There was a definite uptick in the noise level and a flurry of activity as greetings were exchanged and as coats and hats and gloves and boots were removed. Boots’s serenity was disturbed, and she raced through the legs of the laughing women and bounded up the stairs to hide in Annie’s bedroom.
Annie led the way up the stairs to the open attic door. When everyone had made it to the second floor hallway, Annie explained that she had left the door open and the lights on to make their search a little more comfortable. “I don’t think it should be too awfully cold,” she said.
“You forget that we’re all tough Mainers, Annie,” said Peggy. “We embrace the cold.”
“Speak for yourself, Peggy,” said Kate with a laugh. “The cold goes right through me if I’m not dressed for it. I’ve got on my wool long underwear.”
“Good grief, Mom,” said Vanessa, exasperated at Kate’s lack of decorum. “It’s not that cold.”
“So says the teenage girl with twice the rate of my body metabolism,” said Kate with a chuckle.
“I don’t think anyone’s going to freeze to death in an attic,” said Gwen pragmatically. She reached into the pocket of her knitted sweater and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “OK. I’ve got Professor Howell’s property list. I penciled in a couple of items that I noticed when I read the play yesterday. Does anyone else have anything to add before we go on up?”
It turned out that Annie was the only other one who had read the play so far, and she had been too absorbed in the story to pay attention to the props.
“How are we going to do this?” asked Alice. “Shall we just start rummaging? Or should we have a plan—divide and conquer?”
“Why don’t we let our resident fashion mavens look through the trunks for suitable clothing or fabric? I’m referring to Kate, Vanessa, and Peggy, of course,” said Annie.
“Do you know what you’re looking for yet?” asked Gwen.
“Sort of,” answered Kate. “Vanessa and I went to the library after she got out of school yesterday to see what we could find about costuming for theater productions and about clothing in the Middle Ages. I found a few books and started looking through them for ideas last evening. I also scanned through the play just to read the descriptions that Jacob put in for each character and made some notes that I brought along.” She patted a blue folder she was holding in the crook of her arm. “Vanessa found some good websites and printed out a few drawings and photographs too.” Looking at Peggy, she said, “I think between the three of us, we can make a good start. One thing I did learn from my reading last night was that for the theater, it’s all about how it looks in the lights, not about how authentic it is to the time period, at least in terms of the kinds of materials we use. Wrinkles show up like crazy, so we have to be sure to avoid materials that hold creases.”
“Maybe while you and Vanessa get started, I can just scan through your folder so I know what kinds of things to look for,” said Peggy.
“And while you guys look for costumes, perhaps the rest of us could carry the area rugs downstairs, and then we can determine their conditions and see if any of them will work,” said Annie.
Gwen looked at the paper in her hand. “It just says ‘large patterned area rug’ on the list. I wish he would have been more specific about the size. I’ve never been on the stage at the theater—Peggy, do you have any idea how large it is?”
“Not really,” answered Peggy. “I’ve only watched the girls practice their dance routines from the seats with all the other mothers.”
“I think it’s larger than you imagine when you are sitting in the audience,” said Alice. “As I recall, there are a couple of really long carpet rolls up there. Let’s get those first and take them downstairs so we can roll them out and have a look. Then we can go on from there.”
It was agreed, and the group sprang into action. Though the steps up into the attic were narrow and somewhat steep, the attic itself was huge, and it was full of items of every imaginable type that Annie’s grandmother had saved. The attic room ran the length and width of the house, partitioned only by occasional columns that supported load-bearing beams. Each gable end contained an eyebrow window, and though they looked small from the outside of the house, they were actually very large, and in the daytime, they let in a good amount of light.
When Annie first returned to Grey Gables, the only artificial light in the attic was a solitary, bare lightbulb in the center of the room, which had to be turned on and off by a pull string. Since then, Annie had had Wally install track lighting down the underside of the ridge of the roof, and she was grateful for all the illumination it provided now. Even so, it was still sometimes a little spooky in the attic. Annie didn’t feel cold at that moment, but for some reason, she felt a shiver run through her as she knelt to pick up the end of one of the area rugs.
“These two carpet rolls look like they might be about ten feet long,” said Alice. “Maybe they’re ten by twelves. I hope at least one of them is in good enough condition.”
Mary Beth had taken the other end of the rug that Annie had picked up, and Alice and Gwen grabbed the ends of the other long roll of carpet. They all moved carefully, single file—since that was really the only way to do it—first down the narrow flight of attic stairs, and then down the main staircase and into the center hallway.
After she had set down the end of her carpet roll, Gwen rubbed her hands over her biceps. “Who would think that a roll of carpet would be so heavy? I’m going to have to start lifting weights or something.”
“Me too,” Alice agreed, shaking out her arms to loosen her strained muscles. “Why don’t Gwen and I take our rug into the kitchen to roll out, and you guys can take yours into the living room. Then we can compare and see which one looks the best.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” said Annie.
Annie and Mary Beth knelt down again to pick up the rug, and again, Annie felt a shiver run up her spine as she touched her end of the carpet. Must be someone walking over my grave, she thought to herself. That was one of the expressions her grandmother had often used. Gram was fond of those old folk sayings, and the fact that it had just popped into Annie’s mind made her smile. Now she was the grandmother. What did her twin grandchildren think when she used one of those old sayings? Probably the same thing she had when she was little.
She and Mary Beth had laid down the carpet roll in the living room, and Mary Beth stood silent, staring at the carpet, but not really seeing it. She had said very little since she arrived at Grey Gables, and Annie walked over and put her arm around Mary Beth’s shoulders. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” said Mary Beth, a little startled. “I’m OK. I’ve just been thinking a lot. You know, trying to make sure I have everything in order, in case—” She stopped speaking, but Annie understood what she was talking about immediately.
“Mary Beth, I’m not saying it’s not a good idea to ‘have everything in order,’ but don’t let it stop you from living in the present. None of us knows our fate. You or I could live another fifty years, or we could die tomorrow. You know as well as I do that there are no guarantees. Please try to put those thoughts in their proper place. Call and make an appointment with your lawyer, if you need to—or whatever else you think you should do—but then let it go. I’m grateful that Wayne had been diligent about keeping our finances in order so that I would be well taken care of in the event of his death, or that he would be all right if I had gone first, for that matter. But don’t miss out on the present by getting lost in what may or may not come to pass. We all love you. Be present here with us now, and let the future take care of itself. The scripture says, ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’ In other words, ‘Don’t trouble trouble until trouble troubles you.’” Annie smiled inwardly at the use of another of Gram’s favorite sayings.
“I know you’re right, Annie,” said Mary Beth. “It’s just hard to forget about it. I’m at that age where I’ve thought about death, but really only l
ike it’s something that’s going to happen to other people, and not to me. At least, that’s the way I felt before yesterday. It’s such a lonely feeling. I didn’t expect to feel this way, but I do. It’s like I’m facing a voyage, and there’s no one else on board except me.”
“I think that’s human nature, to feel alone,” said Annie. “But when you start to feel that way, try to remember God’s promises to us, ‘Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.’ One of my mother’s favorite hymns was Abide With Me. She used to sing it when she washed the dishes, believe it or not.” The memory of her mother standing at the kitchen sink, her hands in soapy dishwater, quietly singing hymns as she washed and rinsed each dish, while Annie dried them and put them away, brought a smile to Annie’s face. “I always loved that line, ‘change and decay in all around I see, O Thou who changest not, abide with me.’ The knowledge that God is unchangeable and ever-present is a comfort, I think. And He promises that He will—abide with us, that is. And I know that you know you can trust in His promises. Just try to remember it when you start to feel alone.”
Mary Beth smiled. “I will, Annie. And you’re right, I do know; I guess this is a good opportunity for me to grow in faith.”
“And for all of us to do the same,” said Annie.
“OK. Enough of this,” said Mary Beth, taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders. “I’m in the present. Let’s move this coffee table and roll out this rug to see what we’ve got.”
Annie and Mary Beth had to move a few more things besides the coffee table, and it took several minutes to clear enough space to lay the roll of carpet straight across the room and to begin to unroll it. After unrolling it a couple of feet, they saw the edge of a piece of muslin fabric that spanned the carpet a foot or so short of each side.
As Annie and Mary Beth continued to unroll the rug, revealing more of the muslin fabric, Alice and Gwen came into the room.
“How’s it going in here?” asked Alice. “I don’t think our rug is going to work without some serious cleaning and repair. I hope this one is in better condition.”
“This one seems to have a protective covering over the center part,” said Annie, “and the edges look pretty good.”
Annie and Mary Beth both stood up when they reached the end of the open space—it wasn’t possible to roll out the last couple of feet of the rug, but the muslin fabric that lay on top was completely free. Annie knelt down to try to move it so they could see more of the carpet.
“It’s two layers of muslin machine-stitched together,” said Annie. She picked up the edge between her fingers and thumb. “I think there’s something inside.” She felt that prickly feeling along her spine again.
Now all of the ladies moved to the edge of the carpet to feel the muslin fabric. “You’re right,” said Gwen. “But I think it’s too thin to be another area rug.”
“This end is whipstitched together by hand,” said Mary Beth. “Do you have a seam ripper or a pair of small scissors handy, Annie?”
“I have both over in my sewing basket,” said Annie. She walked over to the side table that normally sat next to her favorite armchair; she and Mary Beth had moved it, along with the chair, to make space in the center of the room. From a small covered basket that sat on the lower shelf of the table, Annie retrieved both tools.
“Do you want the ripper or the scissors?” Annie asked Mary Beth.
“I’ll take the ripper, if you don’t mind,” she answered.
Starting at opposite ends, Annie and Mary Beth began carefully cutting through the sewing thread that held the muslin pocket edge together. When they had finished, the four women began working together to pull back the muslin to reveal what was inside.
“What are you guys doing?” asked Peggy, who had just come downstairs with an armful of fabric.
All four ladies had been intent on their efforts and were startled at the sound of Peggy’s voice.
“For Pete’s sake, Peggy,” said Alice. “Don’t sneak up on us like that!”
“I didn’t,” said Peggy, somewhat indignantly. “I just came down to get some of this fabric we might use for the play out of the way. So, again, what are you guys doing?”
“There was something else rolled inside the carpet, and we’re trying to find out what it is,” said Gwen.
“Oh cool! You’ve found another mystery!” said Peggy.
“Not so fast, Peggy,” said Annie. “Let’s just see what we’ve got before we make that sort of judgment. Could you flip on the overhead light so we can see better?”
Peggy deposited her load of fabric on the hallway bench near the door and then found the switch. Light flooded the room. Peggy pitched in to help the others, and when the muslin was completely removed, all five women stood along one side, surveying their discovery with a sense of wonder.
It was a tapestry—a huge tapestry, measuring at least five feet high by ten feet wide. It was divided into twelve scenes. In each scene, what appeared to be the same woman was shown working at a different activity, and in the upper right corner of each scene there was a small moon at a different phase of its cycle.
On the top row, at the far left, the woman was shown tenderly tucking into bed a young child with the same color of hair as herself; the bed was piled high with brightly colored blankets and a small window behind them showed the air filled with snowflakes. In the second scene, the woman sat in a darkened room next to a stone hearth, stirring a large black pot that hung over red-hot embers; steam appeared to lazily rise from the contents of the pot. In the third scene, the woman was out of doors, carrying a large, partially filled bag at her side. The bag was made with a single wide strap that was wrapped over one shoulder and spanned across her body. She was reaching out to gather a mass of wool stuck in a bush as several sheep grazed and a single lamb gamboled across a hill in the background. In the fourth scene, she planted seeds in furrowed rows of brown earth while trees alongside showed tiny green buds that seemed to be about to open into leaves. In the fifth scene, she sat holding a distaff in one hand and spinning a spindle with the other to make yarn. In the last scene on the top row, the woman was shown surrounded by raggedly dressed children as she handed out pieces of bread to them.
On the bottom row on the far left side, the tapestry showed the woman walking along a cobblestone street carrying a large basket filled with fruits and vegetables. The next scene showed her sitting before a loom weaving an intricately patterned cloth. In the next scene, the woman appeared to be showing the length of cloth she had woven to a merchant who offered her coins in exchange. In the next scene, she was shown filling a lamp with oil while another lamp, suspended by a chain attached to a hook on the wall, burned brightly behind her. In the next-to-last scene, the woman was shown hand-sewing the hem of a long caftan-like garment. The final scene showed the woman in profile, sitting at a table with her head bowed over an open book with black edges, her hands grasping the sides of the pages.
The colors in the tapestry varied from darker muted browns, greens and blues that provided depth to the scenes, to brighter tones of reds, greens, blues and yellows used in clothing that brought the figures to the fore. Faces and hands were peachy flesh tones. Neutral grays and tans added shadows and defined shapes, and soft whites provided highlights. As Annie scanned the scenes, she was astounded by the detail; the faces conveyed expression, the fabrics that were pictured had visible patterns and looked as if they were draped; even tiny leaves had veins. Each small moon was ivory-colored with golden and silvery threads woven in around the edges that made it, and each seemed to glow. Annie paused a moment. Something about the look of the tapestry tugged at her memory, but she couldn’t quite capture it.
Mary Beth was the first to speak. “Do you think this is some sort of a calendar? I mean, with the twelve scenes that would make sense.”
“Yes, but what about the moons in different phases?” asked Gwen.
“Well, in each month the moon goes through all its phases—in twent
y-nine or thirty days, I think,” said Annie. “So it would be consistent with the calendar idea, but it might also relate as a symbol of womanhood—as in the word ‘menses’ for a woman’s ‘time of the month,’ as we say, which comes from the Latin word for month.”
There was a pause as the women considered this.
“I know what this is!” said Alice, nearly shouting, a triumphant look on her face.
“What?” asked Peggy.
“It’s the Proverbs 31 woman—look—it’s just like I told you yesterday. See—she’s cooking and planting and weaving and sewing and all the other things—it’s all there!”
“I think you’re right, Alice!” said Gwen.
Annie said, “I agree; I just reread those verses this morning. But I think Mary Beth is right too. Look at the arrangement—I mean, provided you’re meant to read it like a page in a book—right to left, top to bottom. I don’t think it follows the order of the activities as they are given in Proverbs; it’s like the tapestry maker rearranged them in order to make them fit the plan of a calendar—see, there’s snow in the January panel, and she’s planting in the April panel—I think you’re both right—it is the Proverbs 31 woman, and it’s a kind of calendar too.”
Then Annie noticed something down in the bottom right corner, at the lower part of the scene of the woman reading: L.C.~MCMLXVI~L.C. The roman-font letters were placed within a narrow rectangular panel, and surrounding the letters were green vines interspersed with white lilies. In her surprise, Annie clapped her hand over her opened mouth.
The Tapestry in the Attic Page 4
