We Can Work It Out
Rachel came in one Saturday afternoon when the new television could be heard in the sitting room. Marilla was in the kitchen, "Anne's just watching something. I don't let her watch it through the day as a rule, but she said it was for school."
"She'll get square eyes that's what," Rachel chided. "I heard of a case over in Bright River where that happened, and the doctor is at a loss." Marilla turned the radio off and fetched a cigarette. If Rachel was going to go on like that, she needed fortification.
One cold blustery Friday afternoon Marilla was listening to a talkback radio show while she knitted. Suddenly the program was interrupted by a special news broadcast. Her knitting fell away as she listened in shock, three shots had been fired at the American presidential motorcade in Dallas, Texas and President Kennedy had been pronounced dead shortly afterwards; she felt as though nothing would ever be the same again. Marilla was not particularly political, but Kennedy always seemed like a force for good in this difficult world. Mathew found her in tears in the kitchen and rushed to her side, "what's the matter? What's happened?" He sank to a nearby chair when she told him, and they looked at each other in stunned amazement. It was Matthew who moved first, he turned on the television and they sat there watching the coverage unfold; commenting to each other when developments occurred, but otherwise speechless. When Anne burst in from school she reported they had spoken of nothing else all afternoon. A distraught teacher had brought a television set into the classroom, believing that this was an historical moment.
Everywhere they went over the next few weeks the talk was the same wherever they went; discussions about why, how and who were only intensified when the supposed assassin Lee Harvey Oswald was himself killed by an unknown assassin two days later. It was a tense time. Even though little Prince Edward Island seemed a long way from the world shattering events, folks were affected by the ramifications and wondered what would happen next. It felt to Marilla as if the very foundations of the world were crumbling.
The words I hate you hung in the air as the door slammed shut behind Anne.
"She's just testing you, Marilla," Rachel soothed later. "They all do it. She's just sorting out her boundaries."
"I suppose so. It's exhausting," Marilla said with a sigh dragging on her cigarette. "She's plastered posters all over her bedroom walls, some band called the Beetles. We can hear the music throughout the house, though I can't understand a single word, it's all wahh wahh wahhs as Matthew calls them."
"Lucy is the same. I don't know what they see in them."
"And when I talk to her about it," Marilla continued with a nod to say she'd heard Rachel. "She just slams the door in my face."
"She's a teenager, they're supposed to be defiant."
"Were we this bad?"
"It was different for us. Maybe if we asked our own mothers, they'd say we were rude and sassy too."
Marilla rested her head in her hands and heaved a great sigh. "If I'd known it was going to be like this..."
Rachel leaned over and patted her on the shoulder, "it's not all that bad. We all muddle through."
After a quiet enough start, Anne was beginning to reveal her true feisty nature. Sparks were bound to fly. Matthew found he had a new role, that of peace maker. "Now, now, he'd say to Anne. "She's just worried about you is all."
"She's driving me crazy," Anne would invariably reply. If she wanted to pull out the trump card, she could cut Marilla to the quick by exclaiming that her mother was the better parent, "Mom would have let me," she'd scream. Though Marilla was perfectly sure Bertha Shirley wouldn't have let Anne attend that dance, concert or party especially on a school night. Marilla began to feel that Anne would only be satisfied when tears sprang to her eyes. "Anne, please stop doing that," Matthew would placate. "You really hurt her feelings."
"Good!" Anne would scream back at him. "I want her feelings to be hurt. That party is really important to me. Doesn't she want me to be happy, doesn't she want me to have any friends? I hate her!"
"Well know, that's a shame. She loves you so much," Matthew would gently reply.
"If she loved me, she'd let me go." Anne's red face would intensify in the light of Matthew's sad stare. "Everyone else is going!" Anne tried to keep up the fury, but it was hard to rail against someone like placid Matthew; Marilla was a better sparring partner, she would arc up satisfactorily.
One winter's afternoon when the wind outside was howling Diana came to visit. The girls were lounging around Anne's bedroom listening to the latest Beatles album and swooning over a magazine. "Hungry?" Anne asked.
"Hey, I bought some brownie. We bought it at the church bake sale," Diana explained as she pulled the lumpy slice out of her bag.
"Oh yum, you're brilliant Di." Anne smelled the cake instead of the usual chocolately aroma it smelt a bit musty. "Does it smell a bit strange to you?"
Diana sniffed it, "smells okay to me. Don't tell me you're fussy all of a sudden?"
"No, of course not. It's delicious," Anne stuffed piece after piece of the deliciously fudgy brownie into her mouth, scooping the crumbs up with her fingers. Eventually they lay back satisfied, their mouths smeared with chocolate. Anne could feel it creamy on her lips and attempted to clean herself up a bit wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Diana could see that she didn't do a particularly good job.
Diana sniggered at the sight of Anne's chocolately chin and soon Anne joined her, though she wasn't sure what she was laughing at. The two of them collapsed onto each other giggling uncontrollably. A sense of profound joy settled over them both and they lay back on the bed looking up at the Beatle poster Anne had bought in town the other month. It was a source of much upset on Marilla's part. "What do you think of Billy?" Anne said teasingly.
Diana made an exaggerated gagging noise, "Billy? Please! I thought you'd be asking me about Gilbert?" she replied with a teasing tone. Anne tried to roll her eyes and nearly fell off the bed.
The record finished and they listened to the white noise of the record trundling around aimlessly for a minute or so before Diana clumsily got off the bed. "Careful," said Anne giggling.
"Oops, forgot about the stylus," Diana turned to Anne with a big grin on her face. It took her a few goes to get the needle back on the record and it scratched a few times, but eventually the new tones of Any Time At All were wafting around the house. "S'not my fav," Diana slurred. Anne shook her head emphatically whether because she agreed or disagreed wasn't clear, but Diana was past caring either way.
"Turn that music down!" Marilla yelled up the stairs.
Diana made to do so, but Anne arrested her movement. "She'll survive, I'm trying to educate them about good music."
"And where else better to start?"
"That's what I said."
"Anne!" Marilla called again.
There was a pause for a while then out the blue Diana asked, "Ringo, Paul, John or George?"
"John every time. He's dreamy," Anne replied.
"Thought you'd go for Ringo," said Diana with a smile.
"Ringo! As if, he's so dorky," Anne mimicked him playing the drums. Diana joined in crooning, "love me doo-ooo-ooo."
They lapsed into silence once more, Anne was transfixed by the design on her blanket; interwoven threads suggesting a myriad of worlds within. She rolled onto her stomach the better to investigate them. Slowly she traced the thread of the wool around and over and…
"Diana! Anne! Where are you?" Mrs Barry's voice
"Oh shit, that's Mom," said Diana, giggling.
"Diana? What's going on?" asked Eliza taking in the scene before her. The girls were laying on the dishevelled bed cake crumbs in their hair and smooshed into the bedclothes.
"Hi Eliza," Diana drawled.
"Yeah, hi Eliza," Anne joined her. They looked at each other and then giggled collapsing against each other and practically falling off the bed.
"Diana? What's happening. Diana! look at me when I'm talking to you."
Diana stroking her cheek ignoring her mother instead asking Anne, "is this my face?" slowly enunciating the words with great care, "have I still got a face?"
Eliza turned to face Marilla who had walked up the stairs behind her, "this is a disgraceful situation. I knew you Cuthberts were unconventional, but this is beyond the pale."
"Now, now Eliza it's not Anne's fault," Marilla said defensively.
"Of course, it's not Anne's fault," Mrs Barry rounded on Marilla. "It's yours, I can't imagine what you were doing with drugs in the house in the first place?"
"Drugs? I don't have any drugs in the house. I smoke tobacco, that's all," said Marilla indignantly.
Diana was listening to the women bicker but not really taking their words in. She looked at Anne and they burst into laughter. "Girls this is serious. Where did you get the drugs from?" Mrs Barry asked.
"Drugs Mom? We haven't taken any drugs. Have we taken any drugs Anne?" Diana turned to Anne who was shaking her head vehemently.
"Well you've got something in your system. What is it? I demand to know," Mrs Barry found the paper bag under Anne's bed pulled it out and smelt it. She went pale and turned to Marilla, "Oh dear, I must apologise. I think this is ours. We bought at the church bake sale yesterday afternoon.
Marilla crossed her arms and looked back her pointedly, "maybe this will give you pause next time you go falsely accusing someone, Eliza." They turned and looked at the girls who were giggling uncontrollably.
"I suppose I had better take her home. I am sorry, Marilla."
"Mom, I'm so hungry," giggled Diana. "Can we get some fries on our way? Bye bye Anne," she waved merrily.
"Ugh," Eliza dragged Diana out of the house.
Anne was rather giggly herself as she waved back at Diana, then she turned to Marilla speaking through a massive yawn, "mm, I'm really hungry too, Marilla," she said scratching her arm. "What's for dinner?" From personal experience Marilla knew now was not the time to take Anne to task. Instead she walked to the kitchen to start on dinner. Anne was mostly likely hungry and would wheedle until she was fed.
"What is it?"
"Let's see."
The gaggle of girls clambered around to get a better look. Anne's bedroom was crammed with teenage girls over for a slumber party.
"It's a Ouija board, you use it to talk to the spirits," Josie explained knowingly.
"Oh Josie, I don't like the sound of that," Ruby squeaked. "My mom wouldn't approve."
"You can go home if you wish, Ruby," Josie said haughtily. "It's perfectly safe, though I grant you it's also deliciously scary," she shivered as she said it her eyes alight with possibilities.
Josie explained how it worked and they all put one hand on the pointer. When it moved Tilly cried, "you moved it Josie!"
"I swear I didn't. Look where is it now?"
"Oh, it's moving towards the beginning of the alphabet," breathed Jane. The pointer stopped at B just long enough for them all to take note and then moved to the right stopping at W. "B and W? What does that mean?"
Anne went quiet then whispered, "that's my parents' initials. Bertha and Walter Shirley." She could feel all sets of eyes staring at her avidly.
It was quiet in Anne's bedroom, Marilla assumed they'd dropped off to sleep exhausted after their dance party. The music had been too loud and really too awful, but they had told Anne she might have one and a slumber party to follow so they grinned and bore it. Marilla thought she had better pop her head in just to check all was safe. She cracked the door open and was shocked to find instead of being asleep the girls were huddled around a spot on the floor, "what is going on?" asked Marilla suddenly suspicious as she flicked the light switch. The girls startled and blinked in the brightness, one of them even gave a small shriek. Marilla strode across to look over their heads. "What is that?" she said pointing at a wooden board on the floor lit by various candles.
There was a silence until Josie said bravely, "it's a Ouija board. We're trying to contact Anne's parents."
"I beg your pardon?" Marilla said frostily.
"See Miss Cuthbert we all put our hands on the pointer and the spirits tell us where to move it to," Josie explained. "So far it's spelt out B and W. We think that must mean Bertha and Walter, you know Anne's real parents. "
"What nonsense. I thought you'd have more sense. I'm disappointed in you Anne. Girls it's time for bed, but first give me that," Marilla ordered pointing at the board. "And blow out those candles they're a fire hazard." She stalked off with the board held in both hands meaning to throw it out the next day.
After everyone had gone home Marilla walked into Anne's bedroom. Anne was tidying up. She had not said one word to Marilla since their séance had been interrupted. Marilla watched her at work for a moment then walked over to help her move the bed. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.
"No," in a very small voice.
Marilla hoped Anne would come to it in her own time but she was dismayed. She expected Anne was upset at having her all her friends witness her parental authority, but honestly, she could not countenance séances being performed in her own house. "Lunch will be ready soon," she said and left Anne to it.
Anne came slowly down the stairs a quarter of an hour later. She felt very contrite but unable to think of a way to confess to Marilla. The séance had been Josie's idea. Anne was unsure how she felt about contacting her parents, what good would it do? It would have been nice to say a proper good-bye, but she didn't think she could do it with everyone crowding around. If she cried the others would think she was a baby. Tears ran down her face unbidden at the thought of it now and she tried to wipe them away with the back of her hand as she walked into the kitchen. Marilla had her back to her though she could hear Anne's slow footsteps. When she turned around Anne was visibly crying. The lunch was forgotten as she gathered the girl into her arms.
Anne was unable to speak for a while, sobbing instead on Marilla's shoulder. Marilla guided her over to a seat and they sat down together so Anne could pour the whole sorry tale out to her. Josie had brought the thing and they were all intrigued by its possibilities. Only Anne had recently lost someone, and Josie thought it would be fun, Anne gave another sob at the word 'fun' to try to contact her parents. "It was all just a game to her, Marilla. But what if I could speak to them again? What could I say with everyone crowding around?"
"I understand, Anne. If ever you could, it would be a private moment wouldn't it."
"Uh huh," Anne nodded, sniffling. Marilla reached around and pulled a tissue out of the box and handed it over to Anne who heartily blew her nose and wiped her eyes.
"I'm sorry I was cross with you Anne and I'm sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your friends. I was shocked is all."
"I'm kinda happy you did interrupt us, actually," Anne said with a small smile. "I was worried where it would end up."
"This way you can blame me and save face."
"I guess so."
"The girls will most likely feel sorry for you having such a stern mother,"
Anne grinned, "but I'll know different."
"That's right, you'll know I'm on your side. Shall we have the pie I bought for lunch? I don't want it to get burnt. Matthew will be in in a moment. Wash up now and we'll eat."
Anne looked up at her as Marilla bustled away, "I love you Marilla."
"I love you too, Anne. I'm sorry for the circumstances in which it happened but I am happy you came here to live with us," it was too stilted, but Marilla was never very good at expressing her emotions. Inwardly berating herself for her clumsy expression she continued, "I'd like us to be better friends again Anne. I feel I've lost touch with you lately. A young woman will always grow apart from her parents at some point, I understand. But I can't help thinking you resent us half the time." Anne's reply was unintelligible. Marilla plunged on regardless, "but if we can be friends again I would like that."
Anne walked over to her and silently gave her a big hug. Matthew found them embracing in the kitchen, happy that the two women he loved most in the world were reconciling, he hated it when they argued.