lumpy cushion, I laid back, stifling a yawn.
“And that Trapp fellow?”said Suze. “You see him? Brr, gives me the shivers he do—that’s who lured Benji off, I knows that to my bones. Curses the day Benji started bringing that fellow around. Weird bunch, they are, hey Addie. You don’t like them either, do you? No, maid, didn’t think so. Don’t know anybody who does—do you, Sylvie? You like that Trapp—whatever his name is—I only ever heard him called Trapp.”
“Don’t see him much.” I squirmed deeper into the sofa so’s to deter Suze’s attention. Through half-closed eyes I watched as she and Mother fussed with their sheets and cushions. I watched Mother dim the lamp, and the shadows softening their faces as they leaned towards each other, lowering their voices as one does during late-night conversations. The weight of the past sleepless nights settled around me like a thick blanket. With a growing contentment I listened to Mother’s voice, and Suze’s, discussing Father’s condition, his strongmindedness, his ability to turn around a river if he so desired, and how perhaps he’d be on his feet in no time, going against the odds like his brother Jake, who’d had two heart attacks by now and was supposed to be dead three years ago and was still lugging wood and traipsing through the woods with a gun.
“Yes, he’ll be fine, I’m starting to think it,” Mother was soon saying, her tone strengthening, gathering conviction with each hopeful word. And with Suze pushing her onward she was soon past worrying and was chiding him now, as though it were he sitting before her and not Suze, for his foolishness the past few years, working himself to death, not listening, not resting.
“And sure, putting his house on the wharf like that,” said Suze. “Lord, before his eyes opened in the mornings he was already out in boat—never took a break at all. First sight of a bird and he was motoring towards it with his gun. Oh my, I laughs now, thinking about that—him putting the house on the wharf, knowing how much you hates the water.”
“If he couldn’t sit on it during the day, he was bloody well going to sleep on it at night,” said Mother.
“And worries nothing about getting washed out to sea in a storm. And him telling me then, he was only thinking of you. Yes, yes he did, that’s what he told me—he was only thinking of you, that you’d never have to climb a ladder agin to wash a window, the sea would wash them for you—silly fool. He forgets how you always liked it outdoors—always in the garden you were. My, you were one for the outdoors, I can see you now, sneaking off up the woods, wanting to be alone on the cliffs. Never sees you outdoors anymore, not since you left Cooney Arm.”
“Used to love that meadow in Cooney Arm,” said Mother. “And the falls. Never did get used to living on a wharf.” She tossed her head as though the notion was still unthinkable. “Sylvanus—he always talked of building a new house up by the river. But,” she shrugged, “I don’t know. It’s like we went into hibernation after we moved to Hampden. Never did wake up to the place. Think I always blamed it for our having to move there—silly as that sounds.”
“Well, it must agree with you then, for you haven’t been sick a day since you left the arm. My lord, when I thinks of all that sickness you used to have.”
“Cursed,” said Mother with a tight laugh.
“Silly thing.”
“Who wouldn’t think it, losing three babies like that.” She lowered her voice, her tone taking on an anxious timbre. “I thinks back on those days—Ohh! All those nights I worried, waiting for little Sylvie to be taken. Always thought I was going to be punished again, that she’d be taken. Was always waiting for more punishment. Truly, I never felt like a mother till Chris was born and took to my breast.”
My lashes fluttered open during those last words. I’d been partly listening, as I always listened
“And that Trapp fellow?”said Suze. “You see him? Brr, gives me the shivers he do—that’s who lured Benji off, I knows that to my bones. Curses the day Benji started bringing that fellow around. Weird bunch, they are, hey Addie. You don’t like them either, do you? No, maid, didn’t think so. Don’t know anybody who does—do you, Sylvie? You like that Trapp—whatever his name is—I only ever heard him called Trapp.”
“Don’t see him much.” I squirmed deeper into the sofa so’s to deter Suze’s attention. Through half-closed eyes I watched as she and Mother fussed with their sheets and cushions. I watched Mother dim the lamp, and the shadows softening their faces as they leaned towards each other, lowering their voices as one does during late-night conversations. The weight of the past sleepless nights settled around me like a thick blanket. With a growing contentment I listened to Mother’s voice, and Suze’s, discussing Father’s condition, his strongmindedness, his ability to turn around a river if he so desired, and how perhaps he’d be on his feet in no time, going against the odds like his brother Jake, who’d had two heart attacks by now and was supposed to be dead three years ago and was still lugging wood and traipsing through the woods with a gun.
“Yes, he’ll be fine, I’m starting to think it,” Mother was soon saying, her tone strengthening, gathering conviction with each hopeful word. And with Suze pushing her onward she was soon past worrying and was chiding him now, as though it were he sitting before her and not Suze, for his foolishness the past few years, working himself to death, not listening, not resting.
“And sure, putting his house on the wharf like that,” said Suze. “Lord, before his eyes opened in the mornings he was already out in boat—never took a break at all. First sight of a bird and he was motoring towards it with his gun. Oh my, I laughs now, thinking about that—him putting the house on the wharf, knowing how much you hates the water.”
“If he couldn’t sit on it during the day, he was bloody well going to sleep on it at night,” said Mother.
“And worries nothing about getting washed out to sea in a storm. And him telling me then, he was only thinking of you. Yes, yes he did, that’s what he told me—he was only thinking of you, that you’d never have to climb a ladder agin to wash a window, the sea would wash them for you—silly fool. He forgets how you always liked it outdoors—always in the garden you were. My, you were one for the outdoors, I can see you now, sneaking off up the woods, wanting to be alone on the cliffs. Never sees you outdoors anymore, not since you left Cooney Arm.”
“Used to love that meadow in Cooney Arm,” said Mother. “And the falls. Never did get used to living on a wharf.” She tossed her head as though the notion was still unthinkable. “Sylvanus—he always talked of building a new house up by the river. But,” she shrugged, “I don’t know. It’s like we went into hibernation after we moved to Hampden. Never did wake up to the place. Think I always blamed it for our having to move there—silly as that sounds.”
“Well, it must agree with you then, for you haven’t been sick a day since you left the arm. My lord, when I thinks of all that sickness you used to have.”
“Cursed,” said Mother with a tight laugh.
“Silly thing.”
“Who wouldn’t think it, losing three babies like that.” She lowered her voice, her tone taking on an anxious timbre. “I thinks back on those days—Ohh! All those nights I worried, waiting for little Sylvie to be taken. Always thought I was going to be punished again, that she’d be taken. Was always waiting for more punishment. Truly, I never felt like a mother till Chris was born and took to my breast.”
My lashes fluttered open during those last words. I’d been partly listening, as I always listened
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