Gardens in the Dunes (54 page)

The ship departed Bastia for Livorno on the evening tide; the light breeze on deck was cool and invigorating as Hattie and Indigo watched the silhouette of the shore recede. A lovely half-moon floated above them in an ocean of stars, and when Hattie pointed to it Indigo smiled and nodded her head. Yes, the eye of the big snake was watching out for them—that's what Grandma said. The wide band of bright stars was her belly and chest, though of course she was much too big to be seen from earth.

When they returned to the cabin Edward was busily wrapping the twig cuttings, their tips stuck in cubes of potato. Later she would be embarrassed she never questioned Edward's authority to cut the twigs from the venerable orchards; it was for science, she thought.

No, she did not suspect anything was amiss until the customs officer on the pier in Livorno motioned for his two assistants to unload the hand trolley stacked with their luggage.

Hattie had walked ahead with Indigo, who was terribly anxious to get to the hotel, where she was sure they would find Rainbow safely in his brass cage waiting for her. She reassured the child the customs inspection would not take long, but when she glanced back to see if Edward was coming along yet, she was shocked to see Edward surrounded by customs officers. Hattie took Indigo's hand firmly in hers and hurried back to find clothing and personal items deliberately scattered over the inspection table. The citron cuttings were in neat rows. They had also set aside the little sacks of gladiolus corms and seeds Laura gave them as well as the seeds Aunt Bronwyn gave Indigo.

Hattie tried to go to Edward's side, but the customs officers politely blocked her path. It was not possible, they said, and motioned for her and the child to step back. Hattie assumed they would be reunited momentarily, so she did not insist. Seconds later she was shocked to see the customs officers lead Edward away; Hattie called out his name, and for an instant he turned his head, and their eyes met for an instant before the officers moved him along. She could not forget the expression in his eyes because its meaning eluded her, yet it remained just near enough to bother her. What expression had she expected to see?

Indigo took Edward's arrest in stride; Mama and Grandma used to get arrested—it didn't mean anything, she tried to reassure Hattie. She was
more concerned about the delay; she wanted to get to the hotel to see if Rainbow was found. She sketched and colored a drawing of a green, blue, and yellow parrot while Hattie answered the officers' questions.

Her husband had received a cablegram of authorization in Genoa only last week, Hattie told them. She had seen the two envelopes in his breast pocket when he returned from the consulate. It would be a simple matter, would it not, to ask the cable office to check their records. The customs officers asked no further questions but requested she remain at the American consulate until further notice; they brought around a cab that took her and the child to the consulate.

The deputy consul was on vacation and his assistant away in Rome; the clerk in charge, a dour American with dirty cuffs, announced, in any event, they could do nothing for Americans caught smuggling. Hattie protested; her husband had special authorization from the U.S. Agriculture secretary himself! The clerk stared at her for a moment, his eyes grotesquely magnified by his spectacles; then he rudely turned away and showed her and the child to the door of a sitting room set aside for American citizens in distress.

Hattie had not cried earlier when she saw all their belongings scattered; nor had she cried when the authorities marched Edward away, because then she still believed it was all a misunderstanding. But as she guided Indigo ahead of her into the small dingy room, furnished only with a dark leather sofa and a table and chair, Hattie began to cry.

She sat on the edge of sofa and stared straight ahead at the glass doors to the balcony. Indigo squeezed her hand and whispered, “Don't worry, Hattie. Please don't cry.” Indigo wasn't afraid, because the police here did not shove or kick them the way the Indian police and soldiers did in Arizona, and they brought Hattie and Indigo to the consulate as soon as Hattie answered their questions.

To cheer her up, Indigo talked about the way the Indian police tied their ankles and wrists so she and Sister Salt couldn't get away; she told Hattie the stories about the times Grandma Fleet was caught by soldiers or by the Indian police, only to escape later; Mama even escaped Fort Yuma, though it took her more than a year. Hattie mustn't be sad—at home people got arrested for no reason all the time. There was nothing to be ashamed of; this wasn't bad at all.

Hattie was quite touched by Indigo's efforts to cheer her and she had to smile at Indigo's confidence that the police here were not so bad; as she listened, she was shocked at the routine brutality the child described. Indigo
was happy to be telling Hattie stories because the telling took her mind off Rainbow; she was certain he was waiting for her at the hotel. If they hadn't arrested Edward, she and Rainbow would already be together again, playing with the quartz pebbles Indigo picked up near the schoolhouse with the miraculous wall.

Indigo sketched and colored gladiolus in her notebook. She recopied the pages of text that she'd copied from Laura's gladiolus books because it helped her to remember the Latin names. One hour passed and then two; Hattie had no idea how long they would be detained there; both she and the child were hungry and exhausted. When she went downstairs with a ten-lire note to ask if they might get something to eat, the American clerk glared at her but snatched the ten lire from the counter and called a young Italian boy from the back to bring them the bread and milk Hattie requested.

Hattie began to fear they would be detained there until the deputy consul returned, and that might be days. The authorities seized all their bags but did return Hattie's purse and Indigo's valise. With a sheet of paper torn from Indigo's notebook Hattie wrote a note to Laura. She apologized for the bother after all the hospitality Laura had extended to them, but there had been a misunderstanding with the customs officials and the American consul and staff were away. Could Laura recommend an attorney in Livorno who might help them?

Hattie consulted her little book of useful Italian phrases and when the boy brought the milk and bread upstairs, she told him to keep the change as a tip. The boy, who had avoided looking at her directly until then, broke into a big smile. His eyes widened when she gave him another ten lire and asked him to send the letter to Lucca the fastest way possible. The boy looked at the ten lire in his hand and at the address on the letter; if he hurried, he said, the letter might still go on the evening train to Lucca.

Hattie stood at the French doors of the balcony and watched the street as she waited, certain Edward would come or at least the clerk would bring her some news. But at closing time the American clerk informed her, for safety purposes, the building must be locked overnight, though they could move about inside until he returned the next morning at eight. Hattie was too shocked by his statement to think to ask him what they should do in case of fire.

The toilet facilities were downstairs, and there was a sink and running water, but no towels. The long leather sofa was large enough for both of them to curl up at each end; the night was quite warm, and while Indigo
slept soundly, Hattie lay awake much of the night and wondered how Edward was faring. Was he in jail in Livorno, or did customs have their own detention facilities? Toward morning she did manage to fall asleep but woke with a start, her clothes damp and twisted under her; she dreamed she was in the old woods of Laura's garden on the overgrown path to the hidden grotto but she could not find her way back to the house. In the gray light before dawn, the dream left her with a lingering sadness she had not felt since the incident with Mr. Hyslop; careful not to wake the child, she went to the table and wept.

The boy came again the next morning; this time Hattie asked for oranges and cheese to go with the milk and bread. She unfastened the latches and Indigo helped her open the doors to the balcony for fresh air; they might as well make themselves at home if they were going to be there long. Indigo went out on the balcony and searched the streets and skyline for the hotel with its big tree where Rainbow escaped. She stood very still and listened for a long time until Hattie asked her what was wrong; while the morning air was still cool, she hoped she might hear Rainbow's call.

Indigo got discouraged after a while and came in to lie down on the couch. Hattie reminded her if the parrot was in its cage inside the hotel she would not be able to hear him call—she mustn't give up hope. Hattie was confident, with the help of their friend Laura and perhaps an attorney, the misunderstanding would be cleared up. Hattie reached into her bag and brought out the book of adventures of the monkey king; his wild exploits were just the thing to cheer them up.

Indigo look up at Hattie. How much longer did they have to stay here? Hattie looked down at the book and shook her head. Indigo had been lying down on the couch, her stocking feet curled under her, but now she sat up and restlessly looked out the open doors to the balcony. Hattie went on reading.

Indigo gave a loud sigh; Hattie looked up from the page to see what was the matter. Indigo got up from the couch wiping her eyes on the back of her hand and went out on the balcony to listen again. While she listened for parrot sounds amid the street noise, Indigo watched the donkey carts and buggies in the street and the people come and go on the sidewalks below. Her hair itched because it was dirty; they had not been able to wash or change their clothes. This was beginning to remind Indigo of their captivity by the Indian police before Sister Salt was taken away and Indigo put on a train. If only they could get to the hotel, she was certain Rainbow was waiting there. She was so discouraged.

Edward never wanted Rainbow to come along. The tears came faster as she thought of the little parrot who loved her and trusted she'd come back for him. She set her chin on the balcony railing and didn't even try to blink away the tears. Tears made everything blurry and she saw two or three of the same object when she looked without wiping her eyes; she didn't care. Then she noticed a figure at the end of the street rapidly approaching, and recognized something familiar in the purposeful stride. She wiped her eyes and looked again, and sure enough it was their friend Laura, but what was it that she carried? “Rainbow! Rainbow!” Indigo shouted, and from the street below she heard the parrot screech and squawk in reply.

Laura brought more good news: they were free to go. Hattie wasted no time asking questions; she simply wanted to get to the hotel for a bath and a hot meal and bed. But what news did she have about Edward? Laura put her arm around Hattie's shoulders and told her not to worry; she had posted the bond for Edward's release and he would be along in an hour or two. Still, Hattie could not shake off the vague dread rising inside herself.

While Hattie poured Laura more tea, Indigo sat on the floor rolling pebbles to the parrot, who caught them in his beak, then let them bounce across the tile floor. Laura amused them with the story of Rainbow's return and capture at the fountain in the hotel garden. Laura hoped they didn't mind, but the gardener clipped the parrot's wing feathers to prevent another escape. Indigo's face was bright with happiness and again she thanked Laura, who smiled and told her to thank the gardener, not her.

“But it was so thoughtful of you to bring him along when you came to the consulate,” Hattie added. “You've been so kind—I don't know if we could've endured another night on that couch!” They had been at the hotel for almost two hours, and still no Edward; Hattie began to have misgivings. A simple misunderstanding would not take so long to resolve; a sick feeling began to overtake her, from her stomach to her head; her toes and fingers tingled as if the supply of blood was cut off; she stood up abruptly but sank down again in the chair.

Laura helped Hattie to the bed and Indigo, the parrot on her shoulder, gently removed Hattie's shoes as she lay back silently on the pillow with her eyes fixed on the ceiling as tears slid down her cheeks. Laura pulled a chair next to the bed while Indigo refilled the parrot's pottery cups with fresh water and sunflower seeds.

“I am so sorry,” Laura said in a soft voice; she looked down at her hands in her lap, and Indigo saw she was almost in tears too.

“Goddamn police!” Indigo said to the parrot, and immediately felt better;
both women heard her but neither corrected her. All police were the same, she told Rainbow; they worked for the devil, and the soldiers did too. She lined up the pebbles in a row and pretended they were policemen as she took aim and flicked them one by one across the floor with her fingers. Rainbow watched with great interest as the pebbles clattered across the floor tiles.

Hattie gave a loud sigh and dabbed at her eyes and nose with a handkerchief before she turned to Laura, who reached out to pat her hand and began to speak in a low even voice. Ordinarily, the customs officers did not bother to search the luggage of American tourists returning from Corsica, but the authorities were on the lookout for anarchist secret agents since the assassination of King Umberto. Hattie blinked her eyes but otherwise gave no sign she was listening, but Indigo's ears perked up at the mention of secret agents. She was becoming accustomed to Laura's voice and accent, which reminded her of the English the Mexican people spoke along the river.

Even so, it was the French customs officials—not the Italians—who guarded the citron industry of Corsica so closely. Laura paused, then in a soft voice asked if Hattie wanted to sleep.

“No,” she said quickly, “please, the sound of your voice is soothing.” Hattie glanced over at the child, who tried to draw in her notebook as the parrot waddled around her and persisted in reaching for the colored pencil between her fingers. Actually it was a game, and Indigo only pretended to draw as she listened to Laura and Hattie.