Littermates

Littermates, 39/?
by Fannie Feazell (Scribe)

1966--Homecoming

The few days between Clyde's visit and the girls' scheduled release were spent giving the entire house a top-to-bottom cleaning. Though Nana had been feeling listless of late, it fell away and she bustled about with more energy and purpose than most people half her age.

Nana knew that the girls wouldn't arrive till that evening. Clyde would be bringing them, and he couldn't stir outside till after sunset ("Unless there's one HELL of a storm, dear lady. Then if it lets up suddenly I won't just get dry, I'll get seared."). Still, knowing that didn't stop her from being ready to greet them by early afternoon. She'd spent the day before their arrival baking, and the morning of the arrival cooking. Now there was a lavish meal of home cooked favorites either finishing up or being kept warm on the stove. Nana was sure that Clyde wouldn't have let the girls be ill fed in the asylum, but she was also firmly of the belief that institutional cooking could only go so far in satisfying.

At first she'd planned on wearing a brand new dress, but then she changed her mind. She washed and pressed an old one--the one she'd been wearing the day Milda had been coaxed away. Nana had kept her iron gray hair cut short for a long time, but she'd made a rare trip out to a salon and returned with a fluff of blueish curls that would have done a poodle proud. She'd never been one for wearing make up, either, but she'd gone into the girls' old room (she'd kept it as it had been left, only dusting and changing the sheets) and looked through Nareesha's cosmetics. She didn't attempt the eye shadow or eye liner, but she found a powder and a shade of lipstick that wouldn't look too odd on her. She used them mostly because she knew that she'd gotten a little pale and haggard lately, and she didn't want the girls to worry about her--not when they were going to have to be readjusting to life outside.

As dusk grew, Nana restlessly paced the floor in the front entry hall. She tried to sit still, perching on the edge of one of the chairs, but she found that she was working her hands in her lap, twisting her skirt, wrinkling it. Instead she stood up and continued pacing. Every now and then she'd go peek through the curtains. If she heard a car outside she had to restrain herself from throwing the door open.

Again she heard the rumble of an engine outside, and she froze, listening. This time it didn't pass by. This time it drew closer, the pitch changed to indicate that it was no longer in drive--and it shut off. Nana found that she was now too nervous to approach the door. She stood staring at it, hands clasped together in a double fist, pressed over her thudding heart. She heard the creak of floorboards out on the porch. Then there was the off-tune chime of the doorbell. She had felt as if she were about to hyperventilate, but suddenly somehow she was calm. Her girls were coming home. Her step was slow and steady as she went to the door and opened it.

Clyde Whyman was standing alone on the front porch, hands clasped behind his back, smiling at her. She'd come to like Clyde, but he wasn't at all who she wanted to see. Clyde read her correctly. He held up one finger, as if telling her to wait a moment. Then he silently stepped aside and pointed out at the street.

There was a large, dark car--one with deeply tinted windows--pulled up at the curb. Nana squinted at it through the twilight, but between the tint and the fading light she couldn't make out anything inside it. Then the back door opened. The light that flashed on inside glinted off something, and as the passenger shifted, Nana could see that it was reflecting off blonde streaks. Acacia, wearing a very short dress in narrow candy stripes of red, white, and blue, waist cinched by a wide white patent leather belt, stepped out. She paused, one hand on the open door, grinning up at Nana. She reached into the the white bag that matched her belt and ankle boots, pulled out a pair of sunglasses with wide white plastic oval frames, and slipped them on. Then she prowled up the walk. If a slink could be said to be joyous, this one was. Nana stood frozen as she approached. Finally Acacia stood before her, smiling. Nana said, "Oh, Casey. I knew you'd be the first one out. Welcome home, dear."

"Acacia reached up and removed her glasses, and as they came off her entire expression softened, gentling, and she said quietly, "Nana..."

Nana almost leaped at her, enveloping the girl in a tight hug. She felt like she was screaming, but instead she was whispering, "Milda, Milda, Milda." Milda nodded, returning her embrace, rocking the old woman slowly. Then Nana pulled back a little, studying her face and said questioningly, "Nareesha?"

One fair brow arched, and Nareesha drawled, "You don't think I'd let them leave me behind, do you, darling?" She hugged Nana again. "Oh, GOD, it's so good to see you. Nana," she whispered in the old lady's ear, "They're all CRAZY in that place."

Nana's eyes widened, then everyone on the porch burst out laughing. "Come inside, dear." Nana cast a disdainful glance at the house next door, in time to see a curtain drop back into place. "Let's not do our business in the street." They all went inside. Once she'd locked and chained the door Nana put her hands on either side of Acacia's face, tipped the girl's head down, and kissed her fervently on the forehead. Then she took a step back and said, "I understand I have a fourth girl?"

Acacia laughed and said, "Kitten? Come introduce yourself."

Acacia tucked her chin, and the white patent leather toe of her boot rubbed on the faded rug. She peeked up at Nana shyly and said, "H'lo. Youse the Nana lady, huh?"

"I certainly am," said Nana softly. "And you're little Kitten."

Kitten looked to one side, expression delighted. "Her knows!"

Nareesha said, "Yes, darling. Nana understands. You don't have to stay quiet around Nana. Well... Not unless she needs to sleep, or has a headache..."

"I don't think there'll be much of that now that you're are home," said Nana firmly. She took the girl's hand. "Do you know what I have in the kitchen?"

Kitten looked interested. "Cookies?"

"Almost always, but besides cookies."

"What?"

"Some of your namesakes--three of them."

Kitten squealed. "Baby kitties! I never gets to see baby kitties! Can I, huh?"

"Of course you may. Come along, everyone." Nana led them back into the kitchen and opened the cabinet door under the sink. "They're in here, Kitten. I know I can trust you to be gentle, and not frighten them."

Acacia spoke, rolling her eyes, "The dreaded 'I trust you'."

"I'se good," said Kitten, dropping down to sit cross-legged on the faded linoleum, peering into the shadows. She called softly, "Kittykittykitty? Bay-be?" Not taking her eyes away she said, "You said you had cookies."

Nana laughed, going over to the cookie jar. "Just one, because I have supper almost ready."

"Okay. It smells good."

"It's roast beef--very, very rare."

"Rare?"

"Nice and juicy inside."

"Goody! At the hospital they cooks it tooo long. Kittykitty? One of 'em is coming. He's black, an' he gots white on his chin, like he was messy when he drank milk."

"That'd be Beat Daddy," said Nana. Nareesha laughed, and Nana smiled. "Well, it looks a little like a goatee."

Beat Daddy had been coaxed to the front of the cabinet. Now Kitten reached out slowly and stroked his head with the tips of her fingers. The little animal looked at her curiously, sniffing at her fingers. He was confused. She smelled of both humans and cats. What was she. The girl scratched behind his ears and he squeezed his eyes, purring. Whatever she was, he decided, she was safe. He allowed her to scoop him up into her hands and cradle him against her breast. He curled into a ball, rump nestled in her palm, and spread his tiny paws on her chest, staring up at her.

Nana walked over to Clyde, who was standing in the doorway. She peered up at him for a moment, then gave him a fierce hug. "Oof!" he grunted. "Damn, woman. Are you sure you aren't a were-grizzly?"

"From now on I just might be when it comes to taking care of my girls," she replied. "That was a thank you. Now, sit down. Even if you don't eat, you can be sociable. Kitten? Why don't you put Beat Daddy down and wash your hands, then let one of your sisters help me get this supper dished up?"

Kitten was still playing with the kitten, and she didn't look up. "Vis'ters don't hafta work."

Clyde chuckled, but Nana just said, "But Kitten, you girls aren't visitors--you're family, and family helps each other."

"Oh. Yeah. Do Dr. Clyde got to help? He's a visitor."

Clyde crossed his legs and folded his arms. "So I am, Kitten. But soon I'll SORT of be family. Remember? We've discussed it."

Kitten set the kitten back in the cabinet, where it immediately began to complain. She scrambled up, all knees and elbows, completely different from the grace exhibited by her sisters, and went to wash her hands in the sink. "Yeah." She giggled. "You gonna kiss one of us on the neck, an' bite a little, an' let us drink some of your blood, an' then we go to sleep for a long time."

"And when you wake up you're like me."

She gave him a mischievious glance. "Do that mean I gets to sleep wif Joel?"

Nana shook a scolding finger at her, but Clyde grinned. "You be good, or I'll tell Joel you said that, and he'll blush himself to death."

Nareesha was drying her hands on a towel. "He turns such a lovely pink. Clyde, we so need to get Joel out here on a day pass. Nana loves us, but she likes sweet boys, too, and she'd spoil Joel rotten. What can I do, Nana?"

"Not much, dear," she replied, pouring vegetables into a serving bowl. "Dress the salad and put the rolls in the bread basket. Clyde? You CAN help, if you would. Please take the roast out of the oven. It's been keeping warm in there, and frankly I don't want to deal with trying to lift something that heavy when the pan might still be hot."

He hopped up. "I live to serve!"

Nareesha did as Nana asked, but when she came over and put a hand on the older woman's arm, it was Milda who spoke. "Nana, do I have time to... to go outside for a few minutes?"

Nana got quiet, and Clyde became watchful. He knew that all the other personalities were watching, too. They knew what Milda was really watching. Nana patted her hand and said, quietly, "Of course, dear. But just for a few minutes, yes? Supper is almost ready, and it's chilly and damp outside."

Milda slipped out the back door. After a moment Nana looked at Clyde. "Do you suppose they all went with her, or some of them stayed in here with us?"

Clyde rubbed his forehead. "I can't be sure. It depends on how worried about her they are. I'd say that if they WEREN'T worried they'd all stay inside and leave her to grieve in private. But she hasn't been out long, and I think they'll be too apprehensive. They'll worry that her renewed sorrow will drive her back into the fog." He was silent for a moment, then said, "I think they went out. I don't feel them here."

Nana looked at him. "You can feel them?" He nodded. "You think she's really more than one person, not just because of that split personality thing?" He nodded again. "Good. So do I." She turned back to the stove. "I don't feel so crazy now."

"Oh, don't go by me," said Clyde getting a pair of oven mitts. "Stand aside, Nana. I usually have sure hands, but I sure don't want to bump something and splash you with the gravy."

~*~

Milda stopped just outside the back door, staring straight out into the fast gathering night. She could just make out the elm tree at the other end of the yard. She knew what was there, and she turned her head quickly, and her eyes fell on the flowerbed along the wall of the house. "Oh," she said softly. She moved over to it and stared down at the banked mass of cream and lavender flowers. "Not tulips anymore." She sank down gracefully, sitting cross-legged on the grass, and reached out to touch one delicate, pale petal. "So pretty. Lavender. You liked lavender..." She drew in a sharp breath, then swallowed deeply and whispered, "You liked lavender, Colin. I remember, you'd sing Lavender's Blue." She plucked a sprig of lavender and brought it to her nose, sniffing. Her eyes drifted closed, and her hand closed into a fist, crushing it, making the scent even sharper and sweeter. "Oh, Colin." A tear ran down her cheek. "I miss you so much."

Nareesha and Acacia stood behind her, close to each other, watching with apprehension. "God, Casey," muttered Nareesha. "I'm scared. What if she can't handle it? What if she goes back in?"

Acacia's eyes were worried, but she said firmly, "She won't. We treat her like the most fragile one, but I'm telling you, Nareesha--she's got the hard core. It's just buried deeper than ours."

Kitten wiggled in between them, looking up at her elder sisters. "Casey, Reesha? Mildy gonna be okay?"

Nareesha stroked her messy hair. "Yes, pet."

"But her cryin'."

"Sometimes crying helps, little one."

"Could I sit in her lap? I could hug her an' make her feel better."

"Not just yet, darling. Give her a minute. If it looks like she's moving away, THEN we'll bring out the big guns."

Milda was speaking again. "I still miss you, Colin. I'll always miss you." Her spine straightened, and she wiped a tear away with the back of her hand. "But I can't go to you, because I know you wouldn't want that." She smiled faintly, and, not looking, extended a hand back. "I want you to meet my little sister, Kitten." Kitten looked up at Nareesha and Acacia, who nodded. She crept over to Milda and took her hand. Milda pulled her down to sit in her lap, wrapping her in her arms. "Colin, this is my baby sister, Kitten."

Kitten peered at the flowers, then said shyly, "H'lo. I can't see you but I knows that don't mean nothin', cause sometimes people can't see us. I knows you's there."

Milda hugged her harder. "No, sweetie. He isn't here." She looked up at the sky, gazing up into the star-speckled blackness. "He's somewhere else, somewhere better. And he's watching over us. Now." She kissed Kitten on the ear, making her giggle. "Let's go in and eat."