by Kit Pearson
“What kind of games do you like to play?” asked Juliet, after the usual questions about cooking and housework.
“Games? Well, I like cards and checkers,” said Miss White timidly.
“I don’t mean those kind of games,” said Juliet scornfully. “I mean things like cowboys and war and pirates.”
“Those aren’t nice things for little girls to play,” said Miss White a little more firmly. “How about dolls? I could help you dress them.”
“I hate dolls! Do you know what I did with my Betsey Wetsey? I cut off her head and—”
“That’s enough, Juliet,” said Fa. “We’ll let you know, Miss White.” He ushered her hastily out the door.
The second woman was quite nice, but Orly asked why she smelled funny and she left in a huff.
The third one was called Mrs. Morrissey. She was strong-looking and quiet. Mrs. Morrissey bravely told the twins she would help them trap a squirrel. She listened patiently while Harry told her about his rocket.
“This is a very large house to clean,” said Fa. “Do you think you could manage it as well as the cooking, and help with looking after the twins?”
Mrs. Morrissey looked around the cluttered, dirty living room with longing, as if she could hardly wait to get at it. “I’m very good at cleaning,” she told them. “I could manage it easily.”
“I liked her,” said Roz after she’d left. “She said she could teach me how to sew.”
“She sounds like a good cook,” said Harry.
The twins said they liked her too.
“What about you, Corrie?” asked Fa. “You didn’t ask Mrs. Morrissey anything. Do you think we should hire her? She had an excellent recommendation from her last family.”
Corrie shrugged. “She’s fine.” She tried to smile. “And she seems like the nicest one we’ve had so far.”
“Sebastian? What do you think?” Sebastian had been as silent in the interviews as Corrie.
“I think she’ll do very well,” he said, sounding like someone in a book.
Fa looked relieved. “I’ll offer her the position, then, and tell her she can start next week.”
CORRIE TOOK AN APPLE from the kitchen and climbed Sentry. She had meant what she said. Mrs. Morrissey was nice. Everyone else seemed to really like her. But she was still just a housekeeper, not part of the family. She wouldn’t be there in the evenings; she wouldn’t sit with them at dinner or watch TV with them in the den. She wasn’t Aunt Madge.
Corrie pitched her apple core to the ground. She gazed at Sebastian’s window and saw the back of his head bent over something. All of this was his fault.
“We don’t want to upset Sebastian in any way.” She could hear Fa’s words but she didn’t care. She almost fell out of the tree, she climbed down so fast. She ran up the two flights of stairs and burst into Sebastian’s room, panting and hot.
Sebastian spun around from his desk. “Corrie! What’s wrong?”
“Everything is wrong!” said Corrie. “Especially you!”
She marched up to him and shook him. “Why did you tell Fa that Aunt Madge can’t come back? Don’t you see how much we need her? She wants to come! You’re the only person who’s stopping her!”
Her words shot out like arrows from Robin Hood’s bow. She couldn’t stop them. “Why don’t you talk to me any more? Why do you hide away from us all? What’s the matter with you, Sebastian? Why have you changed so much?”
Corrie was breathing so heavily she had to sit down on the bed. Her cheeks burned and she hid her face in her hands to cool them.
Sebastian sat down beside her. “Corrie …” She looked up at him. “Corrie, listen. I’ll try to explain.”
As he talked, her heart lifted. Sebastian sounded like Sebastian. His voice was so low she had to strain to hear, but it was his old voice, impassioned and strong.
“When Fa asked me if I wanted Aunt Madge to come back I just couldn’t let her. I was so awful to her! I was unfriendly and mean, two years ago and at Christmas. I … I don’t like to think of myself like that. It’s not how—”
“It’s not how a knight behaves,” whispered Corrie.
He nodded sadly. “Right. It’s not how a knight behaves or how anyone should behave. If Aunt Madge was here I’d feel ashamed every time I looked at her. And she would be embarrassed. She’s a good person. I just never saw that because … because she was taking Mum’s place. She tried so hard to be like a mother to us. The rest of you liked that, but I couldn’t stand it!”
Corrie had been keeping herself very still, afraid he might stop. Now, though, she had to interrupt. “But, Sebastian, why can’t you just apologize? Aunt Madge would forgive you, I know. She knows you weren’t yourself because of Mum’s death. All you have to do is say you’re sorry, and then she’d come!”
“You’re absolutely right, Corrie. But I just can’t bring myself to say it. Then I’d be admitting that I wasn’t—”
“That you weren’t perfect,” said Corrie. A perfect gentle knight. “No one is perfect!” she told him.
“That’s what Dr. Samuel keeps reminding me,” said Sebastian ruefully.
Corrie had one more arrow to release. “Sebastian, aren’t you thinking more about yourself than you are about us?”
The arrow hit its mark. Sebastian flushed and lowered his head. Corrie almost held her breath, afraid to say more.
She looked around the room. All the drawings of knights and castles were gone. In their place were other pictures, of birds. Beautiful drawings and watercolours. Eagles and wrens and herons and owls, all portrayed in meticulous detail.
Could Sebastian have done these? They were much better than the birds of prey he had drawn earlier; they were as good as pictures in a book.
Sebastian stood up. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Corrie walked around the room and looked at the pictures again. They were Sebastian’s! A few unfinished ones were on his desk, surrounded by bird books and pencils and paints. So this was what he’d been doing in here for the last few weeks!
Corrie curled up on the bed and closed her eyes. She almost fell asleep. It seemed hours until the door opened again.
“Wake up!” said her brother. He stood in the doorway. “I did it.”
Corrie sat up groggily. “Did what?”
“I phoned her. I phoned Aunt Madge and asked her to come back. I told her I was sorry for being so nasty to her. She cried so much she could hardly speak. She and Fa are talking now, and it sounds as if she’ll be coming as soon as she can.”
“Oh, Sebastian …” She stared at him with shining eyes. “I’m so glad you phoned her! That was so brave of you. That was as brave as Sir Lancelot!”
She shouldn’t have said that!
But Sebastian smiled. “It felt as brave as Sir Lancelot, even though I’m not Sir Lancelot any more. Listen, Corrie, I want to apologize to you, too. I know I’ve been ignoring you. That’s because you were my fellow knight and I was afraid to bring all that stuff up again.”
“I’m not a knight any more,” Corrie told him. “None of us are. The Round Table is over. I cleaned out Camelot and packed all the knight stuff into a box.”
“That’s just as well, although there’s no reason the rest of you can’t play the game. You’re still young enough for it. Not like me.”
“Did you really think you were the reincarnation of Sir Lancelot?” Corrie asked him.
“I really did for a while. Somehow I got off track. I just couldn’t face Mum’s death, and then losing Jennifer. It was all too painful.” He swallowed hard. “Thanks, Corrie. If you and Fa hadn’t rescued me I don’t know what would have happened.”
“You don’t have to talk about it,” said Corrie quickly.
“Well, I’ve certainly talked about it a lot with Dr. Samuel! I still do.” Sebastian’s eyes were clear and glowing. “I have so much to thank you for, Corrie. You’ve been so loyal all through this. And now look what you’ve done! You got me to apologize, whi
ch I just couldn’t seem to do on my own. You’re still my brave and loyal Gareth.”
Corrie stood up and Sebastian engulfed her in a hug, pressing so hard that it hurt. She had never heard of knights hugging each other, but they were no longer knights of the Round Table. They were only a brother and sister who loved each other, and yet that was just as magic.
20
Molly
In November, the show of Mum’s paintings opened. It was called “Molly Bell: A Retrospective.” Fa had let each of them choose one painting to keep. Corrie picked the one she used to call Horses in the Rain. Fa chose three. He had moved back into his and Mum’s bedroom, and his paintings hung in there. The rest of them were scattered over the house, like jewels against the dark wood panelling.
Now Corrie stood proudly in the crowd at the opening night. The paintings were a rainbow of colours around the room. Each had a little tag below it with its title and cost. Some of the tags already had red dots on them, to show that those paintings had been sold.
Fa had let them choose the titles for the paintings that didn’t have them. They had spent many evenings coming up with Dancy Trees (Juliet), Happy (Orly), An Explosion of Fire (Harry), and In the Garden (Aunt Madge). Roz had chosen Let’s Dance! for one, and Sebastian had decided that a dark painting with bright swirly lines in one corner should be called The Coming of Light.
Many people were studying the paintings. Others were talking loudly and helping themselves to wine or cookies or pop.
Corrie tried not to rub her legs together. Tonight she was wearing nylons for the first time. Roz had helped her fasten each one to a garter belt. The clips on the belt dug uncomfortably into her thighs, and her legs felt trapped in the tight sheer fabric. But her black pumps looked elegant without socks.
Corrie’s new blue twin-set matched her kilt, and her ponytail was tied with a matching blue ribbon. The rest of the family looked just as presentable. Fa was in the first new suit he had bought in six years, Sebastian was wearing a striped tie of Fa’s, the twins and Harry were neat and clean, and Roz outshone them all in her pink chemise and fresh perm. Even Aunt Madge had a new dress instead of her usual stained one.
“Corrie, you’re wearing nylons!” Meredith rushed up with her parents. “Mum, please can I get some?”
“Maybe for Christmas, darling,” said Mrs. Cooper. “Corrie, your mother’s paintings are amazing! We’re going to buy one for our living room, the one called Glow.”
“You are?” Then she could still see it! “I named that one,” she said proudly.
Aunt Madge approached them, a twin dangling from each hand. “Now don’t eat too much, Orly,” she warned as he stuffed a cookie into his mouth with his free hand. “You’ve already had three. Isn’t this delightful, Corrie? Dear Molly would be so pleased. Hello, Dot. How are you?”
She and Mrs. Cooper began to chat. Mr. Cooper took Meredith to meet someone, and Corrie went to get a drink. She sat on a chair and watched Fa across the room, surrounded by old friends of his and Mum’s. Some of them hadn’t seen him since she died, she heard them tell him. All around her people kept saying, “Molly would be so happy.”
What if Mum could really be here? She would be thrilled and proud to see her paintings on display and to know how many were going to live in other people’s homes, as if a bit of her were going there too. Most of all, she would ask how her family was.
We’re all fine, Mum, thought Corrie. Aunt Madge had settled in so quickly, it was as if she’d never left. Fa had hired Mrs. Morrissey to clean the house, so Aunt Madge could concentrate on cooking and the twins. Corrie could go to her with her worries about how hard math was in junior high, or how she didn’t want to go to the sock hops that happened every Friday. “It’s all right, Corrie dear. You’ll go when you’re ready to. Don’t you worry about what everyone else is doing,” Aunt Madge had told her.
The twins treated Aunt Madge as if she were their real mother, going to her first with their needs instead of to the others. At first this bothered Corrie, but then she realized they had no memory of Mum. They were still “handfuls,” as Aunt Madge called them, but with both Fa’s and Aunt Madge’s attention they were behaving much better at school.
Harry and his friend Peter had finished their rocket and were building a satellite in Peter’s back yard. Harry smiled more now; he even let Aunt Madge tuck him into bed. That fall he’d asked Orly to help him take off the wheels from some old roller skates and screw them to a thick board. The two of them spent hours riding the board down the driveway, sparks flying beneath it. “My brother Harry and me have made a new invention!” Orly told everyone.
Roz was as busily involved with school as ever. She was the best baton thrower in grade nine. Corrie couldn’t believe she was interested in something so silly. Being popular Roz’s sister, however, gave her an edge at Laburnum. Older girls were kind to her and helped her find her way around.
Junior high was still scary, but it grew less so every week. At least Meredith was in her homeroom. Having different teachers for each subject was confusing, and Corrie had more homework than she’d ever had in her life. She missed Mr. Zelmach’s easygoing teaching style; all her teachers at Laburnum were very strict, as if they were afraid that chaos would erupt if they weren’t.
The best part of school so far had been a new fad. In October, the Hula-Hoop craze had hit Vancouver, and the schoolyard was a mass of whirling, coloured hoops. Corrie had asked Fa to buy her a yellow one. Meredith’s was green. She could twirl more than a hundred times; Corrie had managed only forty-six so far. “That’s because I have hips and you don’t!” claimed Meredith.
Every hook in the cloakrooms was festooned with a colourful circle. Sometimes they fell down, and there were intense arguments about which was whose. Corrie and Meredith scratched their names in the plastic to make sure theirs weren’t mixed up. Even the grade nines had them. Hula-Hoops made junior high more like elementary school, as if they could all be kids a little longer.
If Mum were here, she would be proudest of Sebastian. Corrie watched him listening intently to one of Mum’s friends. They were probably talking about art. Sebastian was taking art at school and art lessons after school. Now he drew and painted outside his room, sketching trees and the house and even the family. No one could believe how good he was. “You’ve inherited Molly’s talent, my boy,” said Fa.
Sebastian still had to go to see Dr. Samuel, but now he went only once a month. He was attending the high school near the university instead of the one Jennifer and Terry went to. He took the bus every morning and came home with Fa in the late afternoons. He told Corrie that he liked his new school. He hadn’t made any friends there yet, but at least it was a fresh start. No one knew him from before. No one knew that he used to have long hair or that he’d been bullied.
Occasionally Sebastian’s eyes would go flat again and he’d drift away from the family. Most of the time, though, he was his old self, but a more relaxed version He seemed relieved to let Fa and Aunt Madge run the family. After a few awkward and silent days with Aunt Madge, he began cautiously talking to her again. Aunt Madge was careful not to intrude on his privacy, but he didn’t seem to mind when she handed him his ironed shirts or reminded him to set the table.
“Are you having a good time, Corrie?” Sebastian slipped into the chair beside her. Her brother was so handsome in his grey suit, which matched his eyes. His hair was longer in front now, not as severely short as it had been in the summer. He looked so grown up.
“I’m having a wonderful time! Are you?”
He nodded. “I feel as if Mum is really here, don’t you? She’s here in her paintings, which means she’ll never really die.” He took her hand. “This is a very special night, Gareth.”
Corrie was startled, but only for a second. Sebastian was just joking. The Round Table was over forever, but Corrie smiled at her perfect gentle knight.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For their good memories, advice, and encouragement,
many thanks to Deirdre and Donna Baker, Chris Ellis, Sarah Ellis, Jamie Evrard, Ann Farris, Barbara Greeniaus, Ron Pearson, Bill Porteous, Judi Saltman, Ellen Visser, my editor David Kilgour, and especially Katherine Farris.
