Awake and Dreaming (22 page)

“I'll probably live with Rae,” said Theo tightly. “She'll probably take me back to Vancouver with her.”

“I'm sorry,” said Cecily. “Your mother has a lot of growing up to do—I could see that on the ferry.”

“I hate her!” Theo started to cry again, but more softly.

“You're allowed to feel that. But you'll just have to put up with her, unless you want to go to a foster home.”

“No,” shuddered Theo. “But I'll have to leave Victoria! And the Kaldors and Sharon and Skye …”

“Theo, I wish I could stop that happening, but I can't!”

Theo felt betrayed. “It's not fair! Why do some people
have proper families and some don't?”

“It isn't fair at all,” said Cecily. “But lots of things in life aren't fair.” She sat down on the edge of her plot. “Now listen to me, Theo. I
can
give you some hope. I think you have it in you to survive all this. I think you're special. You could be what I was—a writer.”

“A writer?” said Theo, astonished out of her anger.

“Yes! I've been thinking about this ever since our last conversation. You observe things, you make things up, you read, you're very intelligent and sensitive. And even though you have a difficult life, that's material!”

“Material? You mean cloth?”

Cecily threw back her head and laughed so hard that tears ran down her cheeks. “Oh, Theo, forgive me—I keep forgetting how young you are. Material is what a writer calls the—the
stuff,
the ingredients for a good story. Your life may have been awful and it may become awful again. But it makes a much better story than the Kaldors' easy life. Do you understand?”

Theo's head was spinning. “No, I don't.”

“You will one day. But for now just keep observing the richness you have—Vancouver and Victoria, your mother and your aunt, the Kaldors … Watch it,
use
it. The bad times and the good times, too. If you watch carefully, there are always what I call shining moments, even in hard times—moments of sheer joy, when you're just glad to be alive.”

“
Every
moment was like that when I lived with the Kaldors,” said Theo sadly.

“I'm glad I was somehow able to give you that time. It will strengthen you, remembering it.” Cecily looked intently at Theo. “There's so much I want to tell you before—” She sighed and continued. “Here's what I think, Theo. Writers are both awake and dreaming. They have to pay attention—to be mindful to all the small things in life, the
details,
whether ordinary or wonderful or terrible. Then they dream of what they can turn those details into. And if your life gets really difficult, Theo, there are two things you can do. You can force yourself to see people at a distance, like someone in a story. Then they'll lose their power over you. Or you can make up something better and escape to it.”

“I used to do that,” said Theo.

“You can do it again. When you grow up you'll have a
treasure
of stuff—of material—to shape and transform into fiction.” She sounded envious.

Theo was trying to digest her words. A writer? Her? Like Cecily? Like Arthur Ransome and E.B. White and Frances Hodgson Burnett and all the other authors she'd loved so much? A flame of excitement licked her insides.

“There's something else, Theo,” said Cecily. She stood up. “It's something painful, but I have to tell you. It's time for me to move on.”

“Move on?”

“Move on to the next stage—whatever that may be. I've been here for long enough—forty years! If my body were still alive I'd be eighty-one. That's long enough for anyone to hang onto life, even if it's only been a thread of
life for half of it.
You
need to wake up to life—I need to go to sleep for good. There's no reason for me to linger any longer. Yes, I found the story I wanted to write. But I need to be alive to do it—to be awake. You
are
alive. Maybe you'll even write down my story someday—our story.” She turned towards the sea. “I need to give it
all
up now.”

Theo scrambled to her feet. “You mean you have to die?
No,
Cecily!”

“My body is already gone,” Cecily reminded her. “It's time for the rest of me to go.”

Theo shivered. “But aren't you scared?”

“I gave up being scared of death forty years ago, Theo,” said Cecily softly. “But I don't want
you
to be frightened. Let's not talk about that any more. I want you to go home to your mother and your aunt and try to bravely accept what they've decided. One day you're going to create something wonderful. I can
feel
it. You can carry on for me. That's what I had to make sure of before I left. And Theo …” Theo lifted her tear-stained face. “There's a small task you can do for me after I leave.”

Theo tried to pay attention to Cecily's instructions. Then Cecily gazed at her tenderly, her eyes brimming. “I'm going away now, dear child. Don't forget what I've told you.”

“
Cecily
!” Theo ran over and threw her arms around Cecily—but she was clinging to air.

“Cecily …” she sobbed. “Oh, Cecily, please come back!” She flung herself in front of the grave, her tears running into the grass.

Finally she sat up and clutched her knees. She had rushed out without a jacket and the air was misty and dank. The foghorn's distant note sounded as solitary as she was.

Where should she go? She could trudge up the street to the Kaldors. They would welcome her warmly, but she couldn't bear their concern and worry. She had no one. Not Cecily, not the Kaldors, and certainly not Rae or Sharon.

Just herself … like the Cat walking by his “wild lone” …

Theo stood up and wiped the tears off her face. She picked up her bike and rode slowly back to Sharon's, thinking hard all the way.

R
AE WAS ALONE
in the apartment. “Hi, kid,” she said wearily as Theo slumped in the couch beside her. “Did you have a good time at Tara's?”

“Where's Sharon?”

“She went over to Mandy's. We had a terrible argument. I've never seen her so angry! She said some awful things to me.” Rae sniffed, and blew her nose.

Theo switched off the TV. “I was listening to you outside the door. I think everything Sharon said was right. She
shouldn't
have to live with me—she's my aunt, not my mother. You have to live with
me
.”

“I know that, Theo. We'll leave Sharon alone and go back to Vancouver tomorrow.” She looked exhausted. “We may have to live at the shelter until I can find another job.”

“No!” Theo stood in front of her mother with clenched fists. “I'm not leaving Victoria! I like it. Sharon's found us a place to live and you can look for a job here!”

“Oh, kid, I know you like Victoria, but I don't!”

“I don't care,” said Theo. “I'm more important. When I'm old enough to live on my own, you can do what you want. Right now you have to do what's best for
me
.”

Rae looked astounded. “What's got into you and Sharon tonight?”

She went into the kitchen and filled a glass from the tap. “You're both picking on me,” she whined. “It's not that easy to find a job, you know.”

Theo sat down again and waited. Rae drank her water. She came back to the living-room. “What would I
do
here? All my old friends have left. And this city has never been my style. Most of the people are so old. ‘The city of the living dead,' that's what they used to call it.”

Theo kept waiting. Rae went to the bathroom and stayed there for a long time. Finally she returned and sat down on the couch beside Theo.

“I suppose … I could give it a try. I'm too tired to argue with you.” She sighed. “I'll start job-hunting tomorrow.”

The energy drained out of Theo. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

Then, to her wonder, Rae looked abashed. “But are you sure—are you sure you
want
to live with me, Kitten? I've been a truly lousy mother! I probably should have given you up for adoption, like everyone said I should.”

“Why didn't you?” whispered Theo.

“Because I wanted you. For a selfish reason—I thought you'd give some meaning to my life. But …” Rae looked ashamed. “Babies are so scary. I didn't know what to do with you, you were so tiny and delicate—you looked breakable. And Ma and Sharon took over anyway—they knew what to do with babies. I just seemed to be in the way. So I went to live in Vancouver. I was only sixteen, remember.”

Sixteen … six years older than
she
was. Theo swallowed. “Why did you take me back, then?”

“It was on one of my visits. I did visit sometimes. And you were such a neat kid! So pretty and smart and independent. You loved listening to books and you were so good—you'd play by yourself for hours. And you seemed to like me—you sat on my knee and told me funny stories about your doll. I thought it would be fun to have you again, especially since all that baby stuff—diapers and bottles and mushy food—was over. So I took you back to Vancouver. Ma and Sharon were furious. They threatened to try to get custody of you, to say I was an unfit mother. So I moved and never gave them my address.”

Rae sighed. “But it didn't work out the way I thought it would. I could never get a good job and then I had another mouth to feed. And you didn't seem to like me the way you did when I was just a visitor. You screamed all the way to the ferry—everyone on the bus glared at me. You dug your nails into me like a fierce little wildcat—that's why I started calling you Kitten. You
talked about Ma and Sharon for months. Before Ma died, I used to phone and let you talk to her, but that made you retreat from me even more. You can imagine how that made me feel.”

“I'm sorry,” whispered Theo.

Rae sat up straighter. “Sorry! It wasn't your fault! I shouldn't have taken you! I made a mess of both our lives.”

“It wasn't all bad,” Theo said quietly. “There was the time we spent the summer at the children's camp, when you had that job washing dishes. We lived in a tent and we watched the otters playing by the sea. That was fun.”

Rae sighed again. “Yeah, it was. But there was never
much
fun, was there? It's great of you to say that, Kitten, but you may as well admit it—I've really botched it.” She lit a cigarette and Theo didn't say a word about going onto the balcony.

“I'm not sure you
should
live with me, Theo. I don't think I'm good for you. I bet Sharon would take you if
you
asked her to.”

She looked so helpless and so weak.

“Would you—would you still hit me?” said Theo. “It's
wrong
to hit children,” she added firmly, remembering Anna's words.

Rae broke down in noisy, gulping sobs. “Oh, Kitten … oh, Theo … I promise I'll never, ever hit you again!”

Theo reached out one hand and smoothed her hair. “Then I think we should stay in Victoria and live in the apartment that Sharon found.”

Rae wiped her eyes, looked up and tried to smile. “I guess you're stuck with me, then. I'll really try this time. A brand new start, all right?” She pulled Theo over to her and Theo let herself loosen inside her mother's arms.

22

“M
ake a wish, Theo!” cried Lisbeth.

Theo sat at the head of the Kaldors' dining-room table, a huge pink cake with ten candles on it in front of her. She closed her eyes.

I wish that there will be lots of other moments like this one, she thought. Then she blew out all the candles at once.

“Hurray!” Everyone clapped and Ben sang “Happy Birthday” again by himself.

“
Ten
… double digits!” said Lisbeth with awe.

Theo lifted up the knife. “Don't cut all the way, it's bad luck,” warned Anna. Sharon finished slicing the cake.

Theo swirled a delicious spoonful of peppermint sponge cake and strawberry ice cream in her mouth. She gazed down the table. Eleven other people were sitting at it, all here to celebrate
her
birthday! The six Kaldors, Rae and Sharon, and Skye, Robin and Carol. Each family had brought a dish for dinner and Sharon had made the beautiful cake.

Theo had worried about Rae meeting Laura and Dan, and Skye meeting their children—about mixing up all the people she knew in one house.

Sure enough, the first hour had been rocky. Dan
looked uncomfortable as Carol ranted about how the university treated women. Theo watched Laura suppress her scorn at Rae's outfit—shocking pink bike shorts with a matching halter top. She saw how disapproving Dan and Laura looked when they sent John to find something to use as an ashtray.

When Skye began gushing over Lisbeth's Barbie collection, Anna said coolly, “You still play with Barbies? Even Lisbeth is tired of them.” The Kaldors kept staring at Rae. They treated Theo gingerly, as if they had just met her.

But as the afternoon went on, Theo tried not to worry about how some of them rubbed against each other. Each of her family and friends was unique, that was all. Their discomfort wasn't
her
fault. She tried to distance herself, as Cecily had suggested. It wasn't easy, but it began to work a little. She became interested, instead of embarrassed, at observing everyone's interactions.

She couldn't remember ever having a real birthday party before. Some years Rae had bought a cake and candles; last year she'd forgotten completely. Theo tried not to think of that.

Today her mother had given her a white bathing suit covered with yellow flowers. “We'll go swimming this summer,” she said. “I'll take you to Beaver Lake, where I used to go.”

Sharon had bought Theo her first watch. Theo kept glancing at the important weight on her wrist. Skye had given her some barrettes with rainbow streamers on them.
Robin and Carol had given her felt pens that changed colours. Ben drew her a picture of a dinosaur, Lisbeth and Anna had pooled their allowance to buy her a novel she'd wanted, and John had made her a flute out of a piece of bamboo.