Movie Shoes (7 page)

The gate was locked. Jane shook it, but the lock was secure and would not come undone. She was just planning to climb over it when the gardener came around from the front of the house. He looked up, nodded, and said something Jane could not catch. She leaned on the gate.

“Do you know it’s awfully cruel to keep your dog chained to his kennel like that?”

The gardener did not seem to have heard what she said, but he had caught the word “dog.” He smiled. “Yeah, a fine doghouse.”

Jane had never heard a kennel called a doghouse before, but she guessed what he meant. “However nice it is, he shouldn’t be chained to it, poor boy.”

The man scratched his head. Then he came over to the gate. He looked at Jane’s angry face in wonderment. “He’s gotta be chained.”

“Why?”

“If he’s loose, they’ll take him.”

“Who will?” Jane demanded

“Cops.”

The gardener seemed to think the conversation was over. He took a look at the sprayer to see if it was working properly and walked away.

Jane gave the gate another angry shake. She leaned over to the dog.

“Poor boy! I don’t believe a word he said. I think he made it all up. I shall ask Aunt Cora, and if it’s a lie, I’ll come and set you free myself.”

When Aunt Cora saw the third interrupter come in, all signs of being a welcoming aunt left her. She looked like what she felt, an aunt who had got up very early to meet relatives who felt she was being more noble than she could say in taking them in and, once they were in, wanted to see as little as possible of the adults and nothing at all of the children. She especially did not want to see this child, who she had already noticed was the plain one and unlikely, therefore, to be a credit to her.

“Well?” Aunt Cora said wearily.

Jane drew up a chair by Aunt Cora’s desk. “Do dogs in America have to be chained up?”

Well, really! said Aunt Cora’s face. What next? The first child looked as though you had hit her when you said very reasonably you could not drive her daily to Sunset Boulevard for dancing lessons. The boy had demanded a piano. Now here was the ugly one pulling up a chair as if she had come to visit, asking about dog laws. It was too much.

“Yes they do I’m glad to say. I’ve never liked dogs.”

Jane eyed Aunt Cora with horror. Never liked dogs! What an aunt!

“Why do they have to be chained?”

“Hydrophobia, I guess. Now run along, and take the other two with you. Go play on the beach.”

The children held a meeting on the beach. They walked until they were out of earshot of the house. They sat down. The sun blazed down, warming them through and through. The sea made a lazy, lapping sound. Some seabirds of a new, interesting sort floated on the water, but for the three of them the day was a ruin.

“She said she thanked Posy Fossil and said my lessons couldn’t be managed.” Rachel moaned. “Oh, what will I do if Posy never rings up again!”

Tim threw a stone at an imaginary aunt. “No piano, and not even ashamed.”

Jane rolled over on her face and kicked at the sand with her toes. “That Dad could have a sister who could say, ‘I’ve never liked dogs’! To think we are going to live with such an aunt for six whole months!”

“And such a lovely place,” said Rachel. “And Dad’s put out his typewriter as if he really means to write again. If only Aunt Cora weren’t like that.”

Jane kicked at the sand again. “But she is like that, and she looked at me with a despising look.”

Tim hugged his knees and rested his chin on them. “In America lots of children don’t have pocket money given to them. They earn it. She said so.”

“Earn it?” asked Rachel. “How?”

“I asked Bella. She said doing chores for the neighbors. I’m going to snoop at the neighbors this afternoon so I can see which would be the best to start on.”

Rachel turned to look at him. “She wouldn’t let you have a piano in her house if you did hire it.”

“Then I’ll hire a place with a piano in it.”

“It will take a lot of money,” Rachel warned Tim.

“I’ll earn it.”

Rachel felt a new respect for Tim. Here was she, feeling just hopeless, but Tim wasn’t feeling hopeless; he meant to do something.

“If I can find out how you do it, I could earn, too,” Rachel said. “I could earn money for carfare to go to my dancing lessons-that is, if Posy Fossil ever rings up again.”

Jane brushed some sand off her nose. “Actually I’d be glad if Tim couldn’t practice and you couldn’t dance. It would make it much nicer in the house for everybody but if it’s to help you to get things that an aunt who’s, so low she doesn’t like dogs won’t let you have, then I earn money to help you. I vote we all start trying. Let’s see which of us can earn first.”

Posy Fossil

It was not possible for the children to start earning the next day. On the trip over, Peaseblossom had planned that their days should be spent as nearly as possible in the same way as days in London-lessons, walks, meals, and bedtime. Aunt Cora, in a roundabout way, showed her that this could not be. In her funny whiny voice, she made it clear that Peaseblossom had been invited because house help was difficult and Bella was getting old and not able to do much more than the cooking.

Peaseblossom did not mind a bit about the housework; but she did mind that while she was doing the housework, there would be no lessons, and she had no intention of allowing Tim and Jane to sit up for evening dinner every night. However, she was tactful and did not say what she was thinking to Aunt Cora but smiled and said that she was sure everything would work out splendidly.

By the next day she had things arranged. Bee was delighted that Aunt Cora wanted help in the house; it was a way of repaying her kindness. She and Peaseblossom decided that they and the children would get the house cleaned immediately after breakfast. The children could then get in two and a half hours’ lessons. After lunch they could have a good walk and education at the same time, studying flowers, birds, and places of interest. After tea there could be another hour of lessons or homework. Peaseblossom had got up very early and had a talk with Bella about meals. She found her most understanding. As long as she did not have to prepare it, Bella did not mind a bit Peaseblossom’s giving the children an English tea. It was Bella herself who suggested they should eat it in the kitchen. Nor did she mind serving cereal and fruit for the children’s suppers. She did not say so in words, but she managed, by the amused look in her eye to suggest that she and Peaseblossom were conspirators planning strange goings-on behind Aunt Cora’s back. Peaseblossom, as a good guest, thought this wrong but unavoidable under the circumstances.

It was the children who resented Peaseblossom’s planning. On Saturdays and Sundays and during the holidays they had helped clean the house at home, and they all had their days for helping to lay the table and wash the dishes; otherwise they did as little housework as they could and were glad of any excuse to get out of it. The very last thing they had expected in California was to find themselves doing more housework than they had ever done before. Even Rachel could not hide her thoughts. The first morning she was pushing an electric polisher up and down the hall with so sulky a face that Bee said, “Hurry up, darling, and don’t look so cross. We want to surprise Aunt Cora when she comes down.”

Rachel turned off the switch on the polisher. “I don’t care if she’s surprised or not. I think it’s very mean of her to expect us to clean her house. She ought to do it herself, not let us do it while she stays in bed.”

Bee was stem. “Sssh! Don’t let Peaseblossom hear you. That’s a horrid and ungrateful way to talk.” She held up a finger. “Listen, can you hear the typewriter? Dad’s very first morning. Isn’t that worth paying for by a little housework?”

“Not to me. As far as I can see, we might just as well not be in California. Every minute of the day we’re going to be doing something. I shan’t even be able to get in my proper practice, and what’s the good of it anyway? I expect Aunt Cora’s put Posy Fossil off for good, and if she has, she’s ruined my career.”

Bee laughed. “Goose! Get on with that polishing. Your career shan’t be ruined, I promise you. Dad and I will find a way.”

Jane was making beds with Peaseblossom. She looked and felt shockingly black-doggish. Peaseblossom but she did not ask what was wrong. Instead she kept up a cheerful-conversation and did not mind getting no answers. After a bit Jane could not keep her grievances to herself any longer.

“One would think visitors wouldn’t be the ones to work.” She leaned across the bed and lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper. “I’m beginning to hate Aunt Cora.”

Peaseblossom used her finishing-a-conversation voice. “I’m ashamed of you. Not another word. Each one of you is as bad as the other. I shall speak to you all before lessons.”

Tim was in the kitchen cleaning shoes, a job he often did at home and did not dislike except when it interfered with his piano practice. He was appalled at the arrangements for the day. When was he to start earning money to rent a piano? He scowled at Bee’s shoe, which he was cleaning, and slapped
some polish onto it.

Bella shook her head. “It doesn’t do any good, honey, slapping the polish on that way.”

Tim put down the shoe.

“I’m angry, Bella. Very angry. Everybody knows I have to practice every day, but they don’t care a bit. I’ve talked to them all, and they all say, ‘Don’t worry.’ But I do worry.”

Bella’s wrinkled face was kind but stern.

“You’ve no right to complain about your family. They’re right to see y’all educated. It’s a fine thing. In Georgia, where I was raised, I didn’t get so much education, but my family goes to college.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to be educated, and I don’t mind cleaning shoes; but I must practice. I couldn’t believe I had an aunt without a piano.”

“You’ve no call to go speaking that way of Miss Cora.” Bella’s voice softened. “Maybe I can help.”

Tim jumped up, scattering bottles, polishers, and shoes all over the kitchen. “How, Bella? How?”

“I’m not tellin’. You finish your work and do good at your lessons and maybe I’ll tell you something.”

Lessons were on the porch. Before they started, Peaseblossom closed the doors.

“I don’t want to say any of this again, and I won’t hear one word of argument from any of you. You are selfish little beasts. You know how long it is since your father worked, and that he’s started again this morning, and it’s the first time since the accident that your mother has looked really happy. But what do you three do? Since we arrived yesterday in this lovely place, you’ve done nothing but grumble. Today I am warning you. One more grumble, and you go to bed. Children who behave as you’ve behaved must be ill, so I shall keep you in bed and dose you until I see that you are your old selves again. Now then here are the lesson timetables I have worked out for you.”

It was no good arguing. Peaseblossom always meant what she said. As the three started working, they exchanged looks which said as clearly as though words had been spoken, ‘the meanness of her.’

The sun blazed down on the beach; the sea grew bluer and bluer and made an inviting, whispering noise. The children occasionally raised their eyes from their books and when they did, it was hard to go on being angry. California was a very lovely place.

After they had been working an hour, they heard Aunt Cora’s voice. Again the children exchanged looks. So she had got up at last, had she, the lazy creature! She was calling to Bee.

“I’m going to market. You care to come?”

Market! That had a nice sound. That would be where all that gorgeous fruit was bought. If only Peaseblossom were not so strict about lessons, they could go to the market too. Evidently Bee thought it would be fun, because they heard her say something about a hat. Presently the front door shut.

Almost another hour went by. Then the front doorbell rang. There were voices in the hall. Then Bella’s heavy, soft-shoed feet came shuffling toward the porch. She beamed at Rachel, though she spoke to Peaseblossom.

“There’s a Miss Fossil asking for Miss Rachel.”

Peaseblossom could be awfully nice. She said in a delighted voice, “Oh, Rachel, dear, I’m so glad! I think your aunt is out, so you could see her in the living room.”

Rachel was suddenly shy. “I wonder if I’d better change.” She had on a shirt the color of her eyes and gray shorts. Peaseblossom thought she looked nicely and suitably dressed and said so. Rachel flung her arms around her neck. She only said, “Darling Peaseblossom,” but they all knew that what she meant was she was sorry she had been cross. She dashed out.

Posy Fossil looked just as Rachel had imagined her. She was little and pretty in a way, but the most noticeable things about her were her hair, which was red-gold and curly, and a sort of eagerness, as if life were so exciting she couldn’t stand still for a minute. She was wearing a green shirt and slacks, which surprised Rachel, who had supposed that somebody as important as Posy Fossil would be a crepe-de-chine and mink sort of person. Rachel wanted to be respectful, so though it was difficult to do in shorts, she curtsied as she did at the academy to Madame.

Posy Fossil seemed to think the curtsy terribly funny. She laughed and caught hold of Rachel’s hand and asked where they could go to talk. Rachel, feeling shy and self-conscious, led the way into the living room, but once inside with the door shut, she could not feel shy long. Posy, still laughing. She swept a curtsy to the ground and said, “Madame,” in the most reverent voice.

“Fancy, I’d almost forgotten until I saw you do it.” She curtsied again. “Madame. Mind you, everybody, even I, has to curtsy to Manoff. As we do it, we say ‘Maître,’ only most of them think it’s very silly, so they do it like this.” She curtsied and said “Maître”; only it was not a respectful humble “Maître” but sort of I’ll-do-it-if-I-must-but-1-think-it ridiculous, which made Rachel laugh. Posy ran around the room, examining everything.

“I spoke to Mrs. Edward P. Beeson on the telephone.”

“Aunt Cora,” Rachel explained.

Posy picked up a plant in a copper bowl on the writing table. She came into the middle of the living room. She did a little dance. It was made up of quick steps, but she danced as if she were too tired to lift her feet, and as she danced, she kept opening her mouth in a hungry way at the plant and then jerking her head back.

Rachel laughed so much she had to sit down. Really, Posy was being very much like Aunt Cora. She even made her feet look whiny, like Aunt Cora’s voice, and you could see she was dieting and wished she weren’t by the way she looked at the plant.

“How did you know she was like that?” Rachel asked between laughs.

Posy put the plant back on the writing table.

“I felt her in my feet when she was telephoning. Go and get your shoes. I want to see where you’ve got to.”

Aunt Cora’s living room had a parquet floor and was perfect for dancing. Rachel was surprised that she did not feel scared dancing in front of the great Posy Fossil, but she did not. Posy rattled off strings of steps, and Rachel listened and then danced them. Sometimes Posy danced the routine first to show what she wanted. Rachel did not get much right the first time, but Posy kept saying, “Do it again. Do it again,” and toward the end she was making a fair attempt at what Posy wanted. After about ten minutes Posy pulled Rachel down to sit beside her on the sofa.

“Yes. I could tell anywhere you were a pupil of Madame’s. She’s so thorough and so strict about precision and arms. You know about Manoff’s ballet? You must come to a rehearsal; you can’t believe how lovely some of his things are. Well, I can’t teach you often because I rehearse every day for that-I’ll get Manoff to let you come to his Saturday mornings sometimes. He teaches then himself, but for regular work you had better go to a woman called Donna. Madame Donna. She’s good. I’ll write it down for you.”

Rachel saw Posy was the sort of person who saw no difficulty in doing things. She had evidently forgotten what Aunt Cora had said about not being a chauffeur. Posy was getting a piece of paper and a pencil out of her bag. Rachel gently laid a hand over Posy’s to stop her. Then, red in the face because nobody likes explaining the sort of difficulties she had to explain, she told Posy everything. About Aunt Cora and how good it was of her to have them at all, and John’s accident, and the British government’s rules about money. Posy did not wait for Rachel to finish; she jumped to her feet.

“Where’s the telephone?”

Rachel knew that using the telephone in somebody else’s house was a thing you asked permission to do, but Posy Fossil was not a permission-asking person, so she led her to it. Rachel only hoped Aunt Cora and Bee would not come back from their shopping in the middle of the telephoning. Posy looked up a number in the telephone book, talking all the time.

“You’re like my sister Pauline. When we were at Madame Fidolia’s, we never had any money, and she always thought we couldn’t do things. When Manoff saw me dance and said he would take me as his pupil, Pauline tried to tell me I couldn’t go to Czechoslovakia to learn from him. Imagine. Not learning from Manoff when he’d said he would take me! Of course 1 went.” She got her number and asked for Madame Donna.

Rachel listened in a mixture of admiration and awe to the conversation that followed.

Posy explained to Madame Donna about Rachel and that she had no money. There was a pause after that, while Posy listened, looking bored and impatient, and then, unable to listen anymore, she appeared to interrupt. She said that she knew that was how Madame Donna would feel and of course, she could not be expected to teach for nothing a child who would be in the country only six months and no lasting credit to her. That if the lessons were all, it would not matter, as Posy would see to it, but there was transportation as well. What about
Pirouette?
Wasn’t it true that she was providing most of the dancers? At that, from the other end, there was lot of talk which Posy interrupted with “You can easily arrange it… No harm in letting them see her.... Very pretty indeed.” Finally, still holding the telephone, she began to dance. Then she said, “She’ll be there,” and put the telephone down. Posy turned to Rachel.