The First Book of Calamity Leek

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The First Book of Calamity Leek Page 21

by Paula Lichtarowicz


  And, course, they came out to spread nasty demonlies about Mother too.

  I ain’t going to bother with putting down all their lies, but this is a bit of what they said to Annie. They said her Ladyship made a stratospheric match in marrying his Lordship, given her background and everything, but she was a bit of a goer, so maybe that’s how she bagged him – which they didn’t say what it meant – but they said he wasn’t a good bag, Lord Llewelyn wasn’t. The craziness was deep in his blood. Which I told Annie, really weren’t nothing surprising to us, was it? And anyway, them saying Mother had got married was a see-through lie in itself, wasn’t it?

  And Dorothy said let Annie go on. So she did.

  She said, ‘They said, “He was a jealous sort. So when he discovered she had been having an affair for years, well, he hurt her in the nastiest way he could think of.” Which they said was “the bairn”, which they said was all they wanted to say on that. Rest in peace. Except that after that, he – the Lordship – scarpered to lands unknown, and she sold up all his estate and leftover bits – them that she didn’t burn – and she came home to Betws and bought up “the old Hall”, they said, where she’d grown up, “to grieve in peace and quiet”.’

  ‘Well, we know all about what this nasty stinking demonmale did to Emily,’ I said. ‘Most probably they were only trying to scare you, Annie.’

  And she just shrugged at me at that.

  Course, them demonmales shook their beards and laughed when Annie told them – which she was a total loonhead to do – about our Appendix. One of them said he had his own book with different stories in it about how everything started. The other one said the plain truth was the Sun was just a ball of fire, and we all grew out of fish, and hadn’t Annie heard that? And then they stopped laughing and said what was she being taught in there? And when Annie didn’t say, one of them whispered to the other that Mother had been known to be a bit of a ‘fruitcake’, even before the loss of her daughter. That’s what he said. ‘A fruitcake and a nutty one too.’

  Then all those demonmales whispered together that ‘Someone should take a look into all this.’ Which got Annie so shook up – and here I really don’t blame her none – that she did the best thing for it for once in her life – well, the second best, seeing as she didn’t have a blade on her to kill them all off – she went running out, with Sam chasing after.

  ‘There weren’t no time for changing into my smock, I wanted to see you all so much,’ Annie said. ‘Sam brought me to the clearing, and I came back here alone. And that’s about it, sisters. So what do you make of all that?’

  Well, I don’t mind saying, all them lies made my head go spinning something terrible, that’s what. And most probably all my sisters’ heads were spinning too. Because no one said nothing now, for being too busy staring down at the Lawn and not at Annie.

  During her telling the night had turned to dawn, and all our shadows had left us. A hungry thrush was tugging up a poor earthworm from the Lawn. A harvest spider was reeling a web across eighteen-year-old Emily’s toes. Down in the yard, the cockerels were clearing their throats. All about us, a plain-cooked perfect Garden morning was starting up, just like always. Except this one wasn’t nothing like always no more.

  Dorothy said it best, course. She got up and went and snapped one of eighteen-year-old Emily’s big toes right off, don’t ask me why, but she did. ‘It’s like trying to put an egg back in its shell,’ Dorothy said. ‘Nothing fits proper now.’

  ‘You told those demonmales about our Appendix, Annie,’ I whispered.

  ‘Yes, I did. And I ain’t sorry, Clam. I mean I’ve been thinking, and I actually can’t stop thinking it now – I’ve been thinking, what is it makes us in here so right, and all them out there so wrong?’

  Annie looked round us. Where Dorothy was hopping about breaking toes, and Mary was sawing her plait-end through front teeth. Where Eliza was hunched like a snail in the barrow and Nancy was knotting the worm. Seemed Annie had a good old look at my ears before she smiled at Sandra, ‘I’ve been thinking, what is it that’s so special about us anyway?’

  No one said nothing. Annie shrugged and stood up. ‘I’d better get these Outside clothes dried off. In the afternoon, I’m going back. I promised Sam.’

  ‘But what about us, Annie?’ Mary cried, her plait dropping out of her mouth. ‘I mean golly, Annie, now you’ve said all this. What about us, what will we do?’

  ‘Simple.’ Dorothy turned and said it in a cool easy voice that made every one of us stare. She broke a little toe off Emily, and crumbled it to dust on the Lawn. ‘The logical answer is quite simple. We will all go and look on these cushions, this Betws, this Crown. Once we’ve seen them, we can each choose the truth of it – whether they are demonmales or friends. We will go see. All of us. That is what we will do.’

  DISAPPOINTMENT

  WELL, THERE WE all were, hurrying off for the yard, chattering about the Crown and Betws, and who might go, and when, and I was saying shouldn’t we wait for Aunty to come back, and have a talk to her first, and Nancy was thumping me and saying she was off right now, she was, and she might just take the pigs, and Mary was wondering how she could push both trolleys of second wind toddlers and carry the baby if the Pontefracts didn’t want to come, and Dorothy was working out logic questions for the demonmales, and Annie was swiping at the Glamis Castle dead ends. So you see our brains and tongues were mighty busy. Which is most probably why we didn’t hear Mother’s chair wheeling screechless into the Lawn behind us.

  And I’m afraid to say this is where the story turns sad. Right here.

  So happen you might want to stop right here. Don’t let me stop you, if you do. Because there ain’t much to tell you now, but that Mother was disappointed with us and the Garden came to an end.

  That’s it.

  And, course, it is very sad, but we can’t do nothing about it now. So you may as well shut up this book.

  But if you’re made something like Mary Bootle, and like to have a cry at things that can’t be helped, well, you hang on and I’ll tell you about Mother’s disappointment. Which was big. Which was why she had to bring the shotgun when she drove into the Lawn, with Maria Liphook in front. Maria, who was attached from her belly to the arm of Mother’s chair by a length of rope.

  Course, now you’ll probably say Maria going out north for a whiff of trees was most probably to blame for Mother’s disappointment with us, but I can’t really say that it was. See, Maria only wanted to go out again after Annie made the hole. And Annie had made us all make the hole.

  So now you’ll say we all were to blame. But I can’t really say for sure that we were. See, it is also possible that Mother had been sitting in the yew path, listening to Annie’s story, and maybe it was that that made her disappointed, hearing all about the demonmales laughing at her and poor Emily. And who’s to say whether Sam or one of them others didn’t hurry along here, after Annie left the Crown, so he could cause trouble at Mother’s Glorious Abode? Or maybe that other demonmale – the one that had come sniffing in the yard after Aunty – well, maybe Mother hadn’t killed him yet, maybe he was still loose in the Garden, and it was him that Mother was really after.

  So you see, there weren’t no telling who it was needed blaming for Mother’s disappointment. You can decide yourself who to choose for it. Because, like I say, it ain’t no matter now.

  We didn’t see our Mother coming, and we probably would have got safe to the yard without having heard her at all, if, just as we started through the Glamis Castles, the air hadn’t whooshed, and the top of Dorothy’s head hadn’t about blown off. Bang.

  ‘Hold it right there.’

  And that’s when we looked round, and saw our Heavenly Mother parked up by eighteen-year-old Emily, as black-wrapped, black-glassed perfect as ever, with Maria Liphook tied to the chair, and a shotgun in her gloved hands.

  Dorothy put her hand to her head, but it was all still there. The gun’s eye swung onto Sandra. I whispered to E
mily to wake up please, wherever she was, and please go tell Mother that the hole in the Wall was an accident. And if it wasn’t the hole, but the demonmales in the Crown disappointing her, well, we could go and sort them easy. So Mother didn’t need to be disappointed with us.

  And maybe Emily did go and tell Mother something of this, because Mother held that gun steady at Sandra, and she didn’t shoot it at her. ‘One has an announcement to make,’ she said. ‘Weapons will gather round.’

  Annie dropped her Outside clothes all quiet behind her on the Lawn.

  That gun shot the air above Sandra’s head, so Sandra screamed and jumped.

  ‘Quick march forward, you worms. One doesn’t have all day.’

  We moved closer to Mother. Twenty paces off. Nineteen. Eighteen.

  Bang.

  ‘Halt! Not one more step, if you want to keep your heads. There’s gathering round, and there’s reckless invasion of personal space.’ Mother laid her gun on her lap and undid Maria’s rope. She dropped it on the Lawn. ‘One weapon quick march up here at once, and relieve one of this filthy thing.’

  Dorothy scooted up, eyes down, and took Maria’s rope. They raced back down to us as fast as their toes could turn.

  Mother looked up and smiled Heavenly, ‘Here we go, angelkins.’ Then she pointed them black glasses straight at us. So straight that I almost turned as dizzy as Eliza, who had just tumbled down.

  And Mother spoke.

  ‘Due to circumstances beyond one’s control, one hereby announces the immediate cessation of all combat plans. Amid the mourning at this untimely end, one shall not forget the concept, which was inspired, the cause, which was just, and the preparation, which was adequate. One’s daughter Emily also joins one in expressing her gratitude for playing, but says it’s time now to pop the weapons back in the box.’

  Mother raised the gun and fired it bang bang bang over Nancy’s head. ‘Quite right, angelkins,’ she said. ‘One other thing. One’s daughter and oneself remind the weapons not to grieve for the manner of their expiration. History informs us not every soldier is so fortunate as to die in the glory of battle itself. This does not invalidate their effort for the cause. That about do it for you, angelkins? Jolly good. Therefore, without further ado, you can all bugger off back to your box. Vamoose. Scram. Go on, piss off the stinking lot of you.’

  And before I could think, ‘Well, thank goodness for that, now we’ll all be safe until Aunty is back,’ and before I could even smile at the thought of it, my sister Annie St Albans was only at it again.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Annie was saying, throwing words at our Heavenly Mother like common fertiliser. ‘I don’t understand what you mean by popping back in our box?’

  Mother gasped. She shrunk back in her chair and jammed up her ears.

  ‘What box?’ Annie said.

  ‘Annie!’ I whispered. ‘Whatever are you thinking? You know we ain’t allowed to talk to Mother.’

  But Annie didn’t hear me, course. And she may as well have been thrusting a blade at Mother’s heart as she spoke, because she kept on, ‘What box? What box? Where’s the box?’

  So our poor Mother’s mouth had to let out a kettling hiss of pain. ‘One cannot hear it.’ Mother shrank down in the chair. ‘One cannot hear it, no.’

  And maybe it was Emily buzzing up to me, getting cross at Mother’s pain, I don’t know, but next thing I was shaking Annie, ‘Look what you’re doing to Mother! You’re killing Mother, Annie! You’re killing Mother!’

  ‘I’m not doing anything to her,’ Annie said. ‘I’m only wondering about the box.’

  ‘Stop wondering, Annie. Can’t you ever stop wondering? You’re killing Mother with your wondering!’

  ‘I don’t want to kill Mother. I just want to know what box we’re going in.’

  ‘Calm down, Clam,’ Dorothy whispered.

  ‘But it’s Annie needs to stop it. Stop it, Annie! Stop it all!’

  Bang bang bang went the gun over our heads.

  And thank the Goddess Daughter, Mother was sat up, looking most recovered. ‘Quite right, my angel, you’re quite right as ever, Mummy can do this. It’s quite straightforward if Mummy doesn’t look at them.’ She smiled Heavenly at the air. ‘Yes, Mummy hears you, angelkins. Loud and clear. Yes, Mummy knows we really must get on, if we’re to get a head start. No, of course, Mummy won’t screw this up.’

  Mother pointed the shotgun. ‘Those two vile noisy ones will stay behind and await further orders.’

  Me and Annie. Course it was.

  ‘All remaining weapons – about turn.’

  Mother fired the gun over Mary’s head. Mary screamed and ducked. And Mother clicked the switch on her electric chair and shot forward.

  My sisters turned and ran. Heads down, they ran south under the Crème arch and into the Glamis Castles, with Mother’s chair chasing. Only their dew footprints were left on the Lawn. It was like an army of Cinderellas had gone off and left all their slippers behind.

  EMILYS

  I SIGHED LONG and hard and shook my head. ‘Well, thank you very much for that, sister.’

  Annie stared at the Glamis Castles. ‘Where do you think she’s taking them?’

  ‘To be safe in the dorm, most likely. Weren’t it lucky Mother didn’t see what Dorothy did to Emily’s toes?’

  ‘Why was she banging the gun so much at our heads?’

  ‘I don’t know, Annie. Maybe it is training for War.’

  ‘But why?’

  I sniffed. ‘Oh, Annie, do you think Mother heard you talking about the Outside?’

  Annie didn’t stop from watching the Glamis Castles. ‘Does it matter now?’

  ‘Does it matter that she might have heard you let demonmales stamp all over her, and poor Emily, and the Garden’s purpose, and our own special purpose too?’

  ‘Well, does it?’

  Tears prickled my eyes. ‘Oh, Annie—’

  ‘Listen, Clam,’ Annie grabbed my arm. ‘I’m still going out, you know that, don’t you? That’s the only thing that matters now. And Dorothy and Mary and Nancy and Sandra are coming out, and maybe our other sisters too. Maybe us all.’ Her eyes were shrunk to glass spits. ‘Maybe we’re all going out. Maybe we won’t come back.’

  ‘But look at our beautiful Garden, Annie.’ I looked about where a cloud blanket was draped so low and safe I couldn’t even see the rim of the Wall. Damp hung on our furs and on the night’s leftovers – the barrow and the petal bin, and Annie’s pile of Outside clothes. ‘Look how safe-kept we are. What will Aunty do without us when she comes back? Who will she prepare for War if we are gone? What will the roses do, and the pigs? Don’t you want to fight in Japan, Annie? Don’t you want to play in Heaven’s Garden forever?’ Tears were jumping out of me. I went to grab her arm. ‘Please, Annie. Can’t you wait here twenty-eight more days till it’s the proper time for you to leave?’

  But Annie just turned back to staring at the Glamis Castles. ‘What do you think she’s doing down there? I can’t hear anything.’

  I whispered that I didn’t know.

  Annie kept on looking. The sky lid sagged over us. All the Sacred Lawn was still.

  After a bit, Mother drove back up from the yard into the Lawn. Mother had a stack of furs wedged between her lap and her chin.

  Mother stopped the chair ten paces off us. She lifted the gun and rested it comfy on top of the furs. The gun’s eye looked at me. ‘Attention!’

  It shifted to Annie. ‘About turn.’

  Mother marched us north onto the yew path, and now my sorry heart flipped to instant joy. Because here was where all the past Emilys lived, all fourteen of them, going back in age to her four-year-old self. All were plinthed and polished in front of the yew hedges. Not one had rotted like pigmeat, or like Truly would have done under her mound by now, if she hadn’t already been dragged down to Bowels.

  Seventeen-year-old Emily had a lamb stuck to the side of her knee. Sixteen-year-old Emily was looking down over her full and happ
y belly. Fifteen-year-old Emily carried a baby sister in her arms. Fourteen-year-old Emily prayed under a crown of roses. Thirteen-year-old Emily was wearing wings taller than her own head. Sorrowful twelve-year-old Emily held a blooded cloth in one hand and pressed her other to her brow. Eleven-year-old Emily opened her sore bleeding heart for us to see it – a tear was stuck halfway down her left cheek.

  Course, I started crying, seeing Emily bleeding there. Crying too hard to think about walking on, until the shotgun shoved me in the back. See, it weren’t just poor Emily and her killing off I was remembering, it was each of her birthday parties, and how happy we had all been. How happy we all were, before Truly climbed up the Wall and Annie started wondering, and holes grew where they shouldn’t, and ‘nothing fits proper now,’ just like Dorothy said it didn’t.

  We passed eight- and seven-year-old Emilys. I tried to dry up. ‘I reckon we’re being taken to see Mother’s Glorious Abode,’ I whispered in Annie’s ear. ‘That’s what I reckon. Now we’re really going to see it.’

  Annie said nothing. She was scuffing up the pebbles on the path.

  We came to four-year-old Emily, kneeling in prayer in front of the last yew bush, her eyeballs rolled up to Heaven. Mother’s first and fairest, four-year-old Emily knelt by the bend in the path, which could only lead one place.

  ‘Now we’ll see, Annie, won’t we?’

  We walked round the corner. I took Annie’s hand to squeeze.

  ‘Didn’t I say, Annie? Didn’t I?’

  But it wasn’t the Glorious Abode with rooms of curtains and fire, like Aunty liked to talk about. There was nothing but a giant empty box in front of us. Wheeled. Its open doors blocking out the path up to the hedges. Its inside empty as a ready oven.

  ‘Halt!’ Mother said.

  ‘I don’t like this,’ Annie whispered. ‘What’s an Outside van doing here?’

 

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