves and golden oak leaves appeared, backlit by the sun; they shimmered so close to her face Hattie reached out to touch them. She woke with a start, shivering, aware she was lying outdoors in the dark. She had not walked in her sleep since she was a child. The sky was clear; how brightly the stars lit the night. She recognized the garden stepping-stones across from her, but she was surprised to find herself lying on a long flat horizontal stone in a raised flower bed. She sat up and saw her feet and the edge of her nightgown were caked with dried mud. As her eyes became accustomed to the light, she realized she was in a part of the garden she had not seen before; only the high stone walls were familiar. It appeared to be an old, abandoned garden of some sort, oddly adorned by stones, many of them broken, carefully sited in the raised parterres with the sweet bay and dandelions.

Hattie stood up, shivering, her arms folded around herself, and realized the stone she'd been lying on was the stone from the dream she'd had in Oyster Bay. In that dream, the stone lay in a churchyard cemetery with old tombstones; of course, Aunt Bronwyn's garden was once a churchyard. What an odd coincidence this was! If her feet had not been so cold, she might have thought she was dreaming. The cool night air was sweet with the scent of river willows and roses. As she followed the stone path out of the abandoned garden she heard a strange noise ahead of her—a loud knock. The loud knock sounded again and to Hattie the sound resembled a club of wood against wood. When she reached the gateway between the two gardens, she saw a strange glow emanating from within. Hattie took deep breaths to calm herself. The light appeared to be on the far side of the grape arbor. At first she mistook the light for a lantern's glow—were they
searching for her? But as she observed it longer, Hattie realized the glow was too soft to be a lantern. The loud knock sounded again, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up; she saw something luminous white move through the foliage of the corn plants and the tall sunflowers. Her heart beat faster as she heard the soft rhythmic sound of breathing approach her. She felt a strange stir of excitement and dread at what she would see when she stepped through the gateway. The luminosity of the light was astonishing: was she awake or asleep? How beautiful the light was! Her apprehension and dread receded; now a prismatic aura surrounded the light. It was as if starlight and moonlight converged over her as a warm current of air enveloped her; for an instant Hattie felt such joy she wept.

When she reached the front of the house, Hattie found lanterns lit and the coachman and Aunt Bronwyn up and about. They appeared surprised to see her. Embarrassed, Hattie assumed they were looking for her, but no, the cattle were loose, through an open gate or break in the fence—they were not sure, but the white cattle were everywhere. Three cows and their calves browsed on white climbing roses in front of the house, unconcerned with the commotion. Hattie assured her aunt she was unharmed, but the old woman looked intently at her as if she was not convinced. The eastern sky was already bright pink with the approaching dawn.

Aunt Bronwyn said the sleepwalk might be due to the excitement of their arrival; travel was quite taxing on the nerves, as she learned on a recent trip. She was so exhausted by the train ride from Trieste to Budapest, she hallucinated bad odors in her hotel room. Hattie's heartbeat quickened at the mention of hallucination; the light she saw was no hallucination. Aunt Bronwyn thought perhaps the breakout by the cattle disturbed her sleep and caused the episode.

Hattie shook her head. She feared she might be the culprit who left open both the gates. She pointed at the mud on her feet and the edge of her nightgown, evidence she'd walked as far as the puddle outside the orchard gate, though she remembered nothing of the sleepwalk.

Edward was alarmed about Hattie's sleepwalk. What if she sleepwalked off the deck of the ship? Should they consult a doctor? Edward wanted to postpone his trip to London, but Hattie insisted he take the noon train as planned for his meeting with the Kew Gardens staff. She felt a bit strange after her sleepwalk, but she certainly wasn't ill; there was no reason for Edward to miss his appointment.

Hattie wanted time alone to reflect on her experience in the garden.
She promised to rest for an hour or two, but later, in the darkened bedroom, Hattie tossed and turned but did not sleep soundly; she could not stop thinking about what she had seen. Her thoughts raced—what had she seen, luminous and white, moving through the foliage of Aunt Bronwyn's corn plants and sunflowers? The memory of that instant caused Hattie to weep again with the joy she felt with all her being. Thoughts raced through her mind in swift-moving torrents—glittering and flashing. Words from her thesis notes cascaded before her mind's eye, then suddenly scattered as if suddenly the words were dry leaves blowing away in the wind: poor judgment, bad timing, late marriage, premature marriage, dread of childbirth, sexual dysfunction.

Hattie tried to calm herself with deep breathing but managed to doze for only brief periods. The rooms of the Riverside house would not let her be—that house presided over by her dead mother-in-law intruded into her thoughts, room by room followed by the gardens overgrown and sparse and the glass house of orchid skeletons in pots all around the monkey's cage. Suddenly she realized they must help the Indian child return to her sister and mother! This was all wrong! How foolish she had been!

The rush of thoughts so unnerved Hattie she got up and went downstairs, where she found Aunt Bronwyn and Indigo at lunch on the round table. The child listened to the old woman name King Arthur's knights. They had such strange names; Indigo was confident she could remember them all and tell Sister.

Morfran was so ugly everyone thought he worked for the devil; he had hair on him like a stag. Sandde Angel Face was never attacked in combat because he was so beautiful enemy soldiers mistook him for an angel on the battlefield. Henbeddstr never found a man who could run as fast as he could, and Henwas the Winged never found a four-legged animal as fast as he. Scili the Light-footed could walk above the treetops or above the rushes of the river. Drem could be in Cornwall and see a gnat rise in the morning sun in Scotland. Cynr of the Beautiful Beard endured water and fire better than anyone; when he carried burdens, small or large, the burdens were never seen. If Gwalloig went to a village in need of something, no one in the village could sleep until he got what he needed. Osla of the Big Knife carried a short broadsword he lay across rivers as a bridge so the knights and their horses crossed safely. Gilla Stag Leg could jump three hundred acres in a single leap. Sol could stand all day on one leg.

Stories like these were Indigo's favorites; she could hardly wait to tell Sister. In Needles there had been a Navajo woman, and she used to tell the
girls stories about long ago when there were giants, and humans and animals still spoke the same language. Indigo told Aunt Bronwyn about the wounded giant's drops of blood that became the black lava peaks as the giant fled the attack of the Twin Brothers.

Now the rainbow bird refused to go inside his cage, but perched on the cage top at night or whenever Indigo put him down. After lunch, they went to survey the white bull's damage to the corn; by midday light the garden looked very different than she had seen it the night before in the glowing light. They followed Aunt Bronwyn to the back wall; the parrot rode Indigo's shoulder with confidence, squawking and flapping his wings whenever they went outdoors.

Aunt Bronwyn led them to the stone gateway at the back of the garden, the entrance to the stone garden, as she called it; Hattie recognized it at once as the place she woke hours earlier. In the midday light the stone garden looked much different than it had the night before. Hattie examined the vertical stones, which seemed much taller in the darkness. She searched for the long flat stone from the night before, from her dream, which she distinctly remembered being near the tall vertical stones; but she didn't find the long flat stone until she neared the back wall. Hattie asked where the stones came from—she was especially curious about the long horizontal stone.