When We All Come Round

March 5, 2016

“Mama, you promised you’d come explore Granpa’s attic today! Can we, please?” The whole first five minutes of the relatively short drive was just a constant stream of the same request, before Eddie’s mother could get a word in edgewise. 

“Yes, said we could, why do you think we’re going over there? Granpa said we could, and he’s out of town, so we will.” 

“Yeah!” Eddie pumped her fists in the air. "Finally, I get to see, what’s in the magical world up there,” she sang. Her mother laughed. “It’s really not that magical, unless you would apply that word to a bunch of dusty old things that haven’t been touched in six years.”

“But that is magical, cause they must all have stories that I can discover.” Eddie was rather an imaginative child, and she was just the type to be able to sit in the attic all day, looking at single objects for hours at a time.

When they arrived at the house, Eddie bounced out of her seat before her mother had fully parked the car. She was out of the car immediately, and went straight to the front door where she hopped up and down in excitement, not noticing that her mother couldn’t get to the door because of her. 

Her mother gently pushed her out of the way, and opened the door. Granpa still hadn’t left, so they went to say hello to him. He picked Eddie up and swung her around. Then he turned to her mother.

“Have you tried again?” he asked, ”You were really good, it was very biased of them to not accept yours just because you were only thirteen.” 

“I’m really not that good though…”

“I have to go, your Mother will kill me if I miss her luncheon.” he walked out the door and winked at Eddie who was impatiently doing a jig while waiting for her mother. Her mother was taking her sweet time to turn around, and Eddie danced right in front of her. She faltered when she saw her mother’s face, she was sad, lines etched in her forehead, but her face changed instantly when she saw Eddie. 

“Let’s go upstairs. I’m excited about this.” her smile finally reached her eyes as she reached down to grab Eddie’s hand. 

They walked up the winding staircase together, to what the family called the not-attic. The not-attic was just a spare bedroom that was used for storage, also known as the overflow library. Eddie had seen this so many times when helping her Granpa to make timelines to hang on the walls. She pulled her mother past it and to the stairway up to the attic.

The rickety old stairs were claustrophobic inducing to Eddie, the second her mother closed the door behind them she began to panic. Her mother picked her up and carried her up the stairs to a large, round room. 

Her claustrophobia forgotten, Eddie shrieked in delight and hopped to the floor to examine a giant dollhouse in one corner of the room. Light streamed through the two skylights in the roof, highlighting the dust that flew as Eddie hopped from one thing to another, yelling and laughing. Her mother watched from the staircase, laughing along as Eddie pulled books down and cartons out, and generally made a mess.

“Careful now, Granpa wants everything right back where it was when we found it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be careful,”Eddie responded, just as she dropped a carton on her foot, “Well, maybe I should be a bit more cautious.” her mother laughed.

Eddie noticed that her mother seemed in a rather good mood despite the sourness of earlier. Every smile touched her eyes, making them dance, and when Eddie uncovered a chest of old clothing, she good-naturedly put them on.

There was a full, traditional, 1890’s dress in one partition of the trunk, with petticoats, corsets, everything. It was in a woman’s size, much to Eddie’s despair, but she managed to convince her mother to get it on for a while.

The dress was a slate-blue, with little white flowers embroidered on it. The entire ensemble was hand-stitched by no one but Eddie’s mother herself. Upon learning this bit of information, Eddie immediately started begging for one of her own.

“I’ll wear it every day, all the time!” she shouted, shaking the attic, “Oh please, mommy!”

Her mother raised her eyebrows, but agreed that she would not only make one for Eddie’s very own, but also teach her how to make the thing.

Eddie exhaled sharply as she dragged a small suitcase out from under a Victorian table. “What’s this?” she asked, unzipping it carefully, so that she didn’t break the zipper. She had to tug it gently for quite some time, but she managed to get it open in the end. 

Curious, she picked up a sheet of paper lying on top of the stacks of paper in the suitcase. She read it aloud.

***

The day was bright and clear as Jo stepped out of the cottage, a basket of chicken food under her arm. As she went about her daily chores however, she got the feeling that something was different about today and strange. She finished milking the three cows just as the cock crowed, loud and clear, waking anything for miles. 

A crisp breeze blew over the autumn fields, they were almost ready for harvest. Jo ran to the top of the tallest hill that made the valley in which her family’s little farm sat. She plopped herself down on the grass to watch the sun stretch itself awake and tell everybody that wasn’t awakened by the rooster that it was time to get up. She lay with her arms behind her head, her knees up in the air. Some wispy clouds floated --

***

The page ended there. Eddie looked up at her mother to find that half sad, half angry look on her face again. 

“Who wrote these? They’re so good. They make you feel like you’re watching a movie, or even like you know Jo.” she glanced hopefully at her mother.

“I wrote them, a long time ago. I was your age. I wrote three whole novels before your Granpa let me try to publish them. When I finally did, no publishing house would accept them. They never even wrote back to me with feedback. It broke my heart. Ever since then, I just stick to illustration.”

“But you should try to publish them again, maybe now that you’re an adult, they’ll take you seriously. I know you love telling stories, and you’re obviously great at writing.” she paused, “Hey! I know why they might have rejected them. Maybe because you were so young, they didn’t believe a kid could write that well, so they thought that you plagiarized somebody. I know they won’t accept plagiarism, so maybe that was it!”

Her mother smiled down at her. 

“I don’t think so honey, although you never know.”

“Oh! Here’s the next page of that story, let’s keep reading it, please?” Eddie used her best puppy dog eyes on her mother, but she didn’t need them. 

***

---across the sky, forming strange shapes. A storm piled up to the south, but it would never come to the farm, Jo was positive about that. She felt as though she could grab the clouds like a rope and climb up into the sky.

A strange rumbling noise filled the air, and when she looked to the south, Jo saw that the thundercloud had covered half the distance between where it had been, and the farm. She ran back down the hill, pel-mel, the sunrise gleaming on the golden corn, almost ready to harvest. She could not let the crops be destroyed, her family depe---

***

The slam of the door broke Eddie’s voice off. Granpa and Gramma were home. Eddie moaned when her mother told her to put the pages back.

“Man, I only got to read two paragraphs in.”

“How about we ask Granpa if we can bring the suitcase home?” Her mother seemed more reconciled with the stories than before. 

“Great!”

“Now let’s go down stairs and share our discoveries, shall we?” They hooked their arms together and walked down the tight stairs, Eddie breathing heavily and clutching the handle of the suitcase.

When they got downstairs, the grandparents asked what they had found to their liking. Eddie had draped the dress over the suitcase, was carrying two books tucked under her arm, and her mother had grabbed a couple of the china dolls from the dollhouse. Her mother quietly went over to talk to Granpa, Eddie only caught snatches of the conversation because she was so enthralled by the books and toys.

“...again. But I don’t know…”

“They’ll accept...they have to.”

“Thanks dad, just contact...try to find a...that’ll take me.”

“You might want...an editor...credit that way.”

Eddie abruptly burst out, “Can we stay for dinner mom, and afterwards we’ll read the rest of that page?”

 ***

---nded on them for food, and money. They traded it in the market for blankets and supplies, and they needed to feed the animals as well. Jo burst through the door to tell them, only to stop short when she saw a tall, elegant lady sitting in the best chair. Her hair was soft blue, and it faded into her dress. Both her hair and dress seemed to be made of dark blue water that flowed like a river. Her dress pooled around her, and even had little orange fish jumping in it. She was beautiful in every way, with a bearing like a queen. Jo both loved and hated her instantly. She hated that this woman had apparently taken the throne of the house which was traditionally reserved for her mother, but loved how graceful she looked, the lilting accent that touched her voice, and how she looked imperial but loving at the same time.

***

Eddie looked up at her mother, who was sitting gracefully in the high-backed chair at one end of the table, and at her gramma who sat with a perfectly straight back, not deigning to touch the support of the chair. Eddie thought of how much these wonderful women in her family were like the woman in the story.

“Mama, was this character based on Gramma?” 

“Yes, both she and Jo’s mother are, warm, loving, and yet everlasting with good posture.” She laughed.

“I have an announcement, by the way,” Her mother stared straight at Eddie. “I am going to try to publish that book, and the next two in the series.” Eddie screeched in delight.

***

“I know you somehow.” Jo stared at the woman, “somewhere, a long time ago.”

“Let me remind you then, of our meeting.” The tall woman stood, and glided across the floor to lay her hand on Jo’s upper arm. 

Immediately, Jo accepted a flood of memories that came rushing through as if a dam had broke letting loose a mighty river. Memories of this now all too familiar woman, of laughing with her, being spun in the air by her, playing, dancing, painting, yelling, everything. And then, a memory of herself as a young girl going up to her and saying, “Mother?” 

Then, a memory with painful feelings to it, of the little girl being left to live at a friend’s farm because of the start of the war.

“What war?” asked Jo, her eyes flying open. “And if you are my mother, then why would you leave me here, for so long, and block my memories of you?”

“To keep you safe,” she responded simply, “Because I love you. As for the memories, that was so that nobody could find you. You are powerful beyond anyone’s dreams. You would always have been in danger.” she hugged Jo, tightly, and Jo remembered everything. And she believed that this woman truly was her mother.