only August.
The stairs creaked and moaned as we ascended,
and the railing shook. I looked back and saw that
Felix was eyeing it with some concern and caution. "Don't lean on it." he warned.
When we reached the second landing. Greataunt Frances paused and gazed about, as if she was
trying to remember where my room was herself. Then
she smiled and started down to our right. Because
there were no windows in the hallway and the
chandeliers in the ceiling were unlit and also missing
bulbs, it was so dark that I felt we were walking
through a tunnel of shadows. I could barely make out
the few pictures hung along the way. They were
depictions of country scenes, men and women riding
horses with dogs trailing along. There was a picture of
a lake with a young woman looking out over it as if
she was waiting desperately for someone.
I wasn't watching where I was going, so I
nearly screamed when Miss Puss charged past me,
grazing my lower leg and shooting ahead into the first
open doorway.
Great-aunt Frances paused there and turned to
me.
"This is it," she said. I wondered if she had seen
the cat go in.
I stepped up beside her and looked into what
was to be my room. My heart bobbed like a vo-yo in
my chest. There was a very large bed with a heavylooking, dark oak headboard and footboard, but the
bed obviously had been made hastily. The bedsheet hung too far on one side, and the pillows were stuffed too tightly into their cases, making them look bumpy and too rounded. There was a dull, cream-colored comforter with thread hanging from its edges. It appeared to have been tossed over the bed at the last moment. Grandmother Emma would have fired Nancy if she had made a bed like this. I thought, And our minder, Miss Harper? She would have had a heart
attack and Ian wouldn't have had to poison her. Curtains dangled limply around the two large
windows, one to the right and the other to the left of
the headboard. There were no shades to stop the
morning sunlight, and the grime around the corners of
the casings, the moldings and around the shelves on
the wall to the left announced that the room was in
desperate need of housekeeping. There were cobwebs,
too, in every corner of the ceiling. Whereas Ian would
call Grandmother Emma's house a museum of
antiques, he would surely call this house a museum of
dust. No one had been sent to greet us at the door, but
didn't Great-aunt Frances at least have a housekeeper? Again. I looked at Felix. Now he looked like he
would break into tears leaving me here. He was
paused just behind me, shaking his head gently. I
looked around the room again, at least pleased to see the small desk and chair even though they were both quite scratched. The desk was a little like the one I had back at the mansion. I'd sit there and do my homework. To the right of it was a large dresser that didn't match the bed. It was a much lighter shade of
wood and a different style. It, too, had scratches, "Here's the closet," Great-aunt Frances cried
and opened the closet door to reveal clothes on
hangers tightly stuffed against each other, squeezed in
to fit. "Oh, dear." she said, realizing there was no
space for my clothes. "I forgot to take my things out.
This was once my room," she said, smiling. "But
maybe some of those things would fit you. I tell you
what. You take everything out and try anything on
and choose anything you want, okay? And what you
don't want we'll have Lester take to the Salvation
Army, unless it fits his granddaughter,"
After she said that a tiny buzzer went off, and
she raised her wrist so quickly that I thought
something living in the closet might have bitten her,
but she was looking at her large-face watch. "Oh, dear me, dear me. It's time for Hearts and
Flowers. I never miss it. Never, never. I'll leave you to
get organized." she added and hurried past us, out the
door and down the corridor, Miss Puss crawled out from under the bed and looked up at us. Then she shot
past and after Great-aunt Frances.
Felix finally lowered my bags to the floor. He
sighed deeply and shook his head again as he looked
around the room.
"Yep. Mrs. March would sure be surprised." he
muttered. He approached the dresser. There were old
photographs in frames, a dark wooden jewelry box
and two ceramic angels on it. After he ran his hand
over the dresser, we could see the top was crusted in
dust.
to be caring for this house. That was the agreement
she made with your grandmother when Lester asked if
his daughter and her daughter could move onto the
property. Looks like she's got some back rent due." he
added. "I'm going to go have a word with her. by don't
you look around and see what you need before I leave
for Bethlehem," he added. "I'm just afraid I'd set your
grandmother's recovery back a decade if I described
all this to her." He tightened his face and straightened
his shoulders. "I'll handle it myself.
"Damn," I heard him mutter as he turned and
walked out.
I stood alone, feeling as if I had been deposited in someone else's nightmare. Felix wanted me to see what else I needed? I needed my family back. I needed to go home. For a moment I debated whether or not I should just run out after him and cry for him to take me home, but what would that do to
Grandmother Emma? And to Daddy? I'd be the cause of so much more trouble. And then, of course. Ian
would be disappointed in me.
"Open your suitcases, unpack and settle down,"
I could hear him whisper.
I put the bag of his letters on the small desk.
then I went to the dresser, but when I opened the
drawers to put in my things. I found they were full of
socks, underwear, and blouses. Actually, nothing had
been removed to make room for me. When had Greataunt Frances learned I was coming? Hadn't she had
any time to prepare? What was I supposed to do? I
took out a blouse and held it up. It was small enough
to fit someone like me. I thought, I probably could fit
into some of her old clothes. This had definitely been
her room when she was a little girl, and from the
looks of it, no one had been in it since. I wondered
where she slept now
I condensed her things to make room for my
own things in the drawers. How fortunate it was that I hadn't brought all my clothing. There would simply be no room. When I finished unpacking. I realized Greataunt Frances had not shown me where the bathroom I was to use was located. There was none in the room, as there was in my room back at the mansion. I had to put away my bathroom things. Where do I go? It can't
be far, I thought and went out searching.
The first door on my right opened on another
bedroom. There was a similar-size bed, but this one
wasn't even poorly made. The blanket was tossed
back and dangled off the side, and the four pillows
were all over the bed. It looked like the bed a person
having a terrible nightmare had just slept in or had
tri
ed to sleep in.
I gazed around. This room had an oval area rug
under and around the bed. It was a light shade of ruby,
but splotched and stained, with a few rips along the
edges. I saw that a dish had been put there for Miss
Puss to lick out the remains of something,
Clothing was strewn about everywhere, as if
someone had gone mad and torn everything out of the
closets and drawers and flung them in the air. Just as
in the living room. I saw dishes and glasses with
caked, old food. They were on the vanity table, the
vanity table chair and the bedside tables. The windows in this room had shades, but one was inoperative and hung on a slant. On the dresser to my left. I saw a picture I recognized. It was similar to a picture I had seen in one of Grandmother Emma's old albums, a picture of her and Great- aunt Frances when they were both young women. Great-aunt Frances was
by far the prettier one back then. I thought.
I turned to a door across the hall and found the
bathroom. When I looked at it. I hoped there was
another. It was barely bigger than the powder room on
the first floor of Grandmother Emma's mansion. The
right sink faucet had a slow but continuous drip that
had long ago discolored the basin with streaks of rust.
Over the counter beside it were an open tube of
toothpaste with toothpaste dripped around it, a
toothbrush, a hairbrush fill of hair, pieces of soap and
an open bottle of antacid. There were articles of
clothing, panties, slips and socks scattered on the floor
and over the sides of the tub. A blouse hung from the
shower curtain and looked like it had been soaked in
water and soap and then just left there dripping. Whoever had done it hadn't noticed it would
drip on the floor and not into the tub.
The cabinet over the sink was open. Inside, the
shelves were crowded with all sorts of over-thecounter medicines, loose Band-Aids and another tube
of toothpaste without a cap. A bottle of cough
medicine had spilled as well, the liquid sticking to one
of the shelves and dripping down to another. It was
hard and discolored. It had obviously spilled quite a
while ago. Why hadn't it been cleaned up?
When I looked at the tub and the shower. I saw
they weren't in much better condition than the sink.
The tub also had rust stains and a ring around it, from
when it had last been used. perhaps. There was a
damp washcloth crimpled in it and a bar of soap.
Along the far side were jars of bath powders lined up,
two without caps.
Was this to be my bathroom. too?
I hoped not and quickly walked out and to the
other side of the stairway, where there were two other
rooms. The first door was closed, but it wasn't locked.
I opened it and looked in on a very nice bedroom. It
had a canopy bed with a lighter shade of wood for the
headboard, posts and footboard. The dressers matched
and the oval area rug was a pretty shade of light blue
and in very good shape. Everything was neat in the
room. There were no articles of clothing cast about,
and nothing looked out of place. All the articles on the
dresser were carefully placed. I saw there was another doorway, so I walked in to discover a bathroom in which the fixtures, although not modern, looked
newer and clean.
The windows in the room were the ones I had
seen with curtains and shades when we'd driven up.
Nothing looked worn or torn. Why couldn't this be my
bedroom? I wondered. Was it Great-aunt Frances's
bedroom? On closer inspection. I could see that
although it was well put together, it still had thin
layers of dust over the furnishings. It was simply an
unused room, but the nicest room in the house I had
seen so far. I couldn't imagine why Great-aunt
Frances wasn't using it.
Confused. I left it and tried the last door, but it
was locked. I thought about it for a moment and then
returned to the stairway. I could hear the television. so
I descended and walked into the living room. where I
found Great-aunt Frances sprawled on the sofa
looking dreamily at the set and following the drama,
Miss Puss was sprawled on the floor and looked up at
me, then lowered her head to her paws. Great-aunt
Frances didn't even notice I had entered. It was almost
as if she had forgotten my arrival, just the way a child
might. She was totally absorbed in her show and
looked like she would cry if I interrupted. I decided to
wait for the commercial.
Before it came. I heard the front door forcefully
opened. Felix stepped in and then stepped to the side
to permit a tall. thin. African American woman, with
short hair cropped more like a man's hair, to enter as
well. Her facial features were childlike, diminutive,
with a pair of blazing ebony eyes and firm, taught
lips. She wore a dark blue blouse, opened nearly to
her belly button. She didn't seem to care that her
breasts were almost entirely visible. Her jeans were so
tight that I wondered how she could put them on and
take them off. I saw she wore no socks with her
battered old running shoes. Her ankles looked bruised
and swollen,
"It makes no sense for me coming here to clean.
Believe me, ten minutes after I'm gone, she gonna
turn it back to a pigsty," she whined.
Felix closed the door by pounding it with his
sledgehammer fist. He glared at her.
"And believe me it makes no sense your living
here rent free without doing the work." he responded. "I do the work!" she moaned. "She ruins it, so I
just give up. I ain't a slave, you know."
"You don't decide when to give up," he said
firmly. "Or if you do, you move off the property" She looked away angrily, her gaze falling on
me with stinging fury. I immediately thought she
believed I was the reason she was being chastised. If I
hadn't come, no one would have discovered how
poorly she was keeping the house.
Felix lifted his right hand and pointed to the
chandelier.
"No one can change a lightbulb? What's that
got to do with how Miss Wilkens conducts herself?
And this doorjamb. Why hasn't it been sanded and
adjusted? Look at those shades dangling in rooms.
What about the ones missing from the upstairs
bedroom? I'm afraid to inspect the rest of the house.
Minor repairs have been neglected everywhere you
look here: the porch steps, porch floor, railings, that
stairway and banister. The place is a disaster and it
was once a prime property."
"None of that's my fault. I just agreed to clean
up. That other stuffs my father's job," she said. He
was hired to be the property manager, not me." I was shocked to hear a daughter shift blame
toward her own father.
Felix grunted.
"Don't worry. I'll be talking with him shortly.
Let's first get this place liveable. There's a young girl
going to be living here now."
"Well, don't blame me if it turns back to a
pigsty before you even drive away," she muttered and
charged past me down the hallway to a closet. She
jerked it open and pulled out a pail and a mop, glared
back at us and continued into another room, probably
the kitchen. I had yet to explore the downstairs. Felix watched her and then walked slowly to
the living room doorway, where I stood waiting.
Great-aunt Frances either hadn't heard the commotion
or had ignored it. She was still transfixed on her soap
opera.
"Miss Wilkens," Felix said.
She just waved at him. He looked at me
quizzically. I smiled and shrugged. Finally, the
commercial came on and she turned to us.
"Oh, are you all unpacked, dear?" she asked. "Not yet. I had to find the bathroom first. Is that
the one I'll be using, the one across the hall?" "Yes, it is. We'll arrange it together. Now that
you're here. I'll have to get myself more organized,"
she said. "I'll have to be more like Emma."
More organized? I don't see any order, I I
thought,
"You mentioned you were going to make her
some lunch," Felix said.
"Lunch? Oh, right, lunch. In a few minutes.
Debbie has just learned that her sister's child is her
husband's, too, and her husband is in a panic and just
wandering aimlessly in the city_ . Marcia says he's
like an amnesiac. They don't know if he's pretending." "Miss Wilkens. I have Mae Betty here cleaning
up the house. "Oh, wasn't she just here? I can't
remember."
"If she was, she forgot some things." Felix said
and glanced at me. "I'm sure you want it to be in
better shape than it is. It was once a prime property.
Mrs. March would have a second stroke if she set eyes
on it the way it is now."
"What? Yes." Great-aunt Frances considered
what he said, and then her eyes widened, "Emma's not
coming soon, is she?" she asked, obviously terrified of
the possibility and forgetting what Felix had already
told her about Grandmother Emma.
"No, Miss Wilkens. She won't be coming in the
near future, but eventually, she might."
"Well, let me know first. I'd like to get her
room fixed up the way she likes it. She so likes fresh
flowers in vases on the night tables. No one dares use
that room but Emma, even though she hasn't used it
since... since I can't remember.' She laughed. "Yes, well, as I said, things have to be taken