The Skye in June Read online

  Cathy breathed easier as she watched her daughter leave the table. She knew June wasn’t lying. She just didn’t want her daughter to tell the family June had also gone missing earlier that day. If she did, then Jimmy would know she wasn’t always watching her child, which was true at times. On some days, after the older girls left for school, Cathy would sit for hours, lost in memories, staring out the bay windows at Twin Peaks in the direction of the ocean.

  Earlier that day June had wandered off, crossing busy Market and Castro Streets to reach the garden at the Holy Savior Church. And that’s where Cathy had found her.

  As she stood staring out the windows, in the back of her mind she had heard June’s voice, but not her words. When she finally turned to look, she realized the flat was quiet. June wasn’t there. She peered down the backstairs to the yard, but she didn’t see her. She checked the time and realized her daughter might have been gone for up to two hours.

  Quickly, Cathy walked down Castro Street and went from store to store to ask if anyone had seen her chatty little daughter. “Not today,” they said. Feeling more frantic as the minutes ticked on, she felt tears burn behind her eyes. She hoped June would be waiting for her sisters outside the school.

  As she approached the school, Cathy looked to the church across the street. And there, behind the garden’s fence, was a flash of red hair. She opened the gate and saw June kneeling on the prie-dieu talking to the statue of Our Lady. Her face lit up when she saw her mother. She cheerfully waved a tiny hand at Cathy, while the other was filled with daisies.

  “Mammy! Angel and me got daisies for you. An’ she wants you to be her mammy, too!”

  Angry with her daughter for disappearing, Cathy jerked her up by the arm so hard that all the flowers fell to the ground. “Bad girl!” she yelled, smacking her daughter’s bottom.

  Immediately repenting her outburst, she dropped to her knees and pulled June into a tight hug. “You wee bugger!” she cried. “I’ve been sick with worry! Don’t you ever do that again or I’ll have Daddy skelp you. Hear me?” She was sure the threat of receiving a spanking from Jimmy would make her daughter realize the seriousness of leaving the house alone.

  June pushed her mother away and said crossly, “I told you that me and my angel were going to find you flowers,” and then marched away in a huff.

  Cathy began to give a retort, then remembered that she had heard June’s voice in the background as she mulled over her heartaches.

  In protest, June kept at a distance all the way home and didn’t say one word. Cathy looked at her daughter’s red hair and agreed with the old saying––redheads have hot tempers.

  “How’s about a cup of tea?” Jimmy’s voice snapped Cathy back into the present.

  She picked up his cup and went to the stove for the teapot. The girls had finished their dinners and left their parents alone in the kitchen. After serving him tea, she went back to her chores. The only sound in the kitchen was the clanking of dishes and silverware as Cathy washed them.

  She turned from the sink and caught Jimmy looking at her. “What?” she asked, ready to hear she’d forgotten something he needed.

  “Nothing. Just looking at you.”

  She wiped a strand of hair from her eyes and picked up the pots from the stove.

  “I wish I had a smoke,” he said. He had kept his promise to his wife and given up smoking when they moved to America.

  Not wanting to talk about his nasty habit, she began a conversation about the girls’ school. She told Jimmy that she volunteered to bake several items to help raise money for the school’s sports program.

  “Ye never had to do that at their school back home,” he said.

  “I’m trying to fit in,” she answered. “It makes things easier for the girls. Maggie says they get teased a lot about the way they speak. And of course, then the girls get in fights.”

  “That’s my girls,” Jimmy remarked.

  “We didn’t want them to have to fight anymore. Anyway, it doesn’t look good. The nuns will think they’re troublemakers.”

  Cathy didn’t mention she also wanted to fit in. She was awfully lonely and she missed Granny B’s presence and Patsy’s good-natured friendship.

  “Sandy gave me a book so we could start studying for our citizenship test,” he said.

  “Oh, yeah?”

  Jimmy chuckled, his Glaswegian voice changing to an exaggerated American accent, “Yeah? You don’t say? You sound real American, Mrs. MacDonald.”

  “Och, you!” She laughed lightly as she took off her apron, hung it over a chair and brushed her blonde hair away from her face. She didn’t tell him he also was speaking more American.

  “You’re still a good looking woman,” Jimmy said softly.

  She smiled, embarrassed by the compliment. The dripping of the faucet was the only sound in the kitchen.

  Jimmy coughed, clearing his throat. “Oh, by the way, I met the couple from downstairs today. Seem nice enough. They were off to work. The woman’s mother lives with them.”

  “The wife works? Hmm. Maybe I should get a job.”

  “You?” he snorted. “What’ll you do? You’ve never worked before.”

  “I have too! I worked during the war.”

  “During the war everybody had to help.” Jimmy sounded annoyed with the idea.

  “We’ll see. I better get going. I’m starting a Novena tonight.”

  “For Dad?” He was referring to Patsy’s letter that arrived a week ago. In it she informed them that Granda B had stomach cancer. The letter said, “Don’t bother coming home. I’ll keep you posted. I’ll send a telegram if need be.” She then went on to talk about how Granny B was holding up. Patsy was the only one in the family who wrote regularly.

  Placing the damp kitchen towel over a chair, Cathy said, “Of course I’ll pray for him, too. I always keep my parents in my prayers.”

  Jimmy shared her quiet sadness for a moment. “Well, you know him, Cath. He’d be the first to say, ‘It’s my time.’ It’ll be Granny that’ll need help.”

  She knew he missed his father-in-law much more than he would ever let on.

  “Are you asking Our Lady to help me get that promotion?” Jimmy reminded her.

  She took a long sip of tea before answering. “We need that to happen, don’t we?”

  Cathy looked up to the round kitchen clock high up on the wall. “I’ll go get the girls out of the bath. I’ll take June with me but will you see that the others do their homework and get to bed on time?”

  “Okay,” he answered readily, glad June wouldn’t be home to annoy him with her many questions during the Novena’s once-a-week, nine prayer meetings it would take to complete the ritual.

  As she turned to leave the kitchen, she heard a chair scrape backward. Jimmy stood close behind her. He kissed the nape of her head, asking softly, “Are you happier here?”

  Stepping away from her husband she said, “I am, Jimmy. Right, I better get going.”

  Guilt nagged at her for not returning her husband’s affection. After all, he was as her mother said, a good husband. He always provided well for his family by having a job, sometimes two. Granny B had told Cathy that marrying Jimmy had been her best decision.

  Cathy grabbed a few towels out of a hallway cupboard and entered the noisy bathroom. The girls were making so much noise that they didn’t notice her at first. Annie stood away from the tub wrapped in a towel with her eyebrows drawn down. Maggie and Mary, with water dripping from their naked bodies, stood hugging and looking down into the tub. “Don’t worry baby, he’ll come back,” Mary said in an exaggerated motherly manner. Puzzled, Cathy tipped forward to look over their shoulders and into the tub.

  She jumped back in fright, panicked by what she saw. June was underwater with her eyes wide open, staring upward. Dropping the towels, she pushed the girls aside and fell to her knees. She grabbed her youngest out of the water and into her arms. “June, June,” Cathy sobbed.

  Sputtering, the littl
e girl struggled to loosen her mother’s hold and smiled dreamily up into her shocked face.

  “My God, girl! What do you think you’re doing?” Cathy shouted, shaken with fright. She turned to her eldest child. “Were you just going to stand there and let her drown?”

  Maggie picked up a towel off the floor and covered herself. “We were acting,” she said.

  In irritation, Cathy grabbed the towel off her and wrapped it around June. “Pull the drain plug, Annie,” she said as she stumbled back to sit on the toilet seat cover still holding June.

  Annie did as ordered. With tears, she said defensively, “I told them it was a stupid game. I told them you’d be mad at us.”

  Mary jumped into the explanation. “It’s a game, Mammy. June is the daddy. He drowns. And I’m the mammy crying for him.”

  Cathy sat quietly watching the bathwater slowly swirl down the drain. Condensation dripped down the bathroom walls as the room began to cool. The girls started to shiver.

  “Whose idea was this?” she said finally.

  The three older girls pointed fingers simultaneously. “June’s!”

  June sat silently on her mother’s lap. Her eyes were downcast. Cathy touched her little girl’s chin with the tips of her fingers, lifting up her face so they were looking at each other, faces only inches apart. “Why?” Cathy asked. Mother and daughter stared intensely at each other.

  The last of the draining water broke the silence. Cathy sighed, “Alright girls, go get your pajamas on.”

  They quickly filed out of the bathroom.

  She put both her hands on June’s shoulders to get her full attention. Through clenched teeth, she said, “You stop this…this story telling. I’m no kidding, June Elizabeth MacDonald.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll try to be a good girl for you.” June leaned her wet hair against her mother and hugged her.

  “Stop wiggling!” Cathy began to dry June roughly. “You’re coming to the Novena with me tonight.”

  On the busy corner where Seventeenth Street crosses Castro and Market Streets, Cathy and June stood holding hands while waiting for the light to turn green. The wait seemed to take forever. June wanted to dance around a bit, but her mother held her hand tightly telling her to stop fidgeting. Cathy had warned June that they must hurry so they wouldn’t miss the opening prayers.

  When the light turned green the two rushed down the street. Tony, the man from the delicatessen, called out a greeting and although Cathy didn’t seem to hear him, June attempted a wave. When they were in the deli the other day, June had heard Tony talking to another customer about her. He said, “What a quirky little kid. One day when the arthritis in my hand was killing me, the kid said I should run it under warm water. She told me it would give my hand happy colors.”

  The customer said, “Kids say the darnedest things, eh?”

  They both laughed. June felt good she made people happy.

  Cathy and June swept passed Andy’s donut shop and turned rapidly onto the next street. June had an important question to ask, if only her mother would slow down. She forged ahead anyway, holding up the rosary beads her mother had given her before leaving the house.

  “Mammy, were these yours when you were a wee girl?” The white translucent beads dangled from her small hand.

  “Aye. Granny gave them to me,” Cathy said, not missing a step.

  “If we do the whole Rosary, will Our Lady give us our wish?” the girl said breathlessly.

  “We have to come nine times. Then we’ll see if She grants us what we ask for.”

  “Maggie said that Sister St. Pius told her to pray to God when we want something. Why do you pray to Our Lady?” June squeezed her mother’s hand, wishing she would stop to talk.

  Cathy slowed her pace when they turned onto Diamond Street and could see the large granite church. The lights shining through the stained glass windows made the church look welcoming.

  “Well, you know when you ask Daddy for something special and he’s too busy? And I ask him for you? It’s the same with God and Our Lady. She knows how to ask God because She’s His mother.”

  “Is Our Lady the same as the Blessed Mother?” June was a bit confused with all the names for this person.

  “Right,” Cathy mumbled.

  “Can I pray for something special, too?” June asked as she stuffed the beads into the pocket of her pedal pushers.

  “Of course, that’s why you’re making a Novena.” Cathy dipped her head slightly as they passed the small garden with the statue of Our Lady.

  June copied her mother because, as Cathy had told her, it showed Our Lady respect for Her. Finally, they reached the church steps. June piped up. “I’m going to pray that Daddy’ll like me.”

  “Don’t be silly, pet. Daddy loves you.”

  “Then I’m going to pray to Our Lady so I don’t tell you any more stories to get you mad at me. Is that a good thing to pray for, Mammy?

  Cathy let go of June’s hand and started up the broad white marble steps of the Church. The two could hear singing through the heavy, ornate wooden Church doors. June’s knees rose high with each steep step up to the doors. She offered her mother advice, “Why don’t you pray not to have bad dreams about..”

  “Shh. Quiet now,” Cathy said, placing her palm on the door and giving it a hearty push.

  The angelic hymn, “Ave Maria,” sung in Latin, echoed throughout the softly lit church and flooded June’s senses as they quietly entered. With the few parishioners present singing loudly, the church seemed so very big and empty to the little girl. In awe, she gingerly stepped forward onto the burgundy aisle runner. The church took on a different appearance at night, with a mystical ambiance that wasn’t present during the day. A few wall sconces illuminated the area where the priest was singing. On the altar were two tall white tapered candles in brass holders and a crystal vase with three long-stemmed white roses set on a crisp white cloth. On opposite sides of the altar were countless candles that flickered in their red glass holders in front of pictures of Our Lady and St. Joseph. With eyes full of wonder, June realized that she was indeed in a sacred place.

  Her mother dipped a finger into a small glass bowl attached to the wall by the door and traced the sign of the cross on her forehead. June followed suit. She then led June and tiptoed down the side aisle. They sat behind a row of elderly women and directly across from a middle-aged woman with two teen-aged girls.

  June glanced around at the women, old and young. “Is this just for ladies and girls?” she whispered loudly. The elderly row turned in unison and frowned toward the source of the disruption. Upon eyeing the perky-faced little girl, they smiled and nodded a greeting, not missing a beat of the hymn.

  When the hymn ended, the priest led the group in the prayers of the Rosary. Cathy sank onto her knees with her rosary beads looped around her hands. June copied her mother. She knelt next to her with her white beads between both hands and accurately recited her favorite prayer, the “Hail Mary.”

  She stared reverently at the life-sized statue of a beautiful woman in a sky-blue and white robe. Pointing to the statue, she said, “Mammy, She’s going to give you what you want.” But her words were drowned out as the women began loudly praying in unison, “Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with you. Blessed art thou amongst women…”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 12

  WE HAVE A FRIEND!

  THE BLACK-AND-WHITE television set blared “What’s My Line” as Cathy ironed Jimmy’s work shirts. Interrupting her private time, June ran down the hallway shouting, “Mammy, Mammy!”

  “In here, pet,” she called.

  June burst into the room in a blur with her hair flying behind.

  “Call me Mommy. We’re in America now. We don’t say Mammy anymore,” Cathy said reminding her daughter above the blare of the television. Taking a quick look at the game show, she said, “A private investigator! I bet you anything.”

  “Oh, I forgot, Mommy,” said June, teetering bac
k and forth excitedly from foot to foot. “I’ve got a surprise for you!”

  Cathy looked back at the television as she heard one of the panelists give an answer. “I was right!” She turned down the volume and directed her attention to June. “What did you and your make-believe friend do this time?”

  June was too excited to respond. Only the huge grin on her face could express the joy she felt. Cathy added some starch to a shirt collar and began ironing again.

  “I’ve found a real friend for us! Hurry up, Mommy.”

  “Now?” Cathy asked, putting the shirt on a hanger. “I’ve got to finish this so we can be on time when your sisters get out of school.” She picked up a dress from the basket of clothes.

  Grabbing her mother’s hand, June pulled at her and Cathy chuckled at her daughter’s excited insistence. She laid down the dress and turned off the television set.

  They walked down the hallway and out the back door. Incense filled the air as they descended the steep wooden stairs to the second landing. The aroma was all around them when they reached their downstairs neighbor’s porch. An old woman sat at a rusted metal table covered by a faded orange colored tablecloth with large green leaves. On the table was a brown teapot with the makings for a cup of tea, a crimson silk scarf wrapped around an object, a photo album and incense burning in a tiny cast-iron pot.

  The old woman’s eyes were like bottomless black pools. Her salt and pepper hair was loosely piled up into a bun on the crown of her head.

  Ah! This must be the old woman Jimmy mentioned, Cathy thought.

  June squeezed her mother’s hand excitedly. “Mrs. Gorzalkowski’s our new friend.”

  Cathy heard “new friend” followed by a garbled word. Shyly, she smiled and said, “Hello. Hope she’s not been a bother.”

  The old woman chuckled and winked at June, who smiled broadly as she looked back and forth between the two women.