Читать книгу Bone Deep - Gina McMurchy-Barber - Страница 8

“So I’ve been thinking, Aunt Margaret,” I said at breakfast the next morning. “I’m sorry about the china and I want to make it up to you.” Mom beamed at me while Aunt Margaret’s eyes narrowed — pretty much what I expected.

“This plan of yours — it’s going to make up for a broken heirloom that’s almost a hundred and fifty years old?” Aunt Margaret asked dryly.

That old, eh? I could understand why she was peeved.

“Margie, let’s just hear what she has in mind,” Mom said. I started out carefully.

“I’ll bet keeping Aunt Beatrix entertained all day has been a pain — am I right?” Mom shot me a look about the same time as Aunt Margaret frowned. “Don’t get me wrong … she’s probably been a pain in a nice way.” My speech wasn’t coming out like I had rehearsed in my mind. “Anyway, I was thinking you might like some time off, so how about I do stuff with her sometimes?”

“You’ll do stuff with her? Like what?” Aunt Margaret asked doubtfully.

“You know, I could show her around Crescent Beach. I could tell her about the ancient Coast Salish who once lived here. We could visit Mr. Grimbal’s store. Maybe I could show her how to tie sailor’s knots and how to play Crazy Eights. It’ll be fun.”

Mom and Aunt Margaret looked at each other and I could tell they were talking with their eyes the way sisters do when they know exactly what the other one is thinking. Then they both started to do that snort giggle thing that runs in the family. Why did I have the feeling that maybe I should have thought this through more? I knew Aunt Beatrix was bossy and opinionated, but just how bad could it be spending time with her?

“Good morning, everyone. What’s all this joviality about?” Great Aunt Beatrix came through the kitchen doorway. She was wearing a huge nightgown that flowed around her like a floral tent and her thin white hair was wound up tight in pink curlers. I didn’t think people used those things anymore.

“Peggy, don’t you have school today?” she said when she finally took note of me.

“Nope, it’s Saturday. Remember, Aunt Beatrix?” She sighed heavily at me. What was that about? She was the one who couldn’t seem to keep the days of the week straight.

“Peggy, please don’t say ‘nope.’ You need to speak proper English during your formative years; otherwise you will develop poor grammar habits.” I bit my lip to hold in the groan. “And dear, don’t you think you’d better put something else on?” She turned to Mom, whose cheeks had turned pink. “Really Elizabeth, you can’t approve of this. She’s worn that shirt two days in a row. And shouldn’t she do something with her hair?” I felt my mussed-up hair, then looked down at my Canucks jersey. It had only a couple of dirty smudges, but otherwise was perfectly fine.

“Actually it’s the fourth day that I’ve worn this shirt, Aunt Beatrix. And unless something drastic happens to it today, I’ll probably wear it tomorrow too.” I watched her baggy eyelids widen. Aunt Margaret nervously brushed at the crumbs on the table and Mom quietly slipped out of her chair and took the dishes to the sink.

“Oh, I see. Well, in my day, children were expected to be clean and dressed appropriately. But …” She sighed. “… those days are gone. You youngsters go around with rings in your noses and eyebrows, and your arms marked up with tattoos, and wear the most atrocious things.” She looked at my jersey with her nose all wrinkled … like it smelled or something. That was the moment when I figured out what Mom and Aunt Margaret were laughing about earlier.

“Right, well, that’s very interesting. But I’m off to the library.” I saw my mom’s eyes widen. I bet she knew I was already working on how to get out of spending time with the old biddy. I needed to come up with a different plan to get those diving lessons. Just then Aunt Margaret opened her big mouth.

“By the way, Aunt Beatrix, you’ll be pleased to know that Peggy is planning to spend some time with you this afternoon and on school days when she gets home. In fact, it was her idea. So now the two of you can get to know each other better. Won’t that be nice?” The look in my Aunt Margaret’s eyes told me I’d walked right into the quicksand and she had no plans to rescue me. I jumped out of my chair and headed quickly for the back door.

“Gotta go,” I said, and whipped out the door. On the way out I heard the last of their conversation.

“Well, that’s wonderful. I’m very sure with daily guidance I can set Peggy on the right course — just as I did when you both were girls.”

Great! While I thought I’d come up with the perfect plan for softening Mom up so I could get diving lessons, in actual fact I had become an improvement project for my great aunt.

I stayed out as long as I could. First, I stopped at the library to look for books on underwater archaeology. When the librarian couldn’t find anything she offered me a book on some old guy named Jacques Cousteau. She said he was famous because he explored the oceans and was like the father of scuba diving. I figured it was worth a look. My next stop was TB’s house to use his computer to locate the Reef Dive Shop and find out about lessons — it was the nearest dive shop to home, and the best part was they had beginner lessons starting almost every week.

When I finally got home Aunt Beatrix was sitting at the kitchen table wearing her coat with the fur collar and some crazy-ugly brown shoes. On her head was a dorky feather hat. She must have been hot, which would explain the serious scowl on her pinched face.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to come,” Aunt Beatrix said curtly. “I was led to believe we would be going out this afternoon. If I’d known you were going to return so late I would have gone with your mother and Margaret. You know it’s very rude to keep people waiting.” She made an exaggerated effort to look at her watch. “I’m not even sure now if I have the energy for an outing anymore …” Brilliant, that suited me just fine. “… But I suppose I can muster the strength for a short excursion. Perhaps to that gift shop that sells antiques and aboriginal art. What’s it called?”

“Real Treasures and Gifts,” I sighed.

“Yes, that’s the place. Well, let’s get going then.” She shooed me out the door like a little kid with muddy feet.

All the way to Beecher Street Aunt Beatrix nattered on at me like a cranky parrot. Mostly it was about the broken china. She reminded me it had been in the family for six generations and that one day it might be mine. “If there’s anything left of it, that is,” she said. After a while she moved on to my dirty fingernails and torn sneakers. She’d just started giving me tips about the best way to make a good impression on my teachers when we finally arrived at Real Treasures and Gifts. I was trying to estimate how much trouble I’d get in if I just dumped her off on Mr. Grimbal and ran for it. He was just as crusty as Aunt Beatrix so they’d make a great pair.

“Hello ladies, come right in,” Mr. Grimbal said in his slick, used-car salesman voice. “And who is this charming lady with the elegant hat, Peggy?” Oh please, did he think that kind of goopy flattery actually worked? Then Aunt Beatrix giggled daintily. Hmmm, obviously he knew something I didn’t.

“Good afternoon, sir. What an interesting shop you have. Now you must tell me about these objects — are they all made by First Nations?” I could tell Mr. Grimbal was already sizing up Aunt Beatrix’s wallet and wondering if he should start with the expensive stuff.

“What a fascinating man Mr. Grimbal is,” Aunt Beatrix gushed as we walked back home. “Such a pity he doesn’t have a wife to help him. He’s just the kind of man I can relate to — educated, polite, and a successful businessman too. I do hope we’ll come visit him again, Peggy.” Gross! It sounded like Aunt Beatrix had something in mind besides shopping for souvenirs at Mr. Grimbal’s store.

All through dinner Aunt Beatrix chatted on happily about Mr. Grimbal, his store, and the ancient Coast Salish — she didn’t even mention that I was late picking her up. I was actually impressed with how much she’d learned and remembered. And I could tell Mom and Aunt Margaret were pleased with her chipper mood. That meant serious brownie points for me.

“Aunt Beatrix seemed thrilled with her outing today, Peggy,” said Mom at bedtime. Maybe this was all going to work in my favour after all. When she was finished gushing her appreciation I’d bring up the topic of scuba diving lessons. “It might well be the highlight of her trip. And it was a big help to Aunt Margaret too, as she had some important errands to get done.”

“It was my pleasure,” I lied. Then with a soft tone and as little eye contact as possible I added, “Mom, ah, there’s something I want to talk to you about.” Mom didn’t have a lot of extra cash and we were always on a tight budget — one that I’m sure didn’t include diving lessons. “TB was thinking since he lives right on one of the world’s most beautiful coasts it would be a cool thing if he learned to scuba dive. His mom really likes the idea and thought if I took lessons with him it would give him more confidence — you know, because he’s not as good a swimmer as I am. I told her that you probably couldn’t afford it, but that I’d ask you anyways.”

I twisted the details of my story as though I was tying a back hitch knot. I knew Mom was proud and didn’t like others to think she couldn’t afford to give me all the same advantages in life that kids with two parents got. So in a way I was doing her a favour.

“I wish you wouldn’t tell people that I can’t afford things. It gives a wrong impression.” Then she gazed up to the ceiling like she was calculating something in her mind. After a few minutes of silence she looked at me. “How important is this to you, Peggy? It has to be something you want to do for yourself and not just because TB is taking scuba lessons.” I jumped up and down on the sofa excitedly and held out my arms wide.

“I really want to learn to scuba dive, Mom.” Then I settled myself back down on the sofa and put on my pious face again. “But not if we can’t afford it.” Nailed it.

“Well, I have been saving some money for a new computer, but I guess I can get along with the old one for a while longer. I don’t mind as long as you’re sure this is something you’d really benefit from.” I leapt off the sofa.

“It will be the best thing in the world,” I blurted. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Just don’t forget that you promised you’d do things with your great aunt.”

“You bet — even if it kills me.”

The next morning I told TB all about my plan and the little lie I’d told. “So what about it, why don’t you see if you can take diving lessons too?” He stared at me for a few moments with a blank look and then his face suddenly lit up.

“That’s a brilliant idea. I always imagined myself a Jacques Cousteau kind of guy.”

“You know about him?”

“What, Cousteau? Well, duh. He’s only like the father of scuba diving and underwater exploration.”

“Yup, good old Jack.”

“Jacques, you mean.”

“Right. So anyway, are you sure your mom will let you?”

“Peggy, one of the few benefits of having divorced parents is when one says no, you can almost always count on the other saying yes.”

“Great. I’m going to sign up after school at the Reef Dive Shop.”

“I thought you were doing something with your Great Aunt Beatrix today.” Shoot, I’d forgotten about that.

“Hey, TB. Help me out here. Phone my house and tell my aunt that you need me to come over so we can get started on that important school project that’s due next Friday.”

“What important school project?” he said with panic in his eyes.

“There is no project dough-head. I just want you to say that so when I walk in the house and Aunt Beatrix gives me your message she won’t think anything when I tell her I can’t spend time with her today.”

“Sorry, Peggy. I don’t like lying — especially to adults. From my experience I always get caught or end up making matters worse. You’ll have to get out of this one on your own.” If he hadn’t been my best friend I’d have given him a raspberry somewhere embarrassing.

When I got home, there she was — Queen Bee-atrix — in her hat and waiting to go out. “Peggy, you’re slouching, stand up straight, dear.” I did everything to keep myself from groaning out loud. “So, where shall we wander today, dear? Mr. Grimbal suggested we take a stroll through Heron Park and have a look at the stone carvings — petroglyphs, I think he called them. It sounds delightfully primitive.” I sighed dramatically. “What? Doesn’t that sound like a good plan to you?”

“Oh, it’s not that, Aunt Beatrix. I definitely want to go see the petroglyphs with you. I’m just trying to figure out how I can do that and get my assignment done for school.”

“Assignment for school?”

“Yah, my friend TB and I have to make a diorama by tomorrow of Captain Vancouver’s voyage along the Pacific Coast.” There it was again, the perfect lie rolling effortlessly off my tongue. “Oh well, never mind, I’ll just call TB and tell him I can’t do it …”

“You’ll do no such thing. Getting homework assignments completed is absolutely paramount, Peggy. If there is anything I can teach you, it’s to take your work seriously and live up to your commitments. Now you get to it right now, do you hear young lady?” I nodded as though I was completely disappointed and about to object.

It didn’t take me long to scoot out the door, hop on my bike, and make my way towards the dive shop. I had mom sign the permission sheet that morning and write out a cheque to pay for the lessons. I pedalled as fast I could up the steep hill towards Ocean Park. I was hot when I got there but the moment I walked inside the dive shop I got goose bumps. Dangling from hooks were wet suits, masks, snorkels, and other gear. There was a guy there trying on flippers too.

“Man, these are perfect. I’m going to whiz around like a dolphin in these,” he said to the clerk. Just then she caught sight of me.

“Here to sign up for lessons?”

I nodded and held out the form and cheque.

“Great, I’ll just add your name to our list. We have a new set of lessons starting next week. But if you’re eager you can start tomorrow — we still have a few spots open in our four o’clock class.” My heart leapt.

“The sooner the better,” I sang out. “Put my name on the list for sure.” Not only was I going to start scuba diving lessons in less than twenty-four hours, I had the perfect excuse for no longer being able to spend time entertaining Aunt Beatrix after school.

When I rode into the yard I could tell it was nearly dinnertime from all the clanging going on in the kitchen. Uncle Stewart was watering the plants.

“Hi Uncle Stu, what’s up?”

“Oh, your Aunt Margaret for one thing,” he whispered. “She’s wound up tight as a top. Sure would’ve helped if you’d taken Aunt Beatrix out.”

“But I had to —” I started to explain, but he gave me the hush signal.

“Save it, Pegs. I’m just saying it would have been helpful.” I had a brief moment of feeling guilty.