Chapter 7: Dust and Oatmeal

Ima was the complete opposite of Hamish. Petit and plump, she flittered about, fussing about with one thing until another caught her eye and she turned her attention to it. She chattered without break, not even allowing Violet the chance to answer the many questions she asked one after another. Wearing a bright yellow underdress with flowers embroidered on the hem under a deep pink over skirt and a light green apron held in place by two matching filigree broaches, she reminded Violet of a songbird trying to escape its cage.

Her home, likewise, was unlike her brothers. Whereas almost everything in the farmhouse had been made by Hamish with materials found around the farmstead and had a rustic aesthetic, Ima's home was cluttered with expertly crafted pieces that were either sanded and stained natural colors or painted with bright enamels. The chairs were upholstered with soft fabrics and comfortable. Ida served her tea using a delicate porcelain tea set free of chips and stains.

She explained to Violet that her husband had been the village blacksmith, as had his father and grandfather before. Her house was filled with the cumulation of wealth by successive generations of skilled craftsmen and their well-heeled wives. She was proud of everything in it. But It was a shame she had no children to pass it down to. Maybe Hamish's grandchildren would be the lucky recipients.

Ima's chatter paused while she took a sip of her tea and Violet took advantage of the break.

"Thank you for welcoming me into your home," she smiled. "Hamish said you might be amenable to letting me stay here until I can arrange transport to Highmoon."

"Of course, child," Ima flapped her hands, "I wouldn't hear otherwise. You must be worn out having to walk all the way from my brother's farm. I can't believe he made you walk," she snorted. "He does have a perfectly good horse." Setting aside her cup and saucer, she hopped up from her chair, "come, let me show you where you can stay, and you can freshen up and take a nap. I have taken up the habit of napping during the heat of the day. This heat is horrible on me what with my delicate constitution. Why I can hardly eat anything at all during the summer. It's no wonder I don't waste away. But I force myself to eat even when I don't feel like it. I must maintain my strength. This house won't clean itself."

Ima continued talking as she led Violet through the house. It was surprisingly large, rambling building, the original three-room structure having been added on to by each successive generation as the extended family grew. Most of the rooms were shut and the contents covered with dust now that the family had died out leaving just the widow. Violet could almost hear the laughter of ghost children playing in its empty halls and picture the hustle and bustle of the busy family. Now it just seemed sad. From time to time, she saw flashes of gray fur as large rats scurried away from the two women.

"Here we are," her host announced, pushing open a door at the end of one of the halls.

The room behind the door was just as dusty as the rest of the abandoned rooms though considerably plainer with just a simple bed, dresser, and nightstand.

"Thank you," Violet turned in the small space. "This will be perfect."

"There's a well out back where you can draw fresh water. There are linens for you to use in the nightstand. I'll leave you to settle in and freshen up. I'll meet you in the kitchen after you rest."

Without waiting on a reply, Ima shut the door, leaving Violet alone in the room. Ima was a strange bird, that was for sure. Violet wasn't sure what to make of her hospitality. It seemed genuine, but there was something a little off about it, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe she was just tired and still in shock from the events at the farm. She had told Ima about it but had glossed over the details and Lettie's accusations. Oddly enough, Ima hadn't been too upset about her brother losing his wife. Maybe Etta and Ima hadn't gotten along. Violet couldn't see practical, no-nonsense Etta having a lot of patience for Ima and her frivolities.

First things first, she told herself. The wash basin and its pitcher were covered in the same deep layer of dust as the rest of the room. Sprinkled about in the dust were large rat droppings and sticky, browned patches of urine.

"Disgusting," she wrinkled her nose.

Picking it up, she went outside to get water. The garden, once again, accented the differences between Ima and Etta. Etta's garden was dedicated to vegetables and herbs with just a few flowers that had medicinal or household uses. Everything in it had a purpose. Ima's garden was lush and meticulously maintained, but there wasn't a vegetable to be found. Full of flowers and ornamentals, many of the plants in it were toxic if consumed. Occupying a large part of the central area were large rose bushes weighted down with deep red blooms that filled the still summer afternoon with a heady scent.

The pump was easy to find just outside the door. With a few pumps of the long handle, clear water flowed from the spout. Violet held the basin and pitcher under it to wash off the accumulated grit, then filled the pitcher.

Back in the dingy room, Violet quickly washed her face and hands. Opening the drawers of the stand, she found a neatly folded stack of what her grandmother had called tea towels, similar to the courser towels Etta had used to in her kitchen. The top one was covered with the same signs of rats as the top of the nightstand. Violet took the two underneath it that were clean.

They were starched stiff and musty, but at least they were free of rat urine and feces and they were all she had. Dipping one into the basin, Violet wiped the layer of dust and filth off the stand and dresser, having to rinse the towel several times. Once all the flat surfaces were cleaned, she cleaned out one of the drawers for her few belongings, making a mental note to find something from the garden to repel the rats, maybe chrysanthemums or daffodils. Maybe she could spread some bouquets around the house to cut down on Ima's significant rodent problem.

Next, she stripped the bed, careful not to stir up the dust. Taking the bundle outside, she shook each blanket out thoroughly. Then she took them back in and remade the bed. Finding a broom in the kitchen, she swept the floor clean of dirt and droppings. She couldn't find anything to use as a dustpan, so she swept the mess into a corner. It would have to do for now and she would ask about a dustpan this afternoon.

Stripping down to her underdress, she lay down on the now clean bed and shut her eyes. She was tired from the walk, but her mind was so preoccupied with the events over the last days that sleep eluded her. When the shadows grew long on the floor, she reluctantly got up and redressed before going to look for the kitchen and Ima.

She found her host in the surprisingly large kitchen, sipping a cup of tea.

"Ah, there you are!" Ima smiled. "I thought you were going to sleep the whole day away."

"I'm sorry," Violet apologized, "I'm not used to telling time without a clock."

"A clock?" Ima looked amazed. "Where do you come from that you have clocks enough to use all the time? There's only one clock in this house and it hasn't worked for years because nobody around here knows how to repair it."

Violet had also skipped the part where she was not from Faerun when she was telling Ima her story. Now she realized that she didn't know anything about the geography of the world. Remembering one of her conversations with Lettie she spouted the only other place besides Highmoon and Hobbs Dale she knew.

"Waterdeep."

Ima raised her eyebrow and sniffed, "well, I guess you're used to indoor plumbing and candles that light themselves too. What are you doing all the way across the continent? And wearing clothes that aren't fit for a scullery maid?"

"It's a long story that I really don't feel like rehashing," she told the woman, a little offended at the slight to Etta and her daughter.

That earned her another sniff, "keep your secrets, then. But don't think this is Waterdeep and I'm your servant to wait upon you hand and foot like some lady's maid."

Really?

"Oh, I would never," Violet started.

"If it isn't beneath you," Ima interrupted, "you can help me with dinner before I starve to death."

"Helping" Ima with dinner amounted to Violet doing all the work while the other woman sat at the table and directed which she didn't mind. After all, she had just shown up on the woman's doorstep out of the blue. She was amazed that Ima was so willing to open her home to a complete stranger based on just Violet's word that Hamish knew her. The vegetable stew she made wasn't much different than that Etta made, but Ima insisted her vegetables be cut precisely and evenly and a lot more salt be added.

When Violet made the mistake of mentioning the semblance, Ima sniffed and said that it was charming that Etta would try to duplicate her old family recipe in her own rustic way. The way Ima said rustic made it sound derogatory causing Violet to bristle on behalf of Etta, but she held her tongue.

Instead, she asked, "did you know Etta before she married your brother?"

"Everyone in this village knows everyone else," Ima answered. "Yes, I knew her. Always thought she was better than everyone else. Looking down her nose at others."

That didn't seem like the Etta Violet knew, but again she kept silent.

"She was after my Ennis at first," Ima continued. "But he only had eyes for me, so she had to settle for my brother instead. Turned him against me with her pack of lies." Ima's eyes blazed with anger as she said the last. "Good riddance to her, I say!"

Violet set out the bowls and utensils, then served the stew. Ima took a taste and pronounced it acceptable, all things considered. Violet found it way too salty for her taste and only picked at it. The meal dragged on because Ima did more talking than eating. Much of her chatter was about her husband's family and how exceptionally refined they were compared to the other villagers. As Violet washed up afterwards, she went on about how difficult life was for her now that her husband had died and how hard it was for her to keep up with such a large house.

"But I feel it's my duty to keep up the image," she said. "You know, to give these poor people something to look up to and maybe aspire to be one day."

Violet was tempted to point out that Ima barely kept up with the house. From what she had seen so far, the only rooms the woman maintained at all were the ones she used. Even those left a lot to be desired. Here in the kitchen, there were cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and dirt piled up in the corners. The hearth didn't look like it had been cleaned out for months and the ash was piled up so high that it touched the bottom of the grate. She was sure she didn't want to look too closely at some of the pots that hung from the rack mounted on the wall.

After the kitchen was somewhat clean, Ima declared she was exhausted and was heading for her room for the night.

"Would you be a dear and make sure all the doors are tightly latched?" she asked Violet.

"Um, sure," Violet answered.

"Then I'll see you at breakfast," Ima patted her on the arm as she left the kitchen. "Mind you, I may not have livestock to tend to, but I don't sleep half the day away. I am much too busy to be a lay about."

Violet checked the door at the back of the kitchen, then the two other doors before returning to her room. Back in the hall, she accidentally opened the door on the opposite side of the hall instead of hers. Unlike the room Ima gave her, this room was fully decorated with a delicate bed covered with ruffles and lace. Under the layer of dust, she could still make out the pink floral pattern. The furniture was elaborately carved from a blonde wood with an inlay of lacquered flowers and woodland animals frolicking about. A graceful rocking chair stood in the corner with soft cushions and another floral blanket draped over the back. The wood floor was covered by overlapping rugs in soft pastels. A shelf held a variety of handmade dolls and stuffed animals. Whatever child this room had belonged to hadn't lacked for any comforts.

"Snooping already?" Ima asked crossly from behind Violet, making her jump.

"No," she said, shutting the door. "I got turned around and opened this door by mistake. Then I was so taken by the room, I couldn't help but stare."

Ima didn't look convinced, "that was my husband's little sister's room. The two of them were the last children raised in this house.

"Where is she now?" Violet asked.

"She was a troublemaker, that one," Ima sniffed. "Thought she was too good for the Dale Lands. She up and ran off less than a month after Ennis and I married. Never seen her again. Broke Ennis' poor mother's heart. After that, she dotted on me. Treated me like I was her natural daughter."

"You must have been a blessing for her after her daughter ran off like that."

Ima frowned, "maybe for her but it was hard on me. It fell on me to continue the family line. It's a shame none of my babies survived more than a week."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that." It was always sad when a child dies, but to lose your newborn after just a few days? That had to have been devastating for the poor woman.

"I tried my best to give my Ennis a son," Ima shook her head, "after several tries, we just couldn't bear going through it anymore. I don't think he ever got over it." Her sad expression changed quickly back the overly bright one she usually wore, "anyway, it's past my bedtime."

"Oh," Violet didn't know how to respond. "I'm sorry if I bothered you. I'll just be going to bed now." She crossed the and opened the door, breathing a faint sigh of relief when she saw it was indeed her room.

"I'm a very light sleeper," Ima warned. "It only takes the slightest noise to wake me."

"I'll try my best to be quiet."

Ima smiled at her, "I knew you were a good girl when I first laid eyes on you. See you in the morning."

Again, Violet watched as Ima made her way down the hall and turned out of sight. Then she went into her room and shut the door behind her. Her host was acting strangely, but she had been living in this big empty house alone for several years now. That was bound to make anyone a bit off.

The next morning, Violet rose with the sun, a habit she had developed while at Etta and Hamish's farm. Splashing cold water on her face from the wash basin chased the last of the cobwebs from her head, then she shook out her skirt from yesterday and got dressed for the day. She would have to ask Ima about where she could wash her clothes.

Ima wasn't waiting in the kitchen when she arrived, so she busied herself by cleaning out all the ash in the hearth. She found a broom in the corner and used it to sweep all the ash and dirt from the floor along with the piles in the corners. When she couldn't find a dustpan, she used the shovel from the hearth. At first, she was careful with the noise she made, but as the morning wore on, she ceased to take care. When she finished with the hearth and floor, she used the broom to knock down the cobwebs and upset at least two spiders in the process.

By then she was seriously hungry, not having eaten much of her stew the night before. Digging around in the pantry, she found the ingredients for griddle cakes. Finding a griddle, she scrubbed it thorough to remove hardened bits of leftover food and rust. Then she set it on the hearth to heat and whipped up the batter. When Ima finally entered the kitchen, she had a small stack of the cakes keeping warm on the mantle with butter melting on them.

"What's all this?"

"I hope you don't mind, but I made us breakfast," Violet told her as she took the last two cakes off the griddle.

"What is it?" Ima asked suspiciously, eyeing the griddle cakes.

"Griddle cakes with butter and jam."

Ima sniffed, "I always have oats with bread and jam for my breakfast. It was my mother-in-law's favorite breakfast."

Before Violet could stop her, she grabbed the plate of cakes, took them to the door, and tossed them out into the yard. Violet watched her in shock.

"Now, let me show you how to make a proper breakfast."

Again, Ima "showed" Violet how to make the meal by direction while she sipped her tea from her place at the table. She had Violet cook the oats well past the point of being done. When Violet suggested she toast the leftover bread from last night on the already hot griddle, Ima informed her that there was no reason to cook the bread twice. If it had been good enough for Ennis' family, then it was good enough for her. The resultant meal was tasteless oats with a sticky consistency and stale bread that even butter and jam could improve. Even as hungry as she was, Violet could barely make herself eat half of the meal.

After Violet had cleaned up after both meals, she asked Ima about washing clothes.

"Oh, that reminds me," Ima exclaimed jumping up. "Come with me."

She bustled Violet out of the kitchen, not mentioning her efforts to clean it, and back to her room. "Wait here," she said, "I'll be right back."

In just a few minutes, Ima was back with a bundle that she thrust at Violet.

"While you're here, you might as well dress appropriately," she announced.

"Thank you, but you don't have to…," Violet started.

"I won't hear of it," Ima interrupted her imperiously. "Go ahead and change, then meet me out back and I'll show you the washing setup."

With that, she turned and left, leaving Violet holding the clothes and her mouth half open to speak.

Unfolding the clothes, Violet found a stiffly starched muslin chemise and a gray overdress. Pulling off her clothes, she pulled on the clean ones. The chemise was scratchy and too long. If she wore it like this, it would drag the floor and the hem would stay dirty. She rolled the waist up and used the long ties of the garment to hold it in place before pulling on the overdress. It was also too long, but there wasn't much she could do about it right now. The dress and chemise together were heavier than the clothes given to her by Etta. In the heat of the summer, they would be unbearably hot. Violet vowed to change back into the other clothes once they were clean and insist Ima take these back.

Also in the bundle was an apron; Violet wasn't sure it she was supposed to wear it or not, but, not wanting to offend her host, she tied it on over the dress. Finally, a crisp white kerchief to tie over her braid, finished off the outfit. Smoothing the apron down, she picked up her dirty clothes and left the room in search of Ima.

Outside, the sun was already high in the sky and the day was warming quickly. Ima showed her how to set up for washing, exactly the same as at the farm, but Ima continued her instructions as if she didn't hear Violet's comment. By the time the woman was through, Violet was already sweating.

"Thank you," she told Ima politely. "Do you mind if I pull this over to the shade under that tree?" She pointed to a tree a few feet away, the dark shade under it beckoning her out of the sun.

Ima shook her head, "that's too close to my roses. The soap is too harsh and would certainly kill them. Besides, you don't have a lot there, it shouldn't take you long at all."

"I was admiring your roses yesterday. They are beautiful." Even if their scent was cloying in the hot air with a sickly-sweet undertone that made it almost unpleasant.

Ima visibly puffed up with pride, "yes, they are. Before I married Ennis, this was a pathetic vegetable garden. I took it upon myself to turn it into a show piece. I've always had a way with plants."

"Definitely," Violet agreed. "The bushes are so big and dense."

"It's the fertilizer," Ima told her. "I have a special blend. They just seem to thrive off it." She stared at the bushes with a fond look on her face for a moment before turning back to Violet. "Well, I'll just leave you too it. I have some things in the house that need my attention."

After Ima left, Violet drew the water from the pump and began the process of washing her clothes. In just a few minutes, sweat was running down her face and back. Surely the family didn't always do their laundry out here in the sun, she thought. They probably did it early in the morning or late in the evening to avoid the heat. She would have to remember that next time. If there was a next time.

When she picked up her underdress to wash it, she felt the heavy pendant in the pocket. She knew she had put it in the dresser with her extra clothes last night before going to bed. Once again, it had mysteriously found its way back into her pocket. She wondered what would happen if she put it around her neck. If she took it off, would it return to her neck every time? The thought made her shudder.

The door banged up and Ima came out holding a bundle. Violet quickly stuffed the pendent in her apron pocket.

"Violet dear, since you're already washing your stuff, can you do a few of mine? That way I can keep on with what I'm doing inside, and we don't waste water."

Violet stood up and wiped the sweat off her brow with her arm. Ima's bundle wasn't that big, there wasn't any reason she could do it, and she owed the woman for letting her stay here until she could arrange to travel to Highmoon.

"Sure, just put them here and I'll take care of them."

"You're such a good girl! Thank you!" Ima smiled as she dropped her bundle.

Finishing up her clothes, Violet picked up Ima's and shook them out before dropping them in the tub. The three chemises in the bundle were petal soft and lightweight. More so than the one Ima had loaned her. They made the bundle look small because they didn't have a lot of bulk. Two over dresses completed the bundle, making five garments Violet would have to wash for Ima, almost twice as much as her laundry. Sighing with resignation, she went to work scrubbing them.

When she had reached the last garment, the door opened again.

"I don't know how I missed these," Ima said, dropping two more overdresses beside Violet. "Oh," she exclaimed, seeing that Violet was on the last one, "you're fast. See, I told you it wouldn't take long."

The door shut behind her before Violet could respond. All she could do was stare after Ima with disbelief.

"I guess my idea of long and hers are a bit different," she muttered to herself reaching for one of the dresses at her feet.

By the time she finished everything and got them hung from the line strung between the house and an outbuilding, her chemise was soaked with her sweat and there were dark spots on her overdress between her breasts and armpits.

Not wanting to go back into the stuffy house, she went over to the tree and took a seat on the ground at the base of its trunk. Leaning her head back against it, she shut her eyes to enjoy the cool shade. This close to the roses, she could hear the buzzing of the bees as they flew from flower to flower collecting the nectar and pollen. The occasional hummingbird whizzed by, just brief flashes of ruby red and emerald green. Violet thought she saw a couple of pixies among the foliage, but she couldn't be sure. In addition to the bees and birds, a good many flies and gnats flew about, several landing on her and tickling her with their movements. The sicky-sweat smell was stronger from where she sat also, making her want to cut her rest short, but not enough for her to want to go back into the house.

The door banged open.

"There you are," Ima exclaimed. "I had expected you to come in when you were finished and not lay about out here." Her tone was heavy with disapproval.

"I just finished and was cooling off for a bit," Violet defended herself, pushing herself up off the ground.

"Oh, go ahead and stay there," Ima told her even though her expression said the opposite. "I'll finish up by myself."

The door slammed behind her.

Just great, Violet thought, following her.

She caught up with Ima just inside. "What can I do to help?" she asked.

"No, no," Ima flapped her hands, "I've got it. I just have to be careful, my back starts hurting when I try to do too much."

"I insist," Violet said firmly. "Give yourself a break, Ima."

"Well…," Ima hesitated.

"I'm serious. I'm the one taking advantage of your generous hospitality. Let me help. It will make me feel better."

"If you insist," the woman said reluctantly.

"I do."

Ima quit arguing. It was an odd turnabout, Violet thought. First the woman had made her feel guilty about not helping, then she practically had to beg to help. Oh, well, she had already decided Ima was odd.

Ima led her to a formal dining room. Like many of the rooms in the house, dust and rat feces covered every surface in a thick layer.

"It's been forever since I had the energy or time to clean in here," Ima said, stating the obvious. "With it in this condition, I can't have guests over for entertaining. It would be too humiliating for them to see this splendid in such a condition."

"It shouldn't take long to clean up in here." Violet looked around the room. The table dominated the room with enough seating for twelve people. The chandelier that hung over it dripped with crystals and cobwebs. Violet grimaced. Maybe a little longer, she thought. Along the wall opposite the door, there was a large, elaborately carved sideboard. Yep, definitely longer. At the end of the room, the window was covered with heavy drapes that might be a light blue but was hard to tell with the dust that covered them.

"You're such a wonderful girl," Ima beamed at her, patting her hand. "While you take care of this room, I'll go work on my sitting room."

Violet frowned. Ima's sitting room had appeared immaculate when she saw it yesterday. She couldn't imagine what Ima would need to do in there.

"I just can't have anyone seeing such a mess when they come calling. It sets the tone for the entire house, don't you agree?"

Violet nodded, "I guess."

"I knew you would," Ima patted her hand again before leaving the room in a swish of skirts.

Violet looked at the task ahead of her and sighed, "this is what I get for being nice."