Chapter Seventeen
“When’d you say yer goin’ home?” Sam asked Kate, stuffing his pipe with tobacco.
Kate paused in the clearing of the dinner table, but Ann spoke first.
“Oh, you be quiet, you! Marie ain’t goin’ nowhere anytime soon. Spent my whole life without a sister, and now that this one’s come back from the dead, I ain’t givin’ her up just like that!”
Kate wearily carried the stack of plates to the sink.
It was generous of Ann to defend her, especially when it was obvious that her sister, more than anyone, felt the strain of having another person in the house to feed.
Kate had been with the Prices almost two weeks now, and though she had scrubbed the whole apartment from top to bottom, mended clothes, cooked meals, and minded the children, the fact remained that there was only so much help she could provide when there was only so much food to go around.
She couldn’t stay here forever. What was harder to accept was that she actually didn’t want to.
She supposed she loved Ann and her family, but she had not found much to actually like about them, which opened up a whole new fissure of guilt.
She had spent so many years imagining them as either proud, noble Native Americans or, more lately, as exotic foreigners with artistic sensibilities, that now she was, well, more than a little disappointed.
Ann, though kind in many ways, seemed overly prone to gossip and complaint.
According to her, the Prices had been dealt a raw deal, and she was openly jealous of nearly everyone else in town.
And Sam, though hardworking, expected to be pampered at home and frequently shared his own wide-ranging complaints.
Thankfully, his bark was worse than his bite, but Kate had already grown tired of his rants and hated when he flew off the handle at Ann over some real or imagined infraction, to which she would respond with her own brand of vitriol. The two of them could argue for hours.
But what to do? She had no money, and though she had asked around at the shops, even at the Tap below, no one was hiring, especially a woman. She would have to move on to Dubuque, or maybe Milwaukee or Madison, though she did not relish being in a big city alone with nowhere to stay.
The one thing she knew for sure was that she could not return to Merriweather, especially not after what her father had said about her running away yet again. She refused to be the prodigal a third time.
Worried about her mother, however, she had eventually broken down and written the Kerwyns a letter, telling them where she was and that she was safe.
The fact she had not yet received a reply told her all she needed to know.
She had, however, received a letter from Henry Crawford, of all people, but she had torn it in two, unopened, and tossed it into the garbage.
Kate felt a tug and looked down to find Vera clinging to her dress. “We want Aunt Marie to stay forever, don’t we, Ma?”
Ann gave a little bark of a laugh as she scrubbed the dishes. “Well, don’t know about forever. Aunt Marie might want to get married someday and have her own bad children!”
“Will you tell us a story again tonight, Aunt Marie?”
“If you’re good,” Kate said, trying to remove the clinging girl from her dress.
Her new nieces and nephews had initially been cautious around her, but they now wanted to be entertained every night with either a story or a game.
This was all fine and good, except that Kate was not particularly fond of children and also didn’t know that many stories.
Likewise, there was not a single book in the house.
Still, the children seemed to enjoy anything she came up with, and she found she sort of liked it.
It was at least better than having to sit and listen to Sam read aloud bits of the paper or Ann’s latest gossip.
“You leave yer aunt alone!” Sam bellowed between puffs of his pipe. “She’s busy right now!”
“Aw!” came a collective cry.
“Shut yer traps!” Sam yelled. “Who’s goin’ with me tomorrow?”
“I’m workin’, Da,” Billy said from where he sat on the floor by the radiator, trying to extract what little heat was emanating.
“Alright, then, Charlie and Petey can go with me.”
“Why can’t I ever go?” piped Susie, who was not all that much older than Jenny, which made Kate wonder why Ann allowed Susie to go to school but kept Jenny home to help. Maybe it was because Jenny was quieter and more obedient, which really wasn’t fair.
“Girls can’t go huntin’!” Charlie cried.
“Well, I could walk along. I’m real good at spottin’ squirrels. Can’t I go, Da?”
Sam took a deep puff. “Up to yer ma.”
Susie immediately wheeled on Ann. “Can I, Ma? Please?”
“You know Sunday’s laundry day, Suze. You don’t fool me one minute. You ain’t got no interest trampin’ through the woods; you just want to get out of your chores,” Ann scolded.
“Aw, but, Ma! Aunt Marie’s here to help now. And Jenny, too.”
Ann’s brow wrinkled as she debated. “Oh, alright,” she grunted. “But next week you ain’t gettin’ out of it.”
“Yes, Ma!” Susie said, cheerful now that she had gotten her way.
Kate tried to catch Jenny’s reaction to this turn of events, but Jenny’s face was blank. Kate took the baby from Jenny’s arms. “I’ll take her for a bit,” Kate said and balanced Barbara on her hip. “Come on, how about that story?”
“Yay!” was the collective cheer, but Kate ignored the others and looked only at Jenny, who finally gave her the slightest of smiles. Jenny, Kate guessed, was a deep soul. She reminded Kate of herself at that age.
Kate led the way to the broken-down sofa, which had since become her bed.
Billy, whose bed it had been, was now forced to sleep on the floor, which was likely why he had not particularly warmed to her.
Holding Barbara on her lap, she patted the seat next to her for Jenny, and Vera climbed up on the other side.
Petey wedged himself in at the end, and Susie squeezed in at the other.
Charlie sat on the floor. Though he was all of thirteen, he still seemed interested in hearing Kate’s stories.
“Which one?” Kate asked.
“A new one!”
“A new one?” Kate racked her brain. The only story she hadn’t yet told was the Chinese Cinderella story she had initially heard from Julius Fairfax.
“Do you want a new one, Jenny?” she asked, looking down at the girl squeezed beside her.
Jenny nodded.
“Alright, then.” Kate let out a deep breath, trying to remember. “Once upon a time there was a young girl named Ye Xian. Yeh-hsien. She lived in a cave deep in China. Her father—”
“Why you have to tell that foreign baloney?” Sam interrupted. “Why can’t the cave be here? Or leastwise in Kentucky? Plenty a caves down there!”
“Da! You’re ruinin’ the story,” Susie whined.
Kate paused to see if Sam was going to continue his rant, but he instead picked up the newspaper and flattened it out on the table in front of him.
Kate continued. “Ye Xian’s father was the chief of the people there, and her mother was very lovely.
Unfortunately, Ye Xian’s mother died when Ye was just a little girl.
Her father remarried a cruel woman and had a child with her, another girl.
” Kate paused and took in their eager faces.
“Ye’s stepmother hated Ye very much and made her do all the chores while her sister was spoiled rotten.
Ye was by far the prettier and more skilled of the sisters, which made the stepmother all the more envious and cruel. ”
“Hey! This ain’t a new one!” Charlie interrupted. “This is the same as Cinderella.”
He was sprawled across the floor on his stomach, his head propped on his fists. Kate was impressed that he had so easily recognized it.
“You’re right, Charlie. It is like Cinderella, but it’s a little different. You’ll see.”
“Keep goin’,” Vera murmured, pulling Kate’s sleeve.
“Ye was given ratty clothes and very little to eat. And every day, she had to go get firewood and fresh water from a pool further down the mountain. One day, when she was getting water at the pool, a beautiful fish appeared. It was a carp, ten feet long, with red fins and golden eyes.” Kate held out her hands to indicate the fish’s size.
“Golden eyes, my ass,” Sam grunted, though he kept his eyes on the newspaper. “And anyway, carp ain’t no good to eat.”
“The fish became Ye’s only friend,” Kate continued, ignoring him, “and she soon realized that it was her mother reincarnated.”
“What’s that mean?” Petey interrupted.
“It means that after she died, she came back to life as a fish,” Kate explained.
The children’s eyes went wide.
“Now that,” Sam exclaimed, slamming his hand down on the table, “ain’t Christian. And I’ll not have that heathen crap told in my house.”
“Oh, you be quiet,” Ann scolded. “You ain’t been to church in months, so I wouldn’t get all high and mighty. Go on, Marie. What happens next?” Ann pulled out a chair across from Sam and perched herself on it, leaning her chin on her propped arm.
“The fish was Ye’s only friend,” Kate went on, “and whenever Ye went to the pool, the fish would stick its head out of the water and greet her. Ye, though she had very little food, always saved some and would give a portion to the fish. Things went on this way until somehow Ye’s stepmother learned of the talking fish.
She grew very jealous and so devised a wicked plan.
The very next day, she gave Ye a new dress and told her to go to a different pool to gather the day’s water.
Ye obeyed and set off, happy to have a new dress.
The stepmother then put on Ye’s old ratty clothes and went to the pool where the magical fish was.
Pretending to be Ye, she lured the fish out with a bit of food.
Once the fish appeared, Ye’s stepmother grabbed the fish, took out a knife, and killed her!
” Kate made a quick slashing movement with her hand for effect, and Vera actually screamed.
“Did she really kill her?” Petey asked.
Kate nodded. “She did. When Ye discovered what her stepmother had done, she was heartbroken and sat by the edge of the pool and cried for her lost friend, her lost mother. As she sat there sobbing, she heard her mother’s voice in the wind, telling her to take her bones and hide them.
Ye did as told and hid the bones, which had magical powers. ”
“What kind of magical powers?” Charlie asked.
“They could grant wishes,” Kate explained.
“Wishes? Well, why didn’t she wish for her mother to become alive again, then?”
Kate let out a sigh. “I don’t know.”
“Stop interrupting!” Susie complained.
“It was just a question!” Charlie argued.
“You have a question about everything!”
Kate waited for the two of them to settle.
“Go on, Aunt Marie! Finish the story!” Petey urged.
“Ye rarely ever used the bones,” she went on, “but when the annual village festival came around, she asked her mother’s bones to produce a fine dress and shoes for her to wear.
Instantly, a dress and shoes appeared! The dress was made of feathers, which shimmered in the light like a kingfisher, and the shoes were tiny and golden.
Ye was not supposed to go to the festival—”
“Why not?” Petey asked.
“Because she was supposed to stay home and work, right?” Susie asked.
Kate nodded. “Yes. She was supposed to stay behind, but after her stepmother and sister left for the festival, Ye put on the beautiful dress and shoes and slipped out. She was so beautiful that even her stepmother and stepsister did not recognize her. As the evening continued, however, Ye began to notice her stepmother looking at her with more and more curiosity. Fearing that she would be recognized, Ye fled the festival, but in the process, lost one of her golden shoes.”
“This is like Cinderella!” Charlie exclaimed again.
“We know that, Charlie! Shut up!” Susie cried.
“The golden shoe was found, and passed from villager to villager, all of them wondering to whom it belonged. Finally, it reached the young king of the land, who was fascinated by its tiny size and beauty. He began an official search throughout the whole of the kingdom to find the shoe’s owner.
When he and his entourage finally reached Ye’s tiny village, there was great excitement.
All the young women and girls of the village tried on the slipper, including Ye’s stepsister, but it fit no one.
Finally, the only one left was Ye. To everyone’s amazement, it fit!
Ye’s stepmother claimed that there must be some mistake, that the beautiful girl at the festival couldn’t possibly have been Ye.
But when Ye produced the other slipper, which she had hidden in the depths of a cave, the king proposed, impressed by both her beauty and her kindness.
Ye accepted and went to live with him in his beautiful palace, where they were happy forever.
The end.” Kate looked around at each of them and smiled. “Did you like it?”
“But what happens to the stepmother and the sister?” Billy asked from beside the radiator.
“They get punished for being so mean.”
“That was the same as Cinderella,” Charlie complained.
“No, it wasn’t!” argued Petey. “There’s no magic fish in Cinderella.”
“Well, I liked it!” Susie declared.
“Me, too!” Vera wiggled next to Kate. It was clear she had to go to the bathroom.
“Well, I didn’t,” Sam said, tossing the newspaper. “Lot of rubbish, that one.”
“It’s a story,” Ann emphasized. “And it wasn’t for you. It was for the children.”
“Right, well, time for bed. Get on with you!” he shouted at the kids, and they scrambled toward the two bedrooms. “We leave at dawn!”
Kate waited for the room to clear and then unfolded the quilt stacked by the side of the couch.
She was glad that Sam and some of the kids would be gone for at least several hours tomorrow.
It would allow for a little peace and quiet.
Maybe she would even try to go for a walk if she and Ann finished the laundry early enough.
Though she hated to admit it, she longed for the solitude of her attic garret where no one ever disturbed her.
Except Edmund. Wistfully, she thought about the last time he had sought her out there.
It had been the night of Ray’s party, and, if she wasn’t mistaken, he had perhaps been about to say something before Mary had barged her way in.
She wished she could talk to him now, to tell him all about the Prices, to ask what she should do next . . .
But, that was all over now. He had not followed her here, nor had he written. And she was not going back.