Awake and Dreaming

by Kit Pearson

  “I didn’t look at anyone closely. Who are you talking about?”

  Theo forgot to be careful. “The Kaldors!” she said. “John and Anna and Lisbeth and Ben! We were playing on the deck, pretending to fly. They were really nice.”

  “On the deck?” Rae leaned forward and gripped Theo’s arm. “Did you go outside after I told you to stay here?”

  “No—I—I didn’t really. Could you let go?”

  Rae relaxed her hold but she glared at Theo. “Did you go out or not? I want the truth!”

  “I didn’t,” said Theo. “I just made it up.”

  Rae leaned back in her seat. “What a weird kid you are. I can’t figure you out.”

  Theo could tell she was still mad from their argument. Rae opened up a magazine and Theo pretended to read her book again. But her mind raced.

  No, she hadn’t been out on the deck. She hadn’t met the Kaldors—they didn’t exist. There was no John or Anna or Lisbeth or Ben—or Bingo or Beardsley—or Mum and Dad. They had all been a dream.

  But what a dream! It had seemed utterly real. Theo went over every detail. She tried to freeze it all in her mind so she’d never forget. The house across the street from the cemetery, the mountain and the beach, the messy room she shared, the safety and the laughter and the love …

  SHARON PICKED THEM UP at the ferry terminal. “Theo!” she cried, wrapping her in a hug. “I haven’t seen you since you were three! I’m so glad you’re coming to live with me for a while.”

  Sharon was a large woman with an eager face. She wasn’t pretty, like Rae. They didn’t look like sisters. They didn’t act like sisters, either.

  “Hi,” said Rae, pulling on her cigarette.

  Sharon seemed afraid of her. “Good to see you again, Mary Rae,” she mumbled. “I’ve been waiting for hours,” she added timidly. “Didn’t you say you were getting the one-o’clock ferry?”

  Rae shrugged. “We missed it.”

  As they began the long drive into Victoria, Sharon asked her sister questions that Rae cut off briskly. Finally Sharon gave up and they drove in silence.

  Theo felt so numb she barely noticed where they were going. Sharon parked the car in front of a modern brown and white apartment building called Crocus Court. Clipped bushes were spaced exactly the same width apart along the front.

  “I hope you like it here, Theo,” she said. “I was really lucky to get this apartment—it was built last year. This is the neighbourhood your mum and I grew up in—James Bay. It’s so convenient, close to my office and the park and the beach.”

  She led Theo and Rae up the stairs to a small apartment. It had the same number of rooms as the one in Vancouver. But bright posters were pinned to its clean white walls and the furniture looked new.

  “You can have my room, Theo,” said Sharon. “I’ll sleep on the sofa bed.” She chuckled. “I spend most of my time there anyway—I’m a real couch potato!”

  She turned on the television while she stirred spaghetti sauce in a tiny kitchen off the living-room. Theo sat on the couch beside Rae, glad of the TV’s blare.

  “You seem to be doing all right, Sharon,” said Rae, as they ate around the kitchen table.

  Sharon looked proud. “Thanks. I guess I am. I like my job and being a civil servant is really secure. I love being in my own place after having room-mates for so many years. We’re really close to our old house, Mary Rae. Do you want to walk over there in the morning?”

  “No, I want to get an early start. Where am I going to sleep?”

  “You can have the sofa bed—I have a foamie I can use.”

  Soon after supper Theo said she was tired. She curled up in a soft bed covered in a frilly yellow bedspread. The TV droned from the living-room, mixed with the occasional comment by Rae or Sharon.

  Theo pulled the blanket right over her head. Then she escaped into her usual going-to-sleep fantasy—being in a proper family.

  But now she knew the family. She could hear their voices: Ben’s piping stories about Mortimer, Lisbeth’s shrill demands, Anna’s enthusing, John’s careful explanations. She could feel the touch of Mum and Dad’s hugs and kisses … of Bingo’s slobbery tongue and Beardsley’s rough one. She could smell John’s underarms on the many days when he forgot to use the deodorant he had just begun to need. She could smell Beardley’s litter box and Snow White’s cage and Ben’s socks and Mum’s paints.

  She could see them in glowing detail: Lisbeth’s graceful body dancing a bumble-bee, the tufts of fly-away hair on Dad’s balding head, Anna’s braces stuck with bits of food, Ben’s fingernails caked with dirt. Most of all she could see their eyes: Mum and John’s dark and serious, Dad and Anna’s a twinkling hazel, Ben’s round and blue, and Lisbeth’s like amethysts. All the eyes were gazing at Theo and all were brimming with love.

  Theo let herself weep softly under the blanket. Then she tried to sleep. Maybe, just maybe, she could have the wonderful dream again.

  BUT THEO DIDN’T DREAM at all. She opened her eyes to Sharon’s yellow walls and was pierced with such a sharp grief she could hardly get out of bed. Now she had lost the Kaldors for good.

  Sharon had taken the day off work. She tried again to persuade Rae to stay longer or at least to let her drive her to Swartz Bay, but Rae insisted on getting a bus to the ferry before breakfast. Theo stumbled into Sharon’s car in a daze.

  “Goodbye, Kitten,” said Rae in front of the depot.

  “Goodbye,” muttered Theo.

  “I’ll come and visit,” said Rae. “Maybe Cal can come, too.” She looked more and more embarrassed. “Goodbye, then,” she repeated, pulling hard on her cigarette.

  Theo didn’t see any point in saying it again. Rae reached forward to hug her; Theo went rigid, her arms pressed to her sides. Sharon hugged her sister, who stood just as stiffly. Finally they watched Rae pick up her backpack and join the crowd boarding the bus.

  Sharon sighed. “Don’t worry, Theo. I’m sure she’ll come for a visit soon.” When Theo didn’t respond, she said brightly, “Shall we go back and have breakfast?”

  “I don’t care,” said Theo.

  13

  Sharon made them pancakes. Theo ate mechanically, barely tasting the food. It was as if there were two Theos. Her real self was still in the Kaldor family; the person sitting at the table was like a puppet, lifting her fork to her mouth and nodding at Sharon’s comments.

  When they’d finished, Sharon invited her to sit beside her on the couch. She looked excited and scared. “Let’s talk about our new life together. I’m not used to children, Theo. I helped look after you when you were little, but Ma did most of the work. I was out all day at my business course. What a cute little thing you were, with those big brown eyes! You were so good. Ma heard a woman on the radio say you could read to babies. She tried it and you actually listened! You never got restless or tore the pages. When you were a toddler, you’d sit on her lap for ages staring at the pictures.”

  Something in Theo stirred. “Did she ever read Peter Rabbit?” she asked.

  “That was your favourite! Do you remember?”

  “Sort of. When did my grandmother die?”

  “When you were five. Two years after Rae took you back.” Sharon sighed. “Ma never got over that. You cried and cried and you didn’t understand why she couldn’t come with you. At first Rae phoned once a month and we could talk to you. You always sounded bewildered, though. Rae came to Ma’s funeral, but she left you in Vancouver with a friend. After that she stopped phoning. I would have come to see you, but I didn’t know where you lived. The first time I heard from Rae was when she phoned last week. She had to try three S. Caffreys before she found me!” Sharon smiled. “You can imagine how excited I was to think of seeing you again!”

  Sharon had one thing in common with Rae—she talked a lot. But she talked about Theo, not herself, so Theo had to try to pay attention.

  It was strange to hear about things you didn’t remember. All Theo had kept in her mind was hearing s
omeone read to her in a kind voice. Now she knew it was her grandmother.

  “Ma would be so glad you’re back in Victoria,” said Sharon. “Even if it’s only for a little while. I’ll try to take good care of you, Theo. It would be much easier if I didn’t have to work every day, but that can’t be helped. You’ll have to start school tomorrow. It’s not far—I can drive you there on the way downtown. I’m a secretary—I work in the Parliament Buildings. There’s an after-school day care where you can go in the afternoons. I’ve drawn up a schedule so you’ll know exactly what’s happening every day.”

  Sharon picked up a paper on the table. It was titled “Theo’s Schedule.” Theo stared at it while her aunt went over each time slot.

  7:30-8:30:

  Get up, get dressed, breakfast, brush teeth, make bed.

  8:30-8:40:

  Drive to school.

  9:00-12:00:

  School.

  12:00-1:00:

  Lunch at school.

  1:00-3:00:

  School.

  3:00-5:15:

  Day care.

  5:15-5:30:

  Drive home.

  5:30-6:00:

  Help prepare supper.

  6:00-6:30:

  Supper.

  6:30-8:00:

  Help clear up supper, help make lunch for next day, do homework, watch TV, etc.

  8:00:

  Bath, brush teeth, go to bed.

  The schedule was beautifully printed in neat lines; Sharon had obviously taken a lot of time over it. “The weekends will be more relaxed, of course,” she said. “We’ll shop for food on Saturdays. And on Sundays we’ll go to church at the Cathedral. I often bowl on Sunday afternoons—you can come with me.”

  She smiled proudly. “It’s not much different from the schedule I already follow—I like being organized. I wasn’t sure what time nine-year-olds went to bed. Is eight too early? You can stay up later than that if you’re not tired. Have you got any questions?”

  The puppet Theo shook her head. “Eight is okay.” She almost added she’d been walking to and from school and staying home alone since she was six, but she didn’t want to hurt Sharon’s feelings.

  “Good. I’ll post this on the refrigerator, so you can refer to it if you need to. Now, what would you like to do today? Shall I take you on a tour of Victoria?”

  “I don’t care,” said Theo.

  Her puppet self sat in the front seat of the car and tried to pay attention as Sharon pointed out the sights. She also talked a lot about her car. She’d saved up for it for years and explained technical things that Theo didn’t understand.

  It was a grey, misty day—winter again. Theo’s eyes felt starved after weeks of feasting on the exuberant colours of spring.

  After they’d driven slowly along Government Street and come back past Emily Carr’s house, Sharon turned onto a busy street that skirted the sea. “This is Dallas Road,” she said.

  Theo gasped. Sharon looked over with surprise. “What’s wrong?”

  “I was just … sneezing,” Theo said. She rubbed her eyes as the two Theos snapped together. Dallas Road! She’d been here!

  She peered avidly out the window. This was the street she’d walked along so often on Sunday afternoons, the route she and Anna and Grace had taken on the way downtown.

  Downtown … Theo suddenly realized that the places Sharon had just shown her—the chocolate shop and the old lamp-posts and the Empress Hotel and the Eaton Centre—were also where they had gone on that adventurous day.

  She’d been here! She knew the waves lapping on the breakwater and the glimpse of the Olympic Mountains through the clouds.

  If it had only been a dream, how could she dream about places she’d never seen?

  Unless … “Have I been here before?” she asked Sharon. “I mean, when I lived here?” Please say no, she begged silently.

  “Here? Along Dallas Road? Of course! You and Ma and I used to walk along here almost every Sunday.” She took her eyes off the road for a second. “Do you remember, Theo? That’s amazing!”

  Theo split into two again. That was it. Part of her must have remembered Victoria from when she was little and put it into her dream. She slumped back in her seat. Then it had been a dream.

  But her heart pounded again when they passed another familiar landmark—the cemetery! She peered up the Kaldors’ street to see if there was a tall old house at the top, but she couldn’t see far enough.

  “What about that cemetery?” she asked Sharon. “Did I ever go there?”

  “Wow,” said Sharon, “you do have a good memory! Yes, we often walked that far, to visit Dad’s grave. He’s buried there. He died when you were one. Ma’s there with him now.”

  Disappointment flooded Theo again. Sharon drove as far as Uplands, then came back through Oak Bay. Theo barely glanced at the shoe store where Mum had taken her and the library where they’d gone every second Saturday. She must have been in those places when she was younger too. Recognizing parts of the city just made her more homesick for the Victoria in the dream.

  THEY WENT BACK to the apartment for lunch. Then Sharon took out a piece of needlepoint and settled in front of a soap opera on the television.

  “This is a boring program for children. Have you brought any toys or games or anything to play with?” she asked.

  “A few,” said Theo, “but I’m too old for them.”

  “Well, what would you like to do?” Sharon was looking longingly at the screen.

  “I have a book,” said Theo.

  “Oh, good.”

  Theo went into her new room and looked in her bag. At the bottom were the few battered toys Rae had packed in Vancouver—and her doll. She’d forgotten all about Sabrina.

  The old doll’s rubber face smelled sour. Theo remembered Heather’s clean new smell and put Sabrina back into the bag. She pulled out the library book instead.

  It was a Mary Poppins story. Theo had loved the others but she couldn’t get into this one. The happy Banks family wasn’t her family. She put the book back in the bag too, and lay on her back trying to remember everything that had been in the room she’d shared with Anna and Lisbeth.

  SHARON CALLED HER at four. They went for a walk to Theo’s school, along pretty streets lined with small wooden houses. Down every street was a glimpse of the sea.

  The school was only six blocks away. It was called St. Bridget’s. “Your mother and I both went here,” said Sharon. “When I registered you, I asked about my old teachers, but they’ve all retired. I loved this school. The nuns were so patient with us, and I always felt so secure.”

  “Did Rae like it?” asked Theo.

  Sharon looked uncomfortable. “Mary Rae never liked any school. She was always getting into trouble and the kids were always talking about her. It was embarrassing to be her sister.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “Oh, skipping classes and cheeking the teachers and smoking in the washrooms.”

  Theo almost smiled; that sounded like Rae.

  “I’ll show you our old house now,” said Sharon. They walked a few blocks in the other direction until Sharon stopped in front of a blue cottage with forsythia blooming beside its front door.

  “It looks much nicer now than when we rented it. It was brown then. A couple owns it—they’ve done a great job of renovating it.” She gazed at the little house sadly. “What a lot happened here! You were born, and Dad and Ma both died. I remember the awful night Rae told them she was pregnant. She …” But then she looked at Theo and blushed.

  “What?” prompted Theo.

  “Nothing,” sighed Sharon. “There’s no point wishing the past was different. It’s all water under the bridge, as Ma used to say.”

  Theo stared at the house, trying to remember living here and playing in its tiny yard. It was all a blank. This house seemed much more like a dream than the Kaldors’ house.

  “SEVEN-THIRTY, time to get up!” called Sharon. Theo put on the red sweate
r and jeans Ms. Sunter had given her and sat down for breakfast.

  Sharon looked worried. “I think you should wear a skirt, Theo. The other girls will be wearing tunics. You’ll have a uniform too, but I can’t get it until Saturday.”

  Theo went back to her room. The only skirt she could find was a thin cotton one stained with ketchup down one side. It was too long and its bright orange pattern clashed with the red sweater.

  “Haven’t you got anything nicer than that?” asked Sharon.

  “This is my only skirt.”

  “Really? Mary Rae didn’t dress you very well. Oh, I’m sorry, Theo, I didn’t mean to criticize your mother. But why don’t you have more clothes?”

  “Because we were always broke,” said Theo through a mouthful of cereal.

  “Broke? But Mary Rae told me she had a good job!”

  “She’s a waitress. Before that she worked in a factory and a car wash. And sometimes we lived on welfare, especially when I was little.”

  “Welfare!” Sharon looked horrified. “But why didn’t she tell us? We could have helped her, or she could have come home and lived with us.”

  “I don’t know why,” said Theo.

  “If only she’d gone back to school. You can’t get much of a job when you only have grade ten. I thought she was doing all right, though. She said on the phone she’d send money for you every week!”

  Sharon looked dismayed. Then she sighed and put on the resigned, everything-will-be-all-right look Theo was getting used to. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it. At least I’m not broke. I don’t make much money, but I can afford to get you some decent clothes. I’ll nip out to Eaton’s at noon and pick you up a skirt you can wear for the rest of the week. And when we buy your uniform on Saturday we’ll get you some other clothes too.”

  “Thank you,” said Theo wearily. She was tired of adults fussing about her clothes.

  SHARON TOOK THEO to the school office, kissed her goodbye, and left her. Theo once again followed a principal down the hall to a classroom. Counting the dream, this was the third time this year she’d started a new school.