“Not of you,” he replied, then motioned to the dog. “Okay, go with Lauren. Go,” he commanded.
The dog raced toward me and I continued walking. With Rocky trotting beside me, I checked the greenhouse and garden in search of Nora. Though I wanted to question her about what she had done, part of me was relieved that she wasn’t in either place. As strange as Nora was as a child, she had never given me the creeps. She did now. Before, when she answered someone who wasn’t there, I figured it was an imaginary playmate. So what if she had one longer than most kids? But my dead mother, that was a different kind of invisible presence. I didn’t want to think about it.
Passing the garden, I came to the old oak tree with the swing. It was tied the same way as always, with a loop dangling about three feet off the ground.
“What do you think, Rocky? Am I still the champion swinger of the group?”
I grabbed the rope and gave it a hard yank, then put my foot in the loop and pulled myself up with my hands, making sure the rope was as strong as it appeared. Jumping down again, I carried the rope to another tree and climbed to “the platform of death,” as we used to call it — a wide branch on an old cherry.
“Here goes” I slipped my foot in the loop, grabbed the rope, and pushed off.
With the first swoop I remembered why I had loved swinging. It was wonderful! It was flying! It was being Peter Pan! The earth fell away, the sky rushed to meet me. I was free and flying high.
Then the rope jerked. It happened so suddenly it caught me off guard. The rope writhed out of my hands. I grabbed for it frantically, but I couldn’t catch hold and fell backward.
With my foot caught in the loop, I hit the ground upside down, back first. The rope snapped, releasing me from the tree and tumbling on top of me.
I lay on my back stunned, the wind knocked out of me.
Rocky nosed my arm. I sat up slowly and gazed up at the tree, which still had a piece of rope dangling from it. The rope had been in too good shape to be snapped by my weight. I quickly examined it, the part that had fallen on me.
About four feet above the foot loop was a knot. My mouth went dry. I thought of the knot in the lamp wire, the knots in my mother’s scarves and jewelry. I had assumed that someone tied those knots before they were discovered, but I hadn’t seen this one when I grasped the swing’s rope.
I just didn’t notice it, I told myself. Still, an icy fear ran through my veins. I didn’t know how to explain what had just happened. I didn’t know who or what to blame. Then I glanced up to the second floor porch and saw Nora watching me.
Before I could call to her, Nora disappeared inside. I coiled up the rope and left it under the tree, then entered the house, slipping past the dining room, where Nick, Holly, and Aunt Jule were talking. When I arrived upstairs, Nora’s bedroom door was closed. I could hear her moving behind it.
I knocked, lightly at first. “Nora? Nora, I want to talk to you.” I knocked harder, but she wouldn’t answer. I thought of opening the door myself or sneaking around to the porch and trying to surprise her, but I didn’t want to do something to Nora that she could do back to me. I gave up. As soon as I got a chance to talk to Aunt Jule alone, I’d tell her that Nora needed help and I’d offer to pay for it.
After changing out of my grass-stained clothes, I took a paperback from the bedroom shelf and joined the others in the dining room. Aunt Jule was working on her embroidery.
Nick and Holly had cleared space on the table and laid out piles of photos. They were going through them, laughing and arguing, as they did years back when playing board games.
I threw some pillows in the corner of the room and curled up to read the battered Agatha Christie the way I used to read Aunt Jule’s Nancy Drews. It was almost like old times.
After a while Rocky was admitted as far as the hallway door. Stretching out next to him, I continued to read. Once, when I looked up, I found Nick staring at Rocky and me, smiling.
Holly glanced up. “Phew!” she exclaimed, waving a folder in front of her nose.
“Shh!” Nick said in a stage whisper. “You’ll embarrass Lauren. Just make sure she showers tonight.”
“I was referring to Rocky.”
Aunt Jule laughed. I saw the same content look on her face as she’d get when we gathered around her as children.
Nora came in twice and stayed no longer than five minutes each time. She would eye me warily, then sit by Nick. He was gentle with her, showing her a handful of pictures and asking which ones she’d choose for the yearbook supplement. Now that I thought about it, she had always sat near him when we played board games and defended his claims against Holly’s.
Nick stayed through dinnertime, not that there was an event called dinner at Aunt Jule’s. We simply helped ourselves to what we wanted, when we wanted it. About ten o’clock Holly walked Nick to his car. I couldn’t help wondering if they were outside kissing. Since tonight wasn’t an official date but a yearbook meeting, I figured his policy conveniently allowed for as many of these nights as he wanted.
“Lauren,” Aunt Jule said when we were alone, “I was hoping we’d have time together tomorrow after Holly leaves for school — to chat and all. But I have a shopkeeper breathing down my neck for overdue work and have to pick up craft supplies. I’ll be gone till noon.”
“No problem,” I assured her.
“I could meet you at twelve,” she offered, “and go with you to Sondra’s grave. We could take flowers. If you like, we could plant some.”
I knew she was trying to make up for what she had said before.
“Thanks, Aunt Jule, thanks a lot, but I need to go by myself.” I walked over and sat on the chair next to hers. “But there is something I want to talk to you about.”
She paused, holding her silver needle above the fabric she was embroidering. “Yes, love?”
“Nora.”
She quickly pushed the needle through. “What about her?”
“I’m really worried about her. I think she needs helppsychiatric help.”
“Do you,” Aunt Jule replied coolly.
“This afternoon Nora—”
“Nick told us about the boathouse,” my godmother interrupted. “It was a childish prank. Certainly you weren’t frightened by such a silly thing?”
“I was bothered by the way she talked about my mother.
She said—”
“Ignore her,” Aunt Jule advised, making a knot and snipping the thread. “Nora is confused and easily frightened, especially when there are changes here at home. Your visit has upset her a little, that’s all. She’ll get past it. In the meantime, don’t take her seriously.”
“But what if she wants to be taken seriously?” I asked.
“What if her behavior is a cry for help?”
Aunt Jule shook her head, dismissing the possibility.
“You’re tired, Lauren, and so am I. This isn’t the time to discuss Nora. Get a good night’s rest and let things settle for a few days.”
“Is Nora the reason you asked me to come here?” I persisted. “Is she what you wanted to talk about?”
“There is much for us to talk about, after you’ve rested up,” Aunt Jule replied firmly.
I knew that once my godmother tabled a discussion, it was useless to say more. I kissed her good night.
When I got upstairs, Nora’s bedroom door was closed.
Before entering my own room, I glanced at the door across the hall, next to Nora’s. The summer my mother came, she had slept in that room. I was glad the door to it was also shut.