A Perfect Gentle Knight (23 page)

Corrie got up and left before she had to lie any more.

A
UGUST WAS BORING
without Meredith back in the city. One rainy morning Corrie wandered through the house wondering what to do. She decided to start another diorama.

She got a glass of water, set up her paints on her desk, and began coating the back of a shoebox a rosy blue. When the paint had dried she added a line of low green hills and a rising sun.

Rooting around in the box of diorama materials she kept under her bed, Corrie found a piece of green velvet cloth. Aunt Madge had given her this once; it was left over from a cushion cover.

Corrie cut the cloth to fit the bottom of the box, then glued it in place. She smoothed the soft velvet—it looked just like grass.

An hour later the velvet had become a meadow. A tree made out of a branch covered with green paper leaves was anchored in place with Plasticine. A robin perched on one of its branches. Red and yellow felt flowers dotted the meadow, and a stream of blue ribbon meandered through it.

Corrie was pleased with the results, but the scene needed more. If only she could draw people! Then she could add a tiny figure of each member of the family. They could be having a picnic under the tree.

She couldn't draw people, but she'd always been excellent at drawing horses. She sketched six small horses on a piece of cardboard, coloured each one with pencil crayons and carefully cut them out with nail scissors. It took forever to carve out each tiny leg and ear and tail.

She glued tabs on the backs of the horses and arranged them in the meadow. Fa was a golden palomino standing under the shade of the tree. Twin grey ponies munched the flowers. A chestnut (Corrie), an Appaloosa (Roz), and a pinto (Harry) stood nose to nose in the middle. On the right side of the meadow—but facing the others—was a handsome black stallion.

Corrie stared at the scene and then she made one more horse—a white one with a flowing mane. She placed it under the tree beside Fa.

It was finished. Corrie wished herself into the scene, relishing the smell of the sweet grass, the sound of the bubbling stream and the bird's song welcoming the dawn. She had created a little paradise. Mum was with them again and everyone was at peace. No one had to worry about a new school or a new housekeeper or whether Sebastian would ever be better. If Corrie were really a horse in a meadow she would roll over on the grass and kick up her heels for joy.

But she wasn't. She gazed at the diorama and sighed. At least she could look at it sometimes.

C
ORRIE STARTED GOING
to the pool every afternoon, after her stint of twinsitting was over. She was teaching herself how to do a better dive. She had always found it hard not to splash or to flip her legs over. She crouched at the side of the pool and dived again and again. On the third day she thought she'd improved enough to try the board.

“Good try!” someone cried. “Curl your toes under and spring out more. Do you want me to show you?”

Darlene! Corrie was about to shake her head and walk away. Why would Darlene want to have anything to do with her? But she seemed so friendly. “I guess you could,” said Corrie shyly. “Do you know how to dive?”

Darlene walked to the board, bounced on the end, and executed a perfect dive.

“Wow!” said Corrie after Darlene had climbed out of the pool. “Where did you learn that?”

“My dad taught me,” said Darlene. “I can show you. Come on.”

For an hour Darlene showed Corrie how to bounce high and keep her legs taut. By the end of the afternoon Corrie almost had it.

“Do you want to try again tomorrow?” asked Darlene.

“Sure!” Corrie wondered why Darlene was at the pool by herself when she was usually with the rest of the Five. “Where are the others?” she asked casually as they changed.

“Everyone's away,” said Darlene glumly. “They're at their summer cabins or visiting relatives. Where's Meredith?”

“She's in Alberta for the whole summer. She was supposed to come back for August, but then she decided to go to some stupid camp.”

“A camp—yuck, I'd hate that. Everyone telling you what to do all the time. Do you want a Popsicle?”

“I haven't got any money.”

“I'll treat you. Come on.” They walked to the concession booth, Darlene chattering all the way. Corrie licked her orange Popsicle with awe. Darlene had always been nice to her, but now she was asking her to come to her house on the way home!

“I'll show you the new clothes my mum bought me for school,” she told Corrie.

F
OR THE LAST TWO WEEKS
of the summer Corrie saw Darlene every day. They swam or went bowling or rode their bikes to Little Mountain or played Monopoly with her little brothers. It wasn't as special as going to the Coopers'. Darlene's brothers whined, and her mother was cranky.

A few times Corrie asked Darlene home. “I remember this old house!” said Darlene. “Isn't there a secret closet on the top floor?” Corrie had almost forgotten that before Mum died, Darlene had been her friend and had sometimes come over to play.

The two of them talked a lot about what junior high would be like. In a couple of weeks they would be going there! They shared their fears of the huge number of students and the enormous building, of having a lot of teachers and homework every night—and dances and older boys. “I like boys, but I'm not ready to date yet,” Darlene confided. “Mum says I can't until grade nine.”

“Date!” Corrie was horrified. She was
never
planning to date, but she didn't tell Darlene that. If she did, Darlene might think she was babyish.

Darlene was not like Meredith. She didn't read much and she didn't have Meredith's contagious enthusiasm. Her greatest interest was sports; she had won awards for skating as well as for swimming. She and Corrie spent hours throwing balls into her family's basketball hoop.

At least she was someone to hang around with until Meredith came back. And Corrie felt comforted sharing her own worries about Laburnum with Darlene. Darlene even asked if she and Meredith would like to walk to school with the Five on their first day. “I'll ask her,” said Corrie, amazed.

Roz took Corrie shopping for new school clothes, and Darlene tagged along. Corrie refused to get the twin-set they suggested, but she was happy with her red car coat, her white blouses, and her kilt in the B.C. Centennial plaid.

“Do you want nylons?” asked Roz.

“
I
have nylons,” said Darlene. “Grade seven is when you start wearing them, right, Roz?”

“We wear socks to school, but nylons for parties and church,” Roz explained.

“No thanks,” said Corrie. Part of her was intrigued by the idea of nylons, but she would wait and see what Meredith decided.

C
ORRIE
'
S BIRTHDAY WAS BETTER
than she had expected. All of her presents were good ones, especially the Brownie camera Fa gave her. And Sebastian's smile seemed genuine when he handed her the last Narnia novel, the only one she hadn't read.

“How did you
know
I wanted that?” she asked.

“I heard you tell Roz,” he mumbled.

Corrie chose the White Spot for her birthday dinner, and Darlene came, too. Darlene, however, spent the whole time talking to Roz about junior high. As Corrie sat in the restaurant relishing her fried chicken, she wondered what Meredith was doing. She could hear her voice saying, “We're both
twelve
!”

Corrie picked up her chicken and munched it as messily as the twins. If there was only one more year before she had to be a teenager, she might as well enjoy it.

T
HE AGENCY PHONED
Fa with three names. He asked each woman over one at a time, letting the whole family interview her.

The first woman was called Miss White. She was as pale and bland as her name.

“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.”

C
ORRIE 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!