Violet

22

I wished I could have explained it to Lily in a way that made her see things the way I did. That I could have told her how Miss Lawrence’s asking had been different from Mr. Woods’s. It hadn’t bothered me so much, for one. It had been polite, as if she really asked instead of just insisting. It had definitely been there, though, like a gentle nudging or a pull, so I knew that she absolutely had asked—and thankfully, because of Mr. Woods, I had already known what to do.

I hadn’t said anything to Lily because I knew she wouldn’t understand. She was always so afraid of things that were dead and didn’t feel sorry for them at all. I did, though. I didn’t think Miss Lawrence wanted to be glued to the dining room floor—and she looked so sweet and kind, always waving at me and smiling, but I knew that Lily wouldn’t see it that way and would only yell at me and tell me not to help her, so that was why I didn’t tell her.

It was as if my sister thought that people didn’t matter anymore after they were dead, even though she knew that wasn’t true. Mama and Papa mattered a lot—Lily always thought of what they would have done or what they would have thought—and they weren’t even around anymore. The first time I went to see them on K2, just a few days after we learned that they were missing, the two of them were already gone, leaving only their shells behind. No matter how much I looked for them, flying over the snow, I couldn’t feel them anywhere. Now that I had learned a little more about how death worked, I knew that was a good thing. It meant that they weren’t confused or sick but had just moved on as they were supposed to. I didn’t know where they went exactly, but I was happy that they weren’t afraid to go there, even if I would have liked to have them with us still. Maybe Lily, too, would have liked that, and not been so angry at the other ghosts if Mama and Papa were ghosts, too.

At first, after Irpa and I had helped the animals, I had thought that the reason why I saw the dead was because I was going to help those who were stuck to move on or be whole, but after Mr. Woods asked and didn’t go away but only became visible to everybody, I thought maybe I was meant to help them with whatever I could. It felt like a good thing to be someone they could turn to if they were stuck in glue or wanted to go. Since most people couldn’t see them or feel them ask, I was just happy that I could.

Irpa had told me that there were lots of stuck people on the planet whom no one ever found—and others who got loose from the glue just by accident, because someone prayed for them a lot, lit a bunch of candles, or just had a barbecue in the wrong spot. Most of them just waded around in the glue, though, which didn’t seem right to me at all. Irpa showed me a newborn baby with the umbilical cord growing into its belly button, and then she showed me Miss Lawrence again, with the glue coming out of her belly, and said that the cords were the same thing, somehow. But while the umbilical cord tethered the baby to the mom, the black glue—which had been silver in life—tethered the soul to the body and the world. When someone got stuck, it became black and gooey, because the soul was dead and not supposed to exist here anymore.

I didn’t understand everything she told me, and because she didn’t use words, just images, I might have gotten some of it wrong. It felt right, though—like another half-forgotten memory—and when Miss Lawrence asked, I was happy to help her. I thought maybe she would help with Mr. Woods, too—who had totally ignored me after I helped him, which I thought was rude—and maybe make him quiet down, or at least not scare Lily and Dina so much. Even though I liked the dining room fort, I didn’t like that the others were so scared, or that we had to clean up after him all the time. He seemed to keep away from Miss Lawrence, though, and almost never went into the dining room.

On the night after Miss Lawrence asked, when everyone had gone to bed, I went down to the kitchen and searched the refrigerator again. I found some bacon and a box of beef bones, a half-eaten cream cake, two pears, and a piece of cheese that Aunt Clara had said was French and expensive, so I figured it would do. There wasn’t any more cider, but wine was easy to find, since Aunt Clara always kept a few bottles from the cellar in the pantry. I brought everything with me into the dining room and placed it on the table. I had even taken some of Aunt Clara’s good china with painted roses and gold rims out of the cupboard to put the food on, since I figured that Miss Lawrence would like it. Then I brought a petunia down from the windowsill to have dirt to pour the wine into. Next I lit one of the half-burned candles in the candelabra on the table and nodded once to Miss Lawrence, who had been watching me all the time—looking a little happier now that help was within sight—and then I closed my eyes and said the words.

“Dear lady in the dining room, please take this meat, wine, and cream cake I have brought to you. Flesh for your flesh, bone for your bones, sugar for your spirit.” My voice was shivering a little the first time I said it, but soon—when I found the rhythm—the words flowed more easily, and I lost myself to them again, barely even noticing that I was swaying on my feet. “Flesh for your flesh, bone for your bones, sugar for your spirit, flesh for your flesh, bone for your bones, sugar for your spirit, flesh for your flesh, bone for your bones, sugar for your spirit…”

It was much easier to release Miss Lawrence—probably because I wasn’t afraid of her, like I had been of Mr. Woods. It didn’t take long at all before I felt something like a champagne cork popping in my chest, and then the asking was gone and I knew that she was free. When I opened my eyes, she was still there, though, only now she was definitely happy, because she smiled and did a pirouette under the moose head, which made the pink nightgown billow around her legs. I laughed when I saw it, because she was so sweet. I wondered where she would go now, and what she would do—and what Lily would say if she saw her wandering around. I figured she would yell at me, and that, of course, turned out to be true.

My night hadn’t been over yet, though, because the food I had used was all ruined, hidden under a thick layer of mold that would have made Mama shudder all the way down to her toes. I had tiptoed out to the kitchen to get a garbage bag, then silently apologized to the petunia when I threw it in. It hadn’t survived either but looked black and as moldy as the rest. I felt sorry for not thinking of what the wine would do to it sooner, but at least I couldn’t feel it, so I knew that the petunia was gone.

Miss Lawrence, though, had still been there—standing in the same spot as before, only she looked more joyful, and the glue was gone from around her feet. She waved at me, as always, only this time it sent a whiff of upturned dirt across the polished tabletop, so I had known that she was much realer.

I hadn’t known what would happen next, though: that Dina would be so upset, or that I would have to feed Aunt Clara. Miss Lawrence hadn’t even helped with Mr. Woods, but somehow only made things worse. But even if I had known, I would still have helped her. At least she seemed much happier now that her feet weren’t stuck and she could steal Aunt Clara’s food. I knew she was angry with Aunt Clara, even if I didn’t know why, but I figured that at least this way she got a chance to let her know how she felt. Mama always said it was important to “air out old laundry” to get a fresh start with someone.