Butler, who’s learned to watch Rebecca and hears what she’s thinking, takes the little belt out of the box and tells her to call Heart. Heart comes and sits in front of them. Butler buckles the little belt around Heart’s neck.
“I say, it’s a proper collar for a proper dog, miss. Lovely, isn’t it?”
Just then the father shows up. He has a long matching strap and he hooks it onto Heart’s proper collar.
“It’s a proper leash for the proper collar on a proper dog,” he says.
“Now Rebecca and Heart can go out for proper hill walking,” exclaimed Cook; everyone laughs.
Heart looks just a bit suspicious about all this. He pulls and tugs and tries to roll the collar off. Eventually he gives in and walks the proper way for a dog on a leash to walk. I feel sorry for the old boy. If only he had wings, I could advise him.
The mother kneels down beside Heart and offers him the back of her hand. We’ve all seen Rebecca do this so many times. Heart sniffs the hand and edges a little closer and sniffs the mother. Now that Heart is clean, she slowly pets his neck the way she’s seen Rebecca do. Heart watches her intently. This stretches his trust to the limits. He looks to Rebecca. He glances at the father and back to Rebecca.
Rebecca’s eyes focus on her feet. The mother speaks to her.
“Rebecca, we’ve seen how important Heart is to you. We’ve seen you do things with Heart we were told you could never do. We’ve heard you laugh and we’ve seen you cry. Heart taught you to not be afraid, and to trust others, while you were teaching him the same things.
“Now with this collar and leash you may have Heart with you all the time. He can be with you wherever you go. He can come inside now, and share your room and your life. He truly is your Heart.”
Rebecca must look very strange to Heart at this moment. In fact, it startles me, too, to see her teeth. Everyone is happy and seems pleased with this change in her appearance, so I guess it is a good thing. Heart decides it’s a good look for his girl. He thumps his damp tail, and he too smiles. The long, pink tongue unrolls and he slurps a hand. It doesn’t matter whose. We’re all family now.
Chapter 7
Birthday Party
It’s a golden day and the weather is cooling. The summer is nearly at an end. With new shoes pinching her feet, a new red cardigan covering her thin arms and a red leash in her hand, Rebecca is ready to take a walk with Butler and Heart. She has no idea about taking a walk, of course. But, Butler’s a quiet man; she’s learned to trust him. He doesn’t talk at her, he doesn’t stare at her, and he never touches her. He just accepts her and lets her help when she wishes. He seems to think this taking a walk is a good idea. Heart seems eager enough to try. I’m flexing my wings, sort of a runner’s stretch for fliers. Rebecca is going to give it a try. I don’t fly so fast in cool weather, so I hope they aren’t planning to walk too fast.
Rebecca and Heart have never been any farther than the last row of hedges for as long as we’ve lived here. None of us are exactly sure how long that’s been. I’ve been out scouting a bit, though I tend to stay close to home, too.
Today we’re going beyond the hedges, up the street to make a visit to the harvest market. We set off right after breakfast. I conserve my energy, resting on everything along the way.
In her dress pocket, Rebecca has a few dried peas. She rolls them lightly between her fingers while they walk. I fly, landing here and there. Her shiny new shoes are biting her toes and annoying her. Butler has his bumbershoot. Heart wears his red collar attached to the proper red leash. It drags along on the path behind him, while he walks next to Rebecca.
Butler mentions the weather a few times, but finally gives up on conversation. They walk on in silence. The silence makes my buzzing sound obnoxiously loud. They listen to the katydids and cicadas, and watch the butterflies gathering nectar. Butler puts up his umbrella against the noonday sun.
Heart trots alongside. He sniffs the air, smells the ground, and relieves himself on the corner trees. He splashes through puddles, and drags the red leash behind him. He’s enjoying this proper walk immensely. I zip from roses to fence posts to ground litter, to puddles, keeping all my eyes on my family.
Rebecca notices the shapes of everything around her. She counts sets of pebbles, fence posts, trees, roses, sets of circles, rectangles, squares, and triangles. She counts them and keeps the running tally of all the sets in straight columns in her organized mind. Butler walks beside her quietly observing.
I find her a fascinating human. Of course one needs at least five hundred eyes to see this about her. The shoes distract her and she fingers the peas in her pocket. But everything she sees and feels is organized in Rebecca’s mind in sets of colors, sizes, and shapes. Butler occasionally stops to point out a wildflower or a pine nut or acorn. Rebecca looks but doesn’t touch.
As we pass lane after lane, the neighbors call good morning and wave. They cluck to each other about the “rude little waif who can’t be bothered to look at you and that useless mutt dragging his leash around.” They just don’t understand Rebecca and Heart.
I should tell you about one summer morning of particular interest and a happy memory for me. You know the old saying about best laid plans going awry and all that.
Rebecca perches on a stool in the kitchen beside Cook eating her breakfast muesli. I’m having my morning steam bath on the handle of the tea kettle. The mother bursts into the kitchen waving colored cards in her hand and chattering like a magpie.
“Oh, Rebecca, darling, here you are!”
Same place she is every morning at this hour, I can tell her. I’ve not had a drop of coffee yet this morning, so perhaps I sound a touch crusty.
“Just look at these pretty invitations, dear. Which one do you like the best? Do you like this one with the balloons, or the flowers, or do you like the bright rainbow the best?”
Rebecca lays her spoon down and looks at her oatmeal. I sense rather than feel her annoyance at the intrusion. I shake the moisture off my wings and join her to have a look. Rebecca gives the cards a sideways glance. She doesn’t seem terribly interested.
“Rebecca, could you just once look at me when I speak to you? This is for your very own birthday party, and I’d like you to show some interest. Choose one!”
Rebecca picks up one of the cards without looking at it.
“Oh, that’s wonderful, darling. I’m glad you selected the balloons; they’re my favorite, too. Now, we need to make a list of your guests. We’ll invite all the children we know from town. I believe some of the neighbors may also have some children. I’ll ask Butler to check on that.” She could ask me. I know where all the kids live.
“We’ll serve cake and ice cream and have lots of balloons for everyone.”
Cake and ice cream, which I know will be dropped in the grass and smeared on the table, sounds hunky-dory to me, though at the moment I’d settle for a drop of coffee. Rebecca doesn’t seem too impressed by any of it. Heart takes note of the mother’s enthusiasm with interest.
“And, my princess, you shall have a new party dress and shiny shoes to wear to your party. Right after breakfast, we’ll go into the city and buy everything we need. We’ll have a wonderful time, won’t we? Hurry up and finish your breakfast and get washed up. And for goodness sake, Cook, will you please brush her hair?”
Rebecca picks up her spoon and slowly eats the rest of her muesli. She isn’t in a hurry to leave, I can see that. If anything, she’s dawdling more. A day in the city means a day without Heart. I’ll keep him company, but Rebecca won’t enjoy the day without him.
Heart watches the preparations and knows he’ll be spending the day alone with only a fly on the wall for company. He jumps onto their bed and lies down on the old army blanket Butler placed on the bed just for him. But restless, he jumps up and starts pacing back and forth trying to watch the street below for her return. I saunter up the window above him.
Rebecca dresses and obediently sits while Cook brushes and
braids her hair. Rebecca really hates this. She doesn’t like her hair to be touched. She doesn’t like the rustle of movement behind her or the sound of the brush on her scalp. She’s learned over time to sit still and get it over with. She pounds her hands into her lap, while managing to hold her head still. She knows Cook won’t harm her, but she really hates this.
From where I sit, I think she’s growing up rather nicely, soldiering on, really, in the face of adversity. Stiff upper lip, girl, that’s it! I want to shout out to her.
When the car returns later that day, Heart is sound asleep. I buzz his ears a few times and he wakes up excitedly and slobbers on the window. The car is laden with parcels and bags. The mother merrily fills the household in on all the details of the trip. She spreads the contents of the packages for inspection.
Rebecca quietly disappears up the staircase to find Heart. She finds him awake and tail wagging on his old army blanket.
The day of the party the entire household is engaged in the preparation. Cook is icing a huge pink cake when Rebecca appears for breakfast. She feeds Heart and watches Butler inflate a pile of balloons. She and Heart go into the garden where Gardener fills vases with fresh cut flowers and roses. The caterers are in the yard setting up chairs, tables, and canopies. Butler ties balloons to the chairs and Gardener puts flowers on the tables. Everything looks party-ready.
Heart and Rebecca sit on the back step and watch the unusual activity. Rebecca sways silently back and forth with the rhythm of Heart’s tail. In her mind she organizes the round balloons by color, in even sets.
Heart looks up and Rebecca looks down when a lorry pulling a long trailer drives up the lane. Men get out and pace off some measurements. After a word with Butler, they hammer stakes into the ground. Rebecca, eyes down and head tilted upwards, watches from the corners of her eyes. Heart sits tall and watches intently. He sniffs the air. I climb higher on the screen door for a better view. The men cluck their tongues and lead brown and white ponies out of the trailer. Heart and Rebecca gaze nervously at the strange sight and barnyard smell. I’m getting pretty excited myself at this point. I love a pony ride.
By the time the guests arrive, the yard is a fantasy of childhood dreams. Rebecca looked at herself in the mirror and she and I agree she looks like the lamp shade covered round with pink ruffles.
Rebecca moves from her step to the lilac bush. She crawls beneath it in her frilly new party dress and shiny new patent leather shoes.
Heart wears a red bow tie around his neck that is just out of his reach, no matter how hard he tries to scratch it off. He crawls under the bush with Rebecca and puts a reassuring paw in her lap. From there they enjoy the party together. Me, the odd man out, I balance on the lilacs and watch for the punch to spill and garbage to accumulate.
A calliope plays and a clown turns cartwheels. He gathers the children for games, amidst cheers, squeals, and laughter. Since none of the guests know Rebecca, none are aware that she isn’t among them. Her hands are over her ears, and she sways herself into the shadow of the lilac bush.
When Cook announces cake and ice cream, the guests scramble to the tables, all wanting to be first. They look like my family reunion of flies, not on our best behavior. Cook knows where she can find Rebecca and Heart, but she thinks they’ll be happier left under the bush. I see her hesitate and then decide. She turns away from our bush.
“It’s the young miss’s birthday, after all, and she can celebrate however she chooses,” she says to Butler. “Her mother is at a meeting this afternoon, so I say Rebecca can make her own choices at her own party.” But, Gardener has already summoned them and is escorting them to the tables.
Two boys, each clamoring for the same chair, cause the chair to topple over. The balloon bursts with a loud bang. Heart leaps into the air and dives for cover under the table, spilling a tray of punch cups. Peals of laughter and cheers follow. The balloons begin to burst, one after the other to the great joy of the party guests, and poor Heart’s terror. The frantic dog dives under the cake table. His bow tie catches on the table leg.
The terrified dog, who in his earlier life fled from noises like this, tries to run from the blasts of the bursting balloons. His heart pounds and he digs into the grass. He pulls, trying to free himself. I cheer him on in my little buzzy way. Never give up, Heart, I want to shout. Never give up!
The bow tie finally snaps. He hurtles headlong under the table. The tablecloth drags with him.
The laughter turns to screams and shouts. Cook arrives on the scene just in time to see the tablecloth and the cake move across the table and disappear over the edge. I rush to the scene. To help salvage the remains, of course.
To save the day, the pony man announces it’s time to ride. Everyone forms a queue for their turn riding the brown and white ponies. The tables empty and the children quiet down. Heart, Rebecca, and I spend our exile licking pink icing under the table. So much icing! The table legs drip with punch.
As the afternoon sun is setting, the guests take their leave. From under the table Rebecca and Heart watch many feet coming and going. Ponies, plates, chairs, canopies, streamers, and finally the tables themselves are removed and packed. I whiz around the yard working off my excessive sugar intake. Rebecca and Heart move back to their step. The mother arrives home and finds them watching the lorry pulling away with the tables and chairs.
“Oh, Rebecca, darling! Look at you! Icing all over you! My goodness, you must’ve had a wonderful time today, running and playing with your friends. It was a wonderful party, wasn’t it? Oh, I’m so happy you had such a good time. By the look of you, you must’ve been a very busy birthday girl and hostess. We must thank Cook.”
Rebecca glances up at the mother, studying her out of the corner of her eye. She sees five hair pins stuck in the mother’s hair, three on one side, two on the other.
I watch Rebecca, knowing something is coming. Her mind says, ‘Five. Odd. No.’ She cocks her head and skews her eye to even out the missing hair pin. Heart cocks his head to be helpful. With all my experience with multi-eyed vision, I could have told them that wouldn’t work. The mother looks at the oddly tilted pair and wonders what in the world they are thinking.
“Let’s get ready for bed, birthday girl,” the mother says. She bends over to give Rebecca a little kiss on her cheek.
Rebecca reaches up and snatches hair pin number three and throws it. The mother looks surprised. Now it’s her turn to cock her head.
“What?” she asks. “Why did you take my hairpin?”
“Even,” replies Rebecca in her detached monotone. She straightens her head, glances at the mother and looks past her toward me on the wall.
Heart apparently agrees with Rebecca that it looks better. He kisses the mother, making her laugh.
“Okay, off to bed, you two,” she laughs. She touches her four hair pins. “Even?”
Chapter 8
After Rebecca and Heart and I have been in our new home for quite a while and are feeling comfortable, the father shows us the rest of the house. They begin to explore the large house and all its rooms. I’d been hoping for a tour of this place, so I join in readily. With winter coming on we’ll all be spending more time indoors.
“Everything in this house is yours,” the father says. “We want you to be comfortable. You may have anything you like.” I doubt they are including me in this generous invitation, but I spend some time on their fruit bowl. So far, I don’t think Rebecca finds anything that interests her.
Heart’s favorite rooms, of course, are Cook’s kitchen and Butler’s pantry. These rooms are usually bustling with activity and always smell good with a promise of food. I fly tight to the dog, escorting him on his tours.
He likes to lie in front of the fireplace while Rebecca reads her books in the window seat of the sitting room. I frequently read over her shoulder while resting on the window. Heart likes the little patch of sunshine on a rug in the library when Rebecca looks at the books, learning new things. I wade t
hrough dust on the books.
Heart also likes to lie on Rebecca’s big bed where Butler threw an old wool army blanket across the foot of the bed just for him. It’s a gift to Heart from Butler. I hang on the ceiling of the bedroom and nap, or watch over my friends.
Rebecca doesn’t use her bedroom very much, other than to dress, undress, and sleep. She usually sleeps at the foot of the bed curled up with Heart. I think she doesn’t like the room because it’s so big. She feels lost inside it. There is too much air. I feel that lack of coziness myself in large spaces. Sometimes she sits inside the closet. It’s quieter and she feels safer, I think. She lines her shoes up in pairs against the closet wall. I don’t venture into the closet. As I mentioned, I am claustrophobic. The mother must notice this about Rebecca, too, because she makes a suggestion to Rebecca.
“Rebecca, everyone needs her own space to call her own. You must make your room comfortable anyway you wish. Make it a place where you’d like to be.” Rebecca stares at the wall, and I’m not sure she gets that message.
It’s raining, so Heart, Rebecca, and I stay inside. Rain tends to make me sluggish and Heart, well, he’s just a mess. We all go to Rebecca’s room after lunch. She closes the door. I pace on the ceiling for a while wondering if I’m ever going to be let out.
Heart cocks his head and studies her. What is our girl going to do? I’m sure the household downstairs wonders the same thing. They hear loud noises scraping and thumping above them.
Rebecca pushes her big bed into a corner. I ride on the bedpost. I try to help her push, but I don’t have a lot of muscle.
Heart’s foot of the bed is now in front of the window overlooking the street below. Rebecca empties all her book shelves. She organizes her books by color and size, and lines them up on the bookshelf. All the red books in descending size, occupy the top shelf. Next, all the blue books, tallest to shortest, stand straight. All the shelves are blocks of color with a curious, but deliberate repeating zigzag pattern. She puts the little table and chair in the middle of the room.
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