Finding Midnight

by T. Lynne Tolles

  The cottage, though it needed some work, was actually quite adorable, homey, and somehow comforting. Summer liked it—she liked it a lot. They heard a toot of a car horn and Tori asked, “You going to be okay here or should I tell Nick I’m staying?”

  “No. I’m good. You have fun,” Summer said, looking around then tossing the manila pouch the sister gave her and her purse on the sofa.

  “You sure? Because Nick would totally understand my staying, or he could join us and hang out here to keep you company,” Tori said.

  “I’m fine; in fact, aside from having a graveyard a stone’s throw away, I like it. Might even start a fire and read a book.”

  “Okay. If you are positive,” Tori said, eyeing Summer closely. When she determined she was indeed okay, she hugged her and said, “See you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks for everything, Tori. Have fun.”

  “We will,” she said as the door shut on her last word.

  Summer took a detailed inventory of her surroundings as she walked through the house alone. Wispy, sheer white curtains in the bedroom covered French doors to a porch facing the woods. The bed was an old, warm-colored walnut with a high headboard that didn’t squeak when sitting on the mattress. She liked this point so much that she bounced up and down on the bed in pure delight not to hear the ear-piercing sounds to which she had grown so accustomed.

  An ancient but lovely quilt covered the bed and it was obvious Sister Margaret had fluffed the pillows and made the bed, for there on the pillow was an orange M&M—her signature mark (every Christmas Sister Margaret set a single M&M on each of the girl’s pillows in the orphanage). Summer smiled as she slipped the M&M quickly into her mouth.

  She unpacked her few belongings into the dresser and closet, then lit a couple huge altar candles the nuns obviously brought to put on the grate of the fireplace—a pretend fire in May.

  She made her way to the kitchen, unsure of what she might find. The cabinets were thick with old paint and needed a good yank to reveal their contents. Whether from the sisters or the owner of the cottage, she had everything she needed, dishes, utensils, a few pots, and an ancient old gas stove. Someone had even supplied her with a small microwave you might find in a dorm room. Checking the fridge to see what the sisters had provided, she found it was obvious Sister Margaret had someone else do the shopping since there was food other than fruits and vegetables.

  She found macaroni and cheese, bread, peanut butter and jelly, and frosted Mini-Wheats for breakfast—food she might actually eat. Feeling her first night in her new home deserved a hot meal, she made the mac and cheese, but to make Sister Margaret happy, she pulled out a small can of French cut string beans and warmed them in a beat-up old pan. Okay, so they weren’t FRESH vegetables but they were vegetables, she could argue with the sister.

  A noise on the porch made her heart lurch. She slinked to the window to check if someone might be there. She thought she saw a shadow move. Breath caught in her throat as she crept silently towards the window for a peek. Her eyes darted to every dark niche, but she saw no further movement. She wrote it off as new place jitters and the breeze that was picking up outside.

  After she ate and cleaned up, she grabbed a blanket off the back of the sofa and settled in with a book. The candles flickered as air leaked from the old tin flue. The silence was amazing and even a little scary. After spending all her life in an orphanage, silence was something she could never get enough of. Now it was almost too quiet. It had been a long day with graduation, work, moving into a new home, and finding her best friend was dating a vampire, so not long after starting her book she found her eyes heavy and her new pillow calling.

  A double-sized bed seemed enormous compared to a lifetime in a twin bed and she enjoyed spreading out. She was painfully aware of every noise and shadow that as the wind made the trees sway and moan, but sleep won out in the end.

  *****

  The next morning, Summer found a note on the dogmobile.

  Ms. Raine,

  I would appreciate if you would not park your atrocity of an auto in front of the manor gate. If you must drive it, then please park at the side gate, out of sight. The side gate can be found off the small dirt road to the right of the property. If you must have visitors, please see to it they too park at the side gate. I would rather not see or hear any such things.

  I also expect you will be starting on my garden immediately, since it is part of the agreement. Please stay to your side of the property. I don’t want you snooping in my business.

  Regards,

  Ms. M. Midnight

  What a lovely welcome to my new home, Summer thought as she chuckled. She climbed into the SUV and headed for work.

  As usual, Summer and Tori walked to the park on the corner for lunch.

  “So how was your date with the vampire?” Summer asked.

  “Perfect,” Tori purred. “The more I learn about him, the more I find him incredibly intriguing.”

  “Of course it doesn’t hurt that you’ve been in love with vampires since you were five,” Summer interjected.

  “Yeah. That helps.” Tori giggled. “It’s not like the movies at all, no coffins, no capes, no garlic. I mean he was born just like you and me. Who knew? It’s nothing like I expected.”

  “Why? Are you disappointed he doesn’t want to bite your neck?” Summer said in a very bad Transylvanian accent.

  “Ha ha! Very funny. It’s just different. So how was your first night at the manor?”

  “Good,” Summer said without much enthusiasm.

  “Good? Not fabulous, amazing or wonderful?”

  “No. Just good.”

  “Did something happen?”

  “No. I mean, well, no. I just had a weird dream…I guess it was a dream.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I thought I saw a shadow walk by the bedroom window a couple of times, but I’m not sure. I think it was just a dream or something.”

  “Hmm,” Tori said, rather worried.

  “I know that ‘Hmm.’ That’s your worried/distrusting ‘Hmm.’”

  “It’s just when Nick picked me up yesterday he was acting very odd.”

  “Odd for a vampire? How would you know?”

  “You’re hysterically funny today,” Tori said. Summer giggled. “But seriously, he asked me a bunch of questions about the manor and old Lady Midnight and he seemed concerned.”

  “What did he say?” Summer asked.

  “He asked if you knew any ‘old souls.’”

  “‘Old souls?’ Did you tell him I am now neighbor to about a hundred old souls in my very own graveyard?”

  “He didn’t think he was sensing the dead. In fact he wasn’t sure what it was and he said he had never sensed anything like it.”

  “Does he often get these ‘senses’?” Summer joked.

  “No, I mean, he can tell when another vampire is near, but he really seemed concerned for your well-being,” Tori said.

  “Well, now that is something, but I’m sure I will be fine. Maybe he’s just sensing Ms. Midnight. She left me a lovely note on the car this morning.” Summer reached in her pocket and handed Tori the note.

  “What an old bat,” Tori said. “I mean, the dogmobile is not a glamorous ride but it’s not like she keeps up the place.”

  “I know, right? But in all fairness, it is her house and I don’t mind, especially if this other gate is closer to the cottage and I don’t have to walk through the graveyard every night when I come home.”

  “But that’s the best part about your place,” Tori exclaimed.

  Summer rolled her eyes as she picked up her leftover wrappers, napkin and paper bag and then they started back towards the clinic.

  Chapter 3

  With the days stretching longer as the summer solstice approached, Summer found she had more daylight to play with and took full advantage to start in on her obligation to Ms. Midnight.

  Summer pulled the better part of the weeds that had t
aken over the garden strangling the herbs and flowers. Given her affinity for all things herbal, she was able to discern the weeds from the plants, and with the omission of the dense tentacles of wayward creepers and stems, a pattern started to emerge beneath the chaos of plants. A pathway of crushed slate in blue-gray lay under a crushed gray-white granite path in some places and over in others, like two ribbons forming a Celtic knot, defining specific areas of the garden. A square within a circle joined together by the interlacing, never-ending ribbon of pathways to form four marquis shapes that pointed to the four points of a compass.

  The garden measured fifteen feet by fifteen feet (roughly) and approximately twenty-one feet diagonally. Summer drew out the pattern on a piece of paper, trying to keep it to half-inch scale equaling one foot so it fit nicely on a regular sheet of graph paper.

  The plants she found under the weeds she carefully examined, clipping any existing dried flowers and depositing them into handmade transparent vellum envelopes with a sticky note. She also tied a different colored piece of ribbon or yarn to the plant she took the sample from and put a small piece of it in the envelope. On a sticky note she wrote any distinguishing characteristics of the plant or what she thought it might be. After one week she had so many notes, envelopes, and sticky notes, she had to buy a binder to hold it all.

  This became a nightly ritual—coming home from work, working in the garden and then sitting in an old beat-up lounge chair she found in the potting shed, researching and making tons of notes from botanical books she borrowed from the library, the gardening magazines that littered Paws and Whiskers’s lobby and bookmarking sites on the internet. Once she discovered what plants she had, she’d note them in her binder. To Summer it was relaxing—like putting a jigsaw puzzle together and deciphering some kind of mystery.

  However, with relaxing came the disturbing—peering out the second-story window of the deteriorating old mansion—old Ms. Midnight. She’d leer at Summer and watch every move she made in the garden. Her short silver hair glowing in the orange light of the evening made her look much like a jack-o-lantern. A raised eyebrow over one bugged eye and her other squinty eye made her look perpetually displeased. It didn’t help that her arms were always crossed under a shawl or wrap and her thin lips were incessantly two taut lines of unhappiness.

  The first couple of nights it bothered Summer to have the unhappy looking Ms. Midnight overseeing everything she did. She tried to wave hello to her, even waved her down inviting her outside to talk with her, but the woman’s vexation was steadfast. She seldom even moved; only her facial expression changed from disgruntlement to annoyance, then back again.

  Summer wondered if Ms. Midnight might be related to the Reverend Mother at the orphanage—they had a similar kinship for disapproving faces—Summer laughed as she thought of the likeness of the two women.

  Summer learned to ignore the “evil eye” of Ms. Midnight and, to some extent, took comfort in the diligent scrutiny of her progress as a type of enjoyment for the old woman. Summer would wave hello and goodbye every night to the stoic woman and in a strange way, she felt a little closer to Ms. Midnight even though they’d never spoken. It was nice to know she was always there—like a guardian angel, or maybe in her case, a guardian gargoyle. She wasn’t sure Ms. Midnight would do anything to save her if something went awry, but being an orphan, for Summer it was kind of nice.

  *****

  Saturday morning came and Dr. Stuart, keeping good on his word, closed down the office and had all the employees and a couple of the nuns come to help paint. He had Tori help him pick out the paint, ignoring some of her suggestions of black and purple for the inside of the tiny cottage.

  He took the liberty of doing a drive by to note the exterior color of the cottage so he could get paint for the outside too. He was glad Summer’s cottage wasn’t as bad as the small house on the wooded lot next to door. It was hidden by brush and trees, but what he could see wouldn’t benefit much from paint.

  Armed with paint, tape, brushes, plastic, tarps, donuts, coffee and anyone he could con into helping, he and his crew arrived at 10:00 a.m.

  Like everything, Dr. Stuart made painting fun. Summer was so grateful she found him and had the opportunity to work with him. His skills as a veterinarian were impeccable, but it was his manner, his ease with speaking to anyone, and his natural kindness that made him the special man Summer knew he was.

  Animals sensed this gentle kindness too. Summer had never seen an animal dislike Dr. Stuart. Summer sometimes wondered if he had some kind of superhero power to engage with animals’ inner thoughts. Despite what an owner might say, he’d let the pet tell him what ailed it. He’d ask the owners questions that didn’t seem to pertain to anything in particular all the while mumbling things to the animal, and yet he’d hit the nail right on the head at diagnosing the problem every time. Summer hoped she, one day, could be this attuned to her animal patients.

  But Dr. Stuart wasn’t good only with animals and their owners; he was good with people in general. Summer knew this was a gift she could only hope to find and utilize someday. She wasn’t exactly considered outgoing—friendly, yes, maybe even well-liked, but a little afraid of the big world beyond her perimeter of friends and acquaintances. Tori, on the other hand, was far more adventurous and she admired this fierce courage that Tori had for life.

  Summer watched as Tori and her very pale boyfriend Nick painted alongside one another. Nick was very handsome, as all Tori’s boyfriends were. He had a few more piercings and tattoos than Summer personally liked, but something in his eyes told Summer he adored Tori.

  They both laughed and joked with Dr. Stuart, Sister Margaret, Paul Barnes (the grocery mart bagger who used to be a delivery guy for the office), Katie Petersen (the nurse aid), Juanita Holmes (friend of Katie’s), John Thomas (the Whiskers and Paws website guy and part-time janitor) and the present delivery guy, Tommy Sinclair.

  *****

  Summer asked Sister Margaret why Sister Mary Louise hadn’t come to the painting party.

  “Well, my dear, I’m not sure. The Reverend Mother has been tight lipped as to her whereabouts, but I haven’t personally seen Sister Mary Louise since graduation night.”

  “Really?”

  “To my knowledge, no one has seen her.”

  “Isn’t the Reverend Mother worried?”

  “I’m not sure. She won’t speak of it. She seems to be rather miffed about the whole subject, so the rest of the sisters have said little or nothing.”

  “Do you think the Reverend Mother knows where Sister Mary Louise is?”

  “Oh, the Reverend Mother knows all and the rest is ‘in God’s hands,’” Sister Margaret said and Summer echoed the last part in stereo with the sister, then they both had a little giggle.

  “Well, if you do find out what’s happened, will you let me know? Or if you see Sister Mary Louise, will you tell her to contact me?”

  “Of course I will, dear. Of course I will,” the sister insisted.

  “Thank you, Sister. Sister Mary Louise means an awful lot to me,” Summer said.

  “I know, dear, and you mean a lot to her. You were her special little one. The Reverend Mother, I can tell you, gave Sister Mary Louise a lot of discord regarding her penchant for you, but Sister Mary Louise would take her penance and go right back to her pampering. I never really saw the big issue; it wasn’t as if Sister Mary Louise did anything for you she wouldn’t do for any of the other girls, she enjoyed spending time with you. We’ve all had our favorites from time to time, despite the Reverend Mother’s advisements.

  “Don’t you worry yourself about Sister Mary Louise. She’s a smart one. Whatever she’s up to or wherever she is, she’ll be okay and if she will contact anyone, I would guess she would contact you. But if I hear anything, I will let you know,” the sister reassured her.

  “Thank you, Sister, and thank you for coming and helping. What did the Reverend Mother say when you told her you were helping me paint?”

>   “She didn’t say a word…after all, I told her I was helping the needy today—doing God’s work.”

  “Sister…?”

  “Well, I didn’t lie and as far as God is concerned, I am doing his work, and He agrees with me,” she laughed and Summer laughed with her.

  By one o’clock, the inside was pretty much done except for some touch up once the masking tape was taken down. After a truckload of pizzas and sodas were delivered, the crew turned their attention to the outside. Summer offered sunscreen to everyone. Somehow Nick claimed all the shady painting areas, like the porch and the northern side of the house. The rest painted whatever they could get to.

  *****

  Around six or seven, most everyone had said their goodbyes; only Dr. Stuart, Nick and Tori stayed to take down the masking tape inside, touch up the paint and move the furniture back into place. The little house looked a billion times better both inside and out. The problem now was the mansion looked that much more dilapidated. Nick and Tori headed out since they wanted to get showers in before their date. Dr. Stuart spotted Summer’s garden binder and after explaining what she had been doing, she took him out to tour her latest undertaking.

  He saw the excitement in her eyes as she explained how she’d found the ribbon of intertwined paths and how she hoped she could rehabilitate the neglected garden back to a thriving beauty she was sure it had once been.

  He was intrigued by her diligence and forethought. After listening to how she was going about defining what the plants were, he said, “You do realize what this is, don’t you?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “The garden—it’s a medicinal herbal garden,” he said.