Momma
always said the best place to be on a cold, windy night is safe,
in a warm bed. I'm sure glad I'm in mine tonight. The wind is
howling like a banshee and but an hour ago, I wasn't sure I'd
ever see my little house again, never mind be safe and warm.
Maybe I should start at the beginning.
There's this old lady. No one
seems to know her name, so we call her Granny Tombstone. She
hangs out in the cemetery picking wildflowers and singing off
key to herself, real quiet like. Nobody knows what she's singing.
I don't think anyone's ever gotten close enough to find out.
Most people just leave her alone.
Adults cluck their tongues and "tsk" a lot when they see her.
Momma always calls her "poor old thing." That's cause she wanders
around in these ratty old clothes that look like they're from
the Victorian age or something. She wears these white blouses
with high necked, lacy collars, ruffled fronts, long sleeves,
with long, heavy black skirts, even in the summer. And boots.
She wears these tired looking brown lace-up jobs that should've
fallen apart decades ago.
Every so often you can find her
with mud to her elbows, her upswept hair falling in straggly
clumps she doesn't seem to notice. It's like she's some escapee
from an old picture book that didn't make the trip too well.
Dani said Old Granny Tombstone
actually looked at her once when she was up in the gnarled old
elm that reaches over the far wall of the cemetery. They'd been
up there a while and gotten bored when Granny happened by. Dani
said someone whistled at her and she spun around, babbling to
herself. Then another kid called out to her from a different
part of the tree. Whoosh, she turned again, looking wildly about
her.
That's when they all started
getting in on it. They figured she couldn't see them and was
too daft to find them. So they started jeering and teasing her
and throwing small twigs and stuff at her.
Suddenly she stopped and stood
perfectly still. Dani said it was hard to tell if she was still
breathing. It was like she froze in place, one hand over her
eyes, peering towards one of the crumbling vaults at the other
end of the cemetery. It spooked them and they started scrambling
down to the safe side of the wall.
Dani was highest in the tree
and had to wait until the others cleared a place for her to
jump down to. She kept an eye on Granny Tombstone, who just
stood. And stood.
Just as Dani was ready to climb
down herself, she saw Granny turn slowly. This time, Dani froze
in place. Granny trained her cloudy blues eyes, one floating
with a mind of it's own, on the very place Dani perched, ready
to jump. Granny raised a stiff, crooked finger at her, her lips
moving all the while. Then a grim little smile crossed her haggard
features and she spoke, soft and clear. Dani said she heard
it plain as if she'd stood beside her, whispering in her ear.
"Pretty ones should be as they seem."
I didn't have the slightest clue
what that meant. I still don't. All I know is none of the other
kids heard it. Just Dani. And it shook her up something fierce.
After that, she changed. Became quiet and tense all the time.
She spent most of her time alone, off by herself, even in school.
Jeeze. It's still hard talking
about her. She was my best friend. We did everything together.
Heck! I would've been with her that day if Momma hadn't dragged
me to Aunt Katie's at the last minute. I should have been with
her. It still hurts
so much. She was my best friend. I've missed her so much since
she's disappeared.
Next
Page> Picking Posies 2
Picking Posies © 2004 Anne E. Tremblay
Illustrations ©
2004 Pam Marin-Kingsley
