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Vigil

Page 9

by Cecilia Samartin


  Suddenly aware that they weren’t alone, Teddy turned to look at me. He stared for a long while with his enormous chocolate brown eyes. Then all at once, his face fell into a frown. Before his father could say or do anything to stop him, the child sprung toward his father’s desk, grabbed a small paperweight, and threw it at me with all his strength, but it was too heavy for his small arm and landed several feet short of its target.

  “Teddy!” Mr. Trellis said, taking firm hold of his son’s shoulders. “Ana has come to take care of you, and you must treat her with respect.”

  With mischief lurking in his dark eyes, Teddy shook his head violently and shut his eyes tight. “No like Nana.”

  “Teddy,” his father bellowed. “You must apologize to Ana this instant.”

  But Teddy wasn’t motivated by his father’s command. Instead, he somehow managed to wriggle away from his grasp and run toward the door with the same exuberance he’d entered with moments earlier. Then he stopped suddenly and took several steps in my direction, his eyes challenging me. Yet something told me that he was more interested in the world around him than he was in his ability to make it bend and twist according to his will. When he was close enough to reach out and touch me, he said, “Nana is a poo poo and a pee pee!” And he started to laugh.

  Mr. Trellis stood, looking even taller than before. “Teddy! You will not disrespect Ana in this fashion. If you don’t apologize you’ll get a spanking and go to your room.” He took a threatening step toward his son, blocking his access to the door, and Teddy began to wail at the top of his lungs.

  “No, Daddy! No!” he cried, as he scurried about the room like a mad squirrel while his father tried to catch him, but his stature put him at a disadvantage. Every time he came close enough to grab the boy, Teddy managed to dart out of reach, scrambling away from him time and time again. Mr. Trellis’s face began to glow an ominous shade of red, while Teddy screeched and had the time of his life. Once or twice Teddy came close enough to me that I could’ve grabbed him myself and ended the chase, but I thought better of it, and instead tucked my feet in under my chair so that neither father nor son would trip.

  Thankfully, the door opened and the woman I’d seen earlier in the pool entered the room.

  “Mommy! Mommy!” Teddy cried, running toward her. “Daddy hurt Teddy! Daddy kill Teddy!”

  Mrs. Trellis wrapped her arms around her son while scowling at her husband. “Adam,” she said, “what’s going on? He’s literally trembling.”

  “Nonsense,” Mr. Trellis replied. “That child isn’t even afraid of God, and he owes Ana an apology.”

  Mrs. Trellis turned her beautifully sculpted head in my direction and smiled wanly. Her hair was still damp and her fair skin glowed like porcelain illuminated by candlelight. Her features retained the refined perfection of a child’s, yet there was no doubt about her adult allure.

  “What did Teddy do?” she asked. I was preparing to answer when I realized that her question had been directed not to me, but to her son. Teddy covered his face with his hands and buried his head in his mother’s protruding belly. Mrs. Trellis noticed the paperweight on the floor. “Did Teddy throw something at the new nanny?” Teddy nodded fervently and pressed his hands more tightly over his eyes. “Daddy and Mommy have told Teddy many times that he is never to throw things at our visitors. Now Mommy and Daddy are very, very sad,” she said, a pout curling her lips, but Teddy didn’t respond. “Is Teddy sorry?” she asked sweetly, and he nodded against her belly again.

  “There, you see?” she said, turning to her husband. “He’s ashamed of himself and he’s sorry.”

  Deflated and weary, Mr. Trellis made his way around his desk and sat down. “Let’s leave it for now, Lillian,” he said, nodding in my direction. “Ana’s been waiting.”

  Mrs. Trellis’s blue-gray eyes scanned me from head to toe. They were the ethereal eyes of the Madonna herself, and I felt myself squirm under their inspection.

  “You seem far too young. Are you even eighteen yet?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes,” I replied, wanting very much to please her. “I’ll be twenty-two in a few months.”

  She cocked her head to one side and studied me further. “Are you certain you can look after Teddy? As you’ve already seen, he can be quite energetic.”

  “I have no doubt that I can, Mrs. Trellis. I’ve worked in the infant and toddler center for quite some time now. And according to the mothers, I was the best teacher they had.” I was surprised at how readily I was prepared to boast all of a sudden.

  “Forgive me for being so direct, Ana. I know my husband will be annoyed with me for asking you this.” Before continuing she glanced at him again and smiled ever so sweetly. It was impossible to imagine that he or anyone could ever be annoyed by such an angelic creature. She turned back, her expression serious. “Are you willing to protect my son with your life?”

  Even Teddy, who’d kept his face well hidden, lifted his head to see and hear how I would answer.

  “Lillian, please,” Mr. Trellis said, frowning. “Is this really necessary?”

  “Darling!” Mrs. Trellis gasped. “If anything were to happen to my Teddy, I couldn’t go on living, or give birth to the child in my womb.”

  At this Teddy threw his arms around his mother and held her in an impassioned embrace while she stroked the fine dark hair from his forehead.

  “I understand,” I said, looking between Mr. Trellis’s deadpan expression and his wife, who was the picture of maternal sorrow and sacrifice. “You want to know what I would do in case of an emergency.”

  “Yes, exactly,” Lillian replied, flashing her husband a triumphant look.

  I sat up straighter and said, “When Teddy is in my care, I promise you that I’ll do everything a mother would do to make certain no harm ever comes to him, even if it means risking my own life.” That said, I glanced at Mr. Trellis, whose aloof expression was unchanged. Then, as though disgusted by the scene before him, he turned back to his books.

  With one hand on the small of her back and the other clutching her son’s hand, Lillian Trellis graced me with a regal nod and said, “Very well then, Ana. It is my great pleasure to welcome you to our home.”

  I spent my first few days at the Trellis house following Teddy around, and as he scuttled about like a delirious little rodent with free reign of the pantry, I tried to engage him in some kind of focused play. It was the most exhausting job I’d ever had, and I was amazed that looking after one child could take more out of me than looking after a classroom of twenty or more. Teddy was curious and active to be sure, but the exhausting difference had more to do with the size of Teddy’s playground. It was several acres and included three separate buildings—the main house, the guest house, and the garage, several fountains, and a multitude of rooms filled with an infinite number of places to hide. As it turned out, hide-and-seek was Teddy’s favorite game, and I was constantly finding his toys in his favorite hiding places, under chairs, behind cabinets, and in hall closets. I’d also find them stuffed under chair cushions, and even dangling from the chandeliers. He particularly enjoyed tossing his lighter toys up to where he couldn’t reach, like satellites that could widen his circle of exploration.

  The only clear direction I’d received from Mrs. Trellis was to keep Teddy away from the pool, especially during those times that she kept the fence unlocked during her morning swims. Teddy was intrigued by the magnificent pool and often insisted that we linger nearby so he could gaze at it. “Teddy swim in pool,” he’d say, pointing through the fence.

  And I’d reply, “Your mama says you’ll get swimming lessons very soon, and then you’ll go in the pool.”

  He’d stamp his foot and say, “No! Teddy swim now, Teddy swim now!” It took some effort to pry his chubby fingers from the fence and distract him with something else.

  Mealtime was especially chaotic. Usually, Teddy and I ate alone in the kitchen. He despised his high chair and much preferred the kitchen chairs that spun
round and round on their base. I tried feeding him as he spun round, deciding that it was better than chasing him all around the house with a plate of food as Millie had been doing. Should Millie walk in on us, she’d shake her head in dismay. I thought we were making some progress, but Millie wasn’t impressed.

  Within a few days, I’d persuaded Teddy back into his high chair by telling him a story about a little lizard that grew into a giant dinosaur by eating in his high chair. This time Millie was impressed and she agreed to watch him for a few minutes while I tidied the nursery. On my way back to the kitchen I discovered a bizarre-looking stuffed animal resembling a skinny red monkey hanging from the pool fence. Next to hide-and-seek, Teddy’s favorite thing to do was to toss his toys up over the fence and into the pool, the only spot within his immense playground where he was denied access. I unhooked it from the fence and went directly to the kitchen with the creature tucked under my arm. Millie was slouched in the chair opposite Teddy with bits of macaroni and cheese dangling from her hair and an impotent spoon in her hand. When Teddy saw me his face exploded with a smile and he reached out to me, his little fingers desperately clawing the air. “Elmo! Nana find Elmo!” he cried. I brought Elmo to him and he hugged it impossibly tight and kissed the tip of his nose many times over. Then he shoved him into my face and said, “Kiss Elmo. Elmo love kisses.” I glanced at Millie, who looked at her wits’ end. I could only imagine how many times she’d been forced to kiss Elmo since Flor left.

  “Thanks for your help, Millie. I’ll take it from here,” I said and I gave Elmo a big kiss on his nose, as Teddy had. “Hello, Elmo,” I said. “I’m so glad I found you. Now let’s sit together and watch Teddy eat his lunch.”

  Teddy then grabbed Elmo and flung him across the room. He shrieked with delight when he hit the wall. “Elmo, fly,” Teddy said. Then he grabbed his lunch and threw it with equal enthusiasm toward the wall, but his bowl didn’t fly nearly as well as Elmo had, and it landed near Millie’s feet, splattering her shoes and the floor surrounding her with macaroni and cheese.

  “I think it’s time for my nap,” Millie said, shaking her head, and she left me with Teddy.

  By my second week at the Trellis house I decided that the time had come to begin taming Teddy. It seemed to me that he had had too much stimulus, too many choices, and too little direction. I started by diminishing the size of his play area, but made it more interesting. Teddy was like a little spark jumping about, ricocheting off the walls, the furniture, the trees, and trying to ignite but never finding the intensity or heat to create a lasting flame. Only when he was sleepy did he slow down a bit, and only at these times did I sense the connection growing between us. At the beginning I’d lie down next to him wherever he decided to lay his head, which could be anywhere in the house or the garden. I felt ridiculous lying on the floor in the dining room or one of many formal sitting rooms, but at the Trellis house no one paid much attention. Should Millie encounter us on her way to the kitchen, she’d step over us or walk by without saying a word.

  When he napped, it calmed Teddy to clutch two of my fingers and gaze into my eyes while sucking his thumb. He’d nod or shake his head in response to my questions, and remove his thumb to speak only when he felt particularly passionate about something.

  “Is Teddy sleepy?”

  He’d nod.

  “Shall we go upstairs to your cozy bed?”

  He’d shake his head furiously.

  “If you’re a good boy and sleep in your bed, then after your nap we can look for bugs in the garden.”

  He’d close his eyes while thinking about it, but I could tell by the grip on my fingers that he wasn’t yet asleep.

  “And then I’ll read you your favorite story…”

  His thumb would fly out of his mouth. “Three stories. Teddy want three stories.”

  “Okay, Teddy will have three stories,” I replied, and he allowed me to carry him up to his room.

  Mr. and Mrs. Trellis’s daily routines eluded me. The only pattern I perceived was that Mr. Trellis departed for work by eight every morning, and Lillian Trellis took her morning swim almost immediately thereafter. She’d appear at the side of the peacock pool in her robe and slippers and enjoy several long and languorous laps, gliding effortlessly over the surface of the water from one end of the pool to the other. When she was finished, she emerged from the water like a siren, shook out her long auburn hair, and entered the house rewrapped in her robe. How she spent the remainder of her day was a mystery to me. Often I wouldn’t catch sight of her again until two or three in the afternoon.

  Mr. Trellis was usually away, and when he was home he spent most of his time in the study, sometimes until very late at night. I knew this because the corridor window just outside my bedroom door faced the courtyard, as did the window of his study. Just as his father warned, Teddy suffered from frequent nightmares and when I went to console him, I often saw a faint light glowing there. I remembered that Millie had said he was brilliant. Didn’t brilliant people ever sleep?

  I was careful to stay out of Mr. Trellis’s way, but if I should happen to run into him, I could count on him not noticing me. Most of the time he brushed by me, preoccupied and muttering to himself.

  Nevertheless, I’d always remain respectful and cordial, as Mother Superior would’ve expected. “Hello, Mr. Trellis. How are you today?” or, “Isn’t it a beautiful day?” To which he’d usually reply with a grunt, as though I wasn’t worthy of a completely articulated word or two.

  If Teddy was with me, he’d let go of my hand and run as fast as his little legs could carry him and leap into his father’s great arms that were always ready to receive him. Nevertheless, Mr. Trellis appeared uncomfortable with this display of affection, especially if Teddy was in the mood to shower him with a flurry of kisses all over his face. Teddy was as willful and fierce with his love as he was with his defiance, and at times his father would end these exchanges abruptly. When Teddy returned to me in tears after his father reprimanded him for being too forceful or rude, I held him and comforted him as best I could, encouraging him to be more gentle, while assuring him that his father loved him very much.

  Mr. and Mrs. Trellis took their meals wherever the mood struck them. Sometimes I caught glimpses of them in the sunroom adjacent to the kitchen. At other times they ate in the dining room or even in their bedroom, which seemed very strange to me. Millie complained about having to provide “room service” at a moment’s notice and often enlisted my help with carrying the tray upstairs, but I was grateful that she was always the one who entered their room. I was afraid of what I’d see if I went in there. Would they be lounging together in various phases of undress? Might I be confronted with an intimate scene that would require me to immediately avert my eyes?

  One evening before dinner, while Teddy and I were crouched outside in the courtyard searching for roly-poly bugs in the dirt, I overheard them through the open window in the sunroom. “I can’t bear it anymore, Adam,” Mrs. Trellis said. “You leave this place every day, but I feel like a prisoner. I can’t stand being shut in like this, waiting, just waiting.”

  “In a few weeks you’ll have the baby and everything will be back to normal again. You’ll see.” His usually gruff voice was unrecognizably warm, almost tender.

  They didn’t speak for a moment or two, and then she said, “You know what would cheer me up? A party…. Oh please, Adam, it’s been so long since I’ve thrown a party.”

  “That’s a lot of work for you, Lillian. Why don’t we get away for a few days instead?”

  “But I love parties, and after the baby comes it’ll be months before I’ll feel up to it, and Ana’s so good with Teddy, he won’t be a problem to manage at all.”

  “Well…”

  “Oh please, Adam, it would do me so much good.”

  All at once, Teddy startled me by throwing his arms around my neck and pressing his cheek against mine with all his strength. “What’s wrong, Teddy?” I asked, chuckling.
r />   He released me and opened his little fist, revealing three little black bugs curled up into balls. He inspected my hands one at a time, only to discover that I hadn’t found any. Then he selected one bug from his collection and gave it to me. “Take care of it, Nana,” he whispered in my ear. “Roly-poly loves you very much.”

  Later that evening, after Teddy had gone to bed, Millie and I were having a cup of tea in the kitchen. “Flor could never get Teddy to sleep this easily,” Millie said, while nibbling on one of her homemade lemon cookies. “I’ve never seen him respond to anyone the way he does to you. Have you put some kind of spell on him?” she asked, grinning.

  “Teddy’s a good boy. He just needed a little bit of structure and guidance.”

  “Well, things are definitely calmer and more pleasant since you came.”

  “Thank you, Millie,” I replied, very pleased to hear her say so.

  She nudged the plate of lemon cookies toward me. “So,” she said, “I hear there’s going to be a party,”

  “Yes, I heard something about it too.”

  “Well I think you should know that things will be a little different around here for a while. And it really isn’t accurate to call it a party,” Millie continued with a disapproving smirk. “It’ll be more of a spectacle than a party, and Lillian will be the grandest spectacle of all.” Millie waited for me to react to her comment, but I had no idea what she was getting at, so I helped myself to another lemon cookie.

  “They met at a party in this very house. Did you know that?”

 

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