The Child Lives On

Chapter Eight

Familiar faces flitted by and disappeared - Mama, Daddy, Celia, Gordon and others I have known - haunting spirits moving in and out, back and forth. Though out of reach, wispy, and without substance, I gave chase and tried desperately to catch them. "Where are you?" I cried. "Over here," they said. "No, over here. Come with us." In a field by the old family farm, dandelions bloomed. I ran and ran, laughing and giggling, tumbling over, rolling, rolling, rolling, forgetting what came before. The farmhouse disappeared. A ship's deck hovered under my floating feet. The sea and sky blurred together like a child's painting smeared with little hands. Gordon stood before me. No, not Gordon, Daddy. Then again, not Daddy, Victor and Ruthie waving goodbye. Don't go! Please don't go! Hammering, hammering, hammering: Bang! Bang! Bang! What is that noise? Persistent hammering followed me wherever I roamed. What could it be? Though I tried, I couldn't outrun it. No matter where I turned, it was there. My eyes opened a crack. All was dark. The hammering continued unabated. Dragging myself from the bed, bones and muscles stiff and aching, I donned a robe and slippers. "I'll be right there," I called out, lighting a candle and shuffling wearily to the door.

On the stoop was Officer Renault, our local constable, standing straight and tall, his large chin jutting out. Emily, beside him, was almost imperceptible.

"What time is it?" I mumbled.

"Two o'clock, Madame," said the officer smartly.

"What's happening? Why are you here?"

"We caught your granddaughter dancing naked around a fire under the full moon."

"Is this some kind of joke?"

"No joke, Madame. She was with a whole gang of them."

"A whole gang of what?"

"Children dancing naked around a fire under the full moon. Like little savages, they were."

"And Emily was one of them?"

"Yes, Madame, indeed she was."

"I don't believe this."

"Perhaps you're not aware, Madame, but your granddaughter has been running with a bad crowd."

"A bad crowd... of children?"

"This isn't the first time the lot of them have been up to some sort of mischief."

"I'll keep an eye on her, I promise."

"Please do. Goodnight, Madame."

"Goodnight, officer."

He shook a finger at Emily. "Remember what I told you."

"Yes, Monsieur," she said meekly.

With a tip of his cap, he was gone.

Emily hurried by me. I followed her into the kitchen. Taking the candle from my hand, she stepped up onto a stool and lit the oil lamp on the table. "Emily," I said, "did I hear that right? You were dancing naked?"

Stepping off of the stool and grabbing a small shovel, she shoveled some coal from the coal scuttle into the stove, and pumped the bellows to urge the embers into becoming a fire. "I suppose we did get a little carried away," she said in an off-hand sort of way.

"But why?"

She pushed the stool over to the stove, stepped up onto it, and poured water from a jug into the kettle. "I don't know. It just sort of happened."

"These things don't just happen."

Stepping off the stool, and pushing it over to the table with her feet, she stepped back onto it and spooned some tea into the teapot which we kept on the table. "Jean and Pierre suggested it, and the rest of us followed right along like little lemmings. Why don't you sit down?"

Without thinking, I did as she bid. "And what, pray tell, were you doing out at this time of night?"

"Well…" She tapped her tiny chin with a tiny finger and considered for a moment. Her bright green eyes had a far-away look. "We were fishing this afternoon down by the stream, and someone mentioned the full moon, and, you know, one thing led to another.

I shook my head and sighed, "Emily, Emily, Emily, how old are you?"

She cast a sidelong glance at me. "Sixty."

"And what would you think if I was dancing naked under a full moon?"

"I would think you had lost your marbles."

"So what am I supposed to think?"

"Maybe I lost my marbles?"

Stepping down off the stool, she pushed it back to the stove, stepped up on it, fetched the kettle, which was steaming, stepped down and pushed the stool back to the table, stepped up on it, and poured the hot water into the teapot; then, stepping down, pushed the stool back to the stove, stepped up on it, and carefully set the kettle on top of the stove; then, pushing the stool back to the table, she stepped up on it, crossed her arms, and stared at the teapot, waiting for the tea to steep.

Meanwhile, I was trying to wrap my head around the idea that this normally modest child had been cavorting in the nude. What was going on in that little head of hers? I was too curious to let it go. "Were you touching or…"

"No, no touching," she said, "just dancing - wild like animals… and howling."

"Howling?"

"Like wolves."

"I don't believe this."

"We were only having a little fun."

"It's these new friends of yours, isn't it? They're leading you astray."

The tea being sufficiently steeped, she lifted the pot and poured the tea out into two cups. Then she stepped off the stool and climbed into her special chair, which was high enough so that her head was even with the rest of us (when there was a rest of us), and sat in her usual prim way, sipping the tea delicately, like an old lady. Long ago, Gordon made the chair especially for her, carefully measuring so it fit her properly, and was easy to get into and out of.

"Maybe I'm leading them astray." she said. "If Officer Renault had known my true age..."

"That was Benoit, wasn't it?"

"Yes, yes, it was."

"Didn't he recognize you?"

"Interesting you should ask. I greet him when I'm in town, but he refuses to believe I'm the same Emily he knew as a child. He'll say, "I knew a little girl like you once," and off he goes.

"If I remember correctly, he was madly in love with you."

"Puppy love."

"Puppy love?"

"Or infatuation. I've seen it from other boys. They soon grow out of it. Remember Tommy and NIgel and…"

"I remember Tommy. He used to come to the farm just to stare at us."

"He has grandchildren now."

"I know."

"So do you."

"Yes, but I'll never know them."

"You know them through their letters."

"I suppose that'll have to do."

"Your tea is getting cold."

"Hey! Don't change the subject. I'm supposed to be reprimanding you."

"If it makes you happy, give me a good tongue-lashing."

"Okay. Here goes." I shook my finger at her and tried to muster up some indignation. "Young lady, do you know what time it is?"

"It doesn't matter," she said with a shrug. "I'm taking the day off. The weeds can wait."

"What about the tonics?"

"I finished this week's batch yesterday."

"Well, alright."

"Is that it?"

"I don't have the energy. Are you going to bed?"

"Not just yet."

"Wanna do something?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Fishing."

"Kind of early, isn't it?"

"There's a full moon, remember?"

"Okay, I'll get the gear."

At around four o'clock, Emily and I walked down to the stream (about a quarter of a mile from the cottage), carrying our fishing gear, a pot of coffee, and some sandwiches. We were still there when the sun was beginning to chase the moon away. Our bucket was full of fish, so I laid my pole aside and stretched out on the bank, placing my hands behind my head.

Emily stood up, shed her clothes and jumped in the water, swimming and splashing about. I sat up and watched her, marveling at her tiny undeveloped body, which hadn't changed at all in fifty two years. Holding up my wrinkled and spotted hands in front of my face, I asked myself, Would I change places with her? I didn't have an answer. There are pros and cons to every situation. It might be nice to remain a child, but as a child, I would never have known the joys and heartaches of marriage and motherhood.

"Come in! Come in!" she shouted. "The water feels good!"

"I can't," I said. "I didn't bring my bathing clothes."

"You don't need them."

"Yes I do. What if somebody sees me?"

"Are you afraid you'll arouse someone?"

"Arouse? What do you know about that?"

"I don't know anything about it. Are you coming in?"

I stood up, walked to the edge of the stream and stuck a toe in the water. Brrr, it was cold.

"You have to jump in," said Emily, splashing water in my direction.

Looking carefully around, I made certain nobody was nearby. All was quiet, except for Emily's splashing and giggling. "I really have lost my marbles," I muttered, throwing caution to the wind. Removing my bonnet, dress and undergarments, I jumped into the water. After the initial shock, it felt invigorating and refreshing. Emily splashed water on me and I retaliated enthusiastically. We played and frolicked until one of us spotted a fisherman on the bank about a hundred yards away. You've never seen two ladies dress so quickly, laughing and giggling all the while.

As we walked hand-in-hand toward home, the sun was hovering over our little cottage. A lighthearted feeling came over me, which I hadn't felt in a long, long time. Emily and I exchanged smiles. Perhaps I was imagining it, but she seemed a little too smug. She planned this little escapade to shock me out of my doldrums, I was certain of it. You see, ever since Gordon died, I had been wallowing in self-pity. Now, Emily has never been one to browbeat or nag. In fact, she goes out of her way to avoid confrontation. So, in order to get my attention, she did something completely out of character, like dancing naked under a full moon.