Gardens in the Dunes (51 page)

The next day Laura put them on the train to Livorno, but only after she got promises from them to come stay with her again. She gave them a card with instructions how she might be reached in case they needed her assistance.

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By the time the train reached Livorno, Edward's face appeared pale; was he ill? Oh no, he quickly answered, he was only a bit tired. He'd not slept well the night before, he said, but managed a smile for Hattie. Actually he'd barely slept at all; after he managed to fall asleep, he woke shaken and wet with fear from a nightmare about giant African snakes in their bed. Perhaps in her sleep Hattie flung her arm over his shoulder to set off the bad dream.

Of course, all the snake figures he'd seen in the rain garden the previous afternoon were bound to affect his dreams, though yesterday's terra-cotta snakes were small and European. It seemed more likely the nightmare
stemmed from an anecdote Laura told the evening of their arrival; as she showed them around the house, she repeated an old rumor—almost a local legend by now. The foreigners who previously owned the villa kept giant African snakes in the wine cellar, then later abandoned the snakes there. According to the story, the great pythons found their way into the foundations of the villa, where they subsisted on rodents and feral cats. Laura reiterated there were no pythons or any other large snakes on the premises; nonetheless Edward dreamed a giant snake embraced him around the shoulders.

The train's arrival in Livorno stirred his blood, and the fatigue dissipated; he felt a tingle of anticipation and excitement; at last he was on the threshold to Corsica and the
Citrus medica
twigs that would free him entirely from debt and secure his share of the family estate. Financial improvements brought other changes as well; actually, the improvement already began on board the ship to Genoa with his acquaintance with Dr. William Gates of Melbourne and a possible investment partnership in meteor ore; the
C. medica
twigs were to be his collateral. It all would work out very nicely; he knew Hattie wanted to go to Arizona to determine if the child had any living relatives, and Dr. Gates's meteor crater was only a few hours by train from Flagstaff.

As soon as they were settled in their hotel, Edward took a walk to reconfirm their reservations on the steamship to Bastia the next morning. He wanted no errors or delays; he double-checked to calm his nerves. He was careful to avoid the U.S. consulate lest he be noticed by the authorities there. He was counting on the inefficiency of the civil servants at the Agriculture Department and Mr. Grabb's busy schedule to give him enough time to carry out his plan. They would assume his reply to their cables had been lost but he would turn back as they had directed; he'd never given them any reason to assume otherwise. Time was of the essence now.

Livorno was a port city, but the downtown area was somewhat low lying and did not always get the breezes off the sea in August. Edward was hot and little out of breath when he reached the steamship office, but an alert young clerk immediately brought him a chair and a glass of water. Edward complimented the clerk on his excellent English, and the young man bowed modestly, replying he had lived two years with an uncle in Chicago.

The reservations for tomorrow were all in order; the clerk carefully printed out receipts good for passage for the three of them. The old injury to the leg was acting up, and the clerk was so hospitable, he sat a while longer. The clerk said he was grateful to have this opportunity to practice
his English with an American; British visitors usually declined. Perhaps it was the clerk's friendliness or simply the heat that caused him to ask about the citron industry. He regretted his indiscretion almost as soon as he spoke, then decided he was silly to worry; the Italian clerk was harmless.

The clerk was quite knowledgeable about the citron since the export of pickled citron rind was primarily from Livorno. As it happened the clerk also knew a good bit about the processing of the
Citrus medica
from raw rind to candied spice. Edward was pleased to point out that in the United States, candied citron had become one of the most sought after spices for Christmas plum puddings and those rich wedding cakes guests took home to dream on.

Edward listened with great interest to the clerk's description of the brine tanks used to rot the thick-skinned rinds before it was candied. All this information would be invaluable for Edward's future work with the citron. He promised to send the clerk the recipe for Christmas fruitcake before he excused himself and thanked the clerk for all the information. The man expressed his regret Edward and his family were departing so soon; otherwise, he might have arranged a tour of a citron processing shed.

Edward felt the ticks of the clock drawing him closer and closer to his destiny; he had no appetite at dinner. Afterward, while Hattie wrote and the child and parrot played on the floor, he tried to concentrate on a review of cutting slips from twigs but found it nearly impossible to concentrate.

Hattie wrote Laura a note of thanks for her generous hospitality and for the wonderful opportunity to see the rare artifacts in their lovely garden settings. She regretted the haste that compelled them to depart so soon, but she hoped to return to Lucca soon.

The child and Hattie slept soundly, but he tossed and turned; a nauseous sensation and pounding of his heart continued until he got up and found the paregoric. He was about to possess the first slips of
C. medica
out of Corsica! His future depended on the rough-skinned citrons, those ugly little lemons! He tipped the brown glass bottle and tapped its bottom and managed to get a good dose without opening the last bottle. They must find a pharmacist as soon as they returned from Bastia. He lay back on his pillow and floated away in a glow.

The next morning, while the luggage was taken downstairs and Edward and Hattie completed last-minute details before checkout, Indigo played with Rainbow out on the balcony in the fresh air off the ocean and the bright sunshine. Her head over her shoulder, Indigo loved to watch him spread both wings above her like a mighty eagle; as she ran, she felt
the weight of his strong little body lift off as his wings flapped harder, but he did not release his grip on her shoulder. Indigo knew he was too smart to let go because his clipped wing feathers wouldn't carry him. They were having so much fun she did not want to stop although she could see Edward and Hattie were nearly ready to go. She didn't want to put Rainbow in his travel cage until the last moment. She turned to make a last run with Rainbow up the long balcony when she felt the breeze off the ocean suddenly rise against her face, and an instant later, Rainbow lifted off her shoulder in the wind and landed in the top branches of the big chestnut tree in the hotel garden. Indigo could tell by his expression he was surprised, then delighted to find himself free in the top of the tree. Indigo called his name and he looked at her, but she could see he was much more interested in the tree. She watched him climb, rapidly using his feet and beak, and by the time she ran to tell Hattie, the parrot was no longer visible.

Down in the hotel garden, a small crowd of staff and a few curious gathered around the tree to crane their necks and point up. Hattie stood with her hand on Indigo's shoulder and tried to reassure her the parrot could not go far with clipped wings; someone would find him and return him. The head gardener boosted one of his assistants into the lower branches and he disappeared up the center of the great tree. More people gathered to watch the man in the tree. Edward noticed even the cabdriver and the hotel porters stopped loading the luggage to look up at the tree.

For days Edward had not allowed himself to think about his mission to Corsica and the task that awaited him, but now that departure was imminent, anxious thoughts raced through his mind; if they were delayed, they'd miss the only boat to Bastia until the end of the week. The new pink skin of the scar on his fingers itched and tingled though he rubbed it vigorously. They must leave for the pier at once!

Edward held out his pocket watch to show Hattie how little time they had before the gangplank was pulled up, but she was attempting to console the child. Indigo began to cry at the sight of the concierge with the empty travel cage that must stay behind in case the parrot was found. Hattie tried to console her, but Indigo's grief was alarming, far more than she ever expressed before. The hotel kitchen staff brought little trays of candies and sweets but Indigo ignored them. She huddled on the big armchair in the hotel lobby with her face buried in her hands.

“I loved him most of all,” she sobbed, and refused to move from the chair; she refused to go anywhere without the parrot.

Hattie was aware of Edward's increasing annoyance at the possibility their departure might be delayed. Hattie assured Indigo someone would find the bird; she sat down on the divan across from the child and wrote a hurried note to Laura about the lost parrot and the generous reward offered for his return; the hotel employees would carry on the search while they were in Corsica, and notify their friend Laura when the parrot was found. Indigo mustn't worry; a seaport like Livorno was bound to be familiar with pet parrots—sailors brought back parrots from their travels; someone would care for the lost bird. The weather there was mild; there were vegetable gardens and vines of ripe grapes when Rainbow got hungry. Now they must not delay any longer. Indigo closed her eyes and slowly shook her head; both her hands tightly gripped the arms of the chair; she refused to leave the hotel lobby. Only when Edward approached as if to carry her bodily did Indigo sullenly get to her feet and follow Hattie to the cab waiting outside the hotel.

Hattie pointed out the cab window at the fountain where pigeons drank and bathed while others scrambled for bread crusts the people threw to them, but Indigo refused to look. Instead she stared at a distant point straight ahead and refused to speak or acknowledge them.

Once on board the boat, Hattie tried to humor the grieving child, first by reading aloud from a guide to Corsica, but the child ignored her. She brought out the book of adventures of the stone monkey and began to read but Indigo covered both ears with her hands. Edward was angered by the child's rejection of Hattie's efforts; they really must come to an agreement about discipline for the girl. Each day she grew taller and the clothing that once hung loose now fit almost too closely. Far more alarming, however, were the child's willfulness and absence of humility; her demeanor was that of a sultan, not a lady's maid.

Indigo refused to touch the soup and bread brought to her. All day and tonight Rainbow had nothing to drink or eat where he was, so Indigo would not drink or eat either. The gust of wind caught him and he landed in the treetop by accident; he only wanted to explore a little. He would not understand why she left him after she promised to always love him and take care of him. Storks and seagulls would try to kill a small bird like him.

Hattie reassured her again someone would find the bird and bring him to the hotel for the reward, but Indigo shook her head angrily and refused to look at her.

The weather for the crossing was perfect—the ocean calm and the atmosphere so clear that off in the distance they saw Elba as they passed.
Hattie explained the island's history, which Indigo ignored except to peer hard into the distance to see some sign of the castle and the tiny kingdom Napoleon made after his first defeat; but the shimmer of the afternoon sunlight off the glassy sea created a glare that made it difficult to see much more than the island's emerald outline against the turquoise sea.

It was dark when they reached their hotel, one of only four hotels in Bastia. Indigo went straight to the maid's alcove, or closet, as she called it, and set down her valise next to the narrow bed. Then she defiantly pulled the bedding loose and rolled up in the sheet and blanket on the floor. The night was quite warm and the floor spotlessly clean, so Hattie did not stop the child. The tile floor felt cool to the touch—the child had the right idea on a night like that.

Hattie was relieved Edward was too engrossed in his book on twig grafts to notice Indigo's display of temper. Otherwise the unpleasant discussion of Indigo's manners and training might continue. Edward was satisfied Hattie was teaching the child geography and reading and writing on their journey, but a docile willingness to serve must also be cultivated. Hattie felt her pulse surge each time she recalled Edward's assertion that she was too soft-hearted to discipline the child. Perhaps the task was more than Hattie wanted to take on, but of course it
was
their duty to educate the child to enable her to survive in the white man's world.

Indigo dreamed she was flying with Rainbow on her back high over the earth. Below she could see the shimmering aquamarine of the Mediterranean; ahead on the curve of the horizon she saw the stormy dark blue edge of the Atlantic as they flew west. Before very long they were flying high above the Colorado River and then over the sand dunes, where Indigo looked down and saw the old gardens were no longer planted with corn or squash but something else. As Rainbow flew them lower to get a better look, she saw the garden terraces between the dunes were streaked with bright colors of the tall flowering spikes of gladiolus three feet tall. Rainbow landed among the gladiolus of all shades of yellow—from the palest white with only a blush of yellow to a yellow so bright it glowed. Rainbow climbed a tall spike of yellow blossoms speckled with red, and Indigo laughed with delight,

She woke just as the darkness was beginning to fade, and looked for the cage before she remembered he was lost. She hoped the dream of all the blossoming gladiolus meant he would come back to her. Indigo memorized the low green hills behind Livorno's harbor; to escape the seagulls and storks, she imagined Rainbow flying to the hills where great trees shaded
pale orange and pale yellow houses like Laura's. She recalled too the number of food-bearing trees—olives, acorns, and chestnuts for Rainbow to eat if the grapes, apricots, and peaches were not enough. She felt better as she recalled the train ride from Lucca to Livorno, when she had watched out the train window until dark and saw no end to the fields of wheat, or the vineyards and vegetable gardens.