A Day of Signs and Wonders

by Kit Pearson

  Emily had been trying hard not to think about Mother. Now she remembered Mother’s ashen face when Emily had kissed her goodbye. “Y-Yes,” she gulped. “She often gets ill, but this time it’s very serious, and they sent Alice and me here. It’s so unfair! Dede said we would only be in the way, but we wouldn’t! And Dick didn’t have to come, and he’s much younger. Lizzie and Tallie are helping Dede take care of Mother, but I could help, also—I could read poetry to her. She likes it when I do that.”

  Emily looked up at the sky to cup her tears. She was not going to cry in front of a stranger!

  “It’s terrible when someone you love is sick,” whispered the girl.

  “What did you say?”

  “Oh, nothing . . . Are you enjoying your stay at the Cranes’?” The girl’s voice was strained, as if she were forcing herself to be polite.

  “No!” Emily grimaced. “Mr. Crane is a cruel man—Helen told me he shot her dog just because it was a mongrel! And Mrs. Crane is always angry with me—I keep doing things she disapproves of.”

  “What sorts of things?”

  “Well, the first afternoon I was there Helen and I found a lot of starfish under the boathouse. We dressed them up in dolls’ clothes and hid them in the nursery cupboard. Yesterday they started to smell and Mrs. Crane found them. She wasn’t even angry with Helen—she just scolded me! The worst was when I took a hen into the bedroom and dosed her with castor oil. It made a terrible mess . . . but the poor thing was ill!”

  The girl finally smiled. “You’re funny! Do you really care about chickens that much?”

  Emily stiffened. “I adore chickens! They’re much smarter than you think, Ka—What did you say your name was?”

  “Kathleen . . . but my family and friends call me Kitty.”

  “Well, Kitty, I don’t think you know a thing about chickens. You should spend more time with yours and you’d see what I mean.”

  “I will,” said Kitty solemnly. “Tell me more about your sisters. You seem to have a lot of them.”

  “Too many,” said Emily gloomily. “They all order me around, even Alice sometimes. She’s eleven and we share a room. Lizzie is thirteen like you, but she’s impossibly good. Tallie’s all right—she’s twenty-four and she has a beau. I don’t like him much. He has a waxed moustache that sticks out like horns. Dede is the worst. She’s only a year older than Tallie, but she acts like she’s the boss. Poor Mother is so frail that Dede runs us all. Except for Father, of course. No one bosses him!”

  “I envy you, having sisters,” said Kitty. She looked away, scratching her cheek.

  Emily shifted uncomfortably. “Do you have any brothers?” she asked finally.

  “Two,” said Kitty. “Frank is fifteen. He’s at boarding school in England—we miss him so much. Jack is eight.” She frowned. “He can be a trial.”

  “My brother, Dick, is only five,” said Emily. “He’s very delicate. Father says I should have been the boy! Mother can’t bear to have Dick out of her sight—that’s why he didn’t have to come to the Cranes’ with us.”

  “What does your father do?” asked Kitty.

  “He has a wholesale grocery business on Wharf Street.”

  “My father is the Indian Reserve Lands Commissioner for British Columbia,” said Kitty.

  Emily nodded as if she knew what that meant. How superior Kitty sounded! Emily lowered her head and started to pull at a loose thread on her hem.

  Then Kitty became as irritating as Dede or Lizzie. “Don’t pull—it will only make it worse. Your poor frock is already so badly ripped. How did you do it? And why are you out in bare feet and no hat?”

  “I escaped! I woke up early and I sneaked out of the house. I didn’t have time to put on my boots and stockings and I forgot my hat. And I ripped my frock trying to climb a tree in the forest. I rescued a baby bird from a crow!”

  Surely this would impress Kitty, but the older girl looked even more critical. “What a shame—that tear will be difficult to mend. Would you like me to do up your back buttons?”

  “No, thank you,” said Emily. “I like them just the way they are.” She stood up. “I’m leaving now.”

  “Don’t go yet,” said Kitty. “I didn’t mean to be bossy.”

  She appeared so apologetic that Emily sat down again. “Why are you out so early?” she asked.

  “I’m all alone today,” said Kitty. “Mama and Jack left very early to have breakfast with the Pembertons. Then they are hiring the picnic carriage to take them to Mill Stream. The Pembertons’ son, Joe, is a great friend of Jack’s. Their daughter, Sophie, is my friend, but I chose to stay home.”

  “Our family went to Mill Stream once—it’s wonderful there. Why didn’t you want to go?”

  “Oh . . . just because,” said Kitty.

  How aggravating she was! “Where is your father?” Emily asked.

  “Papa’s in Yale,” said Kitty. “He won’t be home until the fall. He’s often away.”

  “My father hardly ever travels,” said Emily. “You must miss yours.”

  “I do . . . very much.” Kitty sat up straighter and pushed a stray hair behind her ear. “Do you like the Crane girls?”

  Obviously Kitty didn’t want to talk much about herself. “Alice has become good friends with Mary,” Emily told her. “Helen is my age and she’s agreeable enough. Her mother says I’m a bad influence on her, but I can’t help it if she likes my ideas. Grace is rude. She told me I was greedy!”

  “Grace is always like that,” said Kitty. “I don’t care for her at all.”

  “She’s not as nasty as her mother,” said Emily. “Mrs. Crane pretends to be loving, but she’s not! She made me take castor oil when I didn’t need it, and she—”

  Then Emily clamped her mouth shut. Dede would be appalled—children were not supposed to criticize adults! She waited for Kitty’s disapproval.

  But Kitty smiled again. “You seem to have a lot of trouble with castor oil! The Cranes are our only neighbours besides the Turners, so we see them all the time. We have to be polite, of course, but Mama finds them uninteresting. I’m sorry you’re having such a miserable time there.”

  Kitty’s sympathy was as warming as the sunshine. “There are some good things,” Emily told her. “They have a lovely dog named Barley. And they have a pinto pony! He’s called Cricket. We ride him every afternoon.”

  Swallows dipped and soared around them. Emily noticed how high the sun was and jumped up. “I should go back now, before they notice I’m gone!”

  “I’ll walk with you,” said Kitty.

  Now Emily’s shadow was behind her on the road. “Look, we’re being followed!” she whispered to Kitty. “Run!”

  Kitty hesitated then copied Emily, scampering along the road and glancing over her shoulder.

  “It’s no use—we can’t get rid of them!” laughed Emily. “We’ll just have to make friends.” She turned around and hugged her shadow. Kitty did the same. They started to make their shadows hug each other then drew back in embarrassment.

  They continued more quietly. Then Kitty stopped and said, “Listen, Emily . . . I have an idea. Why don’t you spend the rest of the day with me? You’d have a much better time than with the Cranes. Mama and Jack won’t be home until late this afternoon. You could stay until then.”

  What an unexpected invitation! Emily pondered it. Kitty was amusing to be with at the moment, but on the rocks she had been so gloomy and haughty. And perhaps she would turn bossy again. Emily had enough older sisters—she didn’t need someone else to tell her what to do.

  Anything, however, would be better than another day at the Cranes’. But Alice wouldn’t want her to leave.

  “Do you think Mrs. Crane would let me?” she asked.

  “I’ll come in with you and suggest it,” said Kitty. “I’m sure she’ll agree. Don’t you think it’s a good idea?”

  “Maybe . . . oh, but if you talk to her, Mrs. Crane will know I’ve been out! She’ll really scold me.”
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  “Maybe she won’t if I’m there. Do say yes, Emily. We have two horses and a pony and many chickens. We could have a pleasant day together.”

  Kitty’s sad eyes looked so yearning. She wants me! thought Emily.

  “All right,” she said. “If I’m allowed to, I’ll come.”

  FOUR

  Kitty couldn’t believe what she had just asked Emily. What was she thinking? And Mama wouldn’t approve of her having a stranger over.

  It was as if someone else had asked her, someone who couldn’t resist this lively girl. Emily was so entertaining, and her chatter was such a welcome distraction from Kitty’s brooding.

  But she was also unruly and dishevelled, and she was only nine. They had nothing in common. Emily seemed to want to come, however. It was too late to retract the invitation.

  Kitty pointed out her house as they passed it. How she wished she could leave Emily and return to its safety! She had intended to spend the whole day alone in the garden. Now that plan was ruined.

  “Couldn’t we just stay here and send a message to the Cranes?” begged Emily.

  “I think we should get permission,” said Kitty. Perhaps Mrs. Crane wouldn’t let Emily come.

  Emily looked desperate. “Oh, I hope I can sneak upstairs without seeing anyone! Then you can pretend that you heard I was visiting and decided to ask me over.”

  But when they opened the front door, Mrs. Crane was standing there as if she had been waiting for them.

  “Millie Carr, where on earth have you been?” she scolded. “Look at the state of you! Alice woke us up and said you had disappeared. You scared the life out of us! And Kitty, what are you doing here?”

  Kitty forced herself to be polite, even though she couldn’t bear this woman. “Good morning, Mrs. Crane. Emily and I were both out for an early walk and met each other.” She forced out her question. “I’ve come back with her to ask a favour. Could she please spend the day with me? Mama and Jack are away until this afternoon.”

  “And where have your dear mother and brother gone?” said Mrs. Crane, with her falsely sweet smile.

  “On a picnic to Mill Stream with the Pembertons.”

  “The Pembertons? Why didn’t your mother tell me that? I saw Teresa Pemberton only yesterday!”

  Kitty tried not to look smug. Mrs. Crane had always been jealous of Mama’s close friendship with Mrs. Pemberton.

  “I don’t know why. But may Emily come?” Why was Mrs. Crane drawing this out? Just say no! she thought angrily.

  “I’m surprised your mother left you all alone. And why would you want a little girl like Millie to keep you company? You should spend the day with us! My girls would enjoy that—they never see you anymore.”

  Mrs. Crane was so infuriating that now Kitty just wanted to win the argument. “Thank you very much, Mrs. Crane, but I really would prefer to have Emily stay at my house.”

  “What an odd request, Kitty.” Mrs. Crane’s cold eyes assessed Emily. “And you don’t deserve a treat, Millie, after scaring us so much and going out in public with scarcely any clothing on. Bare feet, no hat, no pinafore and—” she poked her finger through the gap in Emily’s frock “—not even undergarments! You’ve torn your frock and your feet are filthy! What if your poor sick mother could see you looking like a ragamuffin? She would be so ashamed.”

  Emily shuddered and hung her head.

  How cruel Mrs. Crane could be! At least Kitty could give Emily a reprieve from her. “I would very much like it if Emily could come,” she said again.

  “But why didn’t you go on the picnic?”

  “I decided not to,” said Kitty tightly. “Please, Mrs. Crane, mayn’t Emily come?”

  “My goodness, Kitty, how stubborn you are being! Very well. If you want her that much, Millie may go.”

  Mrs. Crane went to the stairs. “Alice!” she called. “Your sister is back!”

  A girl clattered down and embraced Emily. “Oh, Millie, where were you!” she cried.

  “Don’t!” said Emily, shrugging her off.

  Emily had said that Alice was eleven. She was small for her age, with thick red curls and a plain face with a long nose. Mrs. Crane introduced them. Kitty put out her hand and Alice shook it warily.

  “Kitty has asked Emily to spend the day with her and I have given my permission,” said Mrs. Crane. “Take your sister upstairs, Alice. Scrub her thoroughly, and make sure she is properly dressed.”

  “The whole day?” said Alice. “Just Emily?” She looked so forlorn; Kitty knew she yearned to be invited, as well.

  “Just Emily,” said Mrs. Crane. “Please do as I asked you.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Crane,” mumbled Alice. She and Emily trudged up the stairs.

  “I need to go and supervise breakfast,” said Mrs. Crane. “You may wait in the drawing room, Kitty.”

  Kitty sank into a soft chair near an open window. Barley, the Cranes’ fat brown-and-white spaniel, followed her into the room and climbed into the chair. She caressed his silky ears and let him lick her face. The encounter with Mrs. Crane had left her exhausted and bewildered. Why had she persisted in asking Emily over?

  She stared at the lush yellow roses that seemed to be trying to creep into the room. Mrs. Crane was a skilful gardener; Mama was always getting advice from her.

  By now Mama and Jack would have finished breakfast and piled with all the Pembertons into the hired carriage. Sophie would have asked why Kitty hadn’t come and Mama would have made the usual excuse: that her daughter was unwell.

  How cross Mama had been! “It’s extremely rude of you, Kitty, to refuse the Pembertons’ kind invitation. It’s time that you stopped this reluctance of yours to go anywhere. Why won’t you tell me the reason you are staying? Girls should not have secrets from their mothers.”

  How could Mama not know the reason? How could she forget what was special about this day?

  She couldn’t tell her the other reason, either—the reason Kitty had barely left her neighbourhood this year. Mama knew that Kitty got a stomach ache each time she did. But she didn’t know why.

  High voices sounded in the hall. Kitty had hoped not to encounter the Crane girls, but all three of them trooped into the drawing room: Grace, Mary, and Helen. They crowded in front of her. Kitty put down the dog, sat up straight, and thought how their matching coral necklaces were far too fancy to wear in the morning.

  “Good morning, Kitty!” said Helen. “Mama says you met Millie on the road. What were you doing out so early?”

  Kitty shrugged. She didn’t mind Helen, and Mary was so quiet that there was nothing to like or dislike about her. It was Grace, the eldest, whose eyes were difficult to meet.

  “We missed you at school closing on Friday,” simpered Grace. “I was top of our class and Mary got an award for her needlepoint.”

  I would have been top of the class if I’d still been there, thought Kitty. But she didn’t answer and tried to return Grace’s brazen regard.

  “Will you come back to Angela College this fall, Kitty?” asked Helen.

  “No, because in January I’m going to school in England,” said Kitty. “We’ll be spending the fall getting ready.”

  “But why did you miss this year? Are you still ill?” Helen’s voice was only curious, not mean; nevertheless, Kitty averted her gaze.

  “There’s no point in asking her,” said Grace. “She won’t reveal the reason, will you, Kitty? Well, I hope you enjoy England. Our father would never send us away. He thinks schools in Canada are just as good as schools in England.”

  Kitty tried to change the subject. “Will you be partaking in any Dominion Day celebrations?”

  Grace looked lofty. “Of course! We’re going to the Fire Department Gala.”

  “There’s going to be a parade and a brass band!” said Helen. “Mary and I are both going to enter the foot race for girls under twelve, aren’t we?”

  “Perhaps,” said Mary. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “My favourite part is
when the firemen have a tug-of-war,” said Helen.

  Kitty barely heard them. She was tired of keeping a frozen smile on her face, she needed to use the lavatory, and she was hungry for breakfast. Why was Emily taking so long?

  Finally Mrs. Crane called from the hall. Emily was standing there, scowling. Kitty couldn’t believe this was the same girl. Her round, rosy cheeks were soap shiny and her curls were gathered into a tight bundle at the back of her neck. She was encased in a spotless blue frock, a stiff white pinafore, low buttoned boots, and white stockings. She clutched a straw hat.

  This was how little girls were supposed to look, of course; but Kitty wondered where inside this clean, tidy parcel was hidden the wild, barefoot Emily she had met earlier.

  “That’s much better,” purred Mrs. Crane. “You did a good job, Alice.” She pressed Emily’s hat onto her head and snapped the elastic under her chin. “Try to behave yourself, Millie. When will you return?”

  “Mama and Jack will be home in the late afternoon, so I’ll bring her back before then,” said Kitty.

  They turned to go. “Goodbye, Millie!” called Alice sadly. “Have a good time!” When they waved from the gate, Alice was still watching from the open door.

  The sun beamed down on them; it was going to be hot. Emily had turned silent. When Kitty tried to ask her something, she just grunted.

  What have I done? moaned Kitty to herself. Lately she hadn’t even had her closest friends over. Why had she suddenly invited someone she barely knew? Now she was burdened with a sullen little girl.

  FIVE

  Emily seethed. She was angry with everyone, especially Mrs. Crane. How could she have been so harsh in front of Kitty? And worse, how could she say that about Mother? Mother wouldn’t be ashamed of how Emily looked! She would just sigh as usual and call Emily her little bird.

  Emily was angry with her sister, as well. “I don’t think you should go to that girl’s house,” Alice had said, as she ran the hairbrush roughly through Emily’s curls. “Her parents aren’t even there!”

  “You just want to come, too,” muttered Emily, wincing at the brush.