Chapter One- Sometimes I know things.
Biloxi, Mississippi 1909.
I look down at the cards in my hand. I only need one more. "Do you have Mrs Bones, the butcher's wife?"
Ivy scowls fiercely and throws down her hand of cards. "You cheater!"
"I am not!" I snatch up the card with Mrs Bones and slip her in beside her husband and son and daughter. "I'm just a lucky guesser…and I win."
"You do so cheat! I'm sick of you Alice Brandon, I don't want to play with such a cheater!" Ivy scrambles to her feet and kicks at the cards, which scatter across the rug.
I move to pick them up. "Don't ruin my cards!"
"Who cares? No one will play with someone who cheats all the time." Ivy stamps spitefully on my fingers as I reach for the cards and then runs from the room. I blink back the tears as I slowly gather the Happy Families cards together.
I didn't cheat. I can't help it if I'm lucky at guessing. I put the cards together, finding it soothing to match all the families. Bones the butcher family, Dose the doctor family, Tape the tailor family and, my favourite, the Soot the sweep family. I like how their faces are all black from the chimney. Once I rubbed soot all over my face to be Miss Soot the Sweep's daughter and it made Mama laugh so much.
I'm not going to cry. I won't let Ivy see she's upset me. I put the cards back carefully in the cabinet and tiptoe into the front room where Mama is sitting with Mrs Mackintosh, Ivy's mother. They've finished their cups of tea and are talking quietly. Ivy is sitting next to her mother on the sofa and she makes a face at me and tosses her head so that her curls swish.
Mama smiles at me and I stand beside her chair and gently stroke her hair. Mrs Mackintosh gives me a stern sort of smile. She doesn't like me. Mostly people don't, but Mrs Mackintosh is bad at pretending.
"Good afternoon Mary Alice," she says sweetly. "How are you today, dear?"
"Good, thank you," I reply awkwardly. I stand on one foot and fiddle with my ribbon sash. "I'm sorry about your mother," I say suddenly. "I hope she gets better soon."
"I beg your pardon?" Mrs Mackintosh's voice is icy, and I look up, startled to feel the room suddenly bristling with tension. Even Mama is looking at me with a frown.
"Your mother," I falter. "She hurt her leg…didn't she?" Suddenly I'm not sure. Why did I say that? "Didn't you say that?"
"I said no such thing," Mrs Mackintosh says harshly. "My mother is fine, thank you very much Mary Alice." She looks at my mother. "I'll be going now Caroline. It was lovely to see you again, thank you. Ivy, come along."
I don't say anything as Mama walks them to the door and waves them off. I'm afraid that Mama will be angry with me for being rude, although I didn't mean to. I know that Mrs Mackintosh's mother fell down the stairs and hurt her leg…didn't she?
"Mama," I say timidly. "I didn't mean to say the wrong thing…"
Mama sighs and kneels in front of me, wrapping me in her arms. She smells like lavender and baking bread. "I know darling. But why did you say that? Mrs Mackintosh left her mother at home quite well before she came here this afternoon."
"I don't know!" I'm so frustrated that I burst into tears. "I thought that was what she said! I didn't mean anything! And Ivy was so mean and she says I'm a cheater and I'm not!"
My last words are a wail, and Mama rubs gently at my back while I sob. It's not fair. I don't understand why the things I say upset people so much. I don't mean to- I really thought that her mother had hurt herself but maybe it was just a mistake. Or maybe it just hasn't happened yet, the tiny voice inside me whispers, but I refuse to acknowledge that. I'm not a witch or a freak, I'm NOT.
Mama hands me her handkerchief and I wipe my eyes and try and stop crying. "I'm sorry Mama."
"It's okay Alice," Mama rises awkwardly back to her feet, her hands in the small of her back as she stretches. She's got a baby growing in her tummy and the big belly is sometimes uncomfortable. "Come in to the kitchen with me; you can practise your reading while I make dinner. Papa will be home soon."
I'm nine now and a good reader, so practising is really just reading aloud to entertain mama while she does her work. I skip in to my bedroom and find our book and then I sit at the kitchen table reading while Mama chops and slices the meat and vegetables for dinner. We're reading A Little Princess, and I'm reading about poor Sara Crewe freezing and hungry in the attic when the door opens and Papa comes in.
"Good afternoon ladies," he says cheerfully.
Mama smiles at him, and I jump up on my tiptoes to give him a kiss. Papa has been away for a week, taking the pearls to sell, and he's carrying his blue suitcase and looking pleased with himself.
"Did you have a good trip?" Mama asks.
"Yes, I had some good luck and may have made some useful new business contacts," Papa answers. He hands me the suitcase. "Put this in my room please Alice."
It's heavy and I can't lift it, but I drag it down the hallway and into their room, leaving it propped up against the end of the bed before hurrying back to the kitchen. I'm almost at the door when I hear Papa mention the Mackintoshes and I pause, just out of sight, to listen.
"Great fuss at the Mackintosh house as I passed by on my way from the train station," Papa says. I hear the clink of glass as Mama pours him a drink. "Seems the old lady- Martha Mackintosh's mother- had fallen down the stairs. A bad leg break apparently; they were carrying her out to the car to go to the hospital as I passed….why Caroline, what's the matter? Sit down!"
I stuff my fist in my mouth to stop my sound of horror from escaping. I can hear the clatter as Mama drops the bottle and the scuffle of chairs and feet as Papa must stand up and help Mama into a seat. "Caroline! What is it?"
"Alice," Mama whispers. "Martha was here this afternoon, we took tea, and Alice said…" Her voice trails off.
"Alice said what?" Papa's voice is hard. "What did the child say, Caroline?"
"She told Martha that she was sorry about her mother, and she hoped she would get better soon," Mama says reluctantly.
"And she knew nothing of this?"
"No. It was earlier in the day…when Martha left home her mother was quite well." Mama's voice is soft.
Papa says a bad word, and I shrink back into the wall as I hear his feet pacing across the kitchen. "I thought we were past this nonsense, Caroline! The child can't be allowed to go around spilling out her silly stories and imaginings as though they were fact!"
"They're not stories," Mama speaks so quietly I can barely hear her. "She's always right John, you know that."
"Do you think that matters?" Papa is loud and angry and my eyes fill with tears again. "She can't go around saying things like this Caroline! You know what people will say! It was one thing when she was small and would predict the weather; that was just a harmless game, but this…!"
"I know! But she doesn't mean to John, she was truly confused when I asked her about what she said," Mama tries to explain. "She thought Martha must have said something, and she didn't understand why we didn't know."
"Well, if she can't tell the difference between fantasy and reality we've got a problem on our hands," Papa mutters.
"I'll talk to her again," Mama says tiredly, and silently I turn and flee down the hallway.
I don't want to talk about it. Ivy's grandmother fell down the stairs and broke her leg, after I said something about it? I feel sick, as if by saying something I made it happen, and I would never want someone to get hurt, especially not Ivy's grandmother. She's always so kind to me. She tells me and Ivy wonderful stories about growing up in London and travelling all the way to America on the big boat. I feel terrible when I think about her being hurt and needing the hospital.
I'm quiet at dinner and don't eat very much. Papa tells us about his travels and Mama listens attentively, but I move the food around on my plate listlessly. Mama looks at me sharply once or twice but doesn't say anything, and I don't think Papa notices me much at all. He doesn't think daughters are very interesting. He was so pleased about Mama having another baby, but I know he's going to be disappointed when it's another girl.
After dinner I help Mama with the dishes and tidying up the kitchen. She moves slowly, and I think her back must be hurting from the baby. I ask if she wants me to make the tea and she thanks me and says yes, but instead of going into the front room to sit with Papa she sits down at the kitchen table and watches me thoughtfully.
"Alice darling," she says slowly. "How did you know Mrs MacNeil had hurt her leg? Was it…in a dream? Or did you just…think it? Or did you hear something?"
I stir the tea slowly, trying to remember. It wasn't a dream. I think maybe I saw something, or thought something… "I don't know," I say helplessly. "I really don't, Mama. Sometimes I just guess and it's right, but sometimes I just know things even though I don't know where they come from."
Mama's face is white. "Do you…know…anything else Alice?"
I stare at her. I know so many things, Mama. But do you really want to know? "The baby is a girl," I say softly, after a long pause. "She's going to have curly hair, and a mark right here." My fingers touch my cheek, down near my jaw. "Just a little one, shaped like a fish."
For a long moment Mama's eyes meet mine, and then she looks away. "I understand," she says quietly. "I believe that you see things and know things even when it makes no earthly sense that you do. I believe that you mean no harm. But Alice darling, please listen to me. You mustn't talk about these things anymore. It's not a good idea to talk about things you…well, things like you said to Mrs Mackintosh this afternoon. Do you understand?"
I nod soberly, even though it's not really true. I don't understand. I don't understand why sometimes I know things, and why people don't like me just because I tell the truth.
Mama nods and sips her tea. "Think before you speak Alice. Don't say things that will make people unhappy, or angry with you. You're a little girl, and you need to stay out of trouble. Do you think you can do that?"
"I'll try Mama."
