6 Little House on the Hudson #2
Inside the house, Madison’s mom—who soon became a second mother to me—kept chinchillas, a monkey, and a macaw who lived on a perch in Madison’s mom’s reading room.
“You and all of my kids hate the macaw,” Madison’s mom used to say, “but I love him.” Then, there were their dogs.
They had more dogs than the Humane Society.
Madison’s house was heaven to me, not just because her parents were so kind and because I loved when her mom called me “her kid,” but because animals were very quickly becoming my favorite things in life.
People ask me all the time if I would have chosen acting if it hadn’t been something I fell into as a child.
Honestly, I’m not sure; acting has been part of the fiber of my being for so long that it might as well be imprinted on my DNA.
Acting is what I’ve trained myself in and what my body and mind have always directed me to do.
It’s like favoring a certain hand or speaking your native language; you can’t pinpoint how those practices became so natural, but they are, undoubtedly, part of your foundation.
So, I suppose I could have decided to become an actor, but I know I would have chosen to work with animals.
Animals give me perspective, making my role on this planet seem minuscule in the face of all they do and how well they survive and adapt.
Animals give love without expecting something in return and show joy without embarrassment or shame.
Jackpot, Maggie May, the dogs, and those peacocks didn’t recoil into their stage fright; they expressed their needs, never worrying about letting others down.
One day Madison and I were playing in her backyard when a boy a little younger than us came out of the big house that backed up to hers. Madison nodded her head when she saw him.
“That’s Caleb,” she said to me. “If you’re nice to him, I bet he’ll let you play with the puppies his dog just had.”
“Puppies?!” This was music to my ears.
Madison nodded, and I motioned to her to walk up to Caleb to ask him about these puppies. Right then an older man came out of the house and walked toward us. He had dark, droopy eyes and hair that stood up and out in all directions. I figured he’d just woken up from a nap.
“Caleb!” the man called. “Did you ask Madison and her friend about seeing the puppies?” He looked toward Madison. “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” Madison answered. “This is my friend, Hayden.”
“Hi Hayden,” he responded.
I could have sworn I’d seen this man somewhere before, but I couldn’t place his face or remember his name. I realized that the more polite I was to him, though, the longer he’d probably let me play with his puppies. So, I smiled sweetly and cleared my throat.
“I think I know you. Do you work with my dad?”
“I don’t know,” he replied flatly. “What does your dad do?”
“He owns a flooring company. He’s also a firefighter.”
The man smiled and nodded his head. “Maybe,” he said quietly. Then he turned and motioned for us to follow him.
As I walked toward his house, I suddenly realized that I’d told Mom I would be home within the hour.
It was almost dinnertime, and she and Dad expected me to help out.
I could risk getting in trouble to play with the puppies, or I could do the right thing and start to head back. The choice was agonizing.
I thought, my heart aching, I need to go home.
I grabbed Madison’s arm. “I’m going to ride my bike back now. I told Mom I’d be back for dinner. By the way, who is this guy?”
Madison turned to me, laughed, and rolled her eyes. “Jeez, Hayden. It’s Bill Murray. Some kind of actor you are.”
Bill Murray might have been my first accidental celebrity sighting, but he wasn’t my last.
“Hayden, can you go down the street and give our new neighbors this plant?” Mom yelled up the stairs to me a year or so after we’d moved into our house.
“Sure, where?” I asked, my reluctance to meet new people now a thing of the past.
Mom told me which house after I walked into the kitchen, then handed me a potted plant. “Take your brother. Hold his hand when you cross the street, please.”
Jansen was a deeply sensitive child and often had night terrors, so he still slept with Mom and Dad.
Every time they left us with a babysitter so they could go out, he clung to Mom’s leg, then cried for an hour after she’d pried him off.
Dad said it was enough to make him never want to take Mom out again.
So, as I reached for the potted plant with one hand, I grabbed Jansen’s chubby hand with the other.
We walked down the street and soon noticed a dozen or so cars in our new neighbor’s driveway, spilling out onto the street.
As we reached the door, I dropped Jansen’s hand.
“Go ahead, knock,” I said, pushing my brother toward the door.
Everyone loved Jansen, mostly because of how sweet and gentle he was.
With his sandy brown hair and thick, dark eyebrows, he had shed his peach fuzz and was starting to look like a proper little man.
Personally, I was just happy he was wearing clothes.
Jansen spent every single minute he was home either buck naked or wearing his Spider-Man tighty-whities.
Jansen knocked, and I heard a woman’s voice answer. “Who is it?”
I took over. “It’s your neighbors from up the street.”
The door opened, and a petite, pregnant woman with a perfect button nose and wide, heavily lidded eyes opened the door.
I gasped. Wearing a stylish sweater and chunky boots, she was a million times more exotic than anyone I’d met in Rockland County.
Her dark hair and pouty lips made her seem otherworldly.
As a matter of fact, she looked exactly like a beautiful elf.
“Hello!” she said cheerily in an accent I couldn’t place. “It’s so nice to meet you. What is your name?”
I smiled and extended the plant toward her. “My name is Hayden Panettiere.” I pointed to Jansen. “And this is my little brother, Jansen. We live up the street, and my parents wanted me to bring you this plant as a housewarming gift.”
The Elf Lady smiled and took the plant from my hands. “Well, nice to meet you, Hayden and Jansen.” There was that unfamiliar accent again. “My name is Bjork.”
Even though I was in the City almost daily, I was pretty sheltered, especially when it came to avant-garde Icelandic pop stars/artists/actors.
But I’d watched the Oscars, and I remembered Bjork.
She was the woman who wore a feathered swan dress on Oscar night, with the swan’s long neck wrapped around her body and extending down her chest. This woman was bold, exotic, and art in its purest form.
Most famous New York and Hollywood people I’d met had expensive clothes, gleaming white teeth, and an air of authority, but Bjork was a celebrity on a vastly different level.
She was Iceland meets Saturn meets Middle Earth.
“Come on in,” Bjork said, seeming perfectly normal and not at all like a mythical being. “We’re having a party. My son is around here somewhere if you want to meet him. He’s not much older than you.”
Jansen and I looked inside, and I pulled him in with me. I didn’t care if this party was extraterrestrial. I liked people, and I liked parties even more.
Most of the people inside were about my parents’ age, but they were about as different from my parents as you could get.
When Mom got dressed up to go out, she put on her long mink coat and changed her lipstick color.
Right in front of me stood a woman wearing one long, dangling earring that was shaped like a hand.
Dad’s idea of daring was wearing a suit without a tie, but next to Hand Earring was a man whose face sported half of a beard.
I looked down at Jansen, and he stared up at me. His eyes were bugging out of his head. My overprotective impulses kicked in, and I decided it was time to take him home.
“We better get back,” I said to Bjork, wondering what her last name was because “Mrs. Bjork” didn’t sound right. “Mom’s going to be worried we haven’t come home.”
Bjork smiled sweetly. “Should I call her? Because you’re welcome to stay. And your mom can come, too.”
“No, no, no,” I protested, even though a big part of me wanted to stay, if only to find out what was up with that guy’s half beard. “But it was so nice to meet you.”
“You are very welcome,” she answered. “I hope you come back.”
I smiled and grabbed Jansen’s hand. My little brother had been dead silent the entire time, but then he finally opened his mouth as we walked out the door.
“Welcome to Snedens Landing!” he yelled. “I hope you like your plant!”