Assignment #2: Implementation – Bear the consequences
October turned into November, and soon enough the last month of the year had begun. December came with a force that literally knocked St. Canard off its feet. Heavy loads of snow fell from the steel-gray sky and covered the city. It hadn't been as cold as this in a long time and the driving public regularly experienced a total gridlock. The streets and sidewalks had turned into slippery slides and news items that involved accidents were on a daily basis.
The hospitals must be busy, Elmo thought matter-of-factly as he was watching the snowflakes fall. The funeral of Eleanor's mother dated two months back and he knew that the situation was still giving her a hard time. Understandably enough. She did seem to have absorbed the loss and was also staying at her place again, yet he hadn't seen her distinctly happy since then. She spent a lot of time on the cheerleader training, which ran surprisingly smoothly. Maybe the spark of decency that inhered Preena had spoken up and told her to leave the rat girl alone? There hadn't been any adverse events in the past weeks, which unsettled Elmo a little. Usually, the bullies at school didn't give a damn about feelings. Whether the death of a relative made an exception … well, such a situation hadn't occurred yet. Elmo hoped that Eleanor was not pestered. It was bad enough that the news of her family situation got around among the students.
Just when he realized that one of the lights of the outdoor decoration wasn't on, his mother entered the kitchen with a large cardboard box in her arms. Groaning, she heaved the load onto the table, which creaked alarmingly.
"What's that?" Elmo asked, although he had an idea.
"Christmas tree decoration," Mrs. Sputterspark answered and wiped some dust off her hand.
"Isn't it a bit early?" He frowned sceptically. He had the feeling that his mother accumulated more and more over the years. Soon they could decorate two trees.
"Keep in mind that the holidays are just around the corner! All of this must be dusted off before then," she said and took a terrycloth out of her apron's pocket.
"Let me guess. That's my job?" Elmo assumed. His mother nodded and handed him the cloth, grinning.
"Awesome, thank you," he murmured. He never complained when his parents asked him to do something, but dusting and polishing was not his cup of tea.
"Well, you do want a nice Christmas dinner and a few presents, don't you?" she teased him and kissed his cheek.
"Okay, okay!" Elmo smiled. "But don't be surprised to see me with a runny nose later." Upon that, Mrs. Sputterspark just shrugged, still grinning, and left the room, whistling Christmas carols. After a while, she returned with two cups of tea and some cookies. "Say, how is Eleanor doing?"
"Well, 'good' would be lying," he replied. Irma just nodded, knowing what he meant, and dipped a gingerbread in her tea. "It will take her some more time to get over it. Her home reminds her of what happened after all. But what is she supposed to do? She doesn't want to stay with us all the time, and I can't blame her for that," Elmo said.
"She's always welcome and she knows that, right?" Irma objected. He could see it in her eyes that if it was her decision, she'd gingerly pressure the girl into it.
"Yes, but imagine how you'd feel if relatively unfamiliar people constantly invited you over just so you're not alone," he had his mother consider. She kept silent, looking thoughtful, and took another cookie. "I have to admit, though, that I don't have any other idea as to how to bring her joy," Elmo pondered and put the cloth aside. "She doesn't give me any indication. And it hurts me to see her like this."
"Why don't you just ask her if she wants to spend Christmas with us?" Mrs. Sputterspark suggested.
"Mom, I just rejected that idea! Don't you think she might cop the needle?" He perked his eyebrows up. He didn't believe that Eleanor would like the idea.
"Give it a try. You won't get anything worse than a 'no' in response," Irma answered and took a sip of her tea. She was right.
"Okay, I will ask her tomorrow. Provided that we aren't snowed off again," Elmo added, glancing out of the window. It was snowing even more now and if it stayed like this, classes would be cancelled again. He examined the light bulb once more, which was defenselessly exposed to the weather. He would fix it soon, but the poor thing would have to wait a little longer. He wasn't finished polishing the decoration yet.
When he woke up the next morning, classes were indeed cancelled, just as Elmo had expected. He had to admit that he was glad about it. Then again, he didn't know when he would see Eleanor again. After all, he wanted to submit his mother's proposal to her personally. So he decided that he would just come to see her at home.
After lunch, Elmo put on his warmest clothes as well as his scarf, hat and gloves and left the house. While riding the bus, he remembered that he hadn't made sure that Eleanor was home. So when he was standing in front of her door, ringing the bell, he searched for signs of life. The house was festively decorated, and very accurately at that. It didn't surprise him, for it was an act of compensation. Eleanor was home alone, but she made it look like her parents were still there.
He felt great relief when the door was opened. But the person to open it was not his friend, but a little rat girl, approximately elementary school age. Taken aback, he stared at the child before scrutinizing the name plate next to the door. "Johansson", it read. But as far as he could remember, Eleanor had never mentioned having a sister. Was it a new family living here, who had just forgotten to replace the name plate? Had Eleanor been able to sell her house and move that quickly?
The rat boy's confusion vanished when he heard a familiar voice call, "Annie, who is at the door?"
"A boy," the rat girl named Annie called back, not averting her bright blue eyes from him.
"A boy?" the other voice repeated and its owner stepped around the corner. Eleanor. "Hi Elmo! Nice to see you!" She let him in, and after closing the door she added, "Don't you want to introduce yourself?"
Elmo, assuming she meant him, opened his mouth to make up for his act of impoliteness, but instead the child sputtered, "Hello, I'm Annie Porter and I'm 6 years old and I live next door!"
"Hello Annie!" Elmo answered, smiling, and bent down to shake her hand. "I'm Elmo. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Are you Eleanor's boyfriend?" Annie asked right away. The rat boy looked at Eleanor, who was smiling blissfully at the little girl.
"Well ... I'm a friend of Eleanor," he said reluctantly, trying to put the emphasis just right so that she would understand him correctly. The girl's eyes widened. She had obviously overheard the "a".
"Wow!" she crowed. "Do you make out?"
"Annie!" Eleanor burst out. "Where did you learn such a word?"
"School," Annie explained herself and shrugged, as though it was normal to pick up this kind of vocabulary that early. "Also, didn't you say you love him?"
"Well, uh … I … I didn't mean it the way you understood it," Eleanor stuttered, her cheeks flushing. She glanced up at Elmo. He, too, had blushed with shame. "Look, there's a big difference. You can 'love' someone and you can 'love' someone," the female teenager defined, gesturing wildly as she did so. "Your Mommy and Daddy love each other, romantically. But I love … like Elmo ... as a friend."
"But I don't see a difference!" Annie exclaimed and crossed her small arms in front of her chest.
"You'll see what I mean when you're older." Eleanor ruffled the girl's blonde hair.
"Why does everybody say that? That's not fair, I'm not stupid!" she defended herself and bounced back into the kitchen, singing loud and flat. The little girl was too adorable, Elmo thought.
"Mr. and Mrs. Porter are downtown buying Christmas presents and I offered them to look after her so she doesn't realize that Santa Claus doesn't exist," Eleanor whispered and added a little louder, "We're baking cookies. Would you like to join us?"
"Sure!" the rat boy agreed, took of his jacket, scarf, hat and gloves and entered the spacious, cosy kitchen. Christmas carols could be heard from the radio on the countertop and the table was piled with baking ingredients and utensils. Dough was rolled out on the surface, which Annie was busy snacking on.
"Dearie, don't eat too much. You might get a tummyache," Eleanor reminded her. The girl obeyed and drew back her hands.
"May I cut out the cookies, then?" she asked and flipped the tin baking forms around. One or two of them landed on the floor.
"Of course, but don't turn the kitchen into a greater mess than it already is," Eleanor joked. Annie playfully stuck out her tongue and started cutting out stars. Her busily moving hands distracted Elmo. Kids were wonderful. He thought of the children in the street he sometimes watched when he took a break from studying.
"Which cookies would you like to bake? We're currently making cinnamon stars, almond cookies are in the oven …," Eleanor listed. Elmo looked at her. He had just realized that she had become even thinner. In school she wrapped up in thick woolen pullovers, but here, in casual clothes, it caught his eye. She truly tried her best to take her mind off her loss and even up what was gone, but it was shocking how much she neglected herself.
"What's this? 'Pepper cakes'?" Elmo inquired, surveying the book on the table.
"Pepparkakor," Eleanor corrected him. "Swedish cookies. They're comparable to gingerbread."
"Oh, that sounds good!" The rat boy nodded. "You know, ever since you agreed to teach me some Swedish one day, I've been looking forward to getting to know more about your cultural background. Even if it's just baking."
Eleanor giggled. "Well, then let us not waste time. I think our missy is nearly finished with the stars." She smiled at Annie and the girl smiled back.
"Eleanor, um … I've actually come for a reason," Elmo remarked after some time to raise the subject he wanted to address. Eleanor sat down next to him and supported her head with her hands. She appeared incredibly tired in the light that the ceiling lamp cast on her face.
"Fire away," she said and indicated to Annie to crawl into her lap. This way, they kinda looked like mother and daughter. The two female rats expectantly eyed Elmo.
"So, um ... my mother considered ... I mean .. we considered that-"
"Don't keep us in suspense!" Annie bounced up and down on Eleanor's knees. She gently told her to be quiet and the girl held still.
"- we would like to invite you over for Christmas," Elmo finished the sentence. Eleanor's expression did not alter. She seemed to have expected something like this, and so she said, "That's really kind of you and your parents and I appreciate that. But Christmas is a family affair and I don't belong to your family."
"Do you really prefer staying here? Alone?" he retorted and instantly regretted it, for his dear friend promptly looked hurt. She looked away and pulled Annie into a close hug.
"Thank you, but I can't accept your invitation," Eleanor quietly repeated and buried her nose in Annie's hair. There was an awkward pause. Only Annie moved. She alternately looked at both teenagers.
"Why not?" she finally broke the silence with her childlike innocence. They hadn't expected her to chime in and stared at her. But the little rat just fed them with a defiant gaze.
"Everybody needs a Mommy and Daddy on Christmas," she explained in a meaningful tone. "And since your Mommy and Daddy are not here, you two can celebrate together!"
If possible, Eleanor looked even more sheepish. Being enlightened about the importance of family on Christmas by a little child, of all persons, didn't leave her unmoved. She cradled the girl and closed her eyes. "You're so clever, dearie. If you say so, I can't say no."
"Word! Otherwise I'll be really sad!" Annie mock-pouted.
"All right," Eleanor chuckled and looked up at Elmo again.
"Awesome!" He smiled at both his friend and Annie. She was indeed very bright, seeing that she must have realized how much he had hoped to convince Eleanor. His notion was confirmed when the little girl gave him a wink. "Thank you," Elmo whispered to Annie on the quiet while Eleanor was checking the cookies in the oven.
"No problem," she whispered back. "I like you, you know? Please make Eleanor smile again."
Elmo beamed at her. Kids often savvied what was going on, more than we gave them credit for. And even more so, it seemed, when our self-reflection failed us.
The afternoon before Christmas Eve, Eleanor was sitting in the living room and wrapping presents. She knew that the Sputtersparks didn't expect anything, but she felt obligated to show her gratitude. After hours of pondering, she had decided to give each of the three a book with a personal dedication. It had been quite the task to find the right words to describe how thankful she was.
After she had put the presents into her bag, Eleanor closely eyed the room. She had to admit that it was hard to leave the house behind – and yet incredibly easy. So far, the rat girl had never spent Christmas outside her family. And even though the meaning of the holidays had adopted a more and more bitter taste over the years, the tradition was still important to her. Even though the family situation had been tense, even though her father had had to work, even though her mother hadn't been able to do the housecleaning or prepare dinner without her help – right now Eleanor dearly wished to have her mother and her father – her old father – around. She would visit her mother. But her father's waiting would be in vain. Eleanor didn't want anything to do with him. She had stopped counting the times she had cried over him, while at the same time asking herself why she even did that. She probably hadn't accepted yet that he had changed. He was not the father she had once known and loved. He was a murderer. The thought was not quite tangible, but any other description didn't seem right to Eleanor any further.
Relieved, the rat girl discerned the sound of the door bell. She collected her things, turned off the light and pondered whether to take Murphy with her because after all, he had always been by her side when she slept. He made her feel safe and she liked to believe that the good in her father lived on in her teddy bear. But – and the thought hurt the little girl inside her that longed for a safe support and didn't want to deal with life alone – she needed to grow up. Besides, she had also spent the other nights at Elmo's house without him. Her friend had represented Murphy in some way and he would do it again. Anytime. Thus Eleanor decided to merely say the bear goodbye and strapped her bag on. It was freezing terribly, so she wrapped herself up and glanced at the dark house one last time before following Elmo down the driveway.
After dinner, Eleanor and Elmo went upstairs to his room and carried on talking. Completely immersed in it, they didn't notice how quickly the hours passed. It was not until Eleanor tilted her head back to overcome the emergence of a stiff neck that they looked at the clock. It was past 2 am.
"We should go to bed," she suggested. "I mean, we don't want to let your parents do all the work alone tomorrow, right?"
"Well, you know that if it was up to them, you wouldn't lift a finger. You're our guest," Elmo responded.
"Sure," Eleanor sighed. "But you know my attitude."
The rat boy showed her his lopsided smile. "I guess I don't have the slightest chance to break your will?"
"Exactly," the girl chuckled and stood up in order to go to the bathroom.
After both of them had changed, Eleanor's guilty conscience piped up again. She didn't want Elmo to sleep on the floor again. It was his room and his privilege to claim the bed.
"You don't have to do that," she said while he was preparing the mattress. Elmo paused for a moment.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Let me sleep on the mattress," the rat girl offered him. "Just because I'm a girl you don't have to treat me so generously."
"Do you want me to treat you all rudely and impolitely?" he teased her. Eleanor rolled her eyes.
" You know what I mean," she said through clenched teeth.
"Okay, okay," he sighed, smiling. "But, well … you know my attitude as well."
With these words, he sat down as if to make unambiguously clear that the mattress was his sleeping accomodation, not hers. She should have known better. There was no point in telling Elmo that she felt overchallenged with the Sputtersparks' hospitality. So she slipped in his bed and lay down, facing him. The teenagers looked at each other for a while without saying a word until they realized the uselessness of their doing.
"Good night, Elmo," Eleanor whispered and turned off the light.
"Good night, Eleanor," he replied. A few minutes later, she could hear the soft rhythm of his breathing. But the rat girl was kept busy thinking. She did not regret having decided for staying at the Sputtersparks', but at the moment she devoutly wished to be treated normally. At least Elmo could do her the favor.
The next morning, Elmo was the first to wake up. He sat up, straightened himself up and slowly got to his feet to walk over to the window. The neighborhood looked like it was coated with icing, similar to a gingerbread village, and the sky was blue. A perfect Christmas Eve was ahead.
He turned around again to face the slumbering Eleanor. She held his pillow in a tight clutch. He didn't want to wake her yet, he would help his parents until she got up herself. Secretly, he knew that it was not fair, but Elmo was just as stubborn as her. He just hoped that she wouldn't react too harshly.
Just as he had expected, it was not long until Eleanor joined them. She seemed somewhat offended that no one had cared to wake her, but didn't let it show in front of Mr. and Mrs. Sputterspark. Elmo, however, had to endure her whim. Just when they had started decorating the tree, she whispered to him, "So you thought that you could keep me from helping you, eh?"
"I just wanted you to be well rested, that's all" he defended himself. It was the truth, she knew it, but Eleanor didn't give up like that. On the contrary, she shot back, "That was unfair, Elmo. I said I wanted to help. And what did you do? You ignored me!"
She let fall a red Christmas ball, which luckily survived the drop on the wooden floor. Elmo didn't dare to respond. It had not been a taunt from her, he had judged that from her tone. She was, indeed, downright angry. He hadn't meant to do that and he was sorry. He didn't want her to be upset. After all, he had promised Annie to bring back "the old Eleanor". But it was not easy when she took so small things personally. Elmo had to resolve the conflict quickly, thus he inquired when she intended to go to the cemetery.
"I dunno. I let you decide," she mumbled.
"You don't have to do that, Eleanor," the rat boy said solicitously. All of a sudden, Eleanor plunked down the tinsel she had just wanted to put on the tree.
"And you don't care what I have to do!" she hissed and sulkily crossed the arms in front of her chest. Perplexed, Elmo opened his mouth to respond, but she was quicker. "I said I don't need to sleep late. What do you do? You let me sleep, hoping that I wake up late enough. I don't want to hear that goody-goody talk anymore. 'Be my guest!', 'Let me do that for you!' ... Don't you get it? I needactivity! I need to do something or I'll go crazy!"
Elmo had not been prepared for such an outburst. He swallowed and uneasily fumbled with the hook of the Christmas ball he held in his hands. He and his parents had wanted to fix a nice and enjoyable Christmas for Eleanor, but obviously they had meant it too well. She must feel like a pampered child, wrapped up in cotton wool, unable to act without help.
"Please forgive us for being so overprotective." Elmo slowly let the Christmas ball rotate in his hands and observed the unchanging position of the highlight on the polished surface. Although Eleanor had given him an earful, he was glad that they had talked about it. She had opened his eyes. "I guess we've been a bit overzealous and haven't realized what you really need," he added.
"That's not all, Elmo. In a sense, you have tried to replace my family. Or at least so it seemed. I hope that was not your intention," Eleanor went on.
"No," Elmo answered. "We didn't want that. You mustn't forget your parents. They are a part of you and they'll always be. We can't change that and it would be cruel to try so."
Eleanor's features visibly softened. She lowered her head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped like that," she said upon seeing Elmo's sour expression.
"It's okay. I think I begin to understand you. And I promise you to be a bit more attentive from now on," he assured her. It dawned on him that he had already made this promise earlier and he felt ashamed for breaking it. He put the Christmas ball aside and said to his friend, "Do you … believe me?"
The rat girl didn't lift her head yet. Did she recall the promise? "I would like to. But first of all, please bear in mind that I'm referring to you here, Elmo, not your parents. Don't hold it against me, but I let them get away with their attempts to cocker me. It's in their parental nature." Eleanor looked at him now. "As for you, Elmo: Please give me some space. I don't want you to take me by the hand all the time."
"Good." The rat boy nodded. "But there's one more thing I need to know."
"What is it?" Eleanor asked calmly, but not without lifting her eyebrows.
"When would you like to visit your mother?" he repeated softly.
"Oh!" the girl exclaimed. "Um … in the late afternoon. Would that be okay?"
"Sure!" Elmo replied and smiled benignly.
"That would include going to church, though," Eleanor remarked sheepishly. Hopefully that wasn't too much to ask for. But once again, Elmo's smile proved her wrong.
"No problem. If you want me respectively us to come along, we'll do that." He didn't want to provoke her again. But Eleanor whispered, "I'd like you to." A slight brush emerged on her cheeks and put an extra emphasis on the timidity that inhered her request.
"Fine. I'll talk to my parents about it," Elmo said and rushed out of the room, not without sending an encouraging smile her way. Eleanor did him the biggest favor she could do him. She smiled back at him dearly.
The setting sun bathed the cemetery in a warm orange light as Eleanor, Elmo and his parents walked along the path that led to Carolyn's grave. In retrospect, the rat girl had to admit that attending the service hadn't been as soothing as she had hoped. The anticipation in the children's eyes, the stressed but happy parents who had probably run last minute errands in the morning, the elderly – all this had reminded her of last year. Going to church had, like everything on Christmas, turned into an expedient to bring the family together over the years, but it had been okay with Eleanor as long as she had both her parents around. Now she was celebrating Christmas with people who neither were strangers nor familiar enough to spend the holidays with them. As a consequence, Eleanor once again got the feeling that it wasn't right. That it had been wrong to decide for staying with the Sputtersparks. But then again, what would she have done at home?
The floral wreaths on the grave were wilted. Eleanor put down a new bouquet and lowered her head to whisper the Lord's Payer. "Merry Christmas, Mom," she added and wiped away a single tear.
On their way home, they paused every now and then to exchange good wishes and a few words. It was wonderful to see how everyone seemed to forget their sorrows for a few days. Eleanor loved the winter. Nothing illustrated the end and a new beginning as appropriately as this season did. The old year was drawing to a close, with all its worries. The beginning of the new year would be characterized by some more tension and stress due to the final exams, but in June they would finally be free. The rat girl was greatly looking forward to graduating and the start of her studies, to transitioning into an environment that she expected a more respectful treatment from. Maybe she'd eventually make some more friends. However, the friendship with Elmo would be the most important, even if their ways separated. She would ask him which universities he planned to apply for at a suitable opportunity.
Dinner was, as always, delicious. Afterwards, the family and their guest stayed at the dining room table to talk. Among the topics of conversation was guessing what each of them would get.
"I foresee a new cookbook," Irma said and drew the size of an imaginary book in the air. Everyone burst out laughing when she estimated the thickness, for the space between her thumb and her forefinger was enormous. As good as the talking and laughing did her, Eleanor got tired after a few hours and rose from her seat as soon as the first yawn escaped her. She thanked Elmo and his parents for the great day and went upstairs to get ready for bed. He wanted to stay with his folks a little longer and that was alright with her, since her good mood caused her to not change the room as usual in order to get undressed. The rat girl hummed cheerfully while brushing her teeth and gargled a medley of her favorite Christmas carols afterwards. Back in Elmo's room, she sat down on the bed and put the seam of his blanket under her feet. The light, however, was left on. She was not sure whether to wait for him or not. So far, they had always gone to bed together. Then again, she had said that she was tired and wanted to sleep. And yet she had the feeling that she wouldn't be able to sleep a wink without him. His presence made her feel unspeakably secure. But what was Eleanor supposed to do? She couldn't go back and ask him to come upstairs. Elmo would guide her back to his room, yes, but his parents would probably get an odd impression of her. And then? He would sit down next to her and wait for her to fall asleep. That notion was appealing to her. She developed the thought a bit further. Maybe he would take her hand again …
"You're still awake?" There he was, the tie in his hand, looking quite surprised.
"Yes. I was asking myself when you'd come," the rat girl answered, blushing.
"You've been waiting for me? I thought you were tired." He paused to think for a second. "Is something wrong?" he asked in a concerned voice and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"No, everything's fine," Eleanor answered and wrapped her arms around her legs. "I have no idea why I can't sleep." That was a lie, but she didn't dare to tell Elmo the truth. She looked in his dark eyes. He had once again put on his fatherly expression, but this time she didn't care. She wanted his attention. It gave her a comforting feeling. Eleanor really liked this boy. He was a wonderful friend. She could hug him without feeling shy, they could sleep in the same room without her having to worry that he would try to ... She didn't want to follow through the thought. Anyway, he was a good-hearted young man through and through who had everyone's best interests at heart.
"I'll be back in a minute," Elmo told her and left the room. Eleanor patiently waited for him to return and wish her a good night. He turned off the light before she could say the same. The rat girl lay back and closed her eyes, eagerly trying to lead her thoughts away from him.