A Magical Summer

They sent me to live with Grandma Violet after my Mom ended up in the psychiatric hospital. She painted our side of the neighbor's house sky blue because she wanted a cheerier view. Then she spent a thousand dollars on art supplies and bought us a first-class one-way ticket to Malaysia. But the last straw fell when she took a dog, who'd been chained to a tree for days. The dog's owner came out, and she gave him an uppercut that Grampa had taught her when she moved into the city. I'm used to her odd choices, but this time she required much more help than her psychiatrist could give her and said she was a danger to herself and others. Yes, she's crazy, but I love her, and I hope and pray they'll sort her out soon.

 Mom's actions seem strange and extreme to most people, but not me. Mom has a tender heart and will do what it takes to rescue a suffering animal. Hers is the only life I know. Usually, it's harmless. I love that she painted tropical murals all over our walls and put astroturf on the floors! We adopted three cats that soon became six, then more, so she used a kiddie pool in the basement for their litter box, and our house never smelled like cat pee. Mom said the plants purified the air, and our house was a virtual rainforest with houseplants of every shape, color, and size! Mom called it our own private jungle. Sometimes she'd play recordings of jungle animals. The lion roaring upset the neighbors and their dog, so she had to turn the sound down. Who will take care of them all now? Yes, she's different, and being Different is a mortal sin in this world.

So, I was put on a plane to Oklahoma. I couldn't take a train because, during prohibition, Oklahoma wouldn't allow liquor served on a train from when the engine entered the state until the caboose left. So, no tracks for Oklahoma. If you wanted to travel by train, you could only get as far as Kansas city and then take a bus to Oklahoma! So, they put me on a plane because a twelve-year-old might get mixed up and lost in all of that.

I've only seen Gran a few times for short summer visits, so I wasn't sure what to expect. When the taxi arrived at 101 Oklahoma Ave, Gran convinced the driver to carry all my bags into the house! I've taken many taxis, and they never do that, so I was impressed. I never saw any money change hands, but he left smiling, which is curious.

"Gran, how did you do that?" I ask her

She opens her arms and says, "Oh, there are good people in this world. Now, give me a hug." As soon as I felt her warmth and love, I relaxed. I realized that I rarely relax because I never know what to expect from Mom, and it's sometimes scary.

Gran is short and plump and reminds me of one of the Fairy Godmothers in Cinderella. Staying with her will be okay after all. I've had worse summer vacations.

Her house is a two-bedroom, one-bath bungalow where she was born and lived all her life. She gave birth to Mom here too! The outside is It's painted white with a bit of black trim. Her yard is like a jungle, too, mostly because of the crape myrtle and wisteria vines. Oklahoma gets very hot in summer, and the plants provide shade to help keep the house cool. Central Air conditioning wasn't even thought of in 1957.

 I follow her to my room, looking at loads of houseplants along the way, and I see where my mother gets her plant mania. 

"I hope you like it, Sugar, I'm sure it's not what you'd choose for yourself, but it's clean and comfy." 

"She takes a key from her apron pocket and opens the door, then puts the key back into her pocket. This is disturbing. "Gran, are you going to lock me in?" 

She chuckles, and her blue eyes twinkle, "No, but sometimes I have this to keep people out."

"Why do you have to keep people out?" I asked.

"I'll tell you all about it, but not now. You must be starving and tired after all that travel. Imagine flying all the way from Pennsylvania!"

She's right, the room is not what I'd choose, but it's light and airy, with sheer white curtains fluttering in the breeze through the large open window facing the back garden. The walls are pale lavender, and she's painted ivy vines here and there on the walls. The bed has a white comforter with violets she embroidered on it, with a large pillow covered the same way. A white antique vanity table with a matching mirror is on one side, and a wardrobe is instead of a closet. 

I walk from my room through the living room, all done in a combo of, I'm not sure what, victorian and gypsy, maybe? It is unique and interesting and makes me feel more at home. Then I went into the kitchen, and it was so cheery! Painted yellow, the color of butter. More plants hang from the ceiling and on the window sill over the sink. 

" I made chicken salad. You used to love it when you were little." Gran said.

"I still do! With celery and apples and pecans?"

"Yes, the only way I make it! And this, too, she set a bowl of fresh strawberries and a pitcher of cream on the table.

"Oh yum!" I never get food like this at home, and Mom's so busy painting and writing or drawing, that I usually make us PBJ sandwiches or tuna salad, canned soup, you know, easy stuff.

After we finish lunch, I unpack and sit on the bed, watching a yellow finch build a nest in the tree outside my window and listening to its mate sing nearby. I see a dark shape at the top of the tree and lean out the window to look closer. It's a crow, and it has something shiny in its beak! I watched it fly over the house and disappear into the back garden.

I take my journal and pen from my purse and settle onto the bed to catch up. So much has happened in the past two days! But a long day and a full tummy soon put me to sleep.

Gran taps me on the shoulder and says, "Penny, I hate to wake you, but it's dinner time! You had quite a nap. Are you hungry?"

I sit up and stretch, "Oh, Gran, I'm sorry. I don't usually take naps anymore."

"It's fine, traveling is exhausting, and I'm sure you needed the rest."

I follow her into the kitchen, and she sets a bowl of homemade chicken soup and a small plate of freshly baked bread that smells so good my mouth literally waters! She brings 2 glasses of lemonade and her own soup and sits down to join me. "Oh, Gran, this looks and smells so good. I hope you're not going to too much trouble." 

"No, I cook this way for myself, so making a little extra is easy, and it's nice to have someone to cook for."

I help her clean up the kitchen and then go to the back door to explore her garden. But when I push the screen door, something blocks it. I look down and see a basket of veggies sitting on the porch, and I bring it in and show Gran. 

"Oh, how nice!" she says, taking out leeks, a bunch of fresh parsley, and a bouquet of violets."

"Who are they from, Gran?"

Her face crinkled into a question mark, "I'm not sure. Maybe Mrs. Olson across the street."

Exploring Gran's back garden was very much like my Mom's Jungle. I saw an ornate stone birdbath and walked closer. The water was clean, and I noticed something shiny in the bottom. I dipped my hand into the water and picked up a gold earring! Not the clip-on kind most women wear, and it had a wire where the clip should be. SQWAKKKK!!! This startled me, and I looked at the large crepe myrtle, and there was the crow!

"I'm sorry, Mr. Crow, are you thirsty?" I said softly. But he just sat on the branch, turning his head back and forth and watching me. I said, "I'm Penny." Then Mr. Crow made a little squawk and flew away!"

I carried it inside and showed Gran. She said, "Oh, how pretty! That's probably from Ed."

"Ed?"

"Yes, he's been coming here for years, and I put peanuts out for him, and he brings me thank you gifts. I named him Ed after Mr. Poe, the writer. Here, look." She opened a tea tin; inside were buttons, a few beads, and a little key!

One night voices woke me. The bathroom is between the bedrooms, so I walked in there, where I could see the kitchen table.

Gran said, "Just put a few drops of this in his morning coffee, Alice, and it will be alright."

I heard another woman sniffling and say, "Thank you, Violet." Then she started crying.

"Here, take these tea leaves and make yourself a cup before bed. No sugar or honey, and it's bitter, but drink it all, and you'll sleep like a happy baby." Gran said and handed her a little paper envelope.

I listened to two chairs scrape and the back screen door whine open.

"It's good there's a full moon tonight, and it will make it easy to find your way!" Gran said.

I hurried back to my bed, feeling like a snoop, but I wondered what that was all about.

A few days later, as we sat on the porch swing, I looked up at the ceiling and noticed it was blue, like the sky. "That's pretty," I said.

"I know, isn't it? It's been that color for over a hundred years! According to my Mother, it's supposed to keep evil spirits or ghosts out. Something about ghosts won't cross water, and the blue confuses them. But I'm not sure. It's been so long.

A few nights later, I heard voices from the kitchen again, so I crept into the bathroom and listened.

"Jenny keeps hiding in her bedroom, Violet." I don't know why she's so unhappy, she was never like this when she was little. But since she never goes rollerskating or plays hopscotch with her friends. No jump rope either, and she loved that."

Gran held up her hand and said, let me think. After a minute or two, she asked, "Do you have any new neighbors?"

"I don't think so," the woman said. "Why?"

Gran said, "Check around your neighborhood. I see a boy, he's large and a bully. He might be scaring Jenny or threatening to harm you or your baby." Then she handed the woman a necklace with three stones and said, have her wear this at all times. If she doesn't like it, she can wear it under her clothes or keep it in her pocket."

The woman said, "Well, I don't know, this seems strange, Daisy."

"I know, but try it, okay?" Gran patted the woman's hand.

"All right, thank you. I wasn't going to come here, but one of my bridge club friends sent me, and she doesn't want me to share her name."

"I understand," Gran said. 

The woman took several bills from her purse, but Gran said, "No, I never take money. It's all right, but let me know what happens?"

I'd been with Gran for two months, and one day, the phone rang, which didn't happen often. Gran was in the back garden, so I answered it. The cab driver who brought me from the airport said to tell Gran that the rabbit had died. That seemed weird, but so did a lot of things at Grans. 

I ran out and told her what he said, and she said, "OH! How wonderful!!"

I didn't even bother to ask.

Gran took me to town for some new clothes. The ones I had were heavy and hot for Oklahoma's summer weather. She bought me two pairs of shorts, three light short-sleeved tops, and new underwear. She let me choose colors, and yellow and green are my favorites. While shopping, two women looked at Gran and started whispering, then left.

Another woman opened the door and saw Gran and backed out!

When we got home, I asked Gran what that was about, and she said, 'Well, like your Mama, I'm a little different too, but not in the same way, and some people don't understand." She carried our packages into my room, and she sat on the bed and patted it, and I sat next to her.

"I may as well tell you because you're different, well, special too. Remember when the cab driver said 'the rabbit' died?"

"Yeah, that was sad," I said.

"Well, there's test doctors do to find out if a woman is expecting, you know, a baby?"

"No, but what is it?"

Gran said, "I'm not sure how it works scientifically, but they take a blood sample and inject it into a rabbit, and if the rabbit dies, you're pregnant!"

"That's terrible. Why do they have to kill a rabbit?"

"I don't know, sweetheart, but I'm sure they'll find a kinder way to find out someday."

She told me that she was sometimes called a witch, but she wasn't. That's why people come to see her in the middle of the night. They don't want others to know they believe in Gran. She gives advice and sometimes potions or herbal blends. She said she sees things other people don't see, like the bully that moved into the house behind little Jenny. I do what I can to help. I never take money, but people secretly insist on bringing me gifts, and I accept them. That's why I have locks on the bedroom doors. Years ago, a group of church people ransacked my house, looking for stuff to do with the devil and the like. That was long ago, but I still lock the doors at night. That's why you have a key if you need to get out.

"I sometimes listen to your visitors during the night," I confessed.

She smiled and said, "I know, it's fine, and it might help you understand when you start to notice things, and I'll help you learn. You shouldn't start too young because sometimes magic can backfire if you don't know what you're doing."

"Magic!"

That's what some folks call what I do. But I don't cast spells or do anything harmful. It's just the way I am. Sometimes it's a blessing, and other times it's a curse. I believe that's why you were sent to me. These powers are always passed down from grandmother to granddaughter. So, you're the next particular 'magical' person in the family!