The Velvet Room (11 page)

Sometimes Robin talked about her family or about things she had seen and done, but nearly always her stories were about the days before the Williamses left Fresno. Nothing much had happened since then that she liked to talk about, at least not until she came to Las Palmeras.

There was one very important area, though, that they never discussed. As if by silent agreement, they did not talk about the key, Palmeras House, or the Velvet Room. After that first day, Bridget never brought the subject up again, and neither did Robin. She didn’t understand Bridget’s silence, but then she really didn’t understand her own either — except that the feeling she had about the Velvet Room was something she could never share with anyone.

It was on about the fourth or fifth visit that Robin made a fascinating discovery in the Velvet Room. She had been browsing through the books and had worked her way up to the top of the first stack of shelves. Now she was using the top step of the ladder that ran along the shelves on a little track. This whole row of books seemed to be about the early days in California, and some of them looked verv old.

She couldn’t help thinking how much her father would like to see these books. He was interested in California’s early history, at least he had been. Her thought brought the usual sharp pinch of worry about Dad, but it was easy in the Velvet Room to shut out worries like that. So she just shoved it away and went back to the books.

At the end of the shelf were several oddly shaped volumes. Some were long and narrow, like ledgers, and some were very small. The long narrow ones were full of records, written in faded old-fashioned script. They were hard to read, but Robin made out that they were dated in the 1870’s and ’80’s, and were mostly records of sales and purchases. There were dozens of entries concerning the sale of cattle and hides and purchases of grain and hay.

One of the very small books, too, seemed to be a record of some sort, with dated entries in elaborate, flowing handwriting. The first entry filled nearly the whole page and was dated January 1, 1890. The faded writing in an unfamiliar style was difficult to read, and Robin was about to give up and return it to the shelf when she noticed a signature at the end of the page. It was a single word beginning with an elegantly curly
B:
Bonita.

Afterward Robin didn’t even remember getting off the ladder and crossing the room to the alcove. But she must have because, a long time later, that’s where she found herself. But in between, time had not existed at all. At least Robin Williams and June, 1937, had not existed. In between there had only been Palmeras House in 1890 and a girl named Bonita, who had lived there then.

January 1, 1890:

On Christmas Day, Aunt Lily presented me with this beautiful volume and suggested that a young lady ought to keep a daily journal. Aunt Lily says that she was taught that a journal, faithfully kept, is not only a useful record, but a valuable discipline in orderliness and organization. She was kind enough to show me her diary, and it is, indeed, very neat and impressive. She writes a lovely hand, and everything is beautifully organized. By making daily entries she keeps track of all sorts of useful information, such as when the rugs were beaten and who has been on the guest list for dinner recently.

My dearest friend, Mary Ortega, keeps a diary too. However, it’s not a bit like Aunt Lily’s. Mary’s journal hasn’t any records at all, but instead, it is full of her favorite poetry, confidential observations about all her friends, and other comments of a very philosophical nature.

I don’t have as much imagination as Mary has, and I’m afraid I’ll never be as well organized as Aunt Lily is, so I might as well just begin writing and see how it turns out.

I’ll begin with some events of the past week.

The day before Christmas, Uncle Francisco and Aunt Lily and their darling baby boy arrived by train to spend the holidays. Grandpa was not well enough to go, so I was allowed to go to the station to welcome them. Of course, Tomas drove the buggy, and Grandpa insisted on María’s accompanying me, but I was in charge of the expedition.

Uncle Francisco visited us last summer, but Aunt Lily has not been to Las Palmeras for a long time; and it was the first time that Grandpa and I had seen the baby.

Little Donie is almost two years old, and I’m sure that he is the most beautiful baby in the world. He liked me right away and spent almost the whole day holding on to my hand or sitting in my lap. I’ve never had a baby to play with before, except the servants’ children, and I find it hard to believe that little Donie is my very own cousin.

Grandpa was feeling better than he has for a long time. On Christmas Day he was even able to come downstairs for dinner and the presents. It was a wonderful time. Grandpa gave me a beautiful silver-studded bridle for Conchita, and I got this diary and two new dresses from Aunt Lily and Uncle Francisco. María gave me a lovely lace mantilla, and Tomas had made me a braided quirt. Of course, I wouldn’t think of using a quirt on Conchita, but it does look dashing to have one hanging from one’s wrist. I think it was the best Christmas that I have ever had.

Bonita

January 2:

We didn’t have our New Year’s Fiesta this year. It must be the first time in over fifty years that there has been no New Year’s Fiesta at Las Palmeras, but Grandpa just didn’t feel well enough. I can’t imagine why it is taking him so long to get better this time.

However, many of our friends did make a short call yesterday. The Ortegas drove down from Rancho Venado. Grandpa asked them to stay over as they usually do, but they refused. Mrs. Ortega said she thought it might be tiring for Grandpa to have company in the house. I’m sure she was wrong, but I couldn’t persuade them to stay. I wanted them to so much, because Mary and I have not seen each other for a long time and we have so much to talk about.

While the gentlemen went up to wish Grandpa a Happy New Year, Aunt Lily and I entertained the ladies in the parlor. I would much rather have visited with Mary, since she’s my best friend and I haven’t seen her since school let out. But Aunt Lily wanted me to help since she had never met most of the people except at her wedding three years ago.

That brings me to very wonderful and important news. Last Wednesday Uncle Frank — Aunt Lily asked me to call him that; she says Francisco sounds ridiculous with a last name like McCurdy — anyway, Uncle Frank told me that he and Aunt Lily and little Donie are going to stay at Las Palmeras indefinitely. I was astounded, because Uncle Frank has not lived at Las Palmeras since he went away to school, and I never thought he liked it much here. Grandpa always says, “Francisco has no roots in the soil.”

I asked Uncle Frank about his law practice in Los Angeles, but he just said that his partner could take over and that he thought he was needed at Las Palmeras. I really think that is rather strange, since I’m sure I know a great deal more about ranching than he does. Besides, Grandpa has Mr. Garcia, who is the best foreman in the county. However, I’m terribly glad they are staying, whatever the reason. Uncle Frank is so nice, and I adore little Donie. I haven’t gotten to know Aunt Lily very well yet, but I’m sure I will now. I would like very much to be like her. She is so beautiful and poised, and dresses nicer than anyone I know.

Aunt Lily says it’s no wonder I haven’t very good judgment about clothes since I’ve had no one but María for so many years. She says Grandpa should have gotten a good governess for me a long time ago. I’m sure it would have been good for me, but then I wouldn’t have been able to go to the academy in Santa Luisa, and I’ve always liked it there so much. I think it would be lonely to study at home.

Besides, María would hate having someone else take care of me; she’s been my nurse so many years. I can imagine how she would quarrel with a governess. I tried to explain about María to Aunt Lily, but she only said a young lady of fifteen is far too old to have a nurse and that María should have been sent back to her people years ago.

B.B.

P.S. It’s wonderful that there will be so many McCurdys living at Palmeras House again. For so many years there has been only Grandpa and I.

January 4:

I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve already been negligent about keeping my journal faithfully, but yesterday was so busy that there just didn’t seem to be a moment to devote to it. In the morning I rode out to El Pasto with Uncle Frank. He wanted to look over the stock and have things explained to him. He says he’s forgotten so much of his Spanish that he has trouble understanding Mr. Garcia.

It was a very enjoyable morning, and Uncle Frank was interested in everything. I’m afraid, however, that he became tired and stiff before the expedition was over. He explained that he hasn’t been doing much riding recently.

Grandpa says that Francisco never did like to ride, not even as a boy. It seems strange that brothers can be so different. Everyone says that Terrence, my father, was the best horseman in the county.

Yesterday afternoon the doctor came again to see Grandpa. I do wish he would get well. He’s never been sick so long before.

The spring term began today. Uncle Frank is having Tomas drive me to school in the carriage. It makes me feel quite grand and rather silly. I’d really much prefer riding Conchita or going in the wagon with Juan and Catalina.

Mr. Fitzgerald says I’m doing better in Latin grammar. Grandpa will be glad to hear that.

Bonita

January
5:

Today a freight wagon came from the railroad station with Aunt Lily’s furniture. So now there is no doubt that they are going to stay at Las Palmeras. Aunt Lily’s things are much newer and more fashionable than our furniture, so she is moving most of the old things up to the second floor and furnishing the parlor and reception room with her things. It looks very elegant but rather strange.

I had such a pleasant time with Donie today after school. I put him on Conchita and led him about the patio. He loved it and wasn’t a bit afraid. I think he is going to be a wonderful horseman like Grandpa and my father. He cried when Aunt Lily had me take him off, so to cheer him up I took him for a long walk out past the gardener’s cottage to the foothills. The grass is getting tall already, and we played hide and seek in it. He is such a darling baby. Except for Grandpa, I love him more than anybody in the world.

B.B.

January 10:

I’ve been neglecting my diary again. I’m afraid I’ll never be as organized as Aunt Lily is. But this time it really was unavoidable, at least in part, because I was away.

On Friday I went home from the Academy with Mary and spent the weekend at Rancho Venado. I had a wonderful time. There’s always something exciting going on at the Ortegas’, and if there isn’t, Mary is sure to invent something. At present she is helping the foreman’s daughter plan her elopement. Juana is in love with Jose Luna from the Blakesly Ranch, and her father doesn’t approve. So Mary has planned how they are to elope. It’s to happen next Sunday when Juana is on her way to church. We spent all weekend making maps and carrying messages. It was very exciting.

I came home this morning. Grandpa seems to be a little better. I read to him for a little while, and he seemed to enjoy it.

It rained all afternoon, so I spent the time reading. Mary lent me a new novel that I’ve been eager to read. I think the reading nook in our library is a perfect spot to spend a rainy day. I’ve spent so many happy hours there.

B.B.

Robin read that paragraph over several times. It made a funny little tingle go up the back of her neck. “I’ve spent so many happy hours there,” the diary said. Robin could almost believe that, if she turned quickly, Bonita would be there, curled up on the red cushions. Somehow, it wasn’t a frightening thought. As Robin turned her head, she realized that she was hoping —but the pillows were bare. She went on to the next page.

January 12:

Father Chadworth came to call today. He went up and talked to Grandpa. When he came down, he said something to me about trusting in God and being brave. I don’t know what he meant, but it seems as if he thinks Grandpa isn’t going to get better. He must be wrong. Grandpa has had these sick spells before, and he always gets well. And the doctor told me, just the other day, that he was improving.

I’ve been worried about María lately, too. She has been unhappy and cross. She has taken a dislike to Aunt Lily and refuses to do anything Aunt Lily tells her to do. I don’t blame Aunt Lily for being angry, because she’s used to ordinary servants. She doesn’t understand about María’s being my father’s nurse years ago and mine since I was born, and being just like a part of the family.

I’m so afraid that María overheard something that Aunt Lily said to me the other day. When we were talking about a governess, Aunt Lily said it was ridiculous to leave the upbringing of a young lady to an old Mexican woman who couldn’t even read and write. María
is
very sensitive about such things, and I’m sure she will find it hard to forgive Aunt Lily if she did overhear. Besides, it really wasn’t quite fair, because María can read a little bit, in Spanish.

Bonita

January 13:

It rained again today.

Aunt Lily is having the dining room papered. She says paper is very fashionable in Los Angeles now.

I read to Grandpa this afternoon. He doesn’t seem to be much better. I’m so worried about him.

Bonita

January 16:

Still raining.

Juana’s elopement is off, at least for now. It was raining so hard on Sunday that her father wouldn’t let her go to church.

Grandpa still very sick.

January 20:

The doctor was here again this Grandpa is worse.

The next page of the diary was blank except for a few words written in a shaky, uncontrolled hand. The ink was so blurred and smeared that Robin had to hold it up to the light to make out the words.

February
5:

Donovan Patrick McCurdy age 68

died February 3, 1890, at Las Palmeras.