Whistling through clenched teeth, she got up from the bed and shuffled over to the window seat. A built-in unit, the design intrigued her. She knelt down and ran a hand over its smooth surface. On impulse, she lifted the cushion and peered underneath. She spotted a tiny knob and gave it a twist. The seat lid rattled, shifted, and she was able to lift it up. Inside the hollow seat was a collection of unrelated items, including a small, fat book. Randy reached in, turned it over, and read the title. The words My Diary were embossed on the cover along with the name Emily Anne Bainbridge. Her mother’s diary.
Randy’s hands trembled as she carried the book to the bed. Sitting cross-legged, she opened the diary and turned to the first dog-eared page. Her mother’s penmanship was similar to her own, and this sent a ripple of goose bumps down her arm. She read.
December 25, 1979
I will not begin with Dear Diary when I write in this book. Everybody does that. I’ll just date the page and write. I’m so glad I got a diary for Christmas. Now I can talk to someone who won’t argue with me like Amanda does. Mama practically ignores me, and Arthur has become really moody. He hardly smiles anymore. Thinks he’s so important. And Daddy is always too busy arguing with Arthur over something political. If you ask me, I’d say Arthur spends too much time in the Past. I love South Carolina, too, but it’s the twentieth century. Arthur acts like The War—emphasis on the caps, if you please—is still going on. Give me a break... And Elizabeth is no better. She used to be such fun, but now she’s a real you-know-what in the you-know-where. But you know? I don’t care. When I go back to school, I won’t have to hear their constant arguing. If only Miranda would come home. I miss her so much.... Colton is glad to be going back to school too. He doesn’t care a fig what anybody says. But of course nobody scolds Colton. He can take the boat out and do anything he wants. I’m not allowed to go anywhere without supervision. Amanda is so fearful since Miranda disappeared. She watches me like a hawk, or a prison guard. Aunt Elizabeth just complains or plays the piano all day and sings those horribly melancholy songs. She gives me the creeps. If only my family could be happy again.
Randy read on and on. She devoured the pages written by her mother when she’d been a teenager. Many of the pages had been scratched hastily at school, but most were written at the mansion, and Randy could tell that her mother had truly loved this place—impossible though it seemed.
…I love the quiet, the loveliness of tangled woods, the palmetto, the myrtle, the magnolia, the drippy moss. I love the smell of the thick pluff mud in the marsh and am tempted to wade out in it just to feel the squishy goo between my toes. I won’t of course because I know how dangerous it is. Mr. Paxton died on the marsh when he tried to cross it one night while drunk. Daddy and Mama don’t know I overheard them talking about this, and I won’t tell them I was listening at the door. And I love the sea.. When I grow up and marry I’ll have to live by the sea or I’ll die, I think…
A knock on the door shattered her reverie. She called ‘come in’ and Evangeline stepped over the threshold with a smile. “You gon be late for lunch, child, if you don’ hurry.”
Randy glanced at her little clock in dismay. “Gosh. I was so caught up in reading my mom’s diary I didn’t even think about the time. Am I too late?”
“Not yet, but you’s gon be if yo don’ fly. You gon hafta hurry to change into a dress.”
“Nope. I’m not changing. I’m coming down just the way I am.”
Evangeline didn’t comment but just shook her head and mumbled something so low that Randy couldn’t hear. The maid followed her down the long curving staircase and walked with her as far as the dining room. Randy entered alone. Aunt Amanda, Uncle Arthur, Aunt Carolina, and Willadee were already seated at the table. Aunt Amanda frowned when she saw the shorts.
“We try to dignify our meals by dressing appropriately, Miranda.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Amanda, but where I come from shorts are okay. I only brought two dresses. At home I wear shorts or jeans all the time.”
“I see… Are you aware, my dear, that we are related to some of the more renowned Charlestonians?”
“Uh, no, I wasn’t. Who?”
“Francis Marion is one.”
“Francis Who?”
A slight shudder passed over Aunt Amanda, but she regained her self-imposed aplomb and gave a low cough. “Francis Marion, dear. Otherwise known by the whimsical, though historic appellation, Swamp Fox, of all things.”
“Oh, sure. I’ve heard of him. Disney made some movies about him. My best friend and I are really into old movies and love the old Disney classics so I’ve even seen one. That’s neat. I’ll do some research so I can know more about him.” She smiled at the others and was a little uncomfortable when her older aunt continued to stare at her with ill-concealed disapproval. Wetting her suddenly dry lips, Randy added, “So. I’ve got some important great-great grand-somethings...neat…”
Aunt Amanda cleared her throat. “Suffice it to say, Miranda, that is one reason we try to maintain an aura of poise and dignity. We deem it important to dress for the occasion, as it were.”
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know…”
“Well, no use belaboring the issue. I guess we can overlook it since you are our guest and unfamiliar with our customs. Just make sure you are clean, and that your hair has been combed before coming to meals.”
“Yes, Auntie.”
After that, they ate the chicken pot pies in relative silence. Once Willadee said something to her mother and Aunt Carolina replied. Aunt Amanda and Uncle Arthur remained silent, and Randy had nothing more to say so the entire meal was eaten as though they’d all taken a vow of silence.
Needless to say, the chicken potpie congealed into an uncomfortable lump in Randy’s stomach by the meal’s end. She entertained the thought of sneaking into the kitchen later and begging Esther for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Or grilled cheese. Wouldn’t that light their fire. No, that was probably the last thing she should do. She poked at the yellow lumps on her plate until dessert was served.
When they had consumed the last fresh berry, and a wraith-like Evangeline had removed each cut glass bowl, Aunt Amanda shattered the silence by speaking.
“Miranda, I have spoken to your Uncle Colton on the telephone and discussed it with Uncle Arthur and Aunt Carolina. We have decided to let you use the small motor boat that Colton used as a boy…”
“Yes.” Randy squealed then bit her lip after reading her aunt’s reaction.
“You have a most unpleasant habit of interrupting, Miranda, and it’s not attractive, especially at your age. As I was saying, you may use the boat after you demonstrate your prowess to your Uncle Colton and to me. I want to be truly satisfied that you know what you are doing.”
“When?”
“He’ll be home this evening around 6:00, and you can show us then.”
Randy bounced up from her chair, ran around the table and threw her arms around her startled aunt’s neck. “Oh, thank you Aunt Amanda. Thank you. I can’t wait to go to the beach.”
“Miranda. Stop this nonsense at once. Please, display some self-control. If this is the way you show your maturity, I’m not convinced you are capable of something as prodigious as managing a motor boat.”
Randy withdrew her arms from around her aunt and resumed her seat. The heat flooded her cheeks and she wanted to die from embarrassment. Eyes fixed on her, and the sensation was like tiny bugs crawling up and down her arms. She sent heaven a silent plea for patience and strength.
EIGHT
After lunch, Randy received ‘permission to stroll about the grounds’. In those words exactly. Not wanting to further irritate her aunt, she acquiesced without a murmur and even managed a gracious thank you. Since she couldn’t wander far, she circled the house once then ambled over to a hammock suspended between two pines. She shook out the ample folds, releasing the dry pine needles and debris, then sat down in it. It cradled her like a cocoon. After fidgeting with her
T-shirt that had bunched beneath her and tugging at her shorts, she was comfortable.
She pulled out her cell phone and punched the number for M.C. Like the night before, only the voice mail. Frustration and annoyance bubbled up, and she was tempted to throw the phone across the yard. Then realization hit like the proverbial ton of bricks. “Jeez Louise, I’m thick. I completely forgot about the hiking trip with your freakin’ cousins. But why didn’t you take your phone. Ohh, Mary Catherine. Darn you. I need to talk to somebody.”
But that was M.C. for you. Scatter-brained and effervescent and as lovable as a Labrador Retriever. And her best friend since grade school. Nothing she could do about it. The immediate now was the problem, and the future looked muddy. Destiny decreed that she endure this month without any of the comforts of home. Rather like serving a sentence. Or being sent to a convent in Outer Mongolia—did they even have convents in Outer Mongolia? With a resigned sigh, Randy reached for the frayed rope lying under the hammock and gave it a fierce tug. Her cocoon rocked back and forth.
The buzzing of insects and the moist warmth of the too still air made her drowsy. Before long, Randy’s head dropped, her eyes closed. In her dream she saw a pretty woman with a pallid complexion and pale, limp hair, walking across the lawn as though in a trance. She seemed to float toward the wide marsh. Even in her dream, Randy knew the woman was her Uncle Arthur’s wife. The infamous Elizabeth.
She called out to Elizabeth, but she could not or would not acknowledge her. Randy watched in horrified fascination as the pale figure stepped into the swaying gray-green grass that belied the treacherous oozing black mud beneath. Before Randy’s stricken eyes, the woman began sinking. As if in slow motion…she sank…to her knees…to her thighs…past her waist…down, down, down…until the swaying marsh grass swallowed her. Lost forever in a nether world of muck and slime.
Randy awoke with a start. She blinked into the sun, bewildered by the normalcy of things around her. The same droning insects, the same gnarled oaks flaunting arms draped with mossy stoles; the same hammock gently rocked her in the lazy afternoon. She looked toward the marsh, heart pounding a mile a minute. The dream had been so real. Randy trembled from the terrifying drama she’d just ‘witnessed’.
“Jeez, get a hold on yourself, you ninny,” she muttered. “It was just a stupid dream, just a…”
Glancing over at the house, she was startled to see her cousin standing on the side porch, watching her. Randy sat up, resisted the urge to make a face, and waved instead. Desperate for human companionship, even the prissy Willadee was better than nothing.
“Willadee. Hey, Willadee. Don’t just stand there gawking. Come over so we can talk.”
A bit surprised to see her cousin acquiesce, Randy grinned and patted the hammock beside her. There was ample room for both girls to sit and dangle their legs over the side.
“Hi. Let’s talk...and get to know each other. I don’t think we’ve said more than a few sentences to one another since I got here.”
“Okay,” Willadee sighed and sat down.
“So. First cousins. That’s neat. I’ve always wanted a cousin...someone my own age. How old are you? I just turned sixteen, but I already have my driver’s license.”
“I’m also sixteen. I’ll be seventeen in December.”
“You’re kidding. I thought you were younger than me.”
“Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know…” Randy looked around, searching for something to say that wouldn’t put her cousin off. What could she say? I thought you were younger because you act like it? You are stiff and haughty and annoying? No, better to change the subject. “Man, I...I just had the weirdest dream. It was about Elizabeth...walking into the marsh. It was awful. It was like...like I was there, watching, but...I couldn’t do a thing to help. You know?”
Willadee’s eyes riveted on her. “Why would you dream about that?”
“Gosh, I don’t know. I heard the story earlier, and I guess it made an impression on me. You’ve got to admit it’s a pretty creepy story.”
Willadee looked down at her folded, well-manicured hands. “Yes, it’s a very sad story.” Raising her head, her blue eyes locked onto Randy’s once again. “Have you ever seen a ghost, Miranda?”
Randy tried to laugh but it got stuck somewhere in her throat.
“You have, haven’t you?” Willadee pressed.
Randy wrinkled her nose. “Of course not. You don’t think I saw a ghost now, do you? Willadee, it was just a dream. A weird dream, maybe, but a dream all the same.”
“I think you’re lying,” her cousin said just above a whisper.
Randy’s eyes lowered. “That’s nonsense. Jeez. It was just a dream.”
“If you say so. But I know you’re not telling me the truth. You have seen a ghost. You have, but you’re afraid to admit it. I understand.”
For some reason, Randy couldn’t bring herself to tell Willadee about the previous night when she had seen the ghostly figure of a woman flitting in and out among the trees. Deciding to change the subject yet again—she was going nowhere in the conversation department—she waved a hand in the direction of the ocean. “Do you ever go to the beach? Do you have a car? A boyfriend? I mean...well, what do you do for fun around here?”
Willadee remained silent for a moment and then said, “Not much… Read, crochet, play the piano, listen to CDs in my room.” She paused then continued. “And, no, I don’t have my own car. And, no, I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Unbelievable. How about the beach? You go to the beach, don’t you?”
“No.”
“You’re kidding, right? Gosh, if I lived here, I’d be at the beach every day. Do you get to borrow the car ever? Go into town? Shopping? Bowling? Anything?”
“I don’t drive.”
“You don’t? Jeez, why not? If I lived here, I’d either take the boat out everyday or take the car into town.”
Willadee stared at her frankly. “No, you wouldn’t. Aunt Amanda wouldn’t allow it.”
“What? She wouldn’t allow it. What do your parents say? I mean, you’re sixteen, for Pete’s sake. Who crowned Aunt Amanda queen?”
“You don’t understand the dynamics here at The Shadows. For anything to do with the house and the property, Aunt Amanda has full authority. For personal things concerning just our family, my mother and father do.”
“That is too weird. Why doesn’t she want you to have any fun, like any other normal, healthy teenager?”
Willadee sighed again. “Oh, Miranda...it’s not so black and white. Auntie is apprehensive about a lot of things...like the marsh...so much so, in fact, that I was very surprised when she told you at lunch that there was a chance you could take the boat out. I almost choked on my dessert. That was definitely not the Auntie I know, speaking.”
“Hmm, that’s funny… So, why is she being so permissive, then? My appealing charm and wit?”
Willadee grimaced. “Well, we’ll just see whether you pass inspection first. But, truthfully? I think it’s because you resemble your mother so much. There’s been so much tragedy here that everybody’s, well...slightly depressed and…”
“Slightly?”
“And I think, because you look so much like Emily. They all miss her. Perhaps you’ve given them a little of the old joy back.”
“They miss Emily after all these years? Sheesh. Oh, well, maybe you’re right, but, jeez. I get the impression that dear Aunt Amanda takes fiendish delight in finding fault with me. She disapproves of what I wear, the way I talk, walk...everything. She treats me like a child, and a dim-witted one at that. You talk about joy?”
“Ah, but she didn’t make you change out of your shorts, did she? If you work hard enough, you’ll soon be wrapping Auntie around your little finger. I envy you.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, Miranda, I’m not. I hate it here.”
“How can you stand to live here then? Do you go to school nearby or to some swanky private boar
ding school like my mother did?”
“Oh, I thought you knew. My parents and I only live here during the summer. We have a condo in Charleston. That’s where I go to school. Daddy works in Charleston, but likes to be here whenever he can. Mama also helps Auntie with Grandmarm when we’re here. It’s getting harder and harder for Auntie and Uncle Arthur to meet her growing needs and take care of this place with the little help they have. Henry and Esther, not to mention the ancient Evangeline, are practically worthless.”
“Oh, really? Funny. I like them. A lot.”
“Oh. I didn’t mean to imply that I didn’t. They are nice enough, I guess. It’s just that...well, never mind. I loathe this place. That’s all.”
“Well, if I were spending every summer here, I would’ve complained until they let me use the boat and get to the beach...every day if I wanted. And I’d get my driver’s license so I could do whatever, whenever. I might even get a summer job. Anything to get me out of that creepy monstrosity they call a house.” Randy pushed with her toes and made the hammock swing. “I guess it’s a good thing I did come here. If what you say is true about me getting my way, then I’ll have you boating with me and out on the beach in no time at all.”
A smile flitted across Willadee’s face. “Well, I’m not sure I want to go out in the boat...not through that marsh, anyway, but I wish you lots of luck. As I said...everything isn’t black and white. One does what one has to do.”
“Yeah? Give me a break. I mean, I realize the marsh is pretty freaky when you think about Elizabeth just walking out onto it and sinking. But, please. Get some spunk, girl. Stop acting like some nineteenth century heroine. I’d sure like to know more about that story. She must’ve had a pretty serious reason to commit suicide.”
“Miranda, don’t.”
“And I’m also dying to know about the mystery of the missing twin...the elusive Miranda. I mean, why would she just run away over something so trivial when they hardly ever fought? That is beyond belief. Too melodramatic, if you ask me.”
Without warning, Willadee leapt from the hammock, almost upsetting Randy, and folded her arms against her chest. “Don’t get too curious, Miranda Smith. Mind your own business, do as Auntie tells you, and before you know it, your month here will be over. Then you can fly home to your wonderful, idyllic Seattle and your wonderful father and forget all about us. I’m trying to be nice. Don’t get too curious and go snooping around. You’ll regret you ever did.”
Shade and Shadow Page 5
