The Doll In The Garden Part 4

Things were the same and not the same. Like someone in a story, had I followed a white cat into another world? Suddenly afraid I'd never see my mother again, I backed away from Louisa.

"Oh, don't go, please don't go, Ashley." Louisa stood up and clutched my arm. Her hands were icy cold, and her white dress brushed against me as soft as cobwebs. "I'm so lonely. Carrie never plays with me anymore, and I miss Mama and Papa so much."

s...o...b..ll circled my legs, meowing, as if he, too, meant to keep me in the garden.

"I'll let you play with my dolls," Louisa said. "Look, here they are." She pointed into the wicker carriage.

Two worn rag dolls sat at each end, facing each other, their heads hanging.

"I used to have another doll," Louisa said. "Her face was china and her hair was the same color as mine. Papa bought her on his last trip to Germany, and I loved her more than anything. Not just because she was beautiful but because Papa gave her to me before he died."

"Your father is dead?" Forgetting to be afraid, I looked into Louisa's eyes and saw the terrible sadness. Sadness like mine, sadness like Mom's.

"He died last fall, and Mama died the year before. Now Aunt Viola takes care of me." Louisa bent over the doll carriage and picked up one of the dolls. "Would you like to play with this one? Her name is Elfrieda."

I took the doll, and Louisa lifted the other from the carriage. "This is Marguerite," she said. "She's the oldest, that's why she looks so poorly. When I was younger, I fed her jam and tea and stained her face and dress."

Louisa began to cough again. She sank down on the bench, but I stood where I was, clutching the doll. "Have you been to the doctor?" I asked her. "Are you taking medicine?"

"Of course," Louisa said, "but I know I have consumption. Mama and Papa died of it, and so will I. Aunt Viola pretends I'll soon be well and strong, but I'm growing worse, not better. That's why Carrie never comes to play anymore. She's afraid."

I squeezed Elfrieda tighter. "But n.o.body dies of consumption nowadays," I said.

Louisa stared at me. "You must be a very ignorant girl," she said. "Surely you know better than that."

I bit my lip, and my heart thumped faster and harder against my ribs. "There must be something you can do," I whispered. "A different doctor, a hospital, medicine."

"No," Louisa said. "I heard the doctor talking one day in the parlor with Aunt Viola. He told her my lungs were so weak I'd die before autumn."

While I tried to think of something to say, Louisa bent her head over Marguerite and rocked her gently, crooning a little lullabye.

"Aren't you scared?" I let myself ask the question and then stepped back, horrified by what I'd said.

"Of dying?" Louisa looked up at me. "A little, but I'll be with Mama and Papa, Ashley." Then she smiled at me. "Don't run away like Carrie. Stay with me a while."

She patted the bench beside her, and I sat down next to her. From the carriage, she took out a doll-sized set of china and pretended to make tea for Elfrieda and Marguerite. Although I hadn't played make-believe with dolls for a long time, I joined the game, and as the minutes pa.s.sed, I almost forgot where I was.

When a voice called from the house, I was so startled I nearly dropped the tiny teacup I was holding to Elfrieda's mouth.

"That's my Aunt Viola," Louisa sighed. "It's time for me to go inside." Taking Elfrieda from me, she laid her and Marguerite in the carriage and gathered up the china.

"Will you give Carrie a message?" Louisa asked me.

"Where does she live?"

"Right there, in that house." Louisa pointed next door at Miss Cooper's house. "You must know her. She's ten years old, just about your size, and she has freckles like you. Her hair's long and brown like yours but she usually has a blue ribbon in it."

I shook my head, terribly confused. "Do you mean Kristi?"

"No." Louisa frowned. "You must find Carrie and you must tell her to bring Anna Maria back. She's had her ever so long. If she knew how much I miss her, she'd give her to me. I know she would."

Aunt Viola called again, louder this time. "Louisa, come inside at once. You know the night air is bad for you."

"I must go," Louisa said. "Please, will you come and play with me again, Ashley?"

"Yes," I whispered, "if I can"

"Just follow s...o...b..ll," Louisa said. "He knows the way."

"And I'll bring Anna Maria," I called after her. "I promise I will."

Louisa turned and smiled. "That would make me very happy."

Wanting to tell her more, I tried to follow Louisa down the path, but s...o...b..ll tangled himself around my feet and forced me toward the hedge. He let me pause long enough to see Louisa climb the steps toward the tall figure of her aunt waiting by the door. While I watched, Louisa turned and blew me a kiss before the door closed. Then, at s...o...b..ll's insistence, I stumbled through the narrow gap into the blinding sunlight of Miss Cooper's backyard.

Chapter 10.

Kristi's Revenge FOR A FEW SECONDS I felt as if I had just stepped out of a dark movie theater into the blazing noontime sun. I could barely see, and I was so dizzy I had to sit down. The world spun, and I clung to the gra.s.s, nauseated.

Gradually the trees stopped swaying, and I could look around me without feeling sick. I saw the stairs to our apartment, I saw the tree in Kristi's yard, I saw Mom's car in the driveway - all the familiar things whose presence I'd taken for granted until s...o...b..ll led me away from them. I was back, and to my relief nothing was changed.

I took a deep breath and looked behind me at the hedge. Its leaves fluttered in the breeze and from somewhere in its green depth a chorus of locusts droned. Cautiously I stood up and peered through a gap in the branches.

I saw no house, no garden, no Louisa - just a field grown tall with weeds, the same field I saw whenever I looked out my window. Rubbing my eyes hard with my fists, I looked again, half expecting to see the house take shape, but the field kept its secrets. Queen Anne's lace swayed where the roses had grown, black-eyed Susans and day lilies bent their heads where the bench had been. Instead of Louisa, a b.u.t.terfly hung in the air between me and the elm tree which once sheltered her house.

Had I been dreaming after all? I shook my head. Louisa had been as real as Kristi. I'd felt her hand on my arm, her white dress had brushed against my leg, I'd held Elfrieda in my arms. It had all happened, I was positive.

As a car roared down the street, I forced myself to push through the hedge again. I had to find Louisa, I had to tell her I knew where Anna Maria was. And somehow, like it or not, I had to return the doll to her. She needed her more than I did, more than Kristi did, more than Carrie ever had.

This time, nothing changed when I stepped into the field. The sun shone as brightly as ever, the heat pressed down on me, and the weeds stayed weeds.

I called Louisa's name softly, but there was no answer except the twitter of birds and the rustle of leaves. The sound of my voice seemed to linger in the air, small and sad. I walked farther into the field, pus.h.i.+ng my way through waist-high pokeberry bushes, seeking the spot where Louisa's house had stood.

All I found was the foundation, its sides crumbling away. It was almost completely hidden by bushes and clumps of honeysuckle, but it proved a house had stood here once; I hadn't imagined it. Peering into the damp darkness, I called s...o...b..ll, but he, too, seemed to have vanished.

Finally, with gnats humming around my head, I gave up my search. I'd have to wait for s...o...b..ll, I decided. As Louisa had told me, he knew the way to her world and back again to mine.

Slowly, kicking my way through the weeds, I started toward the street, but before I reached the sidewalk, I saw Miss Cooper and Max walking toward me.

"You," she called to me, "come here this minute."

Although I felt like running in the opposite direction, I knew Miss Cooper would simply complain to Mom again or, worse yet, she'd call up the real estate agent and demand our eviction. Thinking it would be better for me to face her myself, I joined her on the sidewalk.

"I saw you poking around that old foundation. Don't you know it's dangerous to play in places like that?" Miss Cooper bent toward me, her face level with mine. This close, she reminded me of a snapping turtle I'd seen once. Like his, her eyes were small and red rimmed, kind of yellowy and deeply hooded, and her chin vanished in folds of wrinkled skin.

"I can take care of myself," I told her, trying hard not to sound sa.s.sy.

"There're snakes in that hole," Miss Cooper informed me. "Copperheads."

"I didn't see any."

"You take my word for it, missy, and stay away from there." She shook her head grimly, taking in my whole appearance. Her eyes lingered on my skinned knees and then moved down to focus on my bare feet.

"Girls today have no manners," she said. "No upbringing. They don't know the meaning of respect. They just run wild. If you were my daughter, I'd never let you out in public looking like you do."

Leaving me too angry to speak, Miss Cooper gave Max's leash a sharp tug and the two of them went off down the street.

Not knowing what else to do, I dragged myself home through the summer heat. As I climbed the steps, I thought I saw Kristi in her treehouse, but when I called to her, she didn't answer. I was sure she was crouching behind the leaves, watching me, still mad about Anna Maria. I wondered what she'd say if I told her where I'd been and what I'd seen.

"Where's Kristi today?" Mom asked later while we were having lunch.

"I don't know." To avoid saying more, I took a big bite of my peanut b.u.t.ter and jelly sandwich, but it stuck to my throat and I had to wash it down with lemonade. I wanted to tell Mom about Anna Maria and my fight with Kristi; even more, I wanted to tell her about s...o...b..ll and Louisa and the amazing thing I'd done, but I didn't know how to begin or what to say. It was all so strange I could hardly believe it myself.

"You didn't quarrel, did you?" Mom finished her yogurt and b.u.t.tered a piece of raisin bread while she waited for me to answer.

"She's only seven years old," I said after I'd choked down the last of my sandwich.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"I'm almost eleven," I reminded Mom. "I don't like playing with babies."

Pus.h.i.+ng back my chair, I took my plate and gla.s.s to the sink. "Do you want me to wash the dishes so you can get back to your typing?" I asked Mom.

"Are you changing the subject, Ash?" Mom stood up, too, but as she pa.s.sed the window she glanced down into the yard.

"There's Krisd now," she said, "talking to Miss Cooper."

I ran to the window Sure enough, Kristi and Miss Cooper were standing in the driveway under Kristi's treehouse. While I watched, Krisd pointed to the garden and she and Miss Cooper set off across the lawn. As they disappeared into the shrubbery, I felt my knees go weak.

Mom turned to me. "What on earth are they doing?"

I bit my lip hard as they came back into sight. Kristi was still talking, trotting along beside Miss Cooper, but the old woman was ignoring her. In Miss Cooper's hand was Anna Maria's empty box, and she was looking up at me, her face clenched like a wrinkled fist.

Chapter 11.

Miss Cooper's Demand MOM LOOKED AT ME. "Ashley, what have you done now?"

"Nothing," I whispered as I listened to Miss Cooper's feet thump slowly up our stairs.

Mom went to the door and opened it just as Miss Cooper stepped onto the porch.

"That girl," the old woman said to Mom, "took something of mine and I want it back!" She was out of breath from the climb to our apartment, but her eyes bored into me with such anger I drew back frightened.

Mom turned to me. "Ashley?"

"I didn't take anything of hers," I said.

Miss Cooper shoved the empty box under my nose. "Where's my doll?"

"I don't know." I wasn't used to lying, and my voice sounded like someone else's, weak and trembly, almost a whisper.

"You're lying, missy! You stole her and hid her away somewhere, and I want her back." Again Miss Cooper was eye to eye with me, and I felt like a bird facing a snake.

"Miss Cooper," Mom said, "please tell me what you're accusing Ashley of."

The old woman swung her head toward Mom. "There was a doll in this box, a valuable antique doll, and your girl stole it."

"A doll?" Mom sounded confused.

"In the garden," Miss Cooper said. "My garden where I told them they had no right to play. But she and that Smith child, they went in there and tore things up, flowers and all, just destroyed everything, and this one stole the doll."

"Ashley, is this true?" Mom's face was pale, and her eyes probed mine.

"We were fixing the garden up," I told Mom, "making a place to play. We didn't pull up anything but weeds." I started crying then, I couldn't help it. If Miss Cooper got her hands on Anna Maria, I'd never be able to return her to Louisa.

Mom put her arm around me, and I pressed my face against her side, ashamed of my tears. I hadn't cried for a long time, not since Daddy first got sick.

"Don't you hide behind your mother!" Miss Cooper's voice rose angrily.

Just then the telephone rang in the living room. "Excuse me," Mom said as she went to answer it.

"Give me what's mine!" Miss Cooper hissed at me.

"She's not yours," I sobbed, "she's Louisa's!"

Miss Cooper stepped backward so fast she almost stumbled over Oscar. "What did you say?" she gasped.

"I said she's Louisa's doll." I stared at the old woman, puzzled. What did she want with a doll anyway? And how did she even know about her? Unless she'd buried her there herself. My hand flew to the old sc.r.a.p of paper in the pocket of my shorts, but I didn't need to look at it. I knew who had signed the letter.

In the silence, I stared at Miss Cooper. "You're Carrie," I whispered, sure I was right. "You're the one who stole the doll, not me!"

Miss Cooper grabbed for the edge of the table. Her face was white and her mouth sagged open. Trembling, she sank down on a kitchen chair.

At that moment Mom came back into the room. "Are you all right?" she asked the old woman.