Review, Edit and UpdateAgain, an improved piece of writing. I'm a slow learner but I surely can learn.
I did add some detail in the first paragraph regarding the cook and the gardener at the time of Digby's memory.
All in all, I was pleased with this review.
A Child's Memory
“I was nine years old. The ladies and gentlemen were dressed all in glittering finery. The grounds, as the sun was going down, were beautiful.” Digby stood at the window in his office, looking out over the grounds. He turned to face Emelina, his face serious. “There were magnificent flower gardens then. You know, Miss Emelina, the old gardener then was magic with those flower gardens. And the vegetable gardens! Mrs.Childress, cook for Beaufort estate in those years, always had superb produce from those gardens. One of the first Samuels, the old gardener had even planted and tended a marvellous shade garden under the old redwood.” Digby’s face relaxed when he talked of the grounds.
“I must continue though. First of all, let me apologize for my behaviour last evening. I have kept my secret about the ghost, little Sarah, for over fifty years. I was shocked by your story that was almost identical to mine from decades ago. On that evening, the guests were having an early supper. Afterward, they were attending an opera in Hartley. At least that’s what Mrs. Amberton, the housekeeper said. A typical nine year old boy, the opera didn’t interest me. Father had allowed me to come with him for the evening, but I was to stay in the kitchen. And I did. Until Father came down to his office. On such evenings, Father always had more paper work to do.” Digby smiled. “Now it’s computer work not paper work…..That evening he told me, that if I helped Mrs. Childress clear away the dinner service, I could go upstairs. Of course I agreed.”
Emelina was getting a bit restless. She wanted him to get on with the story. Barely able to sleep the night before, she needed to know what had upset Digby so that he could barely function. “Go on, Digby.”
“Of course, Miss Emelina. Forgive me for wandering off topic.” Digby paced the room. “Mrs. Childress and I finished clearing away the dinner service. I told her I would stay upstairs to wait for Father. She frowned at me over her glasses. ‘Are you sure that’s all right?’ I told her that Father had said it was all right. She took the table cloth Downstairs to the laundry and I was left alone. Just as I had wanted. I strolled around the dining room, tugging at my sweater and then into the living room. I felt like the Lord of the Manor. I pretended to have a pipe in my mouth, looked over the myriad of books on the shelves and just as I was about to select one, I heard a sound like a chair scraping. ‘hello’. I froze. ‘who’s there?’ ‘My name is Sarah. What’s yours?’
I could still hear Mrs. Childress and Mrs. Amberton talking. I knew Father was still in his office. I knew all I had to do was call for help and someone would come running. This Sarah sounded young and nice, so I turned around. A girl with blonde ringlets about my age, maybe a little older, was sitting on a dining room chair that had been pushed into the living room. Then she said ‘would you help me? I can’t move all this furniture by myself.’
“I asked her why she wanted the furniture moved. ‘because the rooms are wrong. Nobody can watch me on my swing.’ So I asked her who changed the rooms. That’s when she said ‘soldiers and it always stayed.’ When I told her that it would make too much noise, she said ‘I’ll just lift them and you push them.’ It seemed to take only seconds. I was so tired and Sarah had disappeared. I didn’t know how to tell Father about her. I sat in the big wing chair in the new living room and then Father was waking me up. “James. James. It’s time to go home.” Then I heard Father whisper ‘Sarah has done this again.’ I thought I must still be asleep. Until yesterday, I thought it had to have been a dream. Father never, ever said anything to me. I stayed away from the house for a week, because even though I was sure I had been dreaming, I just felt…..not really frightened…..rather, it was more like an anxiety. One day, being very brave, I went into the house when no one was there. I climbed the stairs very slowly. All the furniture had been moved back into place.”
“Didn’t you tell anyone?”
“No. Who would believe a nine year old boy? ‘Father I was talking to a ghost that could levitate furniture?’ I hadn’t been hurt, everything was back in place, no one said anything about it. Then I knew it was only a dream.”
“Have you seen Sarah since then? You’ve been here most of your life, Digby, you must have seen her.”
“Yes, I’ve seen her. Most of the time I see her swinging from the branch of the old redwood. I have seen her at least once in the dining room. She seems suspended in time and has never asked anything of me since moving furniture. My nine year old self has held that story as a secret so tightly for so very long. Letting it out of its cage has been a great relief.” Digby brushed off both arms from shoulder to fingertips with finality.
Emelina shared her butler's relief. After that day, the upstairs furniture was rearranged the way that Sarah, and the living, preferred it.
“It’s late at night when the memory comes for me, like it always
seems to when the relief of sleep seems ready to draw me under.”
~ Joaquin Lowe, Bullet Catcher
No comments:
Post a Comment