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I Think I’ll Avoid the Pond Too
Mom dropped us off this morning with a kiss and a wave. Not only am I not thinking I won’t survive, but I’m wishing there were more hours between 8:30 and 4:30.
Mrs. H. made banana muffins this morning. I haven’t told her that Mom feeds us cold cereal before we come here. I’ve cut back to half a bowl to leave room for Mrs. Hallovich’s food.
I’m on my fourth muffin, slowing down, starting to breathe again between bites. I look around the kitchen. Everything has been freshened up. Even the demon smoke over the fireplace is gone.
“You’ve been busy,” I say.
“I’ve told you it’s no trouble, Dear. I love to bake.”
“Not just that,” I say. “The floors are all shiny and stuff.”
I’m wanting to get to the bottom of something. It hasn’t smelled like a basement since that first day. The wallpaper in the entry has been re-glued, the floors are shiny, and this morning there was even a little sunlight coming in through the stained glass window on the landing. She, or someone else, must work really hard after we go home.
Mrs. H. waves her hands like it’s no big deal. “It’s been so nice having the two of you here. You’ve just inspired me to clean the place up a bit.” She stands and begins to clear the table. Changing the subject she says, “I know this is our last day together, but maybe the two of you can come back and spend some time with me again?”
She says this like she’s afraid to ask. She has this whole big house, with all the neat stuff in it, and nobody to share it with. If I’m being honest, I would love to come back for visits. I think of everything I’ve told Daleni, and I have no idea how I would explain to her why I’d come back just to visit. I’ve talked myself into a corner. Mrs. H. is still waiting hopefully for my answer.
“Sure,” I say. “That would be nice.”
She smiles and her laser-green eyes crinkle at the corners.
“Who did you say is babysitting you for the rest of the summer?”
“Heather Marker. My dad did some landscaping for her family when we got here last summer.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll have a nice time with Heather.”
I nod and shrug my shoulders at the same time - the universal body language for maybe, or sure whatever. Five days ago I thought it was going to be awesome to spend time with a college person. Now it seems uninteresting. What do I have in common with a college person?
Mrs. H. helps Tommy out of his highchair. “Why don’t the two of you go on outside and play in the yard a bit. I have a few things to do, and then I’ll be out to join you.”
“Can we go to the greenhouse?” I ask. I want to see Hubert again before we leave today, and I think I left Treasure Island out there.
“That would be fine. Just keep a close eye on Tommy.”
She didn’t have to tell me that. I’ve been sticking to him like glue lately. I take his hand, and we head to the back door.
“Ella,” she calls. “Stay away from the water.”
“Got it,” I say.
I am flabbergasted by how nice the back yard looks compared to Monday. I don’t even think my dad could’ve gotten all this done with his crew helping. Someone else definitely got the landscape job, and Mrs. H. must be uncomfortable telling us who. With all the work on the inside as well as out here, there’s no way that she and a nephew are doing everything in the evenings.
The bushes that surround the yard are blooming. Not only have weeds been pulled from around the fountain, but the cracks have been repaired so well that it’s like they were never there at all. I step closer to check it out. In the bottom pool, the brown water and muck has been cleaned up. I stand on my tip-toes and see my shiny penny lying at the swan’s feet. Someone cleaned everything up and left my wish behind.
Tommy tugs on my hand, pulling me toward the clearing. The path, between the bushes leading to it, has been cut back, and . . . Holy Smokes! The clearing has bloomed since yesterday! The glass of the greenhouse is reflecting wildflowers everywhere! It’s like stepping into a fairytale. I don’t know why, but all of a sudden it creeps me out. Why is it creeping me out? It’s too perfect. Too perfect, too fast.
Tommy lets go of my hand and takes off to chase a butterfly. I’m standing in paradise, blue sky overhead, birds singing, bees buzzing, and butterflies dancing on flowers. Bambi is going to walk out from the trees with his mom any second, and all I want to do is get Tommy and go back to the house. It’s weird.
“Come on, Tommy!” I call. “Let’s go back!”
But Tommy is focused on the butterfly. He’s getting a little further away from me and I’m starting to feel a chill. Tommy starts running after the butterfly, toward the line of weeping willows.
“Tommy! Get back here!” I shout. I run after him, but he ignores me. “Tommy, I mean it! Right this minute!” I never yell at my baby brother but I’m growing more and more scared.
A cloud passes over the sun. There were no clouds anywhere in the sky just a minute ago. A cold wind kicks up. Tommy has reached the line of weeping willows and, as I get closer to them, they seem bigger and darker than yesterday. Their branches reach the ground, raking the grass underneath. Tommy isn’t that far ahead of me now. I come almost close enough to grab his shirt, but he disappears into the blowing branches. I dive in after him. The wind is more violent, and the willow whips at my arms and legs. I get a sharp lash across my cheek.
“Tommy!” I scream. I don’t want to run him over, but I can barely see. I plow ahead with my right arm covering as much of my face as I can, so a willow branch doesn’t slap one of my eyes out. My left arm reaches forward in search of my brother.
Finally, I pass through to the other side. The wind stops. The sun emerges. The surface of the water is calm. It still looks like a mirror. Tommy is a couple steps in front of me. He turns and smiles like nothing unusual is going on. I kneel down and gather him into a hug. I’m still scared, but at least I’ve got him.
Tommy starts to squirm. He pulls back, looks at me and says, “today.”
I have no idea what he means by this, but it seems to have become his favorite word. I respond. “No, Tommy, not today. It’s time to go.”
He points out onto the water. “Today,” he repeats.
I see something then. About half way out is a small boat. In the boat is a girl. She’s too far away for me to see her features, but I can tell that she’s wearing a simple dress that’s plastered to her skin like she’s been swimming in it. Her wet hair hangs into her face, but I can see her teeth. She’s smiling. She lifts her hand and waves. Tommy waves back.
I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“Let’s go, Bubby.”
Thankfully, this time he listens to me. The wind has disappeared, so we make our way beneath willow branches that hang gently to the ground. When we emerge into the clearing, I can’t see any clouds in the sky, coming or going. The birds sing, the bees buzz, and the beautiful greenhouse reflects everything back.
I’m no longer in the mood to visit Hubert or retrieve my book. Maybe later, during one of our future visits. I just want to get back to Mrs. Hallovich. I’m leading Tommy around the side of the greenhouse when the hairs on the back of my neck begin to rise again. Another cold breeze reaches down into my bones as one of those impossible clouds passes over the sun.
I change my mind. The main house seems a little too far away at the moment. “Let’s go in here for awhile,” I say to Tommy and pull him into the greenhouse.
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