On Agate Hill (7 page)

Then I had to start laughing for I noticed that Selena and Victoria had
not even set the table right, they had put the water goblets on the wrong side. This is how much they know about ladies and good manners!

I ran outside to find Washington.

I didnt see any of them again until they rang the bell which meant,
She is coming.
Like the rest I ran to the front of the house and stood out on the piazza shading my eyes to catch the first glimpse of the wagon. All I could see was a dust cloud rising like the plume of a hat way down in the hazy hills. While I waited, here came Liddy pulling Little Junius along by the hand. She had cleaned him up for the grand arrival, with wet clean hair and a clean white shirt.

Selena and her girls stood all in a row, shading their eyes with their hands. Selena looked so different that I might not have known her if I had seen her in the street. She wore a gray O-bodice dress which had belonged to Aunt Fannie, with a white lace collar and black jet buttons running straight up the front. All that wild black hair had been pulled straight back and bound up in a big bun at the nape of her neck, exactly like a schoolteacher. She gnawed at the inside of her cheek, a habit she had, staring straight ahead. Victoria and Blanche wore shoes.

Liddy wore a white cap, and Old Bess wore her apron.

Why, it is like the Queen is coming!
I thought. My Mother Goose book sprang to mind.

Even Uncle Junius troubled himself to come out on the piazza, wearing a jacket in spite of the heat. He did not join us but stood well back, smoking a cigarette cupped in his hand, shaking his head from time to time as if he carried on some pressing conversation in his mind.

The plume of dust came closer, trailing out like a horses tail, and we could see that it was not one but two wagons coming.

Had to hire anothern in town, Selena said to nobody.

The wagons came up the lane past the old sawmill and then were lost to view in the cedar grove, popping out directly so we could all see that it was Mister Potter from the livery stable in town driving the second wagon, wearing
the stovepipe hat that was his trademark. Old Virgil clicked to the mules but made no sign as the big lady on the seat next to him waved grandly. Her face was hid by her hat and the traveling veil which wrapped all around her somehow, as if she was a great package being delivered to us.
Whoa now.
The wagons stopped in front of the house, the air was filled with dust. Washington ran out to grab the reins.

Then Uncle Junius was there too, his hand held out, saying,
Cecelia welcome.
She stepped down with the greatest of difficulty, Virgil holding her by the arm on one side and Uncle Junius on the other, her middle so big she could not hardly see over it to the steps or her feet— that was the problem. She grunted like a pig upon landing, then wheezed
Aah!
and put a hand to her heart. Liddy rushed forward and started unwinding the veil, running round and round Aunt Cecelia like a maypole until I got dizzy watching. First we saw the great wide waist, then the bosom like a huge shelf, then her puffy red face with its big red mouth, the arched eyebrows, the eyes bugging out, and the many chins that rippled like a waterfall disappearing into the wad of lace at her neck. She removed the hat from her piled up red hair and handed it over to Liddy along with the veil. Aunt Cecelias hands were little and fluttery, like the hands of another woman. They came up to pat here and there at her face and breast.

There now, she said to herself finally, then
My dear Junius
in a grand public voice, offering her cheek to be kissed.
You look terrible.
And My God, what a journey! What a journey I have had! Aunt Cecelia shook all over with distaste, so that the journey seemed to roll off her like water off a duck. But never mind! She went on, My comfort is not a consideration. The important thing is that I am here now, you poor, poor thing. Aunt Cecelia patted Uncle Junius arm then looked all about herself— at the unpainted house, at the outbuildings, at us all lined up for her inspection.

Behind her, Virgil and Spence lifted luggage and supplies down from the wagons. Selena watched them too and narrowed her eyes as trunk after trunk came down.

Rest assured, Aunt Cecelia announced, I shall take care of
everything
Junius! You may leave it all up to me!

Uncle Junius appeared embarrassed yet still supported her arm.

As for Selena, she looked like she could spit nails, and for once I did not blame her, the way we had all been working like dogs to get the house ready.

Then Aunt Cecelias roaming bug-eyed gaze settled hard on me. Molly! My dear, dear Molly, why you poor, poor little thing! She swooped me up and pressed me to her bosom which was like the horsehair sofa in the parlor, not soft like Aunt Fannies had been. Then she thrust me out at arms length. Well, she is certainly plainer than Alice, I must say, but that may be a good thing in the end. Too much beauty corrupts the character, dont you agree? she said to Uncle Junius who studied the ground.

Close up, I could see how the pink gums above her large teeth were exposed, while spittle formed in the corners of her mouth, to be sprayed when she spoke. I turned my head and wiggled to get free.

Aha! Not so fast, Aunt Cecelia said before setting me down. Let us make our manners first. I am happy to meet you, Molly.

I stood in the sun saying nothing.

Cat got your tongue? Aunt Cecelia advanced on me like an ironclad.

Now Molly, Uncle Junius said.

Nevermind, Junius. I see I shall have my work cut out for me, thats all, Aunt Cecelia said. But I like a challenge. Now where is young Junius? who was dragged forward crying by Liddy in order to make his manners which he would not do either.
My my,
Aunt Cecelia said.
What a pile of savages you are raising here Junius
.

Then Selena who could stand it no longer came forward to curtsy like a lady of the court. Well I for one am happy to welcome you here to Agate Hill, she said. Let me introduce my daughters Victoria and Blanche who bobbed forward to curtsy too.

Uncle Junius hid a smile.

But Aunt Cecelia arched her eyebrows. And who might you be? she asked, taking a long look.

Selena Vogell, Selena said.

Selena is the housekeeper, Uncle Junius said.

Aunt Cecelia stood looking from one of them to the other.
I see
, she said finally. She pressed her lips together, then shook her head slightly as if to clear it. Well, let me get inside before I have a heat stroke! I have a very delicate constitution, you know . . . She set off for the open door where Old Bess now stood.

Mary White! she called suddenly, turning back to the wagons. Mary White, come along now, this is ridiculous, you are trying my patience to a fare thee well—

And suddenly a little girl popped up like a puppet behind the drivers box! She was giggling and waving her hat with an arm that was thin as a stick. Surprise! She called. Virgil lifted her out of the wagon and set her down next to me.

Oh dear. Peas in a pod.
Aunt Cecelia stood grimly looking at us.
Molly meet Mary White. Mary White this is Molly
.

But Cecelia, who is this? Uncle Junius asked.

Aunt Cecelia gave her pig snort. Why it is my granddaughter Junius, daughter of my daughter Susannah, of whom the less said the better!

Uncle Junius took Aunt Cecelias arm and drew her into the house. Selena rushed ahead while everyone else scurried about except for Mary White and me. We stood in the hot sun and looked at each other. All dressed up for the journey, Mary White wore a green plaid taffeta dress with a white lace collar and a green sash that tied in a lopsided bow straggling down. Lace pantalettes peeped out from under the hem of her skirt. She wore white stockings and black shoes like a princess in a fairy tale book.

I have never seen a little girl got up so. And she is pale as a princess too, not tan from the sun like me. In fact Mary White is so pale that I can see through her skin to the blue veins at her temples and her neck. I can watch them throbbing. She is very thin also, I can see her bones. It is like she is inside
out — an inside-out girl! Her hair is frizzy as can be, escaping its center part and pigtails to stand out around her head like the light around angels heads in paintings.

Mary White! Aunt Cecelia called from the door. Come in this house this minute!

Why? I said.

I’m sick, Mary White said to me. I have to go lie down, I reckon.

Sick? I said. She looked fine to me.

They say I am living on borrowed time. I could go any minute. She snapped her fingers. Just like that.

An awful thrill shot through me.

But I dont care, Mary White said. I dont give a damn. I’m tired of it.
Looky here,
and while I watched, she rolled her eyes all the way back in her head until the blue was gone and naught but the white part remained.

I know we will be best friends.

July 22, 1872

So the reason I have not written for so long Dear Diary is that now I am a real girl with a real friend who sits in the little white chair up here in my cubbyhole and does every thing with me unless she is sick, such as today she can scarcely breathe so must lie in the dark in Aunt Cecelias room with shades pulled and shutters drawn and the hissing spirit lamp in the corner. The camphor smell is so strong it fills up my head and flies into my bones whenever I sneak in there which I am not supposed to do. I am supposed to let Mary White rest. Aunt Cecelia bumbles around like a big bee driving Mary White just crazy.

Meanwhile I have been picking up interesting bones for Mary White’s bone collection, now I am making one too. See? Here is a possum skull, here is a big cow leg bone, here is a turkey foot ripped off the barn wall where somebody had nailed it, I know this one is cheating.

Aunt Cecelia says Mary White will be up and about by the end of the week. I hope this is true for we have so many things to do and take care of. She has been here for over a month now, I can not believe it. The time flies along so fast. Now it is July with its hot thick yellow days.
Dog days,
Old Bess says, if you get a cut or a sore place now it will never heal. But we dont care, we slip off to the river where we have a Willow House right out in the running water just downstream from where Washington took us fishing that time with Spence.

It is cool and green in the Willow House. Long lacy branches fall down all around us making a screen for perfect privacy, so none can see where we sit on our three white rocks to read or eat a fancy lunch on magnolia leaf plates. Liddy lets us take whatever we want from the kitchen without a word. Time you have you some fun, girl, Liddy said to me. While we are in the Willow House, time stops still it seems, and all we can hear is the music of the river in our ears. But we are not alone for a whole big family of lizards live here too, the little ones so fast it breaks your heart to see them move like bright green streaks across the rocks. An old old granddaddy snake suns himself back on the bank then slides into the water so slow its like he is not even moving but then he is gone.

And the most exciting part — though we have not seen them yet — Mary White and I have reason to believe that a band of fairies comes here also, Mary White knows all about fairies and now I do too. They wear little green jackets and red caps with an owl feather sticking up at a jaunty angle. They come to ride the frogs and hunt the skittery waterbugs that play back there in the shallows. They live on fried waterbugs and flower pudding, Mary White says. One day we surprised these fairies and almost saw them — but they flew away fast on their gossamer wings leaving only a rainbow shimmer in the air and an owl feather floating in the little pool by the littlest rock where it went round and round in a magic way for as long as we watched, until Mary White plucked it up from the water to put in our collection of phenomena. Mary White says the fairies are coming back soon, she can feel it. She says we must go to the river in the light of the moon if we really mean to see them. So we are planning to do this on the next full moon, I can not wait.

Another thing we play is dolls, though my china doll Margaret is very old, having belonged first to Julia and Rachel when they were girls. Her painted hair was all gone on one side but now Mary White and I have made her some more with bootblack, so she looks fine, and her blue silk ballgown is especially elegant. Underneath she wears a chemise, a petticoat, and pantalettes, feather-stitched and herringboned, made by Julia. Mary White can not get over Margarets pantalettes!

And in truth I like Margaret old as she is far better than Mary Whites wax doll Fleur which is much larger, able to open and shut her eyes and say Mama and Papa quite plainly. But Fleur is too much of a baby doll for me. I like a doll who is old enough for romances and flirtations.

And guess what?

Margaret has had many romances and several marriages already because now Mary White and me have got a man doll too. I have never seen one before. He is not a store doll nor a rag doll either one but a knitted doll made by Aunt Cecelia who knits all the time, saying,
Idle hands are the devils workshop.
This man doll is the latest thing in knitting, with gray wool pants and jacket, stripes on his sleeve, and a soldiers cap on his head. As for a face, he doesnt have one. It is pure white knit, so I can imagine him any way I want. I can make him up. So sometimes he is gay and smiling while other times he is angry or scornful or curls his lip in a frown.