Ian would be very interested to know that. I thought, I pressed the paper bag of his letters tighter to me. I had to be sure to write it down and put it in my next letter to him. I hoped Great-aunt Frances would make sure the letter was mailed to him.
Then again, perhaps she'd been told not to do that. I had no idea what her instructions about me were. I knew she was younger than Grandmother Emma. but I didn't know exactly how much younger. I wondered if she was as elegant and as aristocratic a woman. Would everything be as formal in her house? Did she bark orders at servants, too? How much did she know about me? The more questions I asked myself, the more anxious I became.
I think Felix was watching me on and off in his rearview mirror. Suddenly he said. "Everything is going to be fine. You'll see.-'
How could everything be fine? I wanted to ask him. but I didn't want to seem ungrateful either, so I turned instead to look at the scenery and play another one of the games Ian had taught me to play whenever we were trying to ignore a long ride. We'd each choose a color and then claim a point for anything that was that color. Somehow, he always won; he always chose the right colors and got the most points. I didn't mind it. To me it seemed Ian should always win, always be right and correct. It was truly like having a big brother who was solid and strong in very important ways. Maybe he couldn't beat up other boys with his hands, but he certainly could destroy them with his words. He could even do it to adults.
I think I was more frightened about being without him beside me than I was about being without my parents.
Despite the game I tried to play and the beautiful sunny day, the ride began to feel dreary and long. I was going to start reading Ian's letters, but usually when I read in the car. I got carsick faster, and I wanted to save them for when I would be alone.
Twice Felix asked me if I needed to stop or wanted him to stop to buy me something to eat, candy, gum, anything. It surprised me because Grandmother Emma never permitted us to bring gum or candy into her limousine. She insisted on it being kept spotless. It was years old but looked like it had just been built. I wondered if she would ever ride in it again.
Finally. Felix announced we were in the community in which the farm was located. I felt like we were descending into another world, a world stained with shacks and run-down houses, overgrown farm fields, a village with most of the stores boarded up and buildings needing fresh paint. Children along the way gaped in awe at our passing limousine as if they had never seen a car so big on their broken highways. It made me feel as if my grandmother's car had been a space ship and I'd been an extraterrestrial.
Felix pointed out the school, an old-fashioned looking redbrick building of three floors. I caught a glimpse of the playground and the parking lot. School hadn't started here either yet, so there were only a few cars there and no students around the building,
"It's not too far from your great-aunt's farm." Felix told me.
"I have to ride a school bus," I said. I knew that much. Ian and I had always been driven to our private school and back.
"Well, you'll like that. It's how you can get to know other kids your age, too. I rode a school bus to school until I had my own car."
I couldn't imagine Felix as a young boy. Some people just couldn't be diminished in your mind. They would always be the same size. It was just as impossible, if not more impossible, to imagine Grandmother Emma as a young girl even though I had seen some pictures of her. She looked so different, softer. happier. Were they really pictures of her? Maybe she used someone else's pictures.
It was as if the world was really frozen in time. I was always this age and size, and so were my parents and grandparents. everyone. Everything else, the albums, the stories, all of it, was just makebelieve.
We turned dawn a very long highway where there were fewer and fewer houses, and these, too, weren't very nice. Most were small and old and didn't look well cared for, because thei
r lawns were not neat and there weren't pretty bushes and flowers like there were at Grandmother Emma's home and the homes around it.
Those I saw were far apart from each other. Felix pointed out what he called some working farms and one horse farm, where there were dozens of horses in corrals.
"It's beautiful country here," he said. This time he really did sound as if he was saying that to himself.
Maybe he really does want to live here now, I thought, even though the houses don't seem as nice as the houses in Bethlehem. What if Grandmother Emma never came out of the hospital? Would he remain working for my father, or would he retire? Once he dropped me off now, would I ever see him again?
"Daddy told me he's getting a special car that he will be able to drive," I said. I said it to see what Felix would tell me. Would that mean he wouldn't be needed to drive Daddy anywhere anymore?
"Hmm. so I hear," he said. He didn't sound very convinced or at all worried about keeping his job. He sounded confident that my father would always want someone to do things for him. "Okay," he announced a moment later. "get ready. It's right ahead on the left side."
I leaned forward, then slid myself to the left side of the car as we drew closer to the old farm. The property began with a fieldstone wall not much taller than I was. Looking closely at the wall. I saw how weeds and mold had invaded it. Some of the stones appeared ready to topple, and in some places, they had crumbled. Why didn't anyone fix it? I wondered.
Grandmother Emma would be very upset.
At the foot of the driveway, there was a tall iron gate. It was wide open and quite rusted. The gate looked somewhat bent, too, because the hinges had come apart toward the top. The bottom of the right side was stuck in the ground and looked like it hadn't been closed for a hundred years. Was Felix sure this was Great-aunt Frances Wilkens's home? He said he hadn't been here for some time. He could be making a mistake.
"What happened here?" Felix muttered to himself when he slowed down.
"Maybe this isn't it. Felix."
"Oh, this is it. I'm sure."
The driveway itself was nowhere as pretty as Grandmother Emma's. This one was just dirt and crushed stones with ditching on both sides. Weeds grew up out of the ditching, too. Felix had to drive very slowly because there were large potholes to avoid.
"Well, this is gone to the dogs," he said.
I looked to the right and saw the uncut grass frill of tall weeds. There was another, much smaller house with a small tractor parked off to the right of that. I could see it had a flat tire and leaned so far to the right that it looked like it might topple. An oldlooking, dirty blue car was parked in front, parked on what looked like what little lawn the house had.