Embracing Darkness (18 page)

DIRTY ELLEN! DIRTY ELLEN!

SLEEPS WITH BUGS! SLEEPS WITH BUGS!

WE HEAR SHE LIKES IT! DOESN’T SAY SHE HATES IT!

SLEEP BUGS SLEEP! SLEEP BUGS SLEEP!

The only girls who didn’t laugh or join in the singing were Macy Nugent and Evelyn Wild.

Nurse Ross rocked Ellen slowly back and forth in her arms. Ellen had finally calmed down after running around the orphanage crying and screaming and trying to pull her hair out because she believed bugs were crawling around her scalp. Nurse Ross wasn’t like Mrs. Robinson, who besides genuinely caring for the girls at Exeter Orphanage was the physical antithesis of its headmistress. Nurse Ross was short and pudgy, whereas Mrs. Robinson was tall and slender. Nurse Ross had long black hair that she wore in a huge bun. Grimalda Robinson was blond, and her hair was always braided in a circle around her crown. Nurse Ross wore tiny glasses, which made her look older than she was, whereas Mrs. Robinson never had a need for corrective lenses.

It was Nurse Ross to whom Ellen turned whenever she needed somebody, which wasn’t very often. Such times usually occurred when the “Exeter Elite” victimized her. While Mrs. Robinson was squashing the roaches and cleaning up the mess, watched by the uncontrollably giggling “Exeter Elite,” Nurse Ross gently stroked Ellen’s blond hair.

“You know, Ellen,” she said. “This is a funny place. It’s here where you feel lost, but it’s here where an orphan must be, lost or not, in order to be
found
. It’s a place where you feel unwanted, but it’s here where someone will come who’ll
want
you.”

Ellen lifted her head up and observed the subtle lines in Nurse Ross’s face. She raised an index finger up and traced one of the lines in the nurse’s forehead. A tear then escaped Ellen’s eye and ran down her cheek, which was already stained with dried ones. The kind nurse, feeling closer to Ellen than ever before, continued.

“I know you feel alone, Ellen, but I want you to know something. As long as you’re here, I’ll be here. I won’t leave you. I’ve been here a long time, and I wager I’ll be here even longer than that. I’d stay forever if my body would hold out that long. And you’ve only got another eight years here before the state considers you an adult. You’ll always find me in my room just opposite yours when you get awakened by a bad dream during the middle of the night. When the girls tease you or pull your hair, I’ll be here to make it better. At least, that is until you’re eighteen.”

Ellen kissed Nurse Ross’s cheek. She then snuggled deeply into the caretaker’s bosom, stroking the woman’s breast. Nurse Ross allowed this as she hummed a well-known lullaby to the child.

“Did you know my parents?” asked Ellen innocently. “Did you ever see them, I mean?”

Still smoothing the little girl’s hair, Nurse Ross answered, “I only remember a man dressed in a hat and raincoat. It was late at night when he arrived, and it had been raining. It was hard to see his face, but… .”

“BUT WHAT?” Ellen shouted, flailing her arms wildly.

Taken by complete surprise, Nurse Ross placed the child’s right hand back on her breast, leaned her head down, kissed Ellen’s forehead, and replied, “He didn’t look like you at all. I mean, it could have been your father, but what I remember of his face didn’t resemble yours at all. You’re too pretty to have been
his
child.”

“And my mother?” asked Ellen. “What can you tell me about her?”

Nurse Ross knew that she had already crossed the line on two counts, one being her divulging classified information and the other her allowing the child to fondle her breast. About the latter Nurse Ross wasn’t the slightest bit concerned. What preoccupied her was that she might have told Ellen too much about the stranger who had left her at the orphanage. She was afraid that Ellen would spill the truth to Grimalda Robinson about knowing more of her history than she was allowed to know.

Nurse Ross let go of Ellen’s hair and sat her upright. “There’s only one thing I can tell you about your mother, but you have to swear that you will tell no one you know this. Not any of the girls, and especially not Mrs. Robinson. If you do, it could lead to my dismissal from the orphanage, and then you’d never have me around to protect you or ease your pain. In fact, you’d never see me again!”

Ellen nodded and anxiously waited for the woman to continue what she was going to say.

“You were a twin,” said Nurse Ross. “That is, you were born along with another baby from your mamma’s belly. Two of you came out.”

At the moment, however, this fact didn’t concern Ellen. She was hoping that Nurse Ross would be able to tell her something that meant a great deal more to her.

“What was her name?” asked Ellen eagerly. “Can you tell me
that
?”

But Nurse Ross couldn’t. No one could.

As Ellen lay in bed that night, all she could think about was her mother and what her own name might be besides “____ F.” Her blanket served as the only link between her and her mother. In addition, there were the paint strokes on her wall that resembled a woman wearing a hat. Unfortunately for Ellen, that image was beginning to fade, and it now began to look like a hairy spider missing two legs. She drifted off to sleep quite easily, as the room was completely silent except for the distant shouting of the other girls outside who were tying each other up and saying, “How tight does the rope have to be before her eyes bulge?”

Ellen woke up feeling cold. She quickly realized the afghan was gone. At first Ellen assumed she had shaken it off in her sleep. However, upon not finding it under the covers, she lunged up and flung her head over the side of the bed. Nothing there either. Then she heard the clamor of distant voices, which sounded as though they were chanting, “EARN IT!”

She hastily made her way downstairs and went into the common room, where all members of the “Exeter Elite” were assembled in a semicircle in front of the fireplace where the flames reached so high that they licked the mantle. During winter all the fireplaces in the orphanage were actively used, and so at first Ellen didn’t think a roaring fire in the common room was out of the ordinary, save for its size.

“What’s going on?” Ellen asked, having temporarily forgotten about her blanket.

She couldn’t see what was going on beyond the circle’s perimeter, since the girls were lined up in tight formation. Ellen, however, managed to force her way through the ranks. What she saw next was nothing less than the worst thing she could have imagined. Amanda Bosworth was holding the afghan over the fireplace, and the other girls were chanting, “BURN IT! BURN IT! BURN IT!”

The leader of the “Exeter Elite” danced in place as she dangled Ellen’s blanket near the flames. In fact, the afghan was already beginning to get singed at the bottom corner where “BY THE HAND OF ___ F.” was inscribed. Ellen lunged forward in an attempt to prevent any further damage to the blanket.

Jumping onto Amanda, she screamed, “NO! MOMMY! MY MAMMA’S BLANKET!”

Amanda, taken by surprise, dropped the afghan as Ellen locked her arms around her tormentor’s neck and her legs around Amanda’s hips. The two fell with a loud thud onto the parquet floor. Instantly the surrounding girls became quiet. Not a sound could be heard except for the crackling fire. Everyone had turned their attention to the blanket, which was now engulfed in flames and giving off black smoke.

As the acrid fumes began to permeate the room, a few girls began to choke, holding their hands up to their faces to cover their noses and mouths. One sensible girl, Anita Rogers, shouted, “QUICK! LET’S GET OUTTA HERE BEFORE WE ALL CHOKE TO DEATH!”

Ellen stood up while Amanda Bosworth was still lying on her back at Ellen’s feet. Ellen realized that Amanda was unconscious. She became briefly hypnotized by the fire as the sole reminder of her mother was now destroyed. At first she ignored the awful stench of burning yarn and thought only of her mother. Meanwhile Amanda Bosworth, still unconscious, was beginning to choke. All of a sudden Ellen began to feel lightheaded. She closed her eyes and began to sway back and forth as a sense of indifference swept over her. In spite of the loss of her blanket, she felt
good
.

By this point Amanda was already struggling to breathe. As the black smoke filled the room, Ellen finally began to feel its effects. She squatted down on the floor where the air was a bit clearer. Though she wouldn’t admit this to herself until later, Ellen, strangely enough, wasn’t as overwhelmed by the fumes as Amanda, who was inhaling a considerable lesser amount of toxin.

Ellen pushed Amanda closer to the fireplace as she whispered in her ear, “You should burn like my blanket.” Then, still crouched down at her ear, Ellen screamed to Amanda, “Wake up!” and slapped her across the face before placing the ends of Amanda’s long hair on the hearth and running out.

The other girls had scurried back to their room, though one had called for Mrs. Robinson to come quickly. The headmistress entered the common room to see one of her “Exeter Elite” dancing wildly in the thick smoke. It was Amanda Bosworth, and her hair had caught fire. The girl was crying and desperately trying to extinguish the flames above her head.

Grimalda Robinson grabbed Amanda by the back of her shirt, and the two frantically ran outside. Once there she threw the girl head first into a snow bank. Then she took Amanda by her collar, pulled her up, and shoved her face deep into the snow. A subtle hiss, like that of a lit match thrown into water, ensued.

That night, when it came time to explain what had happened, none of the girls confessed. Each was afraid of reprisals from the other girls, so they all kept silent. Mrs. Robinson then summoned Ellen to her office. Nurse Ross brought her in, and the two sat down in front of the headmistress’s desk. Robinson, looking frazzled, her braided hair having tumbled completely out of its ornate circle, spoke first.

“I know that it was
your
blanket that was burned up in the fire, Ellen. I’d like to know how it got there.”

Ellen kept her head down. Nurse Ross put her arm over Ellen’s shoulder and gently squeezed.

“Come on, Ellen,” began Nurse Ross. “We want to help you, but you have to help us. We know how much that blanket meant to you. You always said how you believed it had been made by your mother.”

Completely ignoring Mrs. Robinson, Ellen sank her face into Nurse Ross’s side. She pressed her nose hard up against the woman’s cardigan and absorbed its scent through her nostrils. It was as much a fragrance of home and safety and love as Ellen had ever known.

Although Ellen had been furious with the girls for what they had done, she relented in seeking any further revenge. Nothing was going to bring back her lost blanket. All that was left was the memory of what it looked, felt, and smelled like.

In the end Amanda Bosworth received her comeuppance with her bald and scorched head. As for the other girls, Ellen was sure they would never bother her again for fear that she might set
their
heads on fire as well. Being a practical person, however, Ellen did fear retribution from the other girls if she said that they had stolen her blanket.

“When I went downstairs,” said Ellen, “I saw the girls sitting by the fire and keeping warm. I went over to join them. We started telling ghost stories. When it was my turn, I decided to go up in front of the fireplace and act mine out.”

She suddenly remembered the smell the burning blanket had given off, the smell of burning yarn, toxic though it was. She liked it. No, she
loved
it! The memory made her slightly euphoric and excited.

Ellen continued, more animated now. “I put my blanket over my head and pretended to be a ghost. I suppose I was standing too close to the fire, because all I remember next was Anita Rogers screaming, ‘ELLEN! YOU’RE ON FIRE!’ All the girls jumped back.” Ellen even rose from her chair and acted out the pantomime. “Then suddenly, and without thinking, I flung off the blanket, which landed in the fire. As it did, I sprang forward but didn’t see who was in front of me. It was Amanda Bosworth. I knocked into her, and we both fell down, with me on top of her. All the girls ran out because the blanket started to stink in the fire. I got up and ran out after them. I figured that Amanda would have gotten up as well. I guess she didn’t.”

Ellen sat back down in her chair and faked a yawn. “Can I go to bed now?” she asked. “I’m real tired.”

Neither Grimalda Robinson or Nurse Ross believed Ellen’s indifference to the tragedy that had befallen her afghan.

Mrs. Robinson commented, “Ellen, that blanket was everything to you. Do you mean to tell me… .”

Nurse Ross then interrupted. “Uhm, I think you’ve had a long and eventful day. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

The headmistress turned toward Ellen. “Alright, Ellen. Go to bed. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Ellen hopped up energetically from the chair and made her way to the door. She turned back to the two women, smiled, and said cheerfully, “I’m so glad Amanda’s going to be alright too. Good night.”

As she shut the door behind her, Ellen heard Mrs. Robinson say to Nurse Ross, “I should’ve thrown that goddamn blanket out when she came to us!”

En route to the dormitory, Ellen was intercepted by two of the girls, Constance and Gertrude Sawyer. No relation to one another, they had been given the same last name by Mrs. Robinson because they arrived at the orphanage as infants on the same day. Mrs. Robinson was responsible for the names of most girls in her orphanage, and she wasn’t very good at it. Four girls had the surname of Miller, Grimalda’s maiden name, and six bore the last name of Smith. The only children she did not have the privilege of naming were the few who were orphaned not as infants but as older children, who already had their own identity through records or simply through their own memory.

“What are you two doing here?” Ellen snapped.

Constance abruptly put her index finger to her mouth. “Quiet! We don’t want them to know we were listening in on your conversation.”

The two twelve-year-old girls may not have been related, but they were the best of friends, and it showed. They braided their blond hair the same way into pigtails and then brought the ends up into a loop on either side.