Footsteps on the Stairs: A Novel Page 8

  “There’s nothing wrong with the marsh,” Miss LaValle said. “In fact, it’s an ecological necessity. Fish spawn there, and birds depend on it, and the clam beds you know about. You should see all the ducks and geese in that marsh come spring and fall! Of course, it’s a mournful place, especially in bad weather—but useful, very useful.”

  “I don’t understand how they drowned,” Anne said. “Did they kill themselves?”

  “Kill themselves? What for? No. Probably some freak accident. Nobody knows exactly what happened. They were out in the dinghy, after bait fish or suchlike, and just never came back. They found the dinghy, though—nothing wrong with it. Maybe one of the girls fell in and got caught in the current and the other jumped in to try and save her, and they both were swept away. They were very close—as alike as two peas in a pod. Only eleven months’ difference between them. They even dressed alike. If their mama made Irma a blue dirndl skirt, she’d make the same one in green or red or whatever for Renee. I used to be jealous of their pretty clothes. Their mama sewed so well. It was all she could do, poor woman. She was so crippled with arthritis she couldn’t walk. The girls had to do everything around the house, plus help their father, besides going to school. They didn’t have much time for fun, let me tell you.”

  “But you think they loved each other?” I asked, thinking of how Chip had seen them fighting.

  “Oh, yes, no question. I’ve never known any two sisters closer than Irma and Renee. You never saw one without the other, and then didn’t they both fall in love with the same young man.”

  “Did they?”

  “They certainly did. He was a young teacher hired right out of college to teach English at the regional high school here. Not much of a teacher—sort of a milquetoast type, if you know what I mean—but he was nice-looking. He had a little blond brush mustache, I remember—silkiest-looking thing. I suppose he hoped it would make him look older. He had such a baby face. Anyway, the girls both had their eyes on him. He wasn’t more than five or six years older than them. I suppose they probably stole some time from their home duties to hang around him after class. You know how girls do—ask for special help they don’t need or offer to mark tests for him, whatever. And I know they had him out to the house a few times, because John Thomas came and asked me what I knew about this young man. He thought since I was going to college, I should know.” She smiled. “John had peculiar notions of what an education did for you—thought it made you different from ordinary people. He didn’t like the teacher much. John was a man’s man—gruff and hardy. Anyway, nothing much came of it all, because the young man got his draft notice despite being a teacher. That was during the Second World War. All the able-bodied young men were called up.”

  “Did he come back?” Anne asked. “After the war?”

  “Oh, no. He was killed over there. They put his name on the marker they put up by the town hall, even though he’d only been around a year or so before he got called up. But the girls drowning—that was a real tragedy. Tore the family to shreds. John had to take care of his wife all alone. She didn’t last too many years after, as I recall. Poor woman!” She shook her head. “Some people have such hard, lonely lives.”

  “Did the girls drown after the teacher was killed?” I asked. “I mean, did they know he was dead before they died?”

  “You know, I can’t recall. Let’s see. We only found out about him after the war was over, and they died during. No, I don’t suppose they knew about Kevin.”

  Anne and I looked at each other. So it probably hadn’t been suicide; enough to know that now. The story was getting me down. I had an urge to toss a funny remark out to brighten the atmosphere, but nothing struck me as even a little humorous about Irma and Renee’s lives. We ended up watching the kittens. The marmalade toughie would pounce on the little gray-and-white-striped guy, who’d escape and hide under a chair. When his wide-eyed kitten face peered around a chair leg, he got the laugh I’d wanted.

  “Anytime you children want to come play with the cats, you’re welcome so long as I’m home,” Miss LaValle said.

  I recognized our cue to leave and thanked her. We got up to go. Anne had to peel the marmalade kitten off Chip at the door. She handed it to Miss LaValle, who walked back into the house telling it, “There, now. He’ll come back to play with you some other day, silly cat.”

  “Well, we got our story all right,” I said to Anne on our way home.

  “But not the whole story.”

  “What’s left we don’t know?”

  “We still don’t know what they were fighting about or what they keep coming up the stairs after.”

  “What I don’t understand is how girls who lived on the marsh all their lives are going to just go out in a boat and drown in it. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “But now we know they didn’t commit suicide—not if they were waiting for Kevin to come home,” I said.

  “Maybe the letters you found will explain the rest.”

  “There’s a diary, too.”

  “Well, let’s get at them.” We grabbed Chip’s hands, one on either side, and ran down the hill with him yelling between us, more eager than ever to find out about our ghosts.

  Chapter 12

  Larry had returned. He was sitting at the kitchen table talking intently with Mother as if they had a lot to say to each other. We were interrupting, but Larry smiled at us anyway.

  “Did you miss me while I was gone?” he asked. He held out his arms for our welcome.

  “How’s my mother?” Anne asked after kissing him hello.

  “Fine. Things weren’t as bad as she thought. I got her straightened out and lent her some money, which should tide her over. She’s going to take a course in small business management this fall. All things considered, she’s doing okay.”

  “I’m glad you went,” Anne said. “Thank you, Daddy.” She gave him a bonus kiss. His face lit up and he hugged her affectionately. Chip had hold of Larry’s other arm, but I squeezed into the hugging group too, even though there wasn’t really room for me. Mother gave me a look that might have been disapproval, but she didn’t say anything. It struck me that she hadn’t been criticizing me much lately. Being in love might finally be softening her up—unless some miracle had happened, and my winning personality was finally getting through to her.

  “Where have you kids been this morning?” she asked.

  “Chip was spirited away by two kittens and we went looking for him,” I said. “Are we off to the beach after lunch?”

  “Definitely. The bay beach,” Larry said. “Want to do some sailing with me, Pat?”

  Mother yawned. “All I want is to sack out in the sun for a few hours. I’m still not awake.”

  Anne and I stuffed the half-dozen letters from Private Kevin Rowen and the imitation-leather diary with the gilt-edged pages into a bag. With Larry honking the horn impatiently for us, we didn’t even have a minute for a sneak preview, but I did press open the lock on the diary. It was written in neat, small handwriting. The name Irma appeared twice on the page I scanned. The diary would be Renee Thomas’s then. Bonanza!

  It didn’t occur to Anne or me to tell Larry and Mother what we’d found. If they weren’t going to believe in our ghosts, they didn’t deserve to be in on the love story either. It was our personal, private business.

  As soon as we’d spread out our beach towels and Mother had flopped down on hers, Larry asked Anne, “Want to take a walk, babes? Just you and me?”

  Anne glanced at me and then at Larry, then back at me apologetically. “Do you mind, Dodie?”

  “Me, mind? Of course not. Go right ahead.” I was burning mad that he would leave me out like that, but I wasn’t about to show it.

  “Can I come too?” Chip asked.

  “Sure, Chip,” Larry said.

  That made me the only one not welcome! Dodie, the left-over kid. Didn’t he love me even a little? Sure, he wasn’t my real father, but we had a special relationship, didn’t we? Why didn
’t he want me along too?

  As if he could read my mind, Larry backtracked and said, “You understand, don’t you, Dodie? I want to have a talk with Anne. We won’t be gone long.”

  “Go right ahead. I’m okay,” I lied. “Enjoy yourself.” Who needed a father anyway?

  He walked off. I looked down at my mother, but she wasn’t tuned into my misery, being already sound asleep. I considered diving in and swimming straight out to sea. If I’d been sure they’d be eternally sorry when I didn’t come back, I might have, but it was a very drastic final act, and I wouldn’t be around for encores. I sniffled a few times and reminded myself that, after all, they were just going for a walk, not deserting me forever. Tomorrow was another day. The show must go on. Et cetera, et cetera. Finally I grunted and settled down cross-legged. They’d left me in sole possession of the diary and the letters. At least I could satisfy my curiosity.

  Kevin’s letters weren’t too exciting. Each one was only a single folded airmail page that began “Dear Irma and Renee” and ended with “Love, Kevin.” Judging by his tone, the “love” was just a friendly closing. No red blood oozing from it. A typical letter went,

  Dear Irma and Renee,

  The food in the army is just as bad as they say it is, and I have a sergeant out to get me because I am a college man, so it’s rough, but I guess it could be rougher. At least, I’m not being shot at yet. The weather here in boot camp is even worse than the food. Two guys keeled over with the heat and had to be carried off the field yesterday, and the bugs are the best fed creatures around. They eat prime meat—us. And that’s no joke. The army sure is different from standing at a blackboard trying to get kids to understand subjunctive clauses, and I don’t have pretty girls around here to make me feel good like you used to either. Keep those letters coming,

  Love, Kevin

  I opened the diary to see if that was juicier reading. At first glance, it didn’t seem to be. In the first entries, Renee talked about Papa Thomas yelling at Irma for daydreaming instead of getting her chores done and how Renee had helped her sister stack a whole cord of firewood so Irma wouldn’t get in any more trouble. The biggest problem seemed to be their father’s bad breath. None of them dared mention it to him. If that was all she had to write about, it was no wonder the next entry was dated a year later—1943, the year she died.

  Today was the saddest day of my life. Irma and me went to see Kevin off at the bus. He is going off to be a soldier. I don’t see why they had to take him. Irma and me cried all the way home because Kevin wasn’t just our teacher, he was our best friend. We never had anyone we could talk to before except each other. We can talk to him and he always understands. We are his special girls, and he cares more about us than anybody else in his classes. I miss him so much already. Irma’s starting a letter to him. I wish I could write good like she does. She writes pages and pages. I guess I’ll start a letter to him too, but I don’t know what to say. Nothing ever happens around here worth writing about. He was the only good thing that ever came into our lives.

  On the next page, Renee had tried to write a poem, but she crossed it out. I made out the words “soldier” and “love,” which rhymed with “stars above.” Good sense crossing that out. Her next entry was undated.

  I don’t know what’s got into Irma. She’s gotten so queer since Kevin left. She walks around with her head in the clouds like she’s in a dream, and when his letter came finally, she wasn’t even going to share it with me and acted like it was meant just for her even though he put both of us on the address. I don’t understand her. I’m going to tell him, if it wouldn’t be too much to ask, for him to send a letter just for me. After what he said to me before he left, I think he would. Irma claims she gets to hold his letters because she’s oldest. There’s no arguing with her because she just zips her lip and won’t answer. I hate when she does that.

  Mama gets weaker every day it seems and now our father is thinking of leaving us here alone so he can go get a good-paying job in a defense factory somewheres. I don’t see why women always get left and men get to leave. I miss Kevin so much. All the smile is gone from my life without him.

  The next entry was partially crossed out. What was left read,

  … Everybody treats Irma and me like we’re the same person, the Thomas girls, but Kevin kept us apart right from the beginning. I knew when he went walking alone with Irma that it was just because she was oldest. I knew it even before he told me how special I am in his eyes. I would try to become a teacher like he says I should, but how’s Papa going to spare the money to send me off to school when he can’t even afford dentures? Maybe I could get a job if I could get into town somehow and save money, but I don’t think Papa would take to that idea too good. What I really want anyway is to get married. My dream is that someday Kevin will come back and he’ll see me and know I am the one for him. Then I would become Mrs. Kevin Bruce Rowen. Nothing could make me happier than that, nothing in the whole world except maybe the end of this terrible war.

  Irma and me are knitting Kevin a sweater. It’s that ugly khaki color that goes with his uniform. Irma’s letting me knit the front because I’m a better knitter than her, but something’s queer about my sister. She barely talks to me anymore, and now she’s got this box that has a lock on it, and she won’t let me see what she puts in it. She never kept secrets from me before.

  Some pages were ripped out. Then came an entry written in a shaky scrawl.

  Tonight Irma told me she and Kevin are secretly engaged. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t because it took my breath away what she told me. She says he’s promised to come back to her. She says he’s been writing her love letters secretly all along. I don’t believe her. How could he do that after what he said to me? That night when I waited by the road for him after he said goodnight to Irma, he told me that he had to pretend to prefer Irma so her feelings wouldn’t get hurt because she’s so sensitive, but in his heart I am his favorite girl. I think of that night and remember every word and how his hand touched mine. He has to remember how he said that to me. I’m going to write him and remind him. He wouldn’t forget me so soon. And I asked him who did he love better, Irma or me, and he answered me straight out, “you Renee.” It would kill Irma to know he said that so I never told her, but now she says Kevin and her are engaged. That can’t be true, but when I asked him to put a cross at the bottom of his next letter to us so I’d know he was thinking of me, he never did. Could he really be sending secret letters to Irma? How could she get them without me knowing? I don’t believe her. She’s lying just to make herself feel big.

  Wow, I thought, some loving sisters! I skipped around the handful of Kevin’s letters looking for an answer that matched the letter Renee must have written him about the engagement. He had to answer that one. Even if she had toned down the letter she actually sent him, he’d have to respond to how upset she was, wouldn’t he? But only one letter from him came near sounding like an answer.

  Dear Irma and Renee,

  What’s going on between you girls? Renee, I’m surprised at you. You sound like a jealous cat. I don’t want you fighting over me even though I’m flattered you both like me so much. But I always admired the way you Thomas girls stuck together and took care of each other. You are the closest sisters I ever have known. Don’t change that because of me. Now I’m going to tell you both how I honestly feel and it’s a lot of love for two pretty, sweet young girls who were my best students and my sweethearts while I was in my first teaching job. I don’t know how I could have gotten along without you two. So don’t let me hear any more about promises or what I said to either of you. Just you two go on loving each other like you always did, and don’t forget to mail me that sweater when you finish it.

  Your good friend, Kevin.

  The rat! Now he wasn’t even closing with “love” anymore. I picked up the diary again. There was only one more entry in the entire book, and it was full of blots and so badly scrawled that it almost didn’t look like R
enee’s handwriting.

  Today Irma told in school that Kevin and her are engaged and everybody believes her. I could scream when they ask me about it. I dared her to show me the letter where he asked her—even just the part where he said it, but she just tossed her hair and gave me that funny smile that makes me hate her. She makes up all these wild stories about what Kevin and her did before he left. She acts like he belongs just to her. I could scratch her eyes out the way she acts like he was hers all along and just kidding me. But the letters could be going to her friend, but her friend wouldn’t answer me in school when I asked if she was getting letters from Kevin for Irma, and Irma never lets me see what she’s writing to him. I’m waiting for Kevin to write me and tell me the truth. I can’t stand it not knowing, but if it’s really true, I don’t think I can stand that either.

  I flipped back through all the blank pages, but there wasn’t another entry anywhere. Why had she stopped writing? I reread Kevin’s letters. If Renee did write to him about the secret letters he was sending to Irma or anything further about the engagement, he hadn’t answered.

  I jumped when Anne sat down beside me. I’d been too wrapped up in the diary to see them coming back.

  “Want to go in for a swim with me, Dodie?” Larry asked.

  “Not right now, thanks.”

  As soon as he ran off into the water by himself, I turned to Anne. “That Kevin makes me ill,” I said. “If he were my teacher, I’d pour prune juice in his coffee every morning. What a jerk he was, treating Renee that way. He was the worst rotten rat—”

  “Dodie, what are you talking about?” Anne interrupted me.

  “Here, read this stuff.” I dumped it all in her lap. Then I rolled over on my belly and brooded. It was as if what had happened to Renee had happened all over again to me. That poor girl! They’d been so sneaky rotten to her, Kevin and her sister. But what about that Irma? Was she really engaged to Kevin? How could she have been so mean as to tell her sister about the engagement when Irma had to know how Renee felt about Kevin? Maybe Irma was a mean person, but the sisters were supposed to love each other so much. Even Miss LaValle had said that. Some love!