Getting Rid of Mabel

by Keziah Frost

  -89-

  An excerpt from Queen’s notebook:

  Today we went to Cort and I was scared cause when my mama went to Cort they put her in the Place but Hope said this is Adoption Cort wich is totally different and we had to go there so Hope could adopt me.

  In the waiting room there was so many kids and babies with the grownups who were trying to adopt them and there were toy cars, a play Kichen and some dirty old baby dolls kids could play with. Two kids had hearing aids but they were haveing fun anyway playing and I thought it would be hard to be them but then I watched them and I could tell they like there lifes.

  Some of the adults had breif cases those were the Lawyers. The ones who wanted to adopt kids were nervous you could tell some of them were Smiling real hard not only cause they were nervous but they were so happy too.

  Our Lawyer came then and Hope had to sign papers. Hope’s been talking to this lawyer a lot. Hope said it was a hole mess of paperwork she had to do but she dosen’t mind. Then while we were waiting some more, I had a supprise cause our freinds came in: Mrs. Moon, Miss Moon, Mrs. Birch, Mrs. Andretta, Mrs. Walsh, Mr. Zelenka, and that Mr. Butler came too. They were all wearing the same t-shirt as Hope: white, and printed on it said “I’m with Queen.” Hope said it was to show how they were all Together to support the fambly Hope and I are making.

  We went into the Cort and the Judge lady was waring a wig she was about one hunerd years old there was a young black lady next to her helping her cause she kept getting mixed up and I had to laugh I couldnt help it.

  All our freinds had to raize thier right hand and sware to help Hope. I thought I really dont think she’s gonna need THAT much help, I basicly take care of myself But it was still Nice.

  So now I am Hope’s adopted Daughter hooray!

  -90-

  Mabel hooked her arm through Walter’s and gazed into the blazing bonfire in Carlotta’s back yard.

  She declared, “The weathergirl said we’d have unreasonably warm weather this evening, and she was right!”

  Margaret said tactfully, “Or she might have said, ‘unseasonably warm.’”

  Mabel chuckled, “She might have, Marg. Only I don’t think ‘unseasonably’ is a real word.”

  Walter was now back to his jocular and extroverted self, complimenting all the women and laughing heartily at everything Mabel said.

  Norbert and young Liam had gathered the sticks and started the fire. Norbert had instructed Liam in the Eagle Scout way to do it, and Liam took the instruction well. He was turning out to be a very good employee at Hope’s café, very responsible for his years.

  The reason for the gathering was the momentous occasion of Queen’s adoption. To celebrate, Carlotta had invited Norbert, Margaret, Birdie, Lorraine, Mabel, Walter, Liam, Arnie, Hope, Summer, and, of course, Queen. They had enjoyed a potluck dinner, and had come out to gaze at the blazing sticks and the bright stars above. They all stood in a wide circle around the fire now, the flames reflected in their eyes. Carlotta had the odd thought that they resembled a tribe of yore.

  The fire crackled in the autumn breeze, and Carlotta looked around the circle at her old friends. Life was good.

  Queen hopped over to Birdie and said, “Mrs. Walsh! The visualization you taught me—just so you know—it worked!”

  Birdie and Queen stepped out of the ring to chat, Queen very animatedly. Carlotta could hear Queen say, “Now, do you think it will work for something else?” and their conversation went on. It was lovely to see Queen developing relationships with Carlotta’s dearest ones. Queen would always be able to consider them her extended family, and this caused a gentle fluttering of emotion in Carlotta, who was becoming accustomed to such flutters.

  Hope and Arnie were side by side, and he was hanging on her every word as if she were his ideal woman. If only Hope would give him a little encouragement.

  Lorraine interrupted the picture of budding love, and asked Hope, “So whaddaya need? What kinda support can we give you, hon?”

  Hope said, “I definitely want Queen to see her mother once a month. I’ll take her as often as I can, but as you know, it’s hard for me to get away from work. If any of you would like to take turns to drive Queen out there, that would be the greatest thing you could do for us.”

  Carlotta volunteered herself and Summer for the next trip to Shelton.

  Summer said, “Wait. How long did you say it takes to get there? What time did you say you have to get up?”

  Carlotta chided her. “If I can get up in the dark on a Saturday morning, if I can drive two hours—at the age of eighty-one—I am sure it will be no problem for you, a girl of twenty-six.”

  Summer laughed, “I never thought I’d look lame next to my grandmother.”

  Carlotta smiled firmly. “Well, my dear, you do look lame. Very lame. I suggest you get with it.”

  The gathering tittered nervously and looked around for someone to change the subject.

  Mabel came to the rescue.

  “I remember the days when we used to make s’mores over the fire. Anyone else ever do that?”

  Carlotta, for the first time ever, supported Mabel’s contribution. It was the only normal thing she’d ever heard Mabel say.

  “That is an excellent idea. I’ll just go in and get some marshmallows and chocolate.”

  Summer said, “The vegan marshmallows, Gramma. The ones I got you. And the vegan chocolate—the dark one. And vegan graham crackers. I’ll help you.”

  As the party toasted marshmallows on sticks, they began to ask about Carlotta’s book. It was very gratifying.

  “I’ve been doing quite a bit of editing and revision as I go along. Some say, write the whole book first, and then go back to revise. But I get such pleasure out of reading my own prose that I find myself reading it— and improving it— as I go along. I really feel I’ve got something to work with now. It’s exciting for me to write for hours every day.”

  Now they were all keen to know: when would it be finished? When could they read it? They pulled the gooey mess off the ends of their sticks and asked her a delightful barrage of questions. They really cared about what she was doing. They really loved her. They were still hers.

  At last, wiping their fingers on moist paper towels, they all trailed in through the house and out the front door to sit on the wide porch and enjoy a glass of wine or hot cider.

  It was sweater weather, and the group unanimously desired to stay outside in the fresh air for as long as they could. Carlotta noticed that Arnie finagled his way to sit next to Hope, and looking at the two of them, anyone would have thought they were a couple. They looked right together. Arnie asked Hope questions and seemed to admire everything she said. Meanwhile, Mabel was resting her hand on Walter’s thigh, and he was bending his head to let her whisper in his ear. So unseemly in an older couple, Carlotta thought.

  Lorraine and Summer talked about teaching, both amazed at how abandoned methods cycle back around in new packaging as the latest word in education. Norbert and Birdie were in a tête-à-tête, and Carlotta couldn’t help but wonder how close those two had been growing without her even noticing. Now Liam and Walter talked passionately about the Buffalo Sabres, and who should be traded and who wasn’t working hard enough. Margaret was raving about reviews for a movie that was showing at the Fine Arts Film Society, and asking if Carlotta wanted to see it with her. Funny, how Margaret was inviting her to a movie now that Mabel was busy with a boyfriend. Speaking of Mabel, where was she? Ah, she had only stepped into the house to use the powder room, and now she was back, twirling her baseball cap in her hands. Carlotta made a mental note to check the silverware later.

  Not seriously, of course. It was just a thought she would have shared wryly with Lorraine, back in the days when she and Lorraine were wry.

  Everyone was enjoying the fine art of conversation. It was a successful party, celebrating such an important event.

  If Queen slipped out to the back yard while the adults were talking, if the
dying bonfire suddenly burst into flames again, no one saw.

  An excerpt from Queen’s notebook:

  I did it. I wouldnt want Some one to burn up my Book. But it was still the right thing to do. Mrs. Moon has freinds that are like fambly to her she is crazy enough to mess that up

  -91-

  Among her many virtues, Carlotta could list orderliness and attention to detail. She was a woman of systems and routines. Her neat stack of blue paper was always housed in the drawer of her secretary desk. She never stored it anywhere else. And yet, it was gone.

  Someone had taken it.

  But who? And when? And why?

  She cast her mind back to the night before, and at once, the obvious villain emerged in her mind.

  Mabel.

  It must have been when they were all out on the front porch. Hadn’t Mabel gone in to use the restroom? She was sure she had. That horrible woman had used that moment to pilfer through Carlotta’s desk and steal her manuscript. She must have sneaked it into her blue Yankees tote bag. She stole it. She must have

  “Why do you hate me? You want to get rid of me!” wailed Mabel.

  The bartender’s head bobbed up, and he looked attentive and displeased. It was a quiet hour at the Alibi, and he seemed surprised to see the old people acting up. They usually had their one drink each and left, no drama.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” hissed Carlotta loudly. “You’re making a scene.”

  “I’m making a scene?” cried Mabel. “Now that’s the cat calling the kettle black!”

  Mabel, Margaret, Lorraine, Birdie, and Norbert were having their usual refreshment after a session of taping In the Kitchen with Margaret. Carlotta had come there to ambush Mabel, right in front of everyone. It was no more than she deserved.

  “I’m not saying you stole it, Mabel. Maybe you accidentally mixed it up with your things. Just a mistake, I’m sure!”

  Margaret interfered, “Carlotta! What proof do you have, to assume Mabel has your manuscript?”

  Mabel downed the rest of her beer and looked with defiance at Carlotta.

  “Yeah. The proof’s in the pumpkin, Carlotta old girl.”

  Norbert and Birdie suggested uselessly that Carlotta might have misplaced it herself.

  “I have never misplaced anything in my entire life,” asserted Carlotta improbably. “There’s no harm in simply checking Mabel’s tote bag, is there?”

  Mabel opened her eyes wide in shock.

  “You want to search me?” She raised her voice again, and again, the bartender lifted his bald head. He put down the glass he was drying and walked with intention to the corner that was producing all the commotion. Putting his hands on their table, he bent down and said firmly but discreetly, “This needs to STOP.”

  Mabel, fury flashing in her eyes, shouted, “NO! This needs to HAPPEN!”

  Norbert shaded his eyes, looking down at the table, while Birdie and Margaret reached for Mabel’s sleeve. Lorraine folded her arms, ready to watch the show.

  Mabel directed the full force of her hurt feelings toward Carlotta.

  “I tried to be your friend, Carlotta. I tried and I tried. I even went with you to your crystals class at the Center for Deeper Understanding….”

  “You guys went to the Center for Deeper Understanding without us?” interposed Lorraine.

  Mabel was rushing on. “I even offered to give you a free makeover, like girlfriends do. You wouldn’t be my friend, no matter how I tried. And now you come in here and call me a thief, right in front of my Club. You’re a bully, Carlotta Moon. That’s what you are. A bully!”

  Carlotta’s Club was banned from the Alibi Bar until further notice.

  -92-

  Queen observed Mrs. Moon searching her desk. It was sad, how she kept opening the same drawer again and again. Then she’d get up and wander around, poking in here, looking in there. She wasn’t going to find what she was looking for. No one would ever find that stack of blue papers again.

  Mrs. Moon sank into an armchair with a confused look on her face.

  Queen pretended to be reading her book. That Mary Lennox in The Secret Garden sure was having herself a happy ending. She went from no one liking her, to now, having two good friends and a nice parent and a big old house and a beautiful garden. Queen sure did love good books like this: a bad-attitude girl gets a happy life. She liked that Mary Lennox, and how she was so tough with her friends. Like that boy Colin, he thought he was sick and dying and couldn’t walk, and Mary figured out it was all in his head and she put him on blast. Pretty soon, he was out having fun in his wheelchair in the garden, and then he didn’t even need the wheelchair. All because she didn’t let him ruin his life. That’s what friends did. Just like Queen did for Mrs. Moon.

  Only now, Queen wasn’t so sure.

  She began to have that awful, sinking-in-the-stomach feeling that she had done something wrong again. It was just the way she felt when she hung up from talking to that liar Madame Fifi. Maybe she had made another terrible mistake.

  Mrs. Moon took it pretty well.

  “It’s all right dear.”

  “It is?”

  “Certainly. I’m glad you were honest with me, and told me you took it.”

  Queen felt proud that Mrs. Moon saw how honest she was.

  But then Mrs. Moon said something awful.

  “Just give it back now.”

  That sinking feeling came back to the pit of Queen’s stomach.

  “Can’t.”

  “What do you mean, ‘can’t?’”

  “It’s all burnt up.”

  Mrs. Moon’s mouth opened and she stared straight at Queen. Then she snapped her mouth shut. For a moment, she didn’t say anything.

  Before Carlotta’s eyes swam the 270 pages of blue paper that recounted fifty years of her life events. That stack of paper covered in elegant cursive writing held the early, tentative sketches, the affectionate reminiscences, the sudden detour into Mabel’s hijacking of the Club, her recollection of all the kindness she had shown her friends over the years, and all the ingratitude they had shown her in return, and then, the best and latest of her work, which she had just begun in the past few days: the releasing of resentment and the recognition of her respect and admiration for each of her friends and her appreciation for the lives they had shared—and still shared—together. With cross-outs and a tear stain or two, it was all there. And now, all gone.

  Up in smoke.

  Certainly, she had transposed some of it to her laptop… but only the first four pages of it.

  Carlotta looked at Queen, who was biting her thumbnail and looking as horrified as Carlotta felt.

  “Why?” asked Carlotta. “It’s taken me fifty years to finally start writing my book, the book I’ve always wanted to write. You destroyed it in a moment… Queen. Whatever possessed you to do such a thing?”

  Queen hung her head.

  “Queen. Did you read it?”

  Queen began to cry, softly, and nodded her head, not daring to look at Carlotta.

  “I read the part where you said Birdie Walsh was ‘lost in space,’ and Margaret Birch was not the brightest crayon in the box, and Lorraine Andretta had bad grammar. I don’t want your friends to hate you…. They’re your fa-fa-family.”

  In a flash, Carlotta understood what had happened.

  “You thought my friends would be angry, and they would all leave me. That’s what you thought, isn’t it?”

  Queen sniffled, swallowed.

  Carlotta, stupefied, gazed at the little girl, who was wiping her eyes and nose with her sleeve.

  “Get a tissue, dear, please. Oh, my.”

  “I know now I shouldn’t have done it,” said Queen, obediently applying the tissue. “Even if I did see you were making the biggest mistake of your life maybe. It wasn’t my decision to make.”

  “It certainly was not,” affirmed Carlotta. “What you read, Queen, was a rough draft. I would never have published negative things about my friends.” Carl
otta conveniently allowed herself to forget that, until very recently, that is exactly what she had been planning to do.

  Carlotta was silent again, seeing in her mind the bonfire, and the immolation of her memories.

  And then she remembered her little file of index cards and colored tabs. No, her memories did not perish in the conflagration.

  This debacle created by Queen was actually her opportunity for a fresh start on her book. Now that she had gotten the unpleasantness out of her system, she was free to begin anew, and write the book she had always wanted to write.

  She would begin again, tomorrow morning, at six.

  -93-

  “Are ya happy now?”

  Lorraine opened her door and greeted Carlotta with one of her favorite remarks of disapproval.

  Ignoring her, Carlotta said, “I made extra zucchini-pasta casserole so I could bring you some today. Put it in your freezer. Freezing allows the flavors a chance to blend.”

  Lorraine took the casserole without a thank you and headed back to her kitchen, and Carlotta followed. Lorraine put the dish in her freezer and turned to face Carlotta. She put a hand on her hip.

  “Well?”

  “Well what?” responded Carlotta.

  “Well, are ya happy now?”

  “I suppose you’re referring to the Alibi.”

  “I’m referring to you, Carlotta. So, you accuse Mabel of stealing from you, only to find out that it was Queen who took your papers. Cripes, Carlotta! Whatsa matter with you? We all feel so bad for Mabel, being called out like that in public for something she didn’t even do. Something you would know she would never do, if you knew her at all. Did it ever occur to you to have some proof before you go accusing people? You owe Mabel an apology.”

  Carlotta chafed at this scolding, and even more at the suggestion that she apologize. Regardless of what she might tell Queen, she did not readily apologize. Not to people like Mabel, anyway.

  Lorraine was not finished.

  “I have never in my life been banned from a bar—or anyplace else. And now, because of you, we can’t go into that seedy joint anymore.”