I woke up with a start. There was a split second of panic, where I couldn’t tell up from down and the only thing I could see was a sliver of light.

The wardrobe door was flung open, blinding me with light. A young boy blinked squinted eyes at me, startled. A shock of long red hair was tied back in a pony tail. He wore what looked like a pair of pyjamas. The red stripe running across it crashed awfully with his red hair and freckled face. “Hide me!” He wheezed in what he obviously thought was a whisper. “Don’t let Jonathan know where I am!” With this he dove into the wardrobe beside me. The door had barely closed on his ponytail when there was a sound like a door being broken down.

“Where’d he go?”

The boy next to me breathed loudly through his nostrils sending huffs of air into my face. The wardrobe doors had not closed all the way, letting a sliver of light shine through.

Outside, another boy crossed his arms impatiently. “Sam!” His dark hair was long like the other’s and he wore the same clothes like pyjamas. His glasses sat on his nose, shielding almond shaped eyes.  A girl ran him over.

“Did you find Sam?” Picking her self up she stamped her foot, blonde curls bouncing angrily. She was the only one of the three not wearing clothes that resembled nightwear. “When I find him, I’m gonna–”

“Shh! Vivian, listen.”

In obvious attempt to be silent, Sam slapped a hand across his mouth. He inhaled little gasps of air through his nostrils, eyes wide. It was not very quiet.

“Found you!” The two screamed and pounced upon us, throwing open the doors and pulling helpless Sam out of hiding. He inhaled noisily, red face clashing terribly with his hair and PJs. Jonathan and Vivian looked surprised to find me there as well.

“He’s never been good at keeping quiet.” Vivian explained. “Even when he holds his breath.”

“Oh.” Was all I could say as struggling Sam was dragged out the door. He looked like the type of boy grown ups would describe as ‘rough,’ and who’s shoelaces were always untied. I looked down. Sure enough, Sam’s shoelaces trailed along behind him.

“What’s your name?” Vivian asked, dropping one of Sam’s arms once we had made it to the hall.

Sam sat up, gasping. “Are you going to be in the playroom tonight?”

Fixing his ponytail, Jonathan asked: “How old are you?”

“I’m Bridie and I am the host of the party so I will not be in the play room, no. I’m sixteen.”

Jonathan expertly straightened his glasses and said rather proudly: “Sam’s eight, but Vivian and I are fifteen and sixteen–old enough to go to the party. But Sam needs some one too look after him, so he’s staying in the playroom.”

“I don’t need looking after!” Sam stuck out his tongue. It was a strange golden color.

“You monster!” Vivian screeched. “You’re the one who ate my butter pie!”

The three raced down the hall, Sam’s laces trailing behind him like banners.

A woman with a worried look ran towards me. “Have you see three children? Two boys and a girl?”

“They seem to have disappeared.” Dahlia Swann came up behind her. “Mrs. Lee is very worried they may get in to trouble.”

Mrs. Lee nodded, looking ever fretful.

There was a dreadful thump some ways down the hall.

“That’s him. Tripping on his laces again.” Mrs. Lee took off. I couldn’t help but notice her dress very nearly resembled pyjamas, though by all means not unfashionable.

“Oh! Pumpkin,” Dahlia paused. “Did you meet my son?”

“Pardon, who?” Perhaps now was my chance to finally find out Darcy’s Brother’s name. Subtly, of course.

“My son.” Dahlia repeated as though I was simply hard of hearing. “Did you meet him.”

I smiled. “Yes, I did. It was nice to see him again.”

She looked pleased. “I’m glad you don’t mind. So many people, I though ‘what’s one more?’ And it’s been so long since either have us have seen him too. He’s been away at school for a very long time. Wants to go into something good like law, medical or teaching, like that. Isn’t it nice? Well then, ta, ta!” In expertise heels, she sped off, leaving me with much information about Her Son, though nothing as useful as his name.

~*~

I found Darcy and Her Brother waiting for me in the kitchen. I entered hesitantly, looking for a inedible vegetable filled cardboard box. Darcy met my gaze and shook her head. Sitting down next to her I whispered: “The storm has passed?”

“I think so. You’re lucky Bridie. It could have been much worse.”

But she spoke too soon. Mr. Post burst through the stain glass door and accosted us with a cardboard box containing ten kilos of tomaotes and a squash like the deformed head of a baby. Mr Post left with a bang and Mrs. Post gave a ‘tsk tsk’ and set to work.

I could have cried. “Darcy help me…”

She could only shrug and pat me comfortingly on the head.

Her Brother smiled encouragingly. “It’ll be alright.” He said. “Come on, let’s have cereal for lunch or something.”

With Mrs. Post waist deep in tomatoes, I was able to pull out ten kinds of cereal, eight of which were stale and had expired six months ago. I was just pouring milk into my bowl when there came a noise like thunder. The pots and pans on the oven shook and the kitchen doors burst open, relatives flooding into the room. The giant kitchen suddenly felt ten times smaller. Each relative was demanding edible food. It was apparent that Mrs. Post had served them yesterday’s Potato Casserole. One held up a chuck like a burnt coal.

“This thing is rock hard!”

“How old are these?”

“What are they?”

Mrs. Post looked like she could bust a vesel.

A tall, regal man rounded on me. “You. You’re Ms. Baxter, aren’t you?”

“Yes, don’t you have something edible for us to eat?” Said a plump, exotic woman next to him.

“Mama, I’m starving.” Two children wailed to her. They were both round and plain.

Hearing this, all the relatives suddenly turned to me with a passion. “What are we supposed to eat in this house?” The shouting turned to a roar and a couple raised fists in the air and brought up a chant.

Oh heavens, what am I supposed to do?

Darcy was all ready to pull me out of there, but I had decided I needed to fix this. Clambering onto the counter I gave my best shout.

No one heard me.

Mr. Post had come in through the door. He gave a bellow that was heard clearly above the mob. “Shut up, you lot, and let the girl speak!”

There was immediate silence.

“Thank you.” I nodded toward the gardener. “Look. I’m sorry you’re not happy with your meal arrangements. It’s my fault. And I’d like to apologize.” I turned to the Posts. “I’m sorry I’ve angered you both. It’s simply been a very long time since I’ve been in your company, and I’d ask that you’d give me room to make mistakes.” The two nodded and looked almost cheerful. To the rest of the throng I yelled: “Who wants pizza?”

Everyone gave up a shout. Darcy clapped. Her Brother helped me down from the counter, though not without knocking over a bowl of cereal. I took a deep breath to try and stop my heart from pounding. “I’m going to have to apologize to you as well.” I shouted at Darcy’s Brother above the noise. “I can’t for the life of me remember your name.”

He laughed heartily and leaned closer to hear. “Well, why didn’t you say so? The name’s Hale. Hale Swann.” He took my hand in his and shook it.

I grinned and blushed, adrenalin gone. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” And with that he led me grandly towards the telephone to call the pizza place.

~*~

April 10 2003

My Dear Bridie,

For your birthday this year I bought you a bicycle. You were more that ecstatic to try, but insisted on doing it yourself. That is, until you got on the bike. As soon as your feet left the ground you called for me to help you. I did, and after that you wouldn’t let me let go. I’m going to have to let go eventually, otherwise you’ll never learn how to do it on your own. Maybe we’ll try again tomorrow.