"When are we going to get short'nin bread?" Gerta asked. She had come to the bedroom doorway.
"In a few days," Cinnamon told her. "She probably won't remember anyway," she whispered. "But for now, let's all just sit and talk. okay?"
"And sing?"
"And sing," Cinnamon agreed. "Honey," she told me as she started back to the living room. "you stay in here and search some more. See if you can find anything that would help explain any of this."
I nodded and waited until they were all in the living room again. Then I began with the dresser drawers. There was nothing but the articles of clothing. The closet presented no hints either. I was about to give up when I thought about my own private places back home, and got on my knees to look under her bed. There I found a shoe box and brought it out.
They were singing again in the living room, this time along with the recording. I opened the box. Inside was a pink ribbon, a pretty woman's watch, and a very faded picture of a boy who looked about ten standing beside a little girl. Behind the little girl was a tall man in a suit and tie, his hands on her shoulders. I looked closely at the watch. It was pretty, but apparently not working. When I turned it over, I read the inscription: To Gerta Berta. Love, Daddy.
Cinnamon came to the doorway. "Well?"
I stood up and showed her the box. She came over and looked at the watch and the picture.
"This could be her and that could be Edmond. I bet that's their father," she said. "Look how stiffly Edmond is standing next to her, not holding her hand or anything. Is this it?"
"So far." I replied.
She took the picture back and showed it to Gerta.
"Who is this?" Cinnamon asked, pointing to the little boy she thought was Edmond.
Gerta took the picture into her hands and looked.
"It's me." she said.
"No, isn't this you?" Cinnamon asked, touching the picture. Gerta shook her head.
"That's Gerta Berta," she said.
"What?" I asked.
Suddenly Ice and Rose were beside us.
"Someone's at the costume room door," Ice whispered. "We heard the lock being opened."
We pulled back just as Laura Fairchild stepped into the living room.
"What are you doing. Gerta?" she demanded harshly.
"Sing."
"It's time I put the costume back and you went to sleep. Your mother wants you to go to sleep early tonight."
"I don't want to go to sleep. I want to sing."
"Do what you're told," Laura said firmly. "You want to go buy new clothes, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Then do what you're told or you won't go. It's enough singing and you've worn the costume long enough. I promised your mother I'd see that you went to bed. Go on, take it off." she ordered. "And I'll put it back where it belongs. C'mon."
"I was having fun," Gerta whined. "I don't want to go to bed. I'm not tired."
"Gerta, do you want me to have to cut off your hair again and shave your head?"
"I'll just wear a wig." she replied.