Syl

1403 words

"Could you please open this dratted jar for me?"  Grandma handed the jar of pickles to Mama and rubbed the knuckles of her right hand.

Mama opened the jar and said, "Why don't you go and sit down?  The rest of us can finish cooking dinner."

"I will not be chased out of my own kitchen.  The day I can't cook Sunday dinner for my family will be the day they put me in the ground." Grandma stopped rubbing her hand and attacked a bowl of potatoes with a masher, muttering  to herself the whole time. 

"Get out of there, Sandra," she scolded as she caught me snitching some of the marshmallows that were supposed to go in the Jello salad. "Honestly, there won't be any food left for dinner if you keep stealing it.  Outside with you until dinner is ready."  She chased me out the kitchen door the way Mama shoos chickens out of the vegetable garden.

"Boy, Grandma sure is grouchy today," I said to my big sister Karen who was sitting on the back porch.

Karen shrugged.  "Old people are always grouchy for some reason.  She has Arthur-itis or something that makes her hands and knees hurt."

"She says I have to stay outside 'til dinner's ready. Wanna go play hide and seek over in the park?"

Karen made a face.  "Nah, hide and seek is for babies.  I'm going for a walk."

I didn't remind her that she had asked me to play hide and seek with her just a couple of days ago. I knew she was going for a walk because Billy Johnson lived down the street.  I had peeked into her diary once and saw Billy's name inside a big heart.

I skipped across the street to the park wishing I was wearing blue jeans instead of my dumb church dress.  The frilly yellow dress made me look like Big Bird's little sister.  Most of the kids in town were home eating Sunday dinner, so I had the playground to myself.  I was heading for the swings when I heard a voice.

"Hello."

I looked around but didn't see anyone. 

"Hello," I heard again.  The voice seemed to be coming from a baby angel statue by the gate of a flower garden next to the park.  It was a funny echoing voice, as if someone was talking inside a barrel.

"Who said that?"  Thinking Karen was playing a joke on me, I looked behind the statue but nobody was there.

"I did, silly."  I jumped because the voice was definitely coming from the baby angel. He had been standing with his hands folded as if saying a prayer, but now one hand was waving at me.  I blinked and rubbed my eyes but he was still waving.

"You-you can talk?  And move?" I asked.

"Of course I can.  I only talk to people I like and I only move when I have someone to play with.  Would you play with me?"

"Um, sure."

"Terrific!"  The baby angel leaped into the air, spun around and landed on his big toe like a ballet dancer.  I expected a loud noise when he landed, but he didn't make a sound.

"You sure sound grown up for a baby," I said, not knowing what to say to a statue.

He folded his arms and frowned at me.  "I am not a baby.  I am a cherub and I'm more than two hundred years old."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Cherub. I didn't know."

He smiled. "That's okay.  It's a common mistake.  And what is your name, my golden haired princess?"

"Sandra, but everyone calls me Sandy."

"Sandy is a beautiful name.  My name is Sylvester Snorkelbeam but you may call me Syl." 

"Sylvester Snorkelbeam!  That's a funny name."

"I know, but a little girl who used to play with me every day gave me that name, so I like it.  She was the best friend I ever had.  You remind me of her, a little."  He looked sad. " I haven't seen her in a long time.  I miss her." He jumped up and pointed to the garden.  "Won't you come in to the garden?" he asked.  "I would like my roses to see you."

"But flowers don't have eyes.  They can't see."

Syl laughed.  "You didn't think statues could talk, either."  He took my hand and led me into the garden.

"Wow!" I said as I looked around.  That garden had more colors than my box of 120 crayolas.  There were roses of every color and size, from red ones the size of a dime to white ones as big as cabbages.  There were yellow tulips, purple irises, pink hollyhocks, and hundreds of other flowers I had never seen before. A rainbow carpet of petals covered the ground.  It was the prettiest place I had ever seen, or smelled.

"Everyone!" Syl called as he led me down the stone path.  "I would like you all to meet my friend Sandy.  Sandy, meet the garden."

The garden buzzed with hundreds of excited whispery voices and giggles.  As we walked down the path the flowers bobbed and nodded their bright heads in our direction.

"The flowers like you very much, Sandy," Syl announced.  "With your yellow dress and hair you could be a daffodil.  They have awarded you the title of Honorary Flower and want you to know that you are welcome in the garden any time."

He grabbed my hand and fluttered into the air, whirling and twirling me around.  I felt like a princess dancing in fairyland.  When we were both out of breath, he jumped up into his place by the garden gate and bowed to me.

"Sandy, it was a pleasure meeting you.  I hope you'll come back and visit me and the garden again."

"Oh, yes I will. When I come back, can we play hide and seek?"

"Sandy, are you talking to that dumb statue?" Karen was walking toward us.

"Guess what, the statue--"

"Shhhh!" Syl had stopped moving and held his finger to his lips.

"Uh, I was just pretending he could talk," I finished.

"Boy, are you strange.  Come on, Grandma says dinner's ready."

As Karen turned and walked back toward the house, Syl stuck his thumbs in his ears, wiggled his fingers, and stuck out his tongue.

"I have to go, Syl," I whispered.  "But, I'll come back and play with you very soon.  I promise."

"I'd like that very much.  Tell Annie Jo I said hello and that I miss her."

I stopped. "Who's Annie Jo?"

"The little girl who gave me my name."

"But I don't know her."

"Yes, I think you do," Syl said and winked.

"But--"  I stopped because Syl was standing as still as--well, a statue, with his hands folded as I had first seen him.  I turned to look at him while I walked back to the house, but he didn't move.

After dinner, while all the other adults were either sleeping or playing cards, Grandma sat in her chair resting.  Karen and I sat beside her looking through some old photo albums.  I found a black and white picture of a little girl who looked like me.  On the back of the picture, someone had written "Annabelle Josephine, age 7"

"Grandma, who is this little girl?"

"Why, that's me when I was your age," she replied.

"I didn't know your name was Annabelle Josephine."  I had never thought of Grandma having a name.  Karen and I called her Grandma, our parents called her Mama, and Grandpa just called her Honey.

"When I was a little girl, everyone called me Annie Jo."

I gasped and put both hands over my mouth.

"What's wrong?" Grandma asked.

"Oh--um, nothing!"

Later, when we were ready to go home, Grandma bent down to hug me goodbye.  I whispered in her ear, "Sylvester Snorkelbeam says hello.  He says he misses you."

"Wha--?"

For a minute I thought Grandma was going to cry but then she smiled like I hadn't seen her smile in a long time.  "I miss him too," she whispered.

As we drove out of town, I looked out the back window of our car toward the park.  Maybe it was a trick of the moonlight, but I thought I saw my Grandma in the garden and she seemed to have forgotten all about Arthur Whats-his-name. She was holding hands with Syl and dancing on a rainbow carpet like a princess in fairyland.