"We should heat it up. but I bet you're like me, too hungry to wait for that and for us to set the table in the dining room. Let's just eat cold chicken in here and pretend we're eating in there." she said and sat at the kitchen table. "Oh, do get us knives and forks. dear."
I knew where they were and did so. I got us some napkins as well, and she began to eat as if she hadn't for days. I watched her a moment, then sat and began to eat myself. It was good and we did enjoy it. As strange as it had all been, I couldn't say I wasn't having fun. I really didn't mind pretending. After all, like her. I hadn't had many close friends to have over and play imaginary games, Grandmother Emma had been very strict about whom we could bring to the house.
Ian certainly hadn't pretended and played anything with me unless it had had an educational reason. Ian hadn't minded our being alone. He'd been happy being by himself, but there had been many times when I'd wished I'd had someone sleep over.
Great-aunt Frances took out the ice cream and two bowls before I was finished eating. She brought it to the table with two spoons and began to scoop it out. At Grandmother Emma's house, we never ate dessert before everyone was finished with his or her meal and those dinner plates were removed. Of course, we didn't have a maid to serve us dinner here, but still. I would think Great-aunt Frances knew that. Hadn't she been taught the same manners taught to Grandmother Emma?
I quickly rose and took her plate and mine to the sink, where I scraped off the dishes the way Nancy always did before she placed them in the dishwasher.
"Just leave that now," Great-aunt Frances said. "We don't have to do anything until we want to do it."
I returned to the table, and she pushed my bowl of ice cream to me and smiled.
She ate hers as quickly as she had eaten her dinner. I wasn't even half finished with mine before she was done,
"Isn't this fun?" she asked. Before I could answer she said, "I wonder who we'll be tomorrow. If you have anyone you want to be, don't hesitate to tell me and I'll arrange it for us. okay?"
I shrugged. "I don't know," I said.
"Don't you worry one bit. I have closets and closets full of people," she told me. "We can pluck a princess off a hanger any time we want."
She laughed. I had to smile. What a funny, wonderful idea: pluck a princess off a hanger. I started to clean up for us, but she insisted we leave
everything in the sink. She said she was too tired to wash and dry dishes, even though we didn't have very many, and besides, there was a program on television she didn't want to miss. She made me go with her to the living room, but not ten minutes into watching her show, she fell asleep in her chair and began to snore. I returned to the kitchen and washed and dried the dishes and silverware. I put it all away, cleaned the table, then went back to the living room.
Great-aunt Frances was still asleep and still snoring. I was thinking that now I would go up and start to read Ian's letters.
"Hey!" I heard coming from the hallway. I looked out and saw Alanis standing in the open basement doorway. She was wearing her hat, a black camisole and jeans. "C'mon. She's not going to wake up until much later,"
I looked back at Great-aunt Frances. Her head was tilted to the side and she was breathing through her slightly open mouth now,
"C'mon," Alanis called again in a loud whisper.
"What are we going to do?" I asked when I joined her.
She turned to show me a bottle of whiskey and a pack of cigarettes stuck inside her waist.
"Let's have a private party," she said. "I promise. It will be better than the one you were just at. This one will be real!"
She laughed and disappeared down the stairway. I looked back toward the living room.
Great-aunt Frances was right. There was no one here to tell me what to do or when to do it. No rules hung above our heads. There were no tattletales in the corners, and even if there had been, who would they have reported to now? Certainly no one would have gone to Grandmother Emma or my father.
I was excited about this new freedom, but it was confusing, too. because I felt as if all the strings that had tied me to everyone I knew were now untied and I was floating with no idea where I would go.
Would I drift into the world in which Greataunt Frances lived? Would I have to pretend for the rest of my life to be happy? My mother's voice would continue to fade.
Even Ian's words were drifting away.
I had gone much further from who I had been than I ever dreamed I would.
Who would I become?
5
Turning the Tables
.
I followed Alanis to the basement living room, where she sat down on the old sofa, put the whiskey bottle and cigarettes on the table, then turned on a small portable radio. She found the station she wanted and smiled at me.
"Don't worry. She won't hear anything with that television going upstairs. She never does. C'mon. Sit down already." She laughed, pulling her legs up and folding them under her. You sure look silly in that dress. Why did you put it on?"
I went to the chair. It was as dusty dawn here as it had been upstairs. I thought, but Alanis didn't seem to mind or care.
"My great-aunt asked me to. She wanted us to pretend."
"Why would a grown woman ask you to do that? I told you she's bonkers. Aren't you afraid of living here with her?"
I shook my head. What was there to fear? So far, it looked only like fun.
"Couldn't your father keep you?"
"He said my grandmother was right. He wouldn't be able to look after me properly because he was in the wheelchair."
"Like your great-aunt can?"
"I don't know," I said. I could feel myself crumbling inside. She was right. There was so much I didn't understand. Tears were gathering to charge out of my eyes.
Alanis saw she was pushing me over an emotional cliff.
"Well, you'll have more fun here, so don't worry about it," she said, then she leaped off the sofa and started to dance to the music, "You dance?"
I shook my head.
'Don't worry. I'll teach you some great steps.' She stopped and reached for the pack of cigarettes on the table. "Neat, huh?" she said, looking around as she pounded a cigarette out of the pack. "It's just like having your own apartment. I discovered it by accident one day when I was bored. You ever smoke?"
"No. Ian says it's really bad for you."
"Ian says this Ian says that. Sounds to me like Ian's a drag. Except," she said, pausing in lighting her cigarette, "if what you told me he did to that minder is true, he sure is weird enough to make me want to know more about him."
She lit her cigarette and squinted as the smoke reached her eyes. She waved the air in front of her face, then coughed.
"Your body's telling you not to do it," I said, recalling a time Ian pointed out exactly that. We'd been watching some kids smoking in the mall, and when some of them had coughed, he'd said. "See?"
"That so? What's your body tell you not to do?" she snapped back at me. I could see she didn't like being told anything. "Your body tell you to put on that silly dress and pretend you're living on some beautiful Southern plantation instead of this dumpy house?"
"No. I told you I did it because Great-aunt Frances wanted us to have fun."
"Yeah, right, have fun. You know lots of times. I seen her walking about talking aloud as if she was walking with someone. This ain't the first time I seen her wearing funny clothes either. Why. once..." She puffed on her cigarette and blew the smoke behind her. "Once, she laid out a blanket and had herself a good old picnic, blabbering away as if there were a dozen people with her. And there were nights when she lit candles all aver the house acting like electricity hadn't been invented yet or something. She made my granddaddy buy her some oil that burns in them oldtime lamps she has. too. I see her through the window, playing her old music and dancing as if some man was holding her in his arms.
"My mother says she should be in a mental institution. She says one of these days she'll
burn down the house or something. Just wait and see. That's why I think it's weird your grandmother sent you here to live with her. You better keep your eyes and nose open all the time," she said, waving her lit cigarette at me. "One night you'll wake up and find yourself dead."
She paused to puff again.
"How can you wake up and be dead at the same time?" I asked her.
"It's just something my granddaddy says. You know what I mean. It'll be too late. Ain't you got any other relatives to live with?"
"I have an uncle, but he lives far away and he has his own children. I haven't seen him for a long time. I forgot what he looks like," I added. "Besides. I don't want to go very far away. My mother will be getting better and come home soon to get me and take me home."
She shrugged. "Maybe." She opened the bottle of whiskey, took a sip and offered it to me. I shook my head.
"Ian says this is bad too. huh?"
"I tasted wine once. I didn't like it."
"Yeah, well this tastes better and makes you feel good and happy." To illustrate, she took another drink and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. Then she took another puff of her cigarette. She started to dance again. "You like this music?"
"It's all right," I said. I didn't really like it.
"I need a new CD player. The one I have is Chad's and he's going to want it back when I give him his walking papers." She puffed her cigarette and continued to dance.
"Won't Great-aunt Frances smell the smoke?" I asked. I imagined she would think the house had caught on fire and when she found us down here, she would be very angry.
Grandmother Emma not only forbade anyone to smoke in her house: she didn't let them smoke on her grounds. She said once the smoke gets into the furniture and walls, you might as well move out. It was why she hated to go to the cabin at the lake. My grandfather and his friends used to smoke cigars there.
"You kidding? With all the stink upstairs, she wouldn't know the difference if she did smell it. Anyway, I seen her smoke once."
"Really?"'
Grandmother Emma would never, ever smoke. How could they be so different?
"She had one of these long cigarette holders and she was wearing a silly hat with a feather and walking and talking down by the pond."
Alanis thought a moment, then put out the cigarette by squashing it on a plate. Then she sat and leaned back with her arms spread over the top of the sofa, "Okay, so tell me what your brother said about that puberty thing?"
"Precocious puberty."
"What's precocious?"
"Ian told me precocious means developing sooner than you're supposed to. He said he was precocious, but in a different way."
"How's that?"
"He was smarter and more mature than boys his age were supposed to be."
"Doesn't sound like something bad,"
"He didn't say it was for him. Anyway, the doctor said I'd be all right," I added with emphasis.
"But my mother was still worried what my grandmother might think, but that was something different."
"What?'"
I shrugged. "She was worried I was too young to be able to have a baby and I could get into trouble. That's what Ian said."
"Ian, Ian," Alanis muttered and drank some more whiskey. She stared at me a moment. "Is he funny-looking? Big ears or something?'"
"No. Ian's very handsome. Lots of girls wanted him to be their boyfriend, but he wasn't interested."
"Why not? He gay. likes boys more than girls?"
"No. He said the girls were stupid. He used bigger words. words I can't remember. too. He always says he has no time to waste on stupidity."
"Yeah, well it sounds like he's wasting plenty of time where he's at. He can't be that smart if he got caught."
She sat thinking for a few moments, then she took another sip of her whiskey and sat back again, this time turning the radio volume down.
"So you had a period then?"
I nodded.
"Damn," she said. ""Granddaddy would say you're armed for bear."
"I don't know what that means,"
"Your doctor say you could get pregnant. right?"
I nodded and began to explain it the way Ian had explained it to me.
"You have a period when you're making eggs and--"
"I know all that stuff" she said, waving her hand. Then she laughed. "Can you imagine being a mother? You probably still play with dolls yourself."
"No. I don't. I'm not a baby."
"You were acting like it with your great-aunt, pretending like two children."
"I told you. We were just having fun. Maybe she wanted me not to be sad."
"Right." Alanis stared at me again. "Boys I know ain't gonna believe you're just seven. girl. They'll think you were left back for sure."
"I wasn't,"
"How old does your great-aunt think you are?"
"I'm sure she knows I'm seven," I said even though I wasn't
"Sometimes, I don't think she knows the time of day," she said and drank again from her bottle.
"She said she doesn't care about time, except when it comes to her television shows."
"Lucky her. You're not gonna tell her about me and you being down here and you didn't tell her about me down here with Chad, right?"
I shook my head.
"Good. Let's keep it all a secret. okay? You good at keeping secrets?"
I nodded. "There were lots of things Ian told me not to tell anyone. and I never did."
"I bet he told you lots of things. Whatever he told you, you can tell me."
I shook my head.
"No. Ian wouldn't like it."
"You'll tell me stuff and I'll tell you stuff," she said confidently. "We'll be best friends, and best friends don't keep secrets from each other, otherwise they wouldn't be best friends. right?"
"I suppose," I said. although I didn't like the idea of betraying Ian.
"You have a best friend back home, someone you had over and had you over?"
"No. Grandmother Emma wouldn't let me have anyone stay over,"
"She sounds like a real winner, too. Sure you don't want to just taste this?" She held up the bottle. "You don't taste it, you won't ever know if you like it." She kept it up, holding it toward me. "You don't have to be afraid doing anything with me. I wouldn't tell. It would just get me into bigger trouble. Go on," she urged, jerking the bottle toward me. "You can't know how good something is if you don't try it. right?"
I saw she wasn't going to be satisfied until I did try it. so I slipped out of the chair and took it and stood there looking at it.
"Just take a sip. girl. It won't turn you into stone or something."
I did. It burned my throat and I spit. She laughed and took back the bottle.
"Don't worry about it. That's just what it does the first time. You'll get used to it."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why would I want to?"
"You won't know why for sure until you drink more of it," she said. She smiled, "Then you'll thank me."
She took another sip from the bottle to show me how much she enjoyed it. I looked toward the stairway. It was getting late. and I wondered if Greataunt Frances had woken up and realized I wasn't there by now. I really wanted to start reading Ian's letters. too. Alanis saw how fidgety I was.
"Relax. We don't have no curfew. My mother's at work and my granddaddy's already asleep himself, just like your great-aunt. We're on our own." she said, smiling. "It's early and we're just starting to have some fun, right?"
It was interesting talking to her, but nothing was really any fun to me yet. However. I nodded and sat again. I was getting tired. but I was afraid to say so. It had been a long day for me, so long it seemed more like a week. My body felt as if I had ridden a roller coaster because I'd had so many ups and downs emotionally and I'd had to fight continuously to keep my tears under lock and key.
"We can have a lot of fun together, more fun than you would ever have back at that mansio
n." Alanis leaned forward. "Are you rich. too? I mean, do you have your own money?"
"No. I don't have any money."
She grimaced. "Don't give me that."
"I don't."
"Don't you get an allowance or something?"
I shook my head.
"They didn't give you money when they sent you here?"
"No."
"What if you want to buy something?"
"Everything is bought for me. It was always that way."
"Damn. Well, maybe there's a way you can get some money when we need it. My mother thinks your treat-aunt must have a fortune buried or hidden somewhere in this house. Your grandmother has an account set up so my granddaddy can buy or charge things that are needed, but he can't get money out of it. Wait," she said after taking another sip from her bottle of whiskey. "I got an idea. You'll need money for things in school, you know?"
"What things?"
"Lunch, for starters, unless she prepares some for you. which I doubt. Tell her you need ten dollars a day. She won't know the difference."
"What will I do with it?"
"What will you do with it? You kidding? We'll buy stuff. like the booze and music and cigarettes and magazines. This is our clubhouse. We don't want to invite boys over unless we have stuff. right?"
I shrugged. "What boys?"
"Boys, boys. Damn. Don't you want a boyfriend now?"
"No, but I would like a girlfriend who could stay over," I said.
"A girl to stay over? I don't know what girl's going to want to stay over here. Maybe we'll invite some girls to our clubhouse, but we have to be very careful who we invite. We don't want no
blabbermouth here telling people about what we have and what we do. introduce you to my best friends."
"What will we do here?"
"Lots of stuff. Look," she said, getting frustrated with me. as Ian often did. "Don't worry about it for now. I'll educate you as we go along. Believe me, you're going to have more fun than you ever had, than you ever dreamed you would have. You're in good hands when you're with Alanis King."
"Your name is Alanis King?"
"Yeah, although since Daddy run off. Mama's been talking about calling ourselves Marshall. I'm kinda used to Alanis King. Changing our names is like burying him."