Cottage on the Curve

Chapter Five
Grandma Always Brought Presents

“How did you ever land him?”

“What will Dad say?”

Everyone answered at once and even Mrs. Landry, their neighbor, came over to see the catch. She volunteered the use of her big wash tub as a temporary tank. A man who was visiting at Williams took the fish hook out of the turtle’s jaw, and after that he seemed quite contented in his new home. They decided to keep him until Daddy could get out to see him.

Everyone raced for the porch when Mom mentioned food. They were sprawled about in comfortable chairs finishing their lunch and laughing and talking, when all of a sudden Janie exclaimed,

“Mom, something awful happened this afternoon.”

Then she told of their adventure at the deserted house. Mom looked serious. “Oh dear, you must never go near that place again. That man is sort of an old hermit. He lives there in a chicken coop with his goat. You must be kind to him, but it would be a good idea to keep out of his way.”

“Don’t worry, Mom, we will,” said Billy, and the others agreed.

By and by the boys drifted out to the front yard to play ball. Mom sat in the lawn swing watching the sunset, and Janie read the evening paper.

Far down the road there appeared a small black car. It came closer and closer around the curve, and finally stopped at the Murray gate.

“Toot Toot!”

“Grandma!”

“Aunt Claire!”

“Daddy rode out with them!”

“We have the little cottage all ready for you!”

In the midst of all the excited greeting Mom said, “Let’s go down to the porch. Janie, you make a pot of tea for your grandmother. Boys, you help with the boxes and bags.”

There never was anything like Grandma and Aunt Claire moving out to the lake for the season. In addition to the normal load the car held a portable sewing machine, a portable phonograph, Aunt Claire’s oil paints and her water colors. There were boxes of yarn for knitting, sewing materials, and stacks of magazines containing serial stories that Grandma hadn’t quite finished reading in town. There was Aunt Claire’s fishing tackle, her camera, and Grandma’s canary bird. There were always presents for everyone, and this time was no exception.

After Grandma had finished her tea and everyone had inspected and admired “old rubber-back”, the family was assembled once more and the presents were handed out. Mom was first. She received a wide brimmed garden hat. Janie got a new swimming suit. Billy and James each got an elaborate cowboy holster with toy guns, and David found a catching mitt in his package.

Butch had a present too, but where was he? They looked all over the cottage and couldn’t find him. Davey was getting frightened.

“Oh, I hope he didn’t run out on the road,” he said. “He’ll get run over for sure.”

“Come on folks,” called Dad. “Everybody out for the big monkey hunt.”

The family spread out in the front yard calling, “Butch!” “Oh Butch!”

Davey was the first to hear the answering monkey chatter and he called the rest. There was the missing rascal, sitting on the big turtle and riding round and round in the old wash tub!

It was wonderful to have the whole family together again. In the excitement of catching the turtle and losing Butch, the purse on the cottage roof was almost forgotten, but not quite. James remembered, and his eyes grew large.

“Daddy” he cried. “Daddy! Butchie found a purse, and he hid it up on the roof of the little cottage.”

By that time the children were gathered around Dad and were all talking at once.

“Please get it down for us!”

“Mom wouldn’t let us go up there.”

“Please Daddy, can we get it now?”

“Daddy, may I go up with you?”

“Let me, Daddy, please!”

Daddy laughed and put up his arms to defend himself. “Help, help!” he cried. He finally got the story all straightened out, and he was very much interested.

“Just wait till I get some old work pants on,” he said, “and I’ll go up there and look for it while it’s still daylight.”

Billy ran to get a ladder, and the rest of the family gathered around to watch the excitement. Daddy soon came bounding up the rock garden steps in his old work pants. They were frayed and faded and there were spots of at least six different colors of paint, not counting cement, varnish and chair mending glue, but they were Dad’s favorite pants.

He called to Davey. “Send that rascal Butch up here,” he said. He climbed up to the roof of the porch. Butchie scampered up after him, but either he had forgotten where he hid the purse, or else he didn’t want Daddy to find it, because they looked and looked, and Daddy even pried up pieces of roofing, but there was no purse.

“Are you sure he put it up here?” Daddy asked. Billy and Jane said,

“Oh yes, Daddy. It’s surely there, because we saw him carry it up, and Mom was here when he came down. He had it going up, and he didn’t have it coming down. It’s surely there.”

“I’ve looked everywhere,” he said in a baffled sort of way. “Here, catch Butch,” he said, “I’m coming down.”

Butch scurried down the drain pipe, disdaining the ladder. Just as Daddy was about to start down, he hesitated and turned back for just one more look.

He walked over to where the roof of the porch joined the walls of the cottage, and he peered up under the eaves. He squinted his eyes and reached up to feel for an opening. Just then there was an angry roaring like the motors of hundreds of tiny airplanes, and Daddy came down the ladder even faster than Butch had come down the drain pipe. He ran for the front cottage like someone possessed.

“Wasps,” he whooped without slackening his speed or turning his head.

He was gone in such a hurry that they all stood gaping after him. Mr. Landry, who had been strolling down the road, stopped still in amazement. He took his pipe out of his mouth and said to Mom, “You know, Mrs. Murray, I didn’t know that a big man like your husband could run that fast.”

“He probably did break a record,” Mom said, “but he was urged on by a nest of wasps.”

They hurried down to the cottage to find Daddy safe behind the screen door. His frustrated pursuers had scattered angrily and given up the chase.

“Whew,” he gasped. “I haven’t had so much exercise since the time the Indians chased me out of town.”

“Did the Indians chase you out of town?” asked Davey. “Tell us about it.”

Daddy laughed. “I was only fooling,” he said, “but those wasps weren’t. Boy! Did I have a close shave! I tell you what we’ll do. Wait till the next time I come out, and I’ll get set for those man-eating monsters. If there’s a purse up on that roof, I’ll get it down. But—” and he wagged his finger all around the porch, “don’t any of you try to get up there while I’m gone. You all saw what almost happened to me. It’s much too dangerous.” One by one the faces, all solemn now, nodded in agreement.

The sun slipped down behind the woods on the west shore. Grandma and Aunt Claire went back to the little cottage to unpack.

“Tell us about the time you were chased by Indians, Daddy,” said the persistent David.

“No, Dad,” said Jane. “Please tell us about the deserted house.”

“Do you really want to hear about the deserted house?” asked Dad, pulling David off his shoulders. “I think maybe I could tell you a story about that.”

Janie sat at his feet, and David sat on the arm of his chair. “Well,” he began, “it happened a long time ago. Perhaps sixty or seventy years ago. You know, Oak Lake is a modest place. It always has been. But, just that once, while the Motts lived here it had an air of fashion and frivolity, like stardust sprinkled on bread and butter.

“There was a father and a mother, two pretty little girls that always wore handmade dresses that were made in Paris, and one son. Mr. Mott was a wealthy man, but he had no desire for the rush and competition of the great cities, so he brought his family here to Oak Lake to live. I’ve often thought of how amazed the people around here must have been to see that fine mansion rising in their midst. ‘Mott’s Madness’ they called it. There were stables with thoroughbred horses and a private race track, and a house full of servants.

“Even though they were far away from their friends they entertained in grand style. Twice a year they’d have a party, and their guests arrived from the east in a private car. Why, they even had their own school house. It was a comfortable two-story building a little distance away from the main house, and the governess lived in it.

“The children used to come there every day to study and to practice. One day the two little girls got off by themselves, and waded out into the lake. They didn’t know how to swim, and they drowned. The governess became frantic when she heard their cries, and in trying to save them, she drowned. It was terrible. The mother and father grieved so that they never wanted to see Oak Lake again. They packed their things, and took their son with them. They just walked out and never came back. Everything is the way they left it. It must be almost fifty years now since they went away, but there are dried roses in a vase in the old parlor. There’s an open book on a sofa, left as it was when the reader was interrupted by the cries from the lake. I’m not sure, but I think that the old man who lives there now is their son. He has had a lot of trouble. The family lost all their money. He’s involved in one law suit after the other. It’s no wonder he hates lawyers. After a long time he came back here to live, but he never lived in the big house. He lives in the chicken coop.”

Janie shivered. “Oh Daddy, how perfectly awful. Couldn’t someone do something for him, so he wouldn’t have to live in a chicken coop?” Dad smiled. “Folks have tried to help him,” he said, “but the old fellow is proud and touchy, and he wants to be left alone.”

“He sure does,” exclaimed Billy. “I’ll never forget how he chased us out of there.”

“Keep out of his way,” Daddy said. “That’s the best way to get along with him.” He picked Davey up and carried him to bed. Janie looked at Mom and drew her brows together.

“Mom,” she said. “Do you suppose that’s one of Dad’s stories, or do you suppose that’s really true?”

Mom cut off the end of her thread. “As far as I know,” she said, “that was all absolutely true.”

After a while they wandered back to see how Grandma and Aunt Claire were getting settled. Janie blinked for a moment. The mountainous load was gone and everything was in place.

“Grandma, you’re a wonder,” she exclaimed. “How did you get everything put away so fast?”

Grandma was sitting in her rocking chair, crocheting. The bowl of pansies stood on the table beside her, and her canary chirped over her head. “Petey helped me,” she said, nodding at the canary, “and Aunt Claire helped too.”

Aunt Claire was puzzled about the glass of lemonade beside her bed, and Jane explained.

“Well, it was like this. I picked the pansies for Grandma’s bedside because she likes them so much, and Davey felt that he wanted to do something too. He fixed a glass of lemonade for beside your bed, so that you would have a welcoming present too. I think by now it should be quite stale, but he was happy about it.”

Aunt Claire was touched. “Why the darling,” she said. “I’d drink it gladly, but there seems to be just a tiny spider web across the top. I know what we’ll do. We’ll use it to water Grandma’s window box. Lemons are chock full of vitamins. It should do the geraniums a lot of good.”

So, into the geraniums went Davey’s lemonade. All that summer Janie noticed that they did exceptionally well.