Gardens in the Dunes (26 page)

Hattie rode her first pony up and down the beach to watch as workmen dug foundations and great freight wagons pulled by giant shires delivered cut stone and new bricks to the construction sites. She was not allowed to go near or to speak to strangers, so she kept her pony at a distance from the workmen, but on summer evenings at sundown when the construction sites were empty, she rode her pony through the stacks of lumber and
bricks, curious about the construction. She jumped her pony over the trenches dug for the garden maze as the new house was built near theirs, the house of Mr. and Mrs. Colin James, as fate decreed. Like Hattie's father, Susan James sought the old farmland for its fertility, which was crucial in her architect's plan for grand Renaissance gardens.

Indigo never imagined trees could grow as big and tall as the trees towering above the road on either side. She leaned out the window of the coach to marvel at their girth and to try to see the treetops; up ahead, at the end of the tree-lined drive, she saw a tall building of gray stone with a long porch all around, its stone pillars entwined with masses of pale pink flowers. As the coach slowed to a stop, Indigo was amazed to see the climbing rose swallowed up the entire front of the doorway; just as she was about to ask Hattie the name of the rose, the coach stopped and the big front doors of the house swung open, and out came two women followed by a man. Indigo took a step back behind Hattie, where she could not be seen.

They were all talking at once in loud, excited voices. She was relieved the strangers did not notice her as they crowded into the coolness of the entry hall. As she walked behind Edward and Hattie she couldn't help but notice the highly polished wood floor; quickly she reached down to touch the dark wood, hard and smooth as glass.

The air inside the house was not unpleasant or stale, but absorbed a subtle odor Indigo soon learned to identify as old furniture and old books. She was glad her slippers were soft and went lightly across the floor so that no one seemed to notice her. The rooms were not much bigger than those of the California house, but the interior was very different; here the walls were paneled in dark wood. The great tall windows were dressed in pine green velvet draperies that swept down from the carved wood lintels to within an inch of the floor.

They moved through the entryway past the massive oak staircase to the front parlor, where there was much more light from tall stained-glass windows in the pattern of white lilies with green palm trees. Each window was flanked with polished brass pots of dwarf palm trees.

Although this house was larger than the Riverside house, the rooms here contained a good deal more furniture, with a great many little tables with glass or marble tops covered with tiny ceramic figures of animals. Along the walls, cabinets with glass doors displayed larger figurines of clear glass—a fierce glass bear occupied one shelf by itself. The end tables and cabinets were arranged close together with barely a space to walk between them. The matching brown velvet sofas and armchairs were centered at the
far end of the parlor near the fireplace, and each sofa or chair was flanked with an end table or little chest of drawers displaying more glass figurines.

Indigo sat at one end of the sofa and looked all around while the others talked. She was most interested in a closer look at the crystal bear in the cabinet because his glittering eyes followed her across the room. She sat up straight and still on the sofa as she saw Hattie sit, but after a time, something on the sofa began to poke her right leg through her petticoats and stocking. Hattie noticed her discomfort and whispered in her ear that she might stretch her legs a bit. For an instant there was a pause; they all glanced at Indigo before resuming their conversation; the attention embarrassed her, and she did not move again until she was sure no one was looking. Inch by inch, she slid herself from the sofa to the floor so slowly Hattie did not notice her absence until the big crash. Indigo froze with both hands covering her face as the others all stood up in alarm at the fragments of broken glass scattered all across the floor.

“Oh my gracious!” Hattie's mother exclaimed, and both Hattie and Edward's sister, Susan, were quite startled. Edward called out sharply to Indigo, but Hattie was by her side with her arms around her, whispering into Indigo's ear. Careful to avoid the maze of glass cabinets and tiny oval tables, she led Indigo by the hand to the door; both she and the child were exhausted from their journey.

As Hattie and Indigo started up the stairs, a voice called out warmly to Hattie; a large Negro woman dressed in white rushed over to hug Hattie.

“Oh I thought we'd lost you to that California for good,” Lucille said.

“After a week on the train, I feel as if I'm lost for good.”

“Who's this tired girl?”

Indigo stepped behind Hattie so the housekeeper could not see her.

“This is Indigo and she and I both are exhausted.” Lucille looked at them both closely and nodded her head.

“I know what you need.”

Lucille went up the stairs ahead of them, turning up the gas lamps and calling out for Ceena and Grace, the maids. Indigo looked back down the stairs and saw two young black women come out a door by the stairs.

“Two hot baths!” Lucille called down to the maids as she led Hattie and Indigo down the hall.

Later trays of food were sent up to Hattie and Indigo while Edward dined with the others. All questions concerned the Indian child, so Edward described Hattie's immediate interest in the Indian child lost from the government boarding school nearby. His brother-in-law, Colin James,
seemed unconcerned about Indians or children or any worldly care, for that matter, as he downed his fifth glass of wine, but Edward noticed a frown cross his sister's brow for an instant at his mention of the Indian child. She wanted to know why they brought the Indian child. Edward smiled faintly. Hattie was attached to the child, and he found her quite interesting himself. She was generally well behaved and kept Hattie company when Edward was away.

“She's to be trained as a lady's maid,” Edward said as he held his plate over the platter. “The Indian schools teach them all sorts of skills and trades.” He paused to cut a bite of meat as the others waited to hear more; actually he and Hattie had not discussed plans for the child beyond the summer.

Later, the men strolled outdoors to see Mr. Abbott's latest projects to aid the poor: rammed-earth bricks and fishponds. Susan James and Mrs. Abbott went upstairs to look in on Hattie and the child.

The room was just as it had been the day of Hattie's wedding, some eight months ago, as if perhaps her mother still did not quite believe she had found a husband after all. It was not like Mother to miss an opportunity to redecorate a room, but she gathered from the conversation in the parlor her mother now devoted a great deal of time to the church; she and Susan James organized charity events to raise money for the Catholic bishop's aid society.

Hattie was showing Indigo her scrapbooks of her dried pressed daisies and roses when Mother knocked; before Hattie could reply, the door opened and in came Mother and Susan James. Indigo pulled the bedcovers over her head. They pretended they wanted to visit with Hattie, but she could tell they were curious about Indigo, who remained hidden.

While Susan James talked about her garden renovations, Hattie watched Mother's hand move playfully along the edge of Indigo's bed in an attempt to coax her out; but Indigo refused to budge. Then the attention of the two women turned to Hattie.

“Hattie, you look so thin! We thought by now we might be seeing a ‘change,' ” Susan said sweetly. Hattie's laughter surprised both women. Children were a subject for the future, she told them. She understood the source of Susan's curiosity: Susan's two daughters would receive smaller sums under the terms of the family trust if Edward and Hattie had children.

At last Susan said good night and Mrs. Abbott leaned over to give Hattie a little hug. It was wonderful to have her home again, Mrs. Abbott said
as she followed Susan out the door. Susan's jaw was firmly set and Hattie realized her sister-in-law disliked her. When they were gone, Hattie told Indigo it was safe to come out, but she was asleep with the covers over her head. Hattie pulled back the covers so Indigo could breathe properly, then put out the light.

Edward was sitting up in bed reading a citrus horticulture book when Hattie joined him. She unpacked a nightgown. He laid the open book facedown on the bed and rubbed both eyes.

“Home again, home again—”

“—Jiggety-jig!” Hattie said with a smile.

They agreed Hattie should sleep in the spare bed in the room with Indigo in case she woke in the night and became disoriented or frightened. He put a robe over his nightshirt and walked Hattie down the hall with an arm gently around her shoulders.

♦   ♦   ♦

Just before dawn, Indigo woke to the noisy chirping of dozens of blackbirds in the huge tree outside the window. The big flock reminded her of all the crows that suddenly appeared before the dancers and the Messiah arrived at their camp by the river at Needles. The blackbirds, though only half the size of the crows, were handsome birds with bright yellow beaks and feet. They watched her look out the window at them and she realized they came to greet her and welcome her.

Hattie snored softly in the bed next to hers; Indigo lay on her side in the bed and watched Hattie for a while, but then she had to urinate. The bathroom was a short distance down the hall but she didn't want anyone to see her in bed clothes or a robe, so she got dressed. She tiptoed down the hall and held her breath as she turned the knob on the bathroom door, hoping it would not make a loud noise. She used the toilet but did not pull the chain because of the loud gushing sound the water made; she scooted the little step up to the lavatory and carefully washed her face and hands. She rebraided her hair and retied the ribbons as best she could, then took a final look at herself in the mirror.

“Hello, how do you do, fine thank you, a pleasure to meet you,” she said to the image in the mirror. She had to laugh at her dark Sand Lizard face in the gilded oval mirror; now a Sand Lizard girl was loose in the white people's world.

She crept down the stairs to the big front doors with the polished brass latches and studied the mechanism; yesterday the doors opened without a sound. She tried the left latch first but it refused to move; but when she
pressed down with all her might, the mechanism of the right latch lifted smoothly and the big door glided open. Once outside, she did not close the door for fear of noise. She inhaled the fragrance of the damp morning air delicious enough to eat: in the distance she could smell tasseled corn plants, squash blossoms, and the flowering beans and peas.

The dawn flooded the porch with golden green light that lifted her as she stepped into its radiance and pulled her toward it. She bounded down the front steps and felt the dampness of the grass through her slippers. She ran into the light pouring between the giant trees near the house along the vast lawns. To run and run over the soft earth while breathing the golden fresh air felt glorious.

She slowed to a walk under the great trees so she could examine them more closely; little mushroom caps dotted the ground under the trees and when she picked one and held it up close, tiny dewdrops glistened in the light. She popped it in her mouth and it tasted as fresh as the earth and the air. She searched for more mushrooms under the trees until her hunger was satisfied. She caught wind of the ocean smell—sharp green and restless; the wind was so cool she started off again.

It was easy walking under the giant trees because there were no rocks or gullies to watch out for; even the bushes of wild roses she had to sniff, and the thickets of fragrant azaleas—yellows, pinks, and whites—were just far enough from the path she need not worry about snagging her dress. At regular intervals the path through the trees opened into little clearings in bloom with blue-and-purple iris scattered with bright gold and bright white narcissus. She could feel the ocean's dampness though she still could not see it. The path went up a slight incline and then suddenly she stepped out of the trees into the brilliant morning light reflected off the bay below. Now she could see the road they'd taken along the edge of the bay, and lesser roads or driveways leading up from the beach and back into the big trees and meadows. As she made her way down from the hill, she came across what appeared to be an old stone wall fallen over in the thick beach grass and sand. Someone had lived there long ago, long before the roads or the driveways; she felt the gentle presence of the spirits of the place in the breeze off the water.

Edward was up before the others for an early breakfast with his sister and brother-in-law before Colin left for his office in the city. He found the front door ajar but assumed Lucille or one of the maids neglected to latch it properly. An old cow trail through the great oaks connected the two properties; he was surprised to see a gray flagstone path replaced the muddy
trail. Along the path, clumps of purple foxglove and bright blue delphiniums were edged with lilies of the valley; this was the work of his sister and her new passion for English landscape gardens.

At dinner the evening before, Susan talked of nothing else but the progress of the workmen renovating the Italian-style gardens. Edward thought the word “demolition” seemed more appropriate—he was fond of the Renaissance-style gardens planted when the house was built. It seemed a pity because the trees and hedges had reached full maturity only recently. The sounds of the steel picks and shovels against earth and stone could be heard from beyond the blue garden, which itself was undergoing its annual preparations for the ball. Susan did not want her guests to see the same plants as the year before; she relished the challenge of creating new and startling effects with bedding plants and even shrubs and vines selected for their particular shade of blue; the white-flowering plants and shrubs were chosen for their impact in the moonlight. White blossoms took on the silvery blue of the moon, while the blue blossoms were transformed to a luminous cobalt blue.