The Brushstroke Legacy (8 page)

Erika started to say something but changed her mind. With exaggerated slowness, she wound her earphones around the iPod and inserted all her toys into the backpack at her feet. She drank from her water bottle, capped that, and set it precisely in the drink holder.

Ragni watched her.
Two can play this game, sweetie, and I have a lot more experience at this than you do.
When Erika finally stood and stretched, Ragni smiled.

“I thought we’d set up camp under those big trees by the road. They’ll give us shade and maybe some protection if it starts to rain.” She handed Erika the tent bag. “You take this, and I’ll bring the toolbox.” Without waiting, she took the red metal toolbox her father had given her for Christmas one year and led the way.

“First we need to knock down the grass and clean out the branches and anything that will poke us in the back at night. I think we’ll start a woodpile by the house for now. I’m hoping to get that
cookstove working tomorrow so we can boil water for cleaning.” Her statement caught her by surprise.
When did I make that decision?
“Your mother and I used to fight over who got to pound the tent pegs in. Now that I think of it, she and I managed to fight over most anything. Especially when she gave me orders and thought I should just do as she said.”

Erika kicked pieces of wood out of the way, obviously wishing she were kicking something besides sticks. “Things haven’t changed; she’s just gotten a new slave.”

Ragni stopped with one branch in her hand and stared at her niece.
Some kind of bitterness going on there. I have no clue how to deal with this.
She pulled a crumbling branch out of the grass, broke it into shorter pieces, and started an orderly stack by the house.

When they’d cleared enough ground for the tent, Ragni unpacked the bag and laid out the aluminum frame. “Good thing we’ll be able to keep things in the car. This will be a tight fit for the two of us and our air mattresses. Just do what I do and we’ll have it up in no time.”

Ragni studied the aluminum rods while Erika studied her fingernails, gum cracking, foot tapping to the beat of some internal music.
Straight pieces, curved pieces, joints
—
it all looks like a bunch of Pick-Up Sticks, only without the colors.
She left those lying on the ground and picked up the tent roll. She gave it a shake, like her father always did. The roll opened halfway and tangled, not the way of her father. She glanced up to see Erika watching.

“Grab that end, will you please, and we’ll lay this out flat.”

Erika did as asked, with one eyebrow cocked.

“There should be some instructions around here somewhere,” Ragni said, flipping back one of the folds. Her father always knew
how to do things; he never needed instructions.
Do we pound the corner pegs into the ground first or put together the inside frame?
One glance at Erika showed total boredom.
Why didn’t we just stay at the motel? Life would be so much easier.
Ragni knelt, picked up the aluminum rods, and laid them on the nylon canvas. She never had been good at Pick-Up Sticks.

“I think I have the instructions in the car. I’ll be right back.” She blessed the mess on the ground with one more glare and headed for the car.
Why did nothing go right?
She hauled some more boxes out of the trunk, searching for the manila envelope with instructions that she thought she remembered to put in. After she’d been through every box and bag, she felt like throwing something, pounding something—or screaming, at least. She swigged half a bottle of water and headed back to conquer the tent. Surely two intelligent women could outsmart one tent.

The blue and green nylon tent arched perfectly as Erika pounded the final peg in the ground and stood to meet her.

“You did it!”

“No big deal.”

Ragni stared at the girl, who stuck the hammer back in the toolbox and closed the lid.

“Now can we fix something to eat?” Erika asked. “I’m starved.”

“As soon as we finish here.” With a sniff and a halfhearted smile, Ragni took out the foot pump and plugged the end of it into her air mattress. “We used to have to blow up our own air mattresses. This sure is lots easier.”
What kind of aunt are you? Surely your mother taught you some kind of manners.
“Thanks, you did great on the tent.” Her foot did the pumping, while her mind roamed.

She could have said, “You’re welcome.” How long will the kid go before talking?
She thought back in time.
Susan used to do the same thing
—
she could go as long as two days without saying a word. It used to drive Mom wild.

Ragni fastened off the valve and handed Erika the pump. “Your turn.” She watched as Erika stared from the pump to her air mattress, narrowed her eyes and inserted the tip in the valve. When she pressed down on the pump, the tip popped out and air whooshed.

“You need to twist it.”

Erika attacked it again, and this time the air flowed into the mattress. Her mouth and eyebrows both made straight lines as she stared down as if the air inflating the mattress was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.

Ragni fitted her mattress into one side of the tent, untied her sleeping bag, and rolled it out on the mattress. Then she went to the car, got her pillow, duffel bag, and the flashlight, and returned to the camp. She stowed her things neatly, as she’d been taught.

“How about if we have leftover sandwiches for supper and not bother starting the stove tonight?”

Erika shrugged.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Don’t care.”

Ah, she broke the sound barrier.
Perhaps she remembered their discussion earlier about responding to a question.

“Fine with me. If you’d rather have peanut butter and jelly than meat and cheese, we have that too.”

They used the top of the cooler as a table, made their sandwiches, dug into the chips, and sat with the car doors open to eat. Not exactly
what Ragni had planned, but filling. She was just putting things away when she smacked her first mosquito. After digging out the insect repellent, she sprayed her arms and rubbed some on her face.

“Here, you’d better use this.”

Erika sprayed herself and handed the can back, wrinkling her nose. “Mom found some bracelets that are supposed to work.”

“Did you bring any?”

“No.”

“We’ll add those to the list.” The list that was already on a second page. “Did you bring a flashlight?”

“No.”

“If you have to use the privy during the night…”

Erika gave her a look that made Ragni fight to keep from laughing. “Your mother and I…”

Erika turned away, muttering just loud enough for Ragni to hear, “As if I cared.”

Ragni went ahead and put everything away, slammed the trunk, and headed for the privy and then the tent. Dusk had settled like a gauze curtain, blurring the final sunset streaks.

“Since I don’t feel like starting the lantern, I’m going to bed.”
That is, I’m not up for the fight necessary to light the lantern.

“Now?”

“I’d suggest you do the same, since we are going to be up with the birds in the morning.”

“But I’m not tired.”

“Well, I am.”
Because I didn’t have a nap this afternoon, unlike someone else around here.

Erika grabbed her backpack and duffel and stomped over to the tent. “How am I supposed to brush my teeth?”

“Use water from the gallon jug.”

“It’s in the trunk.”

“I know.” She handed Erika the keys. “Keep in mind that if we lose the keys, we will be in a world of hurt.”

Erika mumbled something.

She had to admit, the girl was an expert at muttering under her breath just loud enough… “What did you say?”

“Nothing!”

Ragni fell asleep hearing the music faintly from Erika’s earphones.

“Ragni! Ragni!”

She woke to Erika’s hissed whisper and her shoulder being rocked. “What? What’s wrong?”

“That sound. Did you hear it?”

“No.”
I was sleeping like the proverbial log. How could I hear anything?

“There it is again.”

Ragni listened, holding her breath to hear better. Some small creature was rustling and squeaking right outside the tent. “Sounds like a mouse, or maybe a rabbit. No big deal.”

Erika bailed out of her sleeping bag. “Where are the keys?”

“Why?”

“I’m sleeping in the car.” Erika pulled her boots on.

“Suit yourself. This is far more comfortable.”

“Ha!”

“Don’t run the battery down.” But Erika had already unzipped the tent and could be heard stomping toward the car. Ragni zipped the tent again and snuggled down in her sleeping bag.
Looks like I’ll have plenty of time alone after all. If only I wasn’t too exhausted to take advantage of it.

Birds sang her awake in the morning.

Ragni lay in her sleeping bag, knowing she needed to head out to the privy but enjoying the concert. It was a new day, perhaps a time to make up for past mistakes. When she returned to the motel, she would call and talk to her father. Perhaps he’d hear her love and regret. He might enjoy the house woes too. Trying was far better than ignoring—or running—the other way.
Is that my way of dealing with things that make me uncomfortable? Hmm…one of those life questions the spa coach said to watch for.

Since she hadn’t brought her robe to the tent, she changed from pajama pants into jeans and pulled a sweatshirt over her pajama top. She unzipped the tent and slid her feet into her shoes. If Erika had slept this well, she might be in a better mood today.
Right.

Dew hung heavy on the grasses, and a spider’s night work sparkled like diamonds across the semblance of a path to the privy. No good fairies had come in the night to straighten the building.
How can I brace this?
she pondered while sitting inside. Tipping over would not be pleasant. She’d better not mention that possibility to Erika. What with her reaction to a little rustling outside the tent, there would be a
real riot.
I wonder if this is something Paul would help with
—
if he was serious in his offer.
Back at the tent, she noticed the open flap and zipped it shut to keep out any curious critters, then headed around the car to take the bucket to the river for water. They’d use the gallon of bottled water for brushing teeth and cooking, but it would be river water for washing.
That ought to make my helper happy. Ha.

Knees wet from walking the dew-decorated path to the river, Ragni stood on the bank and stared at the buttes reflecting fire on the west side of the valley. The river whispered age-old secrets as it meandered around one bend and on to the next. She rubbed her arms and inhaled pure nectar. With the sun not yet over the hills behind her, the river lay in shadows, the golden sparkles from yesterday still sleeping.

A movement off to the left caught her eye, and when she looked toward it, a smile split her face. A deer stood drinking upriver. If that weren’t enough, two fawns tiptoed out of the grass and stood beside their mother. The tableau sent her mind spinning back. Once, on the shores of Lake Michigan, her family had frozen just like now— enthralled with the same sight. “Wish I had a camera,” her father had muttered.

“We’ll just have to remember.” Her mother squeezed her girls’ shoulders.

Remember
—
something Dad can no longer do.
“Daddy, how can I help you?” Ragni murmured.
Will a letter describing this moment help?
She thought a minute.
It will help Mom.

Ragni hardly breathed, in case they would hear her. The doe’s ears flicked back and forth, alert for any sound out of the ordinary, and she raised her dripping muzzle to sniff the breeze for telltale odors.
She drank again, then turned and trotted back into the tall grass, where the fawns disappeared right after her.

Ragni hugged herself.
What a gift
—
and this was just our first morning at the cabin. Shame Erika slept through it.
She dipped her bucket in the river and let it fill, then carried it back to camp, composing the letter in her mind while her hands kept busy. Once she had the gas camp stove up and running, she could heat water for washing and get the coffee perking. So different from at home in Chicago where she programmed her coffee maker the night before and woke to the smell of fresh brew. She looked around for a place to set up the stove. She’d thought to bring a folding table, but there hadn’t been enough room in the car. Even a wooden folding table the size of a TV tray would have worked.
Hindsight is always twenty-twenty
—
one of Dad’s favorite sayings. I should have gone ahead and bought a luggage rack for the top of the car. So many things I need that now I’ll have to buy. If I’m going to fix this place up, that is.

After ignoring the recumbent body in the front seat of her car, she took the long-handled scrub brush, swept off the front step of the house with it, and set the two-burner stove on the stoop. She pumped the propane tank, and—wonder of wonders—it fired up on the first match.
Two gifts in one day, and its not even midmorning!
Back to the food box in the trunk for coffee. She measured grounds into the basket, poured water from the jug into the pot, and set it on the stove. Coffee before washing. The kettle she’d brought would heat enough water for them to take sponge baths, then she’d start the cleaning water.

No matter how much noise Ragni made, Erika slept on. Ragni even caught herself whistling, wishing she could mimic the birds that
serenaded her from the fields across the road and the trees above. In the distance she heard an engine starting up and the bawling of cattle. Paul Heidelborg had still been the only traffic on the road, unless someone had driven past during the night.

She poured herself a bowl of cereal, added milk, and sat on the rear bumper to eat. The aroma of coffee mingled with the scent of the trees above and the growing grass.

With her cereal done, she dug out the caramel roll box and opened it to find one remaining.
At least Erika didn’t eat them all
—
seeing as how she didn’t want any in the first place.
The roll wouldn’t be bad cold, but coffee and a warm caramel roll sounded ideal. She dug out the aluminum foil and the frying pan, replaced the heating water with it, and covered it with foil.
Voilà, a makeshift oven.
She’d seen her mother bake a cake in a frying pan.
Competent Mom, always taking care of everyone. She’d probably have the cabin half-cleaned by now.

Shame Susan has given up camping and never taken Erika. But then Poppa filled in. If Dad were here, we’d be having fresh fish for breakfast.
The thought brought a lump back to her throat.
You will not have another crying fit like yesterday
, she ordered herself. Although when she thought about it, perhaps the crying jag had been one of the reasons she’d slept so well. The tears may have been a long time coming— they had certainly taken a long time to stop.

She poured herself a cup of coffee, then studied the cabin.
Where to start? And how much can we get done before the trip back to town for supplies?
After a few minutes, she poured a second cup of coffee and wandered back to the car.

“All right, sleeping beauty, time to rise and shine.” She opened the car door and stared at her niece, earphones still in her ears.
No wonder
she didn’t hear all the noise.
Ragni pulled an earphone away. “We have hot coffee and hot water for washing. You already ate your caramel roll, but mine is now warming in the frying pan. The cereal was great.”

Erika mumbled a reply and burrowed further into her pillow. “What time is it?”

“I have no idea. I put my watch away because I am on vacation. The sun’s been up for quite some time.”

“Did you say coffee?”

“Yes.”

“Not espresso?”

“Where would I plug in an espresso machine if I had one? Get real.”

Erika opened one eye. “Kids are supposed to sleep in during vacation.”

“No problem, you can skip breakfast. I’m going to eat my caramel roll with this cup of coffee and throw out the rest. Both burners will be heating water for scrubbing, so we can get right to work. We need another bucketful of water. I got the first one.”

Erika groaned. “My neck hurts.”

“I’ll bet it does. I slept great.” Ragni returned to the stove and examined her caramel roll. While the bottom was dark, the rest was fine. Within minutes she was licking her fingers and tossing the dregs of her coffee into the weeds. She dipped a washcloth in the hot water and held it to her face.
Oh, the warmth.
She could feel her skin whispering, “Ahhh,” then responding in delight as the cool breeze tickled her.
Alive
—
that’s it. Between the spa week and now this, I can feel myself coming alive again.
She poured water from the jug into her cup and
brushed her teeth. With her hair brushed and tied back, she was as clean as she was going to get.

Humming, she tweaked Erika’s hair as she organized things in the car and trunk again, making sure all the cleaning supplies, including her list, were at hand. “Come on.”

“I need a shower.”

“The river is pretty cold.”

“How am I going to wash my hair?” That brought her upright.

Ragni shrugged. “Not, I guess.”

“But I have to wash my hair!”

“Put on a hat. Cleaning that kitchen will only make your hair dirtier anyway.”

“But how are
we
going to get clean?”

“You know, people lived their whole lives without showers. Women washed their hair once a week, and that’s how often they took baths. I really thought the river would be warmer and planned to bathe in it.”

“That muddy river?”

“Didn’t know that either, but people have been washing and swimming in it for years.”

“You better not have thrown out all the coffee.” Erika shoved her feet in her boots and trudged off to the privy, muttering all the way. Since she had slept in her clothes, she didn’t have to dress.

Ragni watched her.
The kid can really do mad well
. She shook her head. Taking a wash-basin bath didn’t sound appealing. She raised her face to the sunbeam peaking through the tree branches and tried to remember what she’d learned at some camping conference about creating
an outdoor shower. Or was it Girl Scout camp? There they’d at least had showers. She remembered them well, since she’d had to scrub them more than once. Everyone took turns doing KP and latrine duty.

The room at the motel was looking more appealing all the time. They could stay there just one night and head out here again early in the morning. If they didn’t, she’d probably have a revolt on her hands.

Erika of the narrowed eyes and stomping feet returned to the campsite. She dug a mug out of the box, filled it mostly with coffee, added sugar, and returned to the cooler for milk. Without a word, she fixed her cereal and sat back in the car, immediately putting her earphones back on.

Ragni filled her second pot with river water and turned the heat on high. She added the hot water from the first pot to the cold water in the bucket, poured in bleach and soap, and headed inside. Sweeping was the first order of business, starting with the ceiling. She tied a bandanna over her head and attacked with the broom, sweeping dirt and cobwebs from the ceiling and walls and bird feathers and mouse droppings off the counters. After opening the cupboard doors, she used the dry brush, adding more to the litter on the floor.

“Pee-yew.” Erika stepped back out of the doorway.

“I know. How about bringing up another bucket of water?”

“With what?”

“Oh, right. Sorry. We’ll go to town as soon as we scrub at least one wall.” She swept the mess on the floor into a pile and onto the dustpan. “Get the box of trash bags out of the trunk, will you please? They’re on the left side under the box of dishes.”

“Add a garbage can to that list.”

“Can’t fit it into the trunk. Maybe we can get some boxes at the grocery store.”

Erika brought the bags in and shook one out. “That glass is going to cut this to pieces.”

“You’re right.”

“You could pitch the glass into that hole under the house. Might get rid of our visitor that way.”

“Erika!”

“Just a thought.” She set about doubling the bags, then held the mouth open for the trash, turning her face away when the dust rose. “Gross.”

“Let’s wash inside the cupboards first—we can take the drawers outside to scrub. Then we can do the ceiling…”

“Do we have a stepstool?” Erika glanced at her aunt to catch her shrug. “I know, put it on the list.”

“Good thing I brought rubber gloves. Otherwise that bleach is going to burn our hands. There’s another pair in the box with the plastic bags.”

Ragni stared at the cupboards, wondering how she was going to get up high enough to wash the top shelves.
For safety’s sake, we should wait until we get a stepstool. Or should we get a stepladder? That would make more sense.
She shifted her concentration to the stove.
Steel wool soap pads
—
another thing needed for the list
. She set the stove lids to the side and looked into the firebox. Rust in the oven, but the door closed tightly. A lever on the outside of the firebox operated a grate that led to a collector for ashes. She pulled out the container. At least it wasn’t
rusted together. Down on her knees, she peered under the stove. Four once-chromed feet held it several inches off the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking out the stove. Looks to be in fair shape.” Ragni stood and opened the oven door again. The thought of cooking on the same stove her great-grandmother had used looped a band of warmth around her heart.
Did Mom ever fry bacon on this stove or bake cookies in this oven? When was Mom even here last?
Her list of questions was growing like her supply list.