by S. M. Bowles
“I love all kinds of foods, especially desserts,” I flashed a huge grin at her. “I think my mother used to cook a lot. My voice started to quiver as a happy memory grazed the surface of my mind, “she used to make something called Chicken Saltimbocca that I really liked. Oh,” my eyes lit up, “and in the winter she would make all kinds of soups and stews. When she did, we would have it two nights in a row and she would always say how much better it was on the second night because the flavors had gotten married.”
Margaret gave a little chuckle, “You know, I can teach you how to cook sometime, if you would like to give it a try.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
I started to love Margaret a little bit then and I felt like I was going to love living with her and Michael. Before long she was easing our way into a parking space and exclaiming “Here we are.”
We spent the whole morning shopping. Margaret told me that Michael very much insisted that, “Elayna must not want for anything,” and she took me to at least a dozen different stores. She had me pick out casual pants and jeans, t-shirts, polo shirts, oxfords and sweaters. Margaret thought that there might be a need to dress-up from time to time as well and had me try on an array of dresses, skirts and shoes to match them all.
It took some time for me to get into the spirit of shopping. I had the notion that my wardrobe never really consisted of more than jeans, t-shirts and sneakers. Once I began to imagine myself modeling all my purchases to Michael, though, everything changed. Every garment I tried on I wondered what Michael would think of it and ultimately that lead me to the decision of whether or not to buy it. With a little coaxing, I got Margaret to try on a few things as well.
I was amazed that she never balked at any of the totals we were racking up and never disapproved of anything I ended up selecting to buy. It seemed frivolous and yet extremely gratifying to have such a license to choose what I would but I remembered myself eventually and tried to taper my enthusiasm.
By midday we were worn out with walking the length and breadth of the mall. Margaret felt that we would be better off eating at home but she didn’t object to a cappuccino and hot cocoa from the little café in the food court before we wandered back to the car with our multitudinous load.
“Thank you, Margaret. I don’t think I have ever had more fun shopping than I have had with you today.” I couldn’t wait to get home and to show Michael everything we had bought.
When we got there, though, the only sign of him was a pile of official looking papers that he had left on the kitchen island. Margaret rifled through them while I made a few trips upstairs with all my bags. I felt as if all the joy had been suddenly been sucked out of what I thought was a most satisfying day. My heart was bent on seeing Michael and I imagined myself glowing in his approvals as I tried on my various new outfits. I arranged my bags along the wall of closets and flopped down on the bed utterly disappointed.
When Margaret called me down to our late lunch I tried to compose myself and brighten my spirits. There was still no sign of Michael as I entered the kitchen. Margaret had fixed us some BLT’s and as we sat and ate she tried to strike up a conversation and did her best to keep it going. I was starting to feel a little light-headed and finding it hard to come up with appropriate responses to fill in the gaps to whatever it was we were talking about.
Margaret was right earlier when she said that I had been through a lot. It all seemed to be catching up with me as I cleared my plate. After lunch I stood up intending to collect the dishes and to bring them to the sink. I must have gotten up a little too quickly though and I briefly felt like the room was spinning. While I steadied myself I suddenly had the distinct impression from Margaret that I might not see Michael again for some reason. I shook my head to clear it, “Margaret, I’m not feeling very well. I think I need to go and lie down.”
“Are you alright, dear?”
“I guess it has just been a long morning and I am worn out with all the shopping.”
“Of course you are. Go and rest, I’ll check on you a little later.”
My legs felt like lead as I made my way to the stairs. My head was swimming with the ghosts of memories I couldn’t fully imagine. My heart was heavy and I felt desperately alone. I dragged myself to the bedroom and curled up under the covers. I didn’t remember falling asleep so it must have been sudden; the exhaustion I felt just sweeping over me in an instant. Margaret checked on me after a couple of hours and saw that I was sleeping soundly. She decided that it was best not to wake me and closed my door before slipping away.
The hours ticked by and it was well into the night before I woke again. Something was tickling my face. I wrinkled my nose and stretched myself awake. Whatever it was, it was flopping around on my bed, back and forth it bounced from the foot of the bed back to where I had pulled myself upright. I heard the closet door open and the click of the light switch within it. It was too bright for my eyes to adjust but the door closed to a crack and left just enough of a glow for me to see what it was that had woken me up.
“A puppy!!”
Michael was standing at the foot of the bed, “Not so loud, you’ll wake Margaret.” His expression was outright joy and I couldn’t help mirroring the emotion as I lunged for him and crushed him with my appreciation.
“She needs a name.”
She needs a name, I didn’t even have to think, “Michaela, her name is Michaela but we will call her Kaley,” I added feeling somehow that Margaret would not approve otherwise.
“Kaley, I like that,” he smiled knowingly. “Well, Kaley is an Irish Wolfhound. Do you know what those are?”
“A Wolfhound,” I said, “that sounds ferocious.”
“She is ferocious but not to you. In a year she will be the size of a horse,” I rolled my eyes at him, “well, a small horse; a pony, anyway. She was bred to protect kings,”
“And queens,” I interjected.
“And to hunt with them. She will put your life ahead of her own if she ever needs to.”
I didn’t like the boding tone that had crept into his voice but brushed the feeling aside.
The puppy hopped down and was sniffing about the room, inspecting its new territory.
“I see my mother has spoiled you,” he motioned to all the shopping bags arranged along the wall.
“Yes,” I felt myself blushing. “I wanted to show you but.”
“But I wasn’t here.”
“Michael?”
“Yes, Elayna?”
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” he sounded resigned and turned away.
“Michael?”
“Yes, Elayna?” He returned his gaze.
“I am having a hard time remembering things. I feel like I have forgotten just about everything, is it because of you?”
“I’m trying to help you, yes,” I felt like I had heard that expression from him before.
“Margaret asked me if I would like to stay here but you’re not going to stay with us, are you?”
“No, Elayna, I am not.”
I took his face in my hands and studied his eyes questioningly, “Can you make me forget you?” I earnestly asked.
“I don’t want you to forget me,” he shook his head from my hands.
“I don’t want to forget you either but…”
He looked away, “But you need to.”
“Yes, Michael, I don’t think I can…it hurts,” I felt a spasm of shame creeping into my voice as he turned his gaze back to mine, “I don’t like the way it feels when you’re not with me. Maybe it will be easier for me when you go away if I don’t remember you,” I was shivering.
Michael hugged me tightly to his chest. My eyes followed him as he released me and made his way around the bed. He rummaged in one of the nightstands then came back and stood directly in front of me. He had a little pocket knife that he was unfolding and after taking my hand in his he curled all but my index finger into a fist. He appeared very solemn as I l
ooked into his eyes trustingly. I drew a deep breath then he made just the slightest incision on the very tip of my finger. I could see a tiny streak of blood and as Michael gave my finger a gentle squeeze it grew into a little round bubble.
He closed his eyes and brought my finger to his lips. My heart fluttered and I sensed a subtle pull on my insides, like my soul was reaching out to him. I felt faint as he took my finger away and folded my arm to my chest.
“There,” he said, “now you will be a part of me forever.”
I smiled happily and cherished the thought away. He took the little knife again and performed the same procedure on his own fingertip. A sudden wave of fear took hold of me, knowing there was some finality lurking behind our exchange. I closed my eyes, just as he had done and took his fingertip to my lips. The sensation was so familiar, the waves of heat rippling throughout me. I indistinctly remembered when he brought me back but this time that was not what he was doing. This time he was not bringing me back but instead was chasing my memories of him, of all that happened away.
Chapter 9
I settled into my life with Margaret never really remembering how I had come to live with her. Elayna was forgotten, Michael, forgotten, my mother and father, Victor; it was as though my life began at 12 years old and I was blissfully unaware of all the tragedies and all the horrors that had taken place and gotten me to where I was.
For the first year or two that I lived with her, Margaret was overly generous to me insisting that I had been through too much and that she wanted to make my life as carefree and uncomplicated as possible. She was so kind and compassionate that it never occurred to me to question her about my mother or father or what my life may have been like before I came to live with her.
She was, as far as I knew, my only living relative. I believed that my parents had died in a car crash and that I was with them when it happened. At first I tried to mourn them but no matter how hard I struggled and strived I couldn’t seem to remember them at all. Margaret said the doctor’s thought that I may have had some head trauma and that it could have affected some of my long-term memories. I hated not knowing but sometimes I thought that not remembering was actually a huge blessing and that it was sparing me from the overwhelming grief I was sure I would have felt if I had known how much I had lost.
Eventually it began to matter less and less especially since Margaret was always there for me. We were open and honest with one another and I kept very little from her, in fact I told her just about everything.
It wasn’t until I was nearly 17 and in my junior year of high school that I did one of the first deceitful things to Margaret that I could remember. It was during my spring vacation; the Sunday before classes were scheduled to resume. I slept very late that day and after lounging in bed for a few extra minutes I opened my bedroom door and was immediately assaulted by Kaley.
“Good morning Baby,” I cooed. I reached down and patted her back and scratched her ears. Though her fur looked wiry and unkempt it was always very soft to the touch. She licked my face with her happy tongue and tried to follow me as I trudged toward my bathroom. When I got to the doorway she attempted to charge in with me but I pointed to a spot just outside the doorway.
“No, you know the rules,” I chided.
I told her to sit which she did somewhat grudgingly, then she decided better of it and plopped down on her belly. She put her head on her paws and looked up at me with a confused, yet devoted expression as I closed the door.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” I called.
She was exactly as I left her when I opened the door but Kaley bounded to attention as soon as she saw me. I smiled at her and made my way along the hall to the top of the stairs. She ran ahead of me and did a bunny-hop all the way down to the foyer. I never understood how she managed to get her massive hind legs to bounce in unison as she raced toward the front door and I shook my head as I watched her plunge down the stairs.
I slowly followed in Kaley’s wake and as I got closer to the landing I could smell bacon frying and something sweet and citrusy mingling with the scent. I rounded the stairs and strolled into the kitchen.
“Good morning Aunt Margaret.”
“Oh, good morning, Lily. I thought you’d never get up. What time is it anyway?”
I looked at the clock and saw that it was nearly 10 am, “I’m sorry I slept so late; is there anything I can help with?”
“No, I’m just about finished here.” Then she added concernedly, “How are you feeling, you’re not coming down with anything are you?”
“I feel fine,” I shrugged as Margaret pulled some orange cranberry scones from the oven.
There was fresh fruit washed and ready to eat lying just beside the cooling rack so I pulled up a stool and began plucking some grapes off one of the clusters. I popped them in my mouth one at a time and after making a little gnash in them with my teeth sucked a bit of their juice before chomping them down. Kaley was resting her head on my knee and looking thoughtfully at me while I ate. She tried to get me to toss her one of the grapes but I spoiled her far too often and Margaret was eyeing me suspiciously.
“People food can be dangerous for dogs,” she said, “has she been out yet?” Margaret turned back to the island and started putting together a nice breakfast for me.
“No, I’ll take her now, before I get too distracted by those scones,” I widened my eyes in emphasis.
I grabbed Kaley’s leash from off the kitchen table and headed toward the front door.
“Make sure you pick-up after her if she makes a mess.”
“Yes, Aunt Margaret,” I tried to check the flippant tone that crept into my voice as I wandered down the hallway.
Once we were outside Kaley became a new dog. I took her to obedience classes when she was a puppy (Margaret insisted) and Kaley proved to be uncannily easy to train. She sat on the porch and waited for me as I latched the front door. She looked back over her shoulder and when I nodded set off down the steps towards the driveway. We walked a few blocks away from the house, side by side. When she started sniffing off to the right of our path I knew it is time to stop.
She took care of business post haste and after I managed to clean-up her affairs, she turned and we made our way back home. I hated that she always looked proud afterward, like she had given me some great gift or reward but I loved her unequivocally and was sure she felt the same.
I held up my trophy for Margaret as we got back to the kitchen. “Not the inside trash, Lily, put it in the barrel in the garage.”
“Ugh!! I just want to eat,” I moaned as shuffled through the mudroom and into the garage.
When I finally got back to my breakfast I found that it was thankfully still warm. I crunched a piece of bacon and started in on one of the scones. It was absolutely delicious. Margaret didn’t make them often but when she did they were impossible to resist. She would scrape fresh zest from some oranges and use whole cranberries; those were frozen but if you bit into one after they were baked it would flood your mouth with its sharp tartness. Margaret also made it a point to put a generous drizzle of buttercream icing on them while they were still hot so it oozed all over the top and sides of the scones giving them the perfect balance of sweet and tangy.
“Mmm,” I sighed as I took my first bite.
“Well, it’s Sunday, Lily, back to school tomorrow.”
“Gee, thanks for reminding me,” I hung my head over my breakfast.
“Do you have any plans for the day?” She asked me.
Kaley was back at my knee, I slipped her a little bacon and told her to sit. I took up my breakfast again and she stretched out at the foot of my stool. I absently stroked her side with the tip of my toe while I ate.
“No, I think I’ll just be a homebody today.”
I finished up my breakfast and started gathering the dirty dishes to stack in the dishwasher.
“I can get those.”
“No, no, you cooked, I’ll clean.”
As I cont
inued to clear away the dirty dishes Margaret packed the remaining scones into an airtight container. She put them in the freezer and left me to finish loading the dishwasher. Since it was Sunday, I knew she was going upstairs to collect the laundry from all the hampers. She would also gather the linens from each of our bedrooms and replace them with fresh sets.
She had routines for almost every day of the week and was very systematic in her approach to almost everything. She said that she liked to keep busy; that it kept her mind sharp and gave her something to fill up what would otherwise be empty days.
Once I started the dishwasher I went upstairs to help her get the laundry together. Kaley trotted along ever at my heels and followed me to my bedroom. My sheets were already piled outside the door and Kaley decided that they made a nice nest. After chasing her tail once or twice she plopped down in the middle of them.
“Hmm, so that’s the way it’s going to be,” I said affectionately. I let her be for the moment and headed for the last door of my closet where my hamper was. I dumped it onto the floor and sorted through the various garments the way Margaret had taught me. I was shocked at how many outfits I went through in just one week.
“You must change a hundred times a day,” Margaret was shaking her head and smiling at me from the doorway, “how do you manage to accumulate such a mass of dirty laundry?”
I grinned sheepishly and gathered the first of my piles. Margaret had several baskets lined along the wall outside my door. One was for the linens and the others for each of the different heaps I had just separated. When I was done loading the baskets I picked the one that looked the lightest and handed it to Margaret. I took a second basket and ran it down to the laundry room. I passed Margaret on the stairs as I went back up for the third and fourth baskets.
“I’ll get the rest,” I said. I wanted to give her a respite from running up and down the stairs and knew that she would just busy herself with putting the first cycle in the washer.
I always felt guilty when Margaret was doing housework and though I wasn’t overly messy I decided that I should spend a couple of minutes tidying up my room. I tucked a few things away, dusted and made my bed with the fresh sheets Margaret had left for me. While I was sorting my laundry earlier I noticed a few bits of Kaley’s fur drifting about my room so once everything else was nice and neat I got the vacuum and began gliding it back and forth, back and forth over the carpet to pick up her little tumbleweeds.
