Tea With Mrs Saunders

by Kit Duncan



  TEA WITH MRS SAUNDERS

  by

  Kit Duncan

  ~~~

  Wingsong Publishing House

  Nashville TN

  Copyright © 2007 by Kit Duncan

  All rights reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part by any means without express permission from its author.

  For additional information:

  Kit Duncan

  kitduncan56@yahoo.com

  Other Books by Kit Duncan

  Corban

  Dandelions in Paradise

  Dear Aunt Myrna

  A Dance of Empowerment

  Life's Road Trip

  To

  Mom and Pop

  Who are my home,

  no matter how far I travel!

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 1

  These things happened many, many years ago, long before you were born, and when I was a little younger than you are today.

  I had lost my way again, as happens to many of us from time to time. Taking long walks through undiscovered places was my passion. Getting too close to what is unfamiliar, however, does sometimes get one lost.

  I don't mind being lost for a little while. It gives me an opportunity to explore, and exploring is one of the great blessings of being alive. An unexplored life is dull, uninteresting, and not much fun.

  On the other hand, one does like to get back home again from time to time.

  I had not been to this part of the woods before. I had been thinking about Very Important Things, things which now I cannot remember. The more I thought the less attention I paid to where I was going, and finally it came to me that I no longer knew where I was going.

  The trees about me had become thicker, and only a tint of sunlight was filtering down. But, as is common when losing one's way, I had lost track of time, and I had no way of knowing what part of the day it was. I did not know if it was morning or afternoon, but I was pretty certain it wasn't night. At least, not yet.

  I turned slowly around once, then again a little more slowly. No matter how many circles I made I was no clearer about where I had come from nor where I was going.

  I was lost and I wanted to go home.

  It was about this time that I felt just a little afraid. Oh, not the kind of afraid that makes you run waving your hands wildly overhead and screaming "Help! Help! Someone save me, PLEASE!!"

  No. It wasn't that kind of being afraid. It was a little quieter, and not so energetic.

  I thought if I turned around just one more time I might catch my bearings.

  I turned around again but no bearings got caught.

  It is not always wise to keep walking when you don't know where you're going, but sometimes it beats standing still waiting for insight raps you in the head.

  Sometimes sitting down, pouting, and crying helps you feel better, but it usually doesn't take you home very quickly.

  So, given my options to sit down and pout, keep turning around in circles, or walk some more, I decided to walk some more.

  The woods got thicker, the sun got more shadowy, and I felt a little more frightened. I wasn't quite ready to run and scream yet, but I was considering it.

  I kept walking anyway.

  And then the woods grew thinner, and the sun seemed a little brighter, and I felt a little less frightened, and I kept on walking.

  By and by I saw a small clearing ahead of me. When you're lost in the woods, you learn to appreciate small clearings.

  The fact that there was a little house in the middle of the clearing held a great attraction for me as well.

  From the back, which is how I approached the little house, it seemed more like a shed than a house, and to tell you the truth, that's what I thought it was at first. But first impressions being what they are, I soon discovered I was wrong. The little building was not only a little house, but it was, in fact, a little home.

  One cannot always tell the difference between a house and a home from the outside. Usually one has to meet the folks who live there to know for certain.

  A woman was sitting on the stoop of her front porch. She wasn't doing anything, really, just sitting. As I approached her, she stood up, her eyes twinkling a smile at me. It was as if she had been expecting me.

  Chapter 2

  After a time, we walked up to another house.

  We literally walked UP to another house.

  It was built high in an oak tree, and we had to climb about twenty rungs nailed into its side just to be able to knock on the front door. Soon after we began climbing Mrs Saunders, who was in front of me, called down over her shoulder, "Be careful! This rung's a little wobbly!"

  Wobbly rungs make me very nervous, but I kept climbing anyway.

  When we had both climbed up on the little platform in front of the door, Mrs Saunders knocked.

  "Open!" a woman's voice yelled at us. "Come in quickly, and mind you, don't let the draft follow you in!"

  Mrs Saunders opened the door and we both flew in as fast as we could and slammed the door behind us. But I think a little bit of draft followed us in.

  The room was not large, but it was big enough to hold what seemed to be hundreds of books. Some were stacked neatly on bookshelves all the way from the floor to the ceiling. Some were piled high on top of one another, and some were stacked in little piles on the floor. As far as you could see, there were books and books, and even more books.

  She was sitting with her back to us, writing furiously with a long feather pen at a large oak roll top desk. I don't think she noticed the draft, and for a little time I am not sure she even noticed us. When she did, though, she glanced over her shoulder, wrote a little faster, then put her pen down, stood up, and looked at us.

  She was much older than I was older than Mrs Saunders. She was a bit hunchbacked, and she wore a heavy gray overcoat. Her nose was beak-like, and about midway down a thin sliver a spectacles perched on it.

  "Why, Mrs Saunders!" she exclaimed. Her voice wasn't exactly jolly nor was it entirely unwelcoming. "Glad to see you again, glad indeed. And you have brought a friend with you. How delightful that you've come to visit."

  "We've come on a Very Important Matter, Ollie," Mrs Saunders said solemnly. "We must figure something out, and I know you are one for figuring, and so here we are!"

  "And so you are!" Ollie said. "Come, let's sit and talk and figure." She walked slowly, and out of politeness Mrs Saunders and I walked slowly with her. When we had finished walking we were in the middle of the room.

  There were three large wingback chairs sitting in a circle, and we each sat down. "Now, then," Ollie said after we had made ourselves comfortable. "What are we going to figure out today?"

  "She has lost herself," Mrs Saunders said, nodding in my direction. "I was hoping you might be able to help us find her."

  "Ah, yes," Ollie shook her head with a very sober shake. "Losing can be a very bad business, a very, very bad business indeed!"

  "Indeed," said Mrs Saunders and I agreed.

  "Well, then, let me see." Ollie stood up and shuffled about the room. From time to time she dug through a pile of books, selected one, opened it, thumbed through it, muttered a little something, then set the book back down. Ollie repeated this many times, and then she began studying the books on the shelves. Every now and again she would reach for one, look at it carefully, mutter some more, and return the book to its shelf. Sometimes she had to tiptoe to reach a book, and once she had to climb up on a short stepladder to reach the book she wanted.

&nbs
p; "Ah!" she finally exclaimed. "Here is just what we're looking for!" Ollie returned to her wingback, carrying the very large book under her arm. "Now, then, let us see what we have here."

  Mrs Saunders and I both leaned forward in our chairs while Ollie slowly turned the pages. "Oh, yes, just as I suspected," she finally said with great authority. She looked at Mrs Saunders and she looked at me and she looked back at her book. And then she cleared her throat.

  "According to my atlas," she announced with great clarity and diction, "you, my dear," and she looked at me, "are, in fact, not found."

  "Yes, " I agreed. "And does it say how I might get found again?"

  Ollie read her map very carefully, very thoughtfully, and then, with a quick snap, the book slammed shut, and she set it on the floor beside her feet.

  "The best way to find yourself," she said, "is to read everything you can find, to learn everything you can learn, to study hard, and if you think hard enough you might see that you can find your way right back home. And I should know," she added, "for I think all the time, and here I am, at home!"

  We thanked Ollie very much for her time, and Ollie closed her eyes and nodded, "Yes, yes, well, that is all very well, and thank you for your visit. And mind you, careful on your way down. Seventh rung from the bottom is loose."

  At the bottom of the tree Mrs Saunders and I looked at one another. "Ollie knows a thing or two about losing," she said, and I nodded.

  "Do you feel any closer to being home?" she asked me.

  I thought very hard for a few minutes. I closed my eyes and I wrinkled my forehead, and I rubbed my eyes, and I even tapped my right foot a bit.

  "I don't know," I finally said.

  "Well, then," Mrs Saunders replied. "Perhaps we can talk with someone else who might be able to help."

  And we began walking some more.

  Chapter 3

  After we had walked another little while we came to a corral shaped area in the woods. There were no trees, except the ones on the edges, just a lot of thistles and dried out bushes. The ground was mostly bare, though a few dead leaves were scattered about.

  In the middle of the yard, for that's what Mrs Saunders said it was, stood a very small shack, and I did not confuse this with a house at all. The sides were made of poles spaced unevenly apart from one another, and I imagine the wind could blow right through it without much effort. Some branches were piled up on the roof, but even before we got to the doorway (which lacked a door) I could see the pale sunlight shining through the ceiling onto the dirt floor.

  No one was home, but as Mrs Saunders and I stood looking into the shack I heard a movement from the woods. We both turned around together and saw a woman walking very slowly toward us.

  Emma was not hunchbacked like Ollie, but her shoulders were stooped, and her head hung very, very low. Her gait was so slow that I imagined if she walked any slower she'd be moving backwards. Her face was long, her chin had a few thin whiskers sprouting out, and her eyes were large and droopy. She seemed very, very blue.

  Mrs Saunders waved as her friend approached us, and in reply Emma, in a very low monotone, said, "Glad you could come over. Not that you come very often. But I don't mind. I like to be alone. Except on Sunday's and Mondays, and Fridays and Tuesdays, and sometimes on Saturdays, and every now and then on Wednesdays, too. Thursdays I like to be alone, and today is Thursday, but I don't mind. Make yourselves at home."

  And so we all three sat down in the front yard, for there was nowhere else to sit.

  "Well," said Mrs Saunders, "That is exactly why we've come to see you."

  "Oh?" Emma said.

  "Yes," and she pointed to me. "She's lost herself and she would like to find her way home, and I was wondering if you'd know anything about that."

  "Well," Emma pulled on her long, long chin, "Losing is a very bad business, a very, very bad business indeed," she said. "I've lost so many things I hardly have nothing left to lose. Not that I mind, of course. Most of what I've lost isn't worth finding again anyway."

  "What kinds of things have you lost, if you don't mind my asking?" I asked.

  "Well, it's not polite to ask, but of course, I don't mind to answer anyway." Emma yanked on one of her whiskers a little too harshly and it fell out, and she exclaimed, "Ouch!" And then she added, "Well, for one thing I've just lost another hair, and I can tell you, hair is not easy to come by. But I don't mind. Another one will grow. Or not. Doesn't matter either way." She rubbed her chin gingerly.

  "Well, let us see," Emma said looking up as if trying to remember something in her distant past. "I lost my house in a storm three years in a row, and I finally just quit building it back up. I didn't cared for the house anyway. One time I lost my sewing needle in a pile of hay, but I didn't like to sew much anyway. And there are those around about who tell me that from time to time I have lost my mind, but I don't mind them."

  "So you see," Emma concluded with some measure of pride, though she wasn't smiling like you might expect from someone who was proud. "I know a thing or two about losing things."

  Mrs Saunders and I smiled sadly at her, and we all three nodded together.

  " Emma," Mrs Saunders asked after we had smiled sadly and nodded sufficiently enough. "Do you think you can help her find her way home?"

  "Well," Emma said. "Not that you would pay any attention to me. Most folks don't, you know. Not that I mind. But for myself, if I lost myself I expect I would more likely as not stay where I was until someone else came along and walked me home. Not that that would ever happen, of course, since I hardly ever go anywhere far from home. And I should know, you know, for here I am, at home. Alone, except for the two of you, and you'll be leaving soon. Not that I mind."

  Mrs Saunders and I stayed a little while longer, and then we said goodbye, and Emma said goodbye, and she walked through the doorway into her little shack. When we got to the edge of the yard, where the trees started growing again, Mrs Saunders and I turned to wave goodbye to Emma, but she was bent over and all we could see was her behind.

  Mrs Saunders said, "Emma knows a thing or two about losing."

  "Yes, she does," I agreed.

  "Do you feel any closer to being home?" she asked.

  I felt for a few minutes. I thought a little, and then I felt some more. I closed my eyes, and I crossed my arms, and I shifted from one leg to the other, and then back again.

  "I don't think so," I finally said.

  "Well, then," Mrs Saunders replied. "Perhaps we can talk with someone else who might be able to help."

  And we began walking some more.

  Chapter 4

  Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a shadow running behind a tree. I stopped, and Mrs Saunders stopped, but we saw nothing, and so we kept walking. In a little while Mrs Saunders thought she saw a shadow running, and we stopped again, and we both looked, but we saw nothing again. And so we kept walking.

  A little time later I heard giggling from behind a bush, and then I heard another giggle, but I couldn't see where the giggling was coming from. Mrs Saunders and I both turned around and around several times, but she could not tell where the giggling was coming from any better than I could.

  I wasn't afraid, though, and I told Mrs Saunders so, though my words were a little shaky as I spoke. Giggling, after all, was a happy sound, and anyone who made such a happy sound must be a fairly safe person to be around.

  I was just about ready to speak without being shaky when suddenly, without warning, a tall, lean woman leaped in front of us, waving her arms all about her, and laughing in a high pitched voice.

  "Scared you! Scared you! Scared you!" She kept laughing, and while she laughed she danced all around us, and she hooted and howled, and she was having such a wonderful time of it that Mrs Saunders and I found ourselves laughing with her.

  "Hi, Ada!" Mrs Saunders said when we had all laughed hard enough and loud enough, and were nearly out of breath for all our laughing.

  "Do you live around here, Ada?
" I asked.

  "Why," she said, "of course, I live here. I am living, and I am here, and so I must live here!" And she jumped up and down and bounced around a little, and while she bounced she laughed some more.

  Mrs Saunders giggled a little as she and I sat down on a log, and she said to me, "Ada may know something about how to help you find yourself."

  "Find yourself?" Ada quit bouncing and sat next to us. "Find yourself?" she repeated. "How can you find yourself if you're already here?"

  "It's just that I'm wanting to get home," I told her, and she nodded gravely for a few seconds, then burst out laughing again.

  "So you've lost yourself?" Ada asked when she had quit laughing again. I nodded.

  "Well, now," she looked very sober for a moment. "Losing is a very bad business, a very, very bad business indeed! And I should know, for I've lost a few things in my time."

  "What sort of things?" I asked.

  "Well," she answered, "one time I lost the spring in my step, and I can tell you, I could hardly walk for a week!"

  Mrs Saunders nodded solemnly, nudged me, and added, "And a very long week that was!"

  "Oh, and what else?" Ada asked herself. "Oh! I lost a bet with Ollie once, and I lost my footing when I was climbing a tree, and broke three branches on my way down. And for a very short while some time ago I nearly lost my sense of humor!" And she roared with laughter again.

  "Ada," Mrs Saunders asked after we had laughed and nodded sufficiently enough, "do you think you can help her find her way home?"

  "Well, now," Ada said with a really big grin. "I have never lost myself but I believe that if did I would just jump up and do a little jig, and I'd dance around awhile, and I'd laugh and hoot and holler awhile and after awhile I'd be feeling okay. But you, see, I am at home wherever I am. And I ought to know, for here I am, at home!"

  Mrs Saunders and I sat with Ada for a few minutes more, and then we played tag awhile, and after that we played hide and seek. And when we had nearly played ourselves out, we waved goodbye to Ada and she to us, and we started walking again.

  I glanced over my shoulder just as we were nearly out of sight and saw Ada running after a butterfly and swatting at the air.