Starfish_ A Novel - James Crowley [25]
“Oh, I see. Look, look here. There’s a hole.”
Lionel crawled to his feet, and limped over to Beatrice at the chimney. There in the side of the crumbling pile of stone was a large crack that he hadn’t seen when he had first found the lodge.
“It must have happened when the chimney fell forward, huh?” Lionel said.
“Yeah, I guess so, and now we ruined his hiding place,” Beatrice said. “He’ll be all right, now that winter’s about over.”
Lionel looked out the grimy window at the freshly fallen snow that surrounded their new home.
“How’s the leg?” Beatrice asked.
“I think it will be all right,” Lionel answered. “You okay? You sure got sleepy.”
“I’m better now, I just get tired,” Beatrice said, and they both collapsed in a pile on the buffalo robe in front of the fire.
“I’m going to think about that wolverine,” Lionel said. “Like Grandpa told us.”
“Grandpa?” Beatrice asked.
“Yeah. I’m tryin’ to keep my eyes open and listen,” Lionel said again, more to himself this time.
Chapter Fifteen
SLEEP • SILK GOWNS AND TOP HATS • THE MEADOW’S GREEN • THE GREAT WOOD • SURPRISE
BEATRICE AND Lionel slept on and off for the next few days, taking turns getting water from the stream, stoking the fire, and preparing small meals from the provisions that their grandfather sent with them. once rested, Beatrice thought that they should assess the cabin for additional supplies, and upon further investigation Lionel discovered an old trunk and a phonograph under the rubble at the far end of the lodge.
The children had never seen a phonograph or the hard wax cylinders that were labeled “Edison Gold Moulded Records” that accompanied the machine. It took the children the better part of a morning to figure out how to work the apparatus, but when they did, they were grateful that Edison, whoever he was, had left the cylinders for their enjoyment.
The trunk had long since been scavenged for anything of real use but still held an eclectic assortment of moldy silk gowns and a coat with long tails. Beatrice took to wearing a dress of ivory silk and pearl buttons, Lionel a long coat and a hat whose crown looked liked the cylinders that spun the music. The late-winter days were perfect for dressing up and then dancing to the scratchy sounds of Edison’s collection. Beatrice was happy, as happy as Lionel remembered ever seeing her. And Beatrice was right about the snow; although it was still freezing at night, the days were sunny and the snow was melting.
At the start of the third week in the lodge, Beatrice tore her ivory gown while cutting wood. She referred to the frock as “stupid,” and returned to the faded blues of her dated school uniform.
“I’m wondering how long our supplies will last,” Beatrice mused as she folded the torn garment.
Lionel turned from the hearth, where he held the last of the elk that their grandfather had given them over the fire. Beatrice looked concerned.
“How long do we stay?” he asked.
And then it dawned on him. How long were they planning on staying? when was Grandpa coming? Lionel had never thought about it. Jenkins and Lumpkin had been trying to drown Beatrice, and then they ran. They had never made a plan. It just worked. or had so far. Now, Beatrice was worried about the supplies.
Beatrice decided that they should go hunting, but just in the immediate area around the lodge. Although a lot of the snow had melted and there were patches of green grass and saturated moss across the meadow, they thought that they should stay close to the lodge until they heard from their grandfather.
The next day Beatrice loaded the rifle, and they went out across the meadow to the edge of the woods. Trees spiraled above them, and Lionel felt a stillness to the place that reminded him of the chapel back at school. For some reason, once they were in these great woods, they spoke only in whispers.
Lionel walked behind Beatrice, doing his best to stay within her exact footsteps. The ground was thick