The Doll in the Garden

Chapter 19

Flowers for Louisa

I DON'T KNOW how long I cried, but when I finally stopped, I saw Kristi sitting on the grass a few feet away knotting a chain of clover blossoms together. While I watched, she laid the flowers at the angel's feet and sat back, her head tilted, to study their effect.

Kristi glanced up, saw me looking at her, and tried to smile. Her face was still streaked with tears. "I thought she might like some flowers," she said. "Maybe we can get some nicer ones and bring them to her tomorrow."

All around us birds and insects chirped and scolded. The summer breeze rustled the leaves of the holly tree, and from outside the graveyard came the sounds of cars and the voices of children playing in the park across the street.

"Roses," I said, thinking of the fragrance of Louisa's twilight world. "She'd like roses."

At the sound of footsteps, Kristi and I looked up, startled.

"You're right. Louisa was always partial to roses," Miss Cooper said. Giving me a bouquet of pink and yellow roses, she added, "Put these on the child's grave for me."

Taking the flowers, I laid them carefully at the angel's feet next to Kristi's clover chain. Their colors brightened the ivy.

"I'd have come sooner," Miss Cooper said, "but I didn't realize how tired I was. I sat down to rest and before I knew it, I was sound asleep."

She sighed, and gazed at the little angel. "I had a dream," Miss Cooper said. "About Louisa. I was in her yard the way it used to look and she was there, too, only she wasn't sick. She was so happy, all smiles, and I could hardly speak I was so surprised. She came to me and kissed me."

Miss Cooper touched her cheek lightly and smiled. "She forgave me."

"I had a dream like that once about my father," I said.

"I think it's their way," Miss Cooper said. "Their way of telling you not to fret about them, to let them go."

We all were silent then. A bluejay scolded from somewhere in the treetops and a catbird called from the holly tree. Across the street, the children's voices rose and fell.

"Were you angry when Louisa died?" I asked.

Miss Cooper frowned and her mouth worked on the words before she spoke. "It shames me to say it," she admitted, "but I was mad at her for dying before I had a chance to give the doll back. And for leaving me without a friend."

She was silent for a moment. "Louisa died early in the morning," she went on, her voice shaking a little. "Mama told me at breakfast, and Papa said it was lucky for me that the Lord always took the good children first and left the ones like me for the devil to claim when he saw fit."

"What an awful thing to say." I stared at Miss Cooper, unable to imagine anyone having a father so cruel.

The old woman shrugged. "I was a bad girl, you know that yourself, but I've kept the devil waiting a long time, haven't I?"

She stared at the angel for a few seconds, her face softened by the shadows the holly tree cast over it. "But Louisa, she was a good little creature, and maybe Papa was right. She didn't sutler very long before the Lord took her."

Neither Kristi nor I spoke, so Miss Cooper went on, her old eyes fixed on the angel's face. "This is the first time I've been here since the burial. I couldn't come before, couldn't bear thinking about Louisa and that doll, knowing I'd made her unhappy. But now, well, she's got no cause to hate me."

The bluejay cried out over our heads and flew away, a flash of color in the shade. Miss Cooper leaned on her cane, as still as the angel she regarded. Then she looked down at Kristi and me. "I felt bad all these years," she said. "I'd see the cat, I'd hear Louisa crying even July, but I never thought I could give the doll back and make things right."

Slowly Miss Cooper reached out and touched our heads, first mine, then Kristi's. "I've got you girls to thank for showing me the way," she whispered.

Miss Cooper straightened up then and brushed a strand of white hair out of her eyes. For a second I remembered how she'd looked at Louisa's bedside, a little girl no older than I was.

"Well, it's powerful hot, isn't it?" Miss Cooper's voice rose to its normal level. "Why don't we walk on back home and have a nice cold glass of lemonade? I made it fresh before I left the house."

Silently Kristi and I looked at each other. Then we followed Miss Cooper down the gravel path and out into the sunny street.

"What kind of cookies do you like?" I heard Miss Cooper ask Kristi, but I didn't listen to her answer. I was too busy thinking about what Miss Cooper had said about her dream. Had Daddy been giving me a message, too?