The Doll in the Garden

Chapter 10

Kristi's Revenge

FOR A FEW SECONDS I felt as if I had just stepped out of a dark movie theater into the blazing noontime sun. I could barely see, and I was so dizzy I had to sit down. The world spun, and I clung to the grass, nauseated.

Gradually the trees stopped swaying, and I could look around me without feeling sick. I saw the stairs to our apartment, I saw the tree in Kristi's yard, I saw Mom's car in the driveway - all the familiar things whose presence I'd taken for granted until Snowball led me away from them. I was back, and to my relief nothing was changed.

I took a deep breath and looked behind me at the hedge. Its leaves fluttered in the breeze and from somewhere in its green depth a chorus of locusts droned. Cautiously I stood up and peered through a gap in the branches.

I saw no house, no garden, no Louisa - just a field grown tall with weeds, the same field I saw whenever I looked out my window. Rubbing my eyes hard with my fists, I looked again, half expecting to see the house take shape, but the field kept its secrets. Queen Anne's lace swayed where the roses had grown, black-eyed Susans and day lilies bent their heads where the bench had been. Instead of Louisa, a butterfly hung in the air between me and the elm tree which once sheltered her house.

Had I been dreaming after all? I shook my head. Louisa had been as real as Kristi. I'd felt her hand on my arm, her white dress had brushed against my leg, I'd held Elfrieda in my arms. It had all happened, I was positive.

As a car roared down the street, I forced myself to push through the hedge again. I had to find Louisa, I had to tell her I knew where Anna Maria was. And somehow, like it or not, I had to return the doll to her. She needed her more than I did, more than Kristi did, more than Carrie ever had.

This time, nothing changed when I stepped into the field. The sun shone as brightly as ever, the heat pressed down on me, and the weeds stayed weeds.

I called Louisa's name softly, but there was no answer except the twitter of birds and the rustle of leaves. The sound of my voice seemed to linger in the air, small and sad. I walked farther into the field, pushing my way through waist-high pokeberry bushes, seeking the spot where Louisa's house had stood.

All I found was the foundation, its sides crumbling away. It was almost completely hidden by bushes and clumps of honeysuckle, but it proved a house had stood here once; I hadn't imagined it. Peering into the damp darkness, I called Snowball, but he, too, seemed to have vanished.

Finally, with gnats humming around my head, I gave up my search. I'd have to wait for Snowball, I decided. As Louisa had told me, he knew the way to her world and back again to mine.

Slowly, kicking my way through the weeds, I started toward the street, but before I reached the sidewalk, I saw Miss Cooper and Max walking toward me.

"You," she called to me, "come here this minute."

Although I felt like running in the opposite direction, I knew Miss Cooper would simply complain to Mom again or, worse yet, she'd call up the real estate agent and demand our eviction. Thinking it would be better for me to face her myself, I joined her on the sidewalk.

"I saw you poking around that old foundation. Don't you know it's dangerous to play in places like that?" Miss Cooper bent toward me, her face level with mine. This close, she reminded me of a snapping turtle I'd seen once. Like his, her eyes were small and red rimmed, kind of yellowy and deeply hooded, and her chin vanished in folds of wrinkled skin.

"I can take care of myself," I told her, trying hard not to sound sassy.

"There're snakes in that hole," Miss Cooper informed me. "Copperheads."

"I didn't see any."

"You take my word for it, missy, and stay away from there." She shook her head grimly, taking in my whole appearance. Her eyes lingered on my skinned knees and then moved down to focus on my bare feet.

"Girls today have no manners," she said. "No upbringing. They don't know the meaning of respect. They just run wild. If you were my daughter, I'd never let you out in public looking like you do."

Leaving me too angry to speak, Miss Cooper gave Max's leash a sharp tug and the two of them went off down the street.

Not knowing what else to do, I dragged myself home through the summer heat. As I climbed the steps, I thought I saw Kristi in her treehouse, but when I called to her, she didn't answer. I was sure she was crouching behind the leaves, watching me, still mad about Anna Maria. I wondered what she'd say if I told her where I'd been and what I'd seen.

***

"Where's Kristi today?" Mom asked later while we were having lunch.

"I don't know." To avoid saying more, I took a big bite of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but it stuck to my throat and I had to wash it down with lemonade. I wanted to tell Mom about Anna Maria and my fight with Kristi; even more, I wanted to tell her about Snowball and Louisa and the amazing thing I'd done, but I didn't know how to begin or what to say. It was all so strange I could hardly believe it myself.

"You didn't quarrel, did you?" Mom finished her yogurt and buttered a piece of raisin bread while she waited for me to answer.

"She's only seven years old," I said after I'd choked down the last of my sandwich.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"I'm almost eleven," I reminded Mom. "I don't like playing with babies."

Pushing back my chair, I took my plate and glass to the sink. "Do you want me to wash the dishes so you can get back to your typing?" I asked Mom.

"Are you changing the subject, Ash?" Mom stood up, too, but as she passed the window she glanced down into the yard.

"There's Krisd now," she said, "talking to Miss Cooper."

I ran to the window Sure enough, Kristi and Miss Cooper were standing in the driveway under Kristi's treehouse. While I watched, Krisd pointed to the garden and she and Miss Cooper set off across the lawn. As they disappeared into the shrubbery, I felt my knees go weak.

Mom turned to me. "What on earth are they doing?"

I bit my lip hard as they came back into sight. Kristi was still talking, trotting along beside Miss Cooper, but the old woman was ignoring her. In Miss Cooper's hand was Anna Maria's empty box, and she was looking up at me, her face clenched like a wrinkled fist.