The Memento (14 page)

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Authors: Christy Ann Conlin

BOOK: The Memento
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“Don’t stare. It’s rude. Didn’t anyone teach you any manners living over here? I’ve got severe allergies. Just make sure you don’t bother me. I didn’t come over here to look after brats.”

The second she looked at us, those eyes glinting behind the mess of bangs, I saw her on her knees back at Bible School. Art did too and his cheeks went crimson. It was curious to me how my
feelings stayed put in my chest most of the time but they seeped right out of Art. It was impossible to know what Margaret was thinking with her hair in her face. She could look out but you couldn’t look in.

“Where is Loretta? Dr. Baker said I’m supposed to meet her and she’ll train me.” The mowers behind the walls of Evermore started up, and Margaret’s eyes followed the noise. “What a monstrosity if I ever saw one. You’d think they’d knock this place down. Oh my God. Look at them creepy things.” She pointed at the stone gargoyles hanging off the roof, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“The Colonel had them made for Marigold. She’s afraid of hobgobblies. She won’t sleep on the ground floor in case they come in. And she don’t want the windows open downstairs. Jenny’s just like her.”

Margaret snorted. “Is everyone here crazy? What’s a hobgobbly? Maybe that’s what you two are.”

Art laughed. “We don’t know. Some sort of bad spirit.”

“Well, I don’t care. You both would believe in anything, telling all your ghost stories and crap. I don’t believe in that any more than I do the devil. Just stories grown-ups tell to keep kids in line, that’s all. Who needs a house this big? They should make it a museum or a hotel. Or knock it down. Better yet, burn it down.”

“You keep saying that. Better not let Marigold hear. You sound like Estelle, her daughter-in-law.”

“Yeah, I hear she’s a bitch. My father said that. Well, he didn’t say she was a bitch but I knew that’s what he meant.” Margaret snorted. “What do you call Marigold and Estelle?”

“The Missus Parkers. That’s what they like. We only call them Estelle and Marigold when they’re not present.”

“I hear you had some trouble with your mother, Fancy. Word gets around. Better not grow up like her. But you won’t be able to help it, being a Mosher. Heard she came by pissed out of her mind at the school this week and they had to take her away.”

I stared at Margaret and she started brushing at her skirt like there was lint on it, though there wasn’t a speck.

“We should be getting you to meet Loretta,” Art said.

Loretta wasn’t in the kitchen so we took Margaret through the long passage into the main house. We showed her the imposing rooms on the main floor, went up the grand staircase and down the hall to the bedrooms, then to Marigold’s set of rooms. We didn’t take her to the third floor. Most of the rooms were locked up tight and you needed one of the big keys that hung down in the kitchen. Margaret didn’t talk at all throughout the tour, just looked at the paintings, at the great big pieces of furniture, the mouldings on the ceilings. Petal’s End could take the words out of almost anybody’s mouth.

Loretta had snacks ready for us in the kitchen when we came back. She was writing on the blackboard and she brushed her chalky hands on her apron before she shook Margaret’s hand. “We’re pleased to have you here, Margaret. It’s very quiet now, but I’m sure you’ll have plenty to do.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Margaret sat down.

“Dr. Baker said you are skilled with the elderly. You’ll need patience here. He thought you’d be the perfect helper for Marigold. And of course your experience at the Bible School.”

I saw Margaret’s head turn, ever so slight, but I ignored her, as did Art.

“Hector will drive you back down to the valley after your visit, if you like, seeing as you’re just here today for acquainting yourself with the place. I will call and let your father know.” Loretta poured her lemonade and Margaret perked up at the mention of Hector’s name.

“So it’s just him and you, and these two?” Margaret wrinkled her nose. It was hitting her how odd it was.

Loretta didn’t even seem to notice. “Well, don’t be fooled, these two are quite useful. But there’s the Briar Patch people and Happy Helpers, too.”

“Well, I don’t mean to be rude, Loretta, but I never heard of anything like this, a great big place and all the work to keep it going with no one even living here.”

Loretta dabbed her lips and forehead with a napkin. “My dear, this is the way it is. The Parkers have their ideas. They nearly did sell the place a few years back, after Charlie died. That’s when then they started to disagree, which I am sure you will hear plenty about once they arrive. Just don’t pay any attention to it. They’ll sort it out. We always wait out their clashes as we wait out bad weather.”

The kitchen door opened. “Hello, big house,” Hector called as he came in with the groceries. Margaret giggled and looked down. “Well, hi there, Maggie,” he said as he put the groceries on the far end of the big table. “And the pectin, just as you ordered, Miss Loretta.”

“Sit down and join us, Hector. Take off your hat, for goodness’ sake. The Parkers will be here soon and you’ll do well to remember to take your hat off. And Fancy, you’ll do well to wear shoes. This isn’t a barn.”

We all started laughing.

“I’m serious, children,” Loretta said. “I take it you know Margaret, Hector?”

“Well, just by reputation,” he said as he took off his hat, tipping it as he did. His tattoo looked darker inside the kitchen. Margaret looked positively delighted by Hector’s comment.

“I should tell all of you, now I have you gathered together, that Marigold will be coming out tomorrow.” This explained why Loretta was breathless. “Sometime after lunch, Dr. Baker said. I don’t know who is coming with her but we’ll need to have rooms ready in case. Fancy and I can take care of that. The piano was tuned earlier in June, so if Pomeline is coming that’s ready. Marigold was going to wait but when Dr. Baker said he’d hired you, Margaret, she didn’t see the point. Remember how important it is to respect their rules. And stay away from the Annex—that part of the house is not safe. The support beams are unstable and the floorboards are weak.
It’s full of black mould, and Dr. Baker says the air isn’t fit to breathe. Avoid all of the locked rooms, for that matter. When the Parkers are in the house we stay out of the way unless they need us. Fancy and Art, will you show Margaret around outside? Marigold will be expecting to take her promenades so Margaret will need to know her way about. You should draw her a map. We used to have them printed up. One of Marigold’s visiting artist friends did a map. It was worthy of framing. I haven’t seen one in years. At least we don’t have animals to tend to. Does anyone have any questions?”

Margaret grinned but not in her regular rude way. It was hard not to like Loretta, unless you were Ma. “I think you pretty much covered every single thing, past and present and future.”

“Marigold is speaking already of having a garden party. We’ll hope that is nothing more than a notion.”

“What kind of animals were there?” Margaret asked. “I like horses.”

“Well, my dear, there were sheep and cattle grazing and chickens running around. There were horses and carriages and such, but that would be going way back.”

It was nice to see Margaret actually interested in a topic and not ridiculing the place.

“Colonel Parker used to have all kinds of exotic creatures, too,” I said. “Now it’s just the swans on the pond, and some ducks. The swans have babies. Cygnets, they’re called. But don’t go anywhere near them. Swans are like attack dogs around their babies,” I added.

Hector chuckled. “You listen to Fancy, Margaret. And there still happen to be peacocks in the forest. My father said he had to shoot a few that came over and were eating up his garden. They eat down to the goddamn stem, excuse my language.”

“Hector, please. As far as peacocks go, I haven’t seen one around here in years. Maybe off in the woods. Marigold hated them. They were always eating her flowers and perching up in the branches.” Loretta sat down, picking up a small fan from a basket on the table.
They were lying all over the house in trays, another relic from the days of yore. I got her a glass of water and she looked grateful.

“Yes, the Colonel liked the strangest things for pets. Marigold preferred cats, but his falcons ate some of those. There were rabbits at one time, too. The Colonel gave a pair to Charlie for Easter when he was a baby but Marigold turned them out. She couldn’t stand them in the house. Then they just started breeding and breeding.”

Margaret giggled.

“That wasn’t the half of it.” Loretta was fanning herself full force now. “I can tell you a story about a garden party about seven years after the war ended. Mr. Charlie was about six years old. Fancy’s mother was still working here. There were rabbits hopping all over the property at that time, not just peacocks strutting about. It was a huge party and there was a whole area in the walled garden with activities for the children who came. Your brother, John Lee, was there, Fancy. Charlie was shy to such a degree it was painful speaking to him. He’d cringe when the Colonel would address him. But John Lee would talk to anyone, shake anyone’s hand. What a sturdy little mister he was. The colonel called him
my fine little man
.”

“Ma always said Charlie was timid because his parents was so bullheaded they flattened out his personality,” I said.

“That does sound like something Marilyn would say. She was working in the kitchen during the party. I was out in the garden with the children. There was a mime and a juggler and trays with tiny fairy cakes for the children. And croquet and a magician and a special marionette play performed in the gazebo. Of course, once the rabbits started hopping out of the thicket the children only wanted to chase them about with carrots from the snack table. Charlie had the biggest carrot and he was holding it out to this large white rabbit.

“And out of the sky came this huge falcon, swooping down with an ungodly screech. It grabbed the rabbit by the neck. It was dreadful. Charlie was still holding on to the rabbit. He lifted about a foot off the ground. John Lee was yelling, ‘Let go, Charlie, let go
of the bunny!’ Charlie was petrified. John Lee gave a jerk on his leg and Charlie came tumbling down to the lawn. What a thud his head made. We could hear the falcon’s huge wings beating as it rose in the sky, blood dripping down.”

“Marigold must have had a fit,” I said.

“We heard her screaming as she ran across the lawn, and she sounded just like the great bird, but who wouldn’t seeing their son dangling from talons like those? The Colonel dashed over with his huge leather arm cover. The falconer was running beside him. Well, that great raptor came screeching down to him with the rabbit in its beak. The Colonel held up his arm and the bird landed. I can still see those talons gripping the leather and the Colonel holding it high. ‘Have no fear,’ he said. ‘This is a trained bird. I assure you he is under control. Isn’t he splendid? He must have escaped from the mews. Control has been restored.’ He had such a queer way of talking. I can hear him still.”

Hector slapped his leg and tried to say something but he was laughing too hard to get any words out.

Loretta shushed him. “Hector, please. It might seem funny to you but it was frightening for everyone. Except the Colonel. He never really did think beyond his own pleasure. Anyway, Charlie threw up right there on John Lee’s lap. ‘Buck up. No one likes a sissy,’ the Colonel said to Charlie. Can you imagine? The Colonel had no patience with his son, poor thing. I took the both of them into the house. Charlie had a concussion from hitting his head.”

“I bet Marigold had it out with the Colonel. I bet he let that bird out on purpose. Jenny said he had that sort of sense of humour.”

“Yes, Fancy, he did find that sort of thing entertaining, oddly. Anyway, this was a long time ago.”

Margaret and Hector sat there as though they were waiting for another story, enraptured. But it was like someone had flipped Loretta’s work switch. She put the fan down and stood up. “How these stories keep flooding back. There’s nothing but songbirds now.
Hector, the gardeners were asking about the fountain, something to do with the plumbing? They left a note for you in the carriage house. And if you could take Margaret home later? Children, take Margaret about and give her the history of the place.”

Hector nodded, put his ball cap back on and left. By the time we got out he was gone, and we went around back to the south side of the house. It opened up onto a trellis garden and a big swath of lawn for croquet and badminton and lawn bowling. I looked over to the stone walls of Evermore, but unless you knew what was inside it didn’t look like much.

“What’s that, an animal pen? I thought Loretta just said there weren’t any animals around. I hope the Colonel isn’t still lurching around like some zombie.”

I frowned, ignoring Margaret.

Margaret persisted. “Loretta sure can talk. She’s got some crazy stories. She must get lonely in that big house with just you to keep her company, Fancy.”

“Fancy’s good company,” Art said in his high voice. “Loretta just likes to keep people informed. She doesn’t normally tell stories. It’s been a busy few days. She’s stressed out.”

“Well she seems nice enough. My father said she used to be a religious fanatic but she doesn’t seem that way to me. You must like living over here with her and not your drunk mother, Fancy. So who’s the other daughter, besides the one who plays piano?”

“Oh, that’s Jenny. She’s the same age as us. She almost died being born early. Jenny has health problems, troubles with her lungs and her eyes. She had a virus in her brain. Isn’t that right, Fancy? And she’s got her own religion.”

We were almost at the big door to the walled garden.

Margaret snickered. “A twelve-year-old preacher with her own church … that’s all I need. This place is crazy. Don’t you see that?”

We knew it was unusual, but it was familiar. And Margaret didn’t seem to be no authority on what was normal and healthy. “Jenny
lives for coming out here. We play with her. She’s a bit touched in the head but she’s always been that way. You just have to let her have her own way. We don’t mind. She doesn’t have much of a life.”

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