Lady (21 page)

But what about the food on the back porch, Ma asked; heaven knew what there would be to eat where we were going. When they were on dry land, Lew said, we would come back and bring whatever we could manage. Ma followed Ag into the boat, we loaded Nancy and Kerney in, then Patsy, and pulled away from our house. Gert was on her stoop, while the cow stood knee-high in water on the lawn.

"You tell old Keep not to send any soldiers around in a boat, I'm not leaving unless Bossy goes!" she stormed, as if it were our own personal flood. Her face screwed up in a pugnacious grimace, she watched our boat slide away from our door. I sat at the stern in order to bail, for the scow, though seaworthy, was leaking water along the keel where the caulking had split. Lew and Harry had us headed on a course for the Great Elm, where the current seemed easier going, but still it was hard work.

Then I saw the front door open across the way, and Lady appeared, bundled up in Jesse's old sweater and running down the walk toward us.

"Where are you going?" she called, and we answered, to the Masonic Hall.

"Nonsense," she returned in a tone I remembered. "Lew -- Harry, come this way -- this way, boys. Hurry before your poor mother gets all wet. Hello, Agnes, hello, Kerney. Nice weather for ducks, isn't it? Don't be afraid, Nancy, the boys will have you safe in a jiffy."

There she stood at the end of her brick walk with Honey beside her, the laughter in her voice, suggesting that this was all some marvelous adventure and sure to prove diverting. She called back to the house for Elthea and Jesse, saying guests were coming and to make ready; then she grabbed the painter as I tossed it to her from the bow, relinquishing it to Jesse, who came behind her in his butler's coat, as if expecting company. Meanwhile Patsy sprang to dry land and went frolicking with Honey. Elthea and Lady helped Ma, then Ag and Nancy onto dry ground while Jesse waded out in rubber boots and carried Kerney to safety. We pushed off, to row back across the Green for the things from the Frigidaire; and half an hour later, grouped around the fire Jesse had built, with hot coffee and tea or cocoa, Lady's laughter floating about us as she talked of the house party we were going to have -- "Larks, my dears, we'll have such larks" -- I openly rejoiced, knowing then that she had come back to us again.

Had, in fact, never left us; or so it seemed. She was the Lady of old, brimming with fun and plans, and unable to do enough for us, our whole family scattered helter-skelter about her house. It was large enough, certainly, and sleeping arrangements were easily made, and the extra leaves put in the dining-room table to accommodate us at mealtimes, and plenty of food to put on it from Elthea's pantry. We stayed five days, and they were among the best I can recall. We seldom were alone, and there was no chance to probe Lady's latest and longest retirement. Nor was the last visit of the red-haired man spoken of. It was as if she had blocked out all the unpleasant things that had happened since that Halloween night.

But this was the end of March, and at the final phase of an historic flood; for almost from our transference to the house across the Green the river began receding. Isolated from the world, we were hungry for news, which we got on the crystal set, and were thankful that we had not had to go with the hundreds of others who had been evacuated throughout the valley, including the redoubtable Gert Flagler. Who that was there doesn't remember with a smile the sight of Gert being carried, under protest, into a waiting boat by two husky National Guardsmen? Her furious bellows could be heard even over on our side of the Green, and she swatted her husky saviors with her pocketbook as they rowed away, cradling her latest Spencer corset catalogue in her lap.

"My cow -- my cow --"

"Lady, we'll get your cow."

"Tell it to Sweeney!"

They did. Two men came poling a makeshift raft, got poor Bossy on it, and, mooing loudly, she was taken to dry land.

Lew, Harry, and I were meanwhile spending a good deal of time in Lady's cellar, using another siphon pump, for it had been discovered that the ground, which had soaked up so much moisture, was depositing it through the stonework of the foundations, and this, too, was taking on a foot of water. We pumped it into buckets and carried them up the hatchway stairs and emptied them off behind the carriage house, and I watched with fascination as the level gradually dropped, revealing the bottom of the coal pile, the lower twelve inches of which had gotten soaked.

Harry and Lew began moving the dry coal to the other side of the bin, and I stared in horror as their shovels worked at the place where I had made up my mind that the
corpus delicti
had been hidden. Then, to my surprise, they were down to the watery floor, with not enough coal left to hide a midget.

The matter remained a mystery as the flood tide continued to recede and the water ebbed back from the Green, leaving an ugly stretch of mud and debris. But, the water line dropping, I knew that each inch brought us nearer to the day when we must leave and go home. Traffic was once again negotiating the roadway along Broad Street, people were seen coming and going on various errands, while a work crew began the job of cleaning up. It was at this point that Lady announced that she was going to give a party -- an end-of-the-flood party, combined with her birthday celebration, where, like Noah, everybody could get as drunk as they wished. The house now being accessible, she would invite all the neighbors, and we would have a high old time. Since it was also to be our farewell to her house, she intended to make it a memorable celebration. So on went the apron, down came the recipe books, out came the baking pans, and she began preparing enormous quantities of food for a buffet supper. Ma, Ag, Nancy, and Elthea helped her, while we boys worked under Jesse's supervision, cleaning, waxing, and polishing in all the downstairs rooms.

Meanwhile there began a parade of deliveries from the Center, where things had gotten back to normal: wine from the liquor store, meat from the market, and ice from Mr. Pretty, the vegetable man. Mr. Pretty's industriousness was the talk of Pequot Landing. At one time he had made a comfortable living selling ice, but with G.E.s and Kelvinators on everyone's back porches he changed to peddling vegetables door-to-door in the summer to support his family (large jolly wife, nine kids, all fat) while during the winter he sold firewood and kindling, and trees at Christmas time. In the spring he odd-jobbed, in the fall guided businessmen on hunting trips in Maine. Evenings he took a correspondence course in dentistry, when he wasn't meeting with the Boy Scouts, the Masons, or the church deacons. He was so busy that people said they didn't see where he found time to oblige Mrs. Pretty with so many offspring.

He brought Lady a hundred-pound block of ice, and departed, and behind him came Colonel Blatchley, supervising the laying in of the various liquors, and after he had scouted a suitable spot at which to set up the bar, and a place to set out the champagne, he and Jesse put the wine bottles in a snowdrift to cool until the party.

We had attacked the sideboard in the dining room, and I was making faces in the watery mirror when Lady came in. Remembering the episode with the mirrors in the funhouse at Holiday Lake, I broke off, and she asked us to go up to the attic to find the pads for the table before she laid the cloth. There was a large platter up there which she wanted as well, and she sent Ag along to carry it down.

Warmed by the bricks of the giant chimney at one end, the attic was a cozy spot. We discovered a number of trunks of a size to hide any number of very large men in, and I wondered if the remains of the red-haired man had not found its way into one of these instead of the coal bin. Harry already had one of them open, but no mortal bones did it contain, only clothes from earlier periods.

With a delighted sigh Ag drew out a long robe and tried it on, a sort of dressing gown covered with a feathery pattern of turquoise peacock tails, with gold dots in the eyes, and it made soft swishing sounds as she knotted the sash and moved in it. Lew, meanwhile, discovered an old army tunic, and when he had put it on we went to look in the mirror in the bedroom under the sloping roof at the other end of the attic. This room we knew to be Jesse's and Elthea's, sparely furnished and, not surprisingly, neat as a pin, for Elthea was unfailingly a good housekeeper. There was a large bed which took up nearly all the floor space, with a great carved headboard and a smaller footboard, and a mattress under the counterpane that sagged toward the middle.

Lew and Aggie were posing side by side before the mirror on the wall, and none of us heard the footsteps on the stairway until Lady's voice was heard to say, "Where are my table pads --" She broke off as she appeared in the doorway, staring at the figures, her face gone white as if she had seen a ghost. Which, I suddenly realized, was precisely the case -- a pair of ghosts. Lew had struck a smart attitude of salute, while Aggie's languid-model pose dripped peacock from sleeve to hem.

Lady's half-moan froze them like figures in a tableau. Her brows drew together in an angry line, and her voice was a harsh whisper. "Get out, all of you, get out of here! Take those things off. Do you hear? Take them
off
!" We stood, speechless, then Lew plunged past her through the door. Tears came into Aggie's eyes as she looked at Lady, then turned to follow Lew. Lady's hand came out, seizing one of the sleeves, and the delicate fabric tore at the shoulder seam. Then, giving me an impatient shake, she hurried me through the door after the others.

Lew was unbuttoning the tunic, while Ag was trying to unknot the sash of the torn gown. Lady had closed the bedroom door and was stopped at the stairway railing, one hand supporting herself, the fingers of the other pressing at her mouth, and she continued to stare as Aggie's movements grew more agitated in trying to undo the knot. It was Aggie's tears that brought Lady back to herself. Visibly controlling the emotions that had shaken her, she came around the railing, hurried to Ag, and drew her into her arms.

"No, no -- mustn't cry -- mustn't . . ." She made comforting sounds and smoothed Ag's hair down, then helped her untie the bow. When the clothes had been replaced in the trunk and the lid closed, Lady sank down on it, still gripping Ag's hand.

"G-Gosh," Lew stammered, "we didn't mean to --"

"Oh. Ohh," Lady said, her tone one of relief. She was half laughing and trying to make a joke of it, but we all could see how badly upset she was. "I'm sorry -- I'm sorry -- darling Agnes, Lew, I'm sorry -- I can't imagine what made me --"

She looked from one face to another, then opened her arms and we all crowded around her, and she was still laughing and crying, clutching Ag's hand and patting it. She found her handkerchief and blew her nose, and shook her head aghast at the fierceness of her earlier reaction.

"I'm sorry," she murmured again. "I wondered what had happened to you, and here you were playing ragpicker in the attic."

"I didn't mean to tear the dress," Ag said.

"Darling,
you
didn't, I did. It doesn't matter. It was just an old thing -- it doesn't matter. . . ."

When we found the platter and table pads, and came down from the attic, Ma was at the foot of the stairs. Lady excused herself, saying she wanted to rest before the party, she would set the table later, and when she had gone Ma turned her eye on us.

"All right, what was going on up there?"

We tried to explain what had happened, but Ma would hear none of it. "You've upset Lady, all of you. Now I want you boys to bring in some wood, then go to your rooms and get your schoolwork. Agnes, give me the platter, and bring the pads. Elthea can use some more help in the kitchen. The very idea, going through trunks that don't belong to you." Cautioning us not to make noise, she hurried us downstairs. The party preparations were well underway in the kitchen; Jesse had been polishing the silver, and the good crystal and china had been washed, and there were wonderful smells coming from the oven.

When we went out to the woodpile in the carriage house we found Jesse, in an old sweater, his hunting cap, and rubber boots, carrying a long stick over to the summerhouse. He explained that the heavy weather had ruined the brick walk he'd set down the previous year. He laid the stick across the brickwork, which had heaved in places, sunk in others; then he broke the stick into pieces, drove these stakes along the sides of the walk, and began tying string to them. The walk, he grumbled, would have to be pulled up and reset.

We brought the wood in; then Lew went down cellar with Elthea to fetch relishes and pickles from the cold cellar, and Ma told me to go ask Lady for the tablecloth. I found her on the wicker chaise in her bedroom, having a cup of tea. She said the tablecloth was in the linen closet at the end of the hall but I would need her footstool to stand on to reach it.

In the linen closet, hidden behind the square tin cakebox Lady kept her sewing things in, I made an exciting discovery: Mr. Ott's briefcase! There it was, pushed all the way to the back of the shelf, and, realizing I had been right all the time, I pulled it toward me. I was trying to undo the straps when I heard footsteps on the stairs. It was Elthea coming up. She went into Lady's room, and I quickly replaced the briefcase, grabbed the tablecloth, and ducked out, shutting the door. As I came along the hall, I heard Lady's voice.

"I don't see why, dear."

"He thinks it'd be a bit more tactful," Elthea replied. "With so many people coming."

"But those things have always been there. Why should I rearrange a room --
my
room -- to please others?"

"It's just really pleasing him."

Colonel Blatchley, I decided, had suggested the removal of her shrine for the party, a request Lady took exception to.

She paused, and I heard her moving the things around on her vanity table. "All right. If you think so."

"Thank you. Have a nice nap."

"Thank you, dear. I'll try."

I pretended to be just approaching the door as Elthea came out. She took the tablecloth, but wanted the napkins as well. She went to get them, and I brought the stool back into Lady's room.