Edith Crowe
Prologue
I can't believe what I heard tonight. I can't believe that Ednawould abandon me after all these years, after all I've done for herand her family. I know her husband's death was a blow to her, butreally--isn't it a bit drastic to run off to Florida, of all places,even if her son and his family are there? It isn't like she can'tvisit whenever she wants to. She could stay as long as she likes, aslong as she comes back to me. I've sheltered and protected her for solong...
Oh well, I suppose I'm not being realistic. Her kind are likethat...flighty, undependable, always moving around. From what myneighbors tell me, I'm lucky to have been with the same family for solong. If I'd gone to one of her brothers I'd probably be chopped upinto apartments by now, like so many of the other houses on thestreet. I suppose I should be grateful she's keeping me intact andselling me to someone we know. At least she's spared me the indignityof being put on the open market. Oh, I've heard horror stories aboutthat! Unctuous real estate agents, total strangers wandering throughyou, asking rude questions, pawing your woodwork, peering into yourclosets--even flushing your toilets! How hideous.
At least Catherine is a nice young woman, and I know sheappreciates me. I can remember her visiting with her grandmother whenshe was just a little girl. I suppose it's hard on Edna, outlivingmost of her old friends as well as her husband...well, enough ofthat. Catherine always thought I was beautiful, and knew how to treatme properly, at least. Maybe it won't be so bad. At least she won'tmake an apartment house of me; it's clear that she's eager to livehere herself. Since her father died--I was sad to hear that, I heardfrom his duplex on Gramercy Park that he was a man who knew how totreat a home properly--she certainly seems to have plenty of money.Not to put myself forward, but she'd have to, to afford me. And shedoesn't seem to have turned into one of those greedy real estatespeculators. If she were that interested in making money, shewouldn't have left Charles's firm for the District Attorney's Office,now would she? So perhaps it will be all right.
I do worry, though. There's a great deal that's distinctly oddabout this whole transaction. Edna seemed to imply that Catherine wasin need of my unique features, although I can't imagine where she gotthat idea. As the daughter of generations of outwardly stolidDutchmen, I can't imagine that Edna has any psychic sensitivity tospeak of. She probably hasn't any idea there's a ghost in thebasement, although it's admittedly a rather shy one. Nonetheless, shewas hinting all over the place that Catherine had something to hide,and if I do say so myself, I am ideally suited to anyone withsomething to hide.
The look on Catherine's face when she saw the hidden staircase andall the space inside the walls was a treat...and especially when shesaw that wine cellar in the basement. She spent an unusually longtime in there. It's not as if the vintages are thatimpressive, after all. I wonder why she spent so much time looking atthe back wall? She even tapped on it, for heaven's sake. It's not asif there's anything behind that wall expect some old tunnels...Hmm.Maybe Edna's sensed something after all. I hope Catherine's not up toanything dangerous or illegal; I had quite enough of that with Edna'sfamily. I know I owe them a great deal--my very life--but I've alwayshad very mixed feelings about the uses to which they put me.Smuggling and bootlegging and all that skullduggery... It wasexciting, I admit, but I've always felt rather embarassed about it.The neighbors were quite cool at first, although they've come aroundover the years. The stories I could tell about them! (Being a rowhouse, it's impossible to avoid knowing a great deal about one'sneighbors. I certainly do not snoop.) When Edna showed thesecret passage to Catherine, she mentioned how terrified her motherwas during Prohibition, when all that illegal liquor was hidden in mywalls. How does she think I felt, with a fire hazard likethat? I was greatly relieved when alcoholic beverages were made legalagain.
But I'm digressing, aren't I? Good grief, you'd think I were someancient Greek pile; I'm not that much over a hundred, for heaven'ssake. With my rather interesting life, it seems longer. I hope lifewith Catherine won't be too dull. I'm sure Edna is over-reacting,after all. I'm sure all Catherine wants is privacy, after thenotoriety she endured a few years ago. She did seem very appreciativeof my security system, which, if I do say so myself, isstate-of-the-art. That's it, of course. Yes it may be rather boringfor a while. I'd rather gotten used to Richard's interestingtheatrical friends flitting in and out. I miss him too, Edna. Thosewere good days, with Richard and Edna, and their dear children, andall their friends. Catherine is a young woman still; perhaps we'llhave a chance to raise a family again. And Catherine has friends. Iremember she brought along a very nice young lady named Jenny whenshe was in college. So perhaps it won't be too bad. Only time willtell.
Year One
What a snowy February so far. Not quite as bad as last year,perhaps...good heavens, I just realized it's been a whole year sinceCatherine moved in. Was I really worried that life with her would bedull? It's been so hectic I've barely had time to refle reflect onit. Well, I'm empty now, except for the cat, so this would be a goodtime, I suppose. Let me think...
I'd barely gotten over Edna's departure when I realized strangerswere messing about with my basement--the indignity--and from outside!Well, I was frantic, I can tell you. My security system was hardlydesigned for such an invasion. I couldn't think what to do. Isuddenly regretted paying so little attention to those tunnels on theother side, but they always seemed rather standoffish, and as Imentioned, I'm not one to put myself forward. Of course, I nowrealize they were merely being discreet, an admirable quality. We getalong quite well now, but then...
Fortunately, before I could figure out just how to collapse partof my basement wall on top of the strangers, I realized they weretalking about Catherine. Clearly they were doing this at her request,but I couldn't imagine why. Then I heard that name for the firsttime. Vincent. Something about a surprise for Vincent. I began tosuspect that Catherine and I wouldn't be quite as alone as I hadsurmised. That didn't explain why this Vincent person needed aconcealed entrance (very cleverly constructed, I might add) in thesubbasement. I confess I began to worry that Catherine had taken upwith some unsuitable young man. Having my walls full of drugswouldn't be quite as unsafe as all that high-proof alcohol, but Ihated the thought of being used to hide such things. I've listened tothe radio, seen the television. I know the sort of damage thesesubstances cause. I've also seen what law enforcement persons can doto a house they suspect of harboring such contraband. Battering rams,crowbars, sledgehammers--it pained me just to think about it.
Surely Edna wouldn't have condoned my use for such a purpose, Iconsoled myself. But that consolation was short-lived. Edna suspectedthat Catherine had a secret, but never really knew what it was.Edna's own romantic rebellion--marrying a poor young actor--hadturned out spectacularly well. Richard Davies was a fine gentleman,an excellent husband and father. He was also marvelously talented,and that talent didn't take too long to be recognized. He won manyawards, and eventually brought in more money than Edna's trust funds,much to the chagrin of Edna's brothers. Yes, we were all certainlywell taken care of; one of the reasons I'm in such excellentcondition today, despite the vagaries of fortune the West Seventieshave endured over the years.
Dear me, I'm digressing again. The point is, I was afraid thatEdna's own good fortune, and good judgement, romantically speaking,had caused her to view Catherine's situation through rose-coloredglasses. This is a different time, I told myself. Surely any reasonthat Catherine has to be so secretive about her young man must beserious indeed. Men of the caliber of Richard Davies were rare in hisown time, but now--gentlemen of integrity are few and far between.And what possible reason could a man of quality have to hidehimself?
Then I met Vincent.
What can I say? I thought life with the smuggling Van Der Meersand the Davies theatrical milieu had prepared me for anything, but Iwas wrong. What possibly could have prepared me for Vincent? When Ifirst saw him I was so astonished I almost blew a fuse. Let me behonest, I almost blew my entire fuse box. No wonder those tunnelshave had to be so discreet. No wonder Catherine needed a hiddenentrance. By the time I got over my initial shock and couldunderstand what Catherine and Vincent were saying, it soon becameclear that despite his rather, ah--unconventional appearance, Vincenthad the potential to be another Richard Davies. I wasn't about tomake snap judgments on such short acqaintance, but I haven't beencontinuously inhabited for over a hundred years without learningsomething about human behavior. Or--whatever.
One thing did take me back to the early days of Edna and Richard'smarriage, however, as soon as Catherine showed Vincent the masterbedroom. The only piece of my furniture that Edna took with her wasthe bed that she and Richard had shared. Catherine bought a newone--a quite attractive Stickley reproduction--and it seems that sheand Vincent couldn't wait to "christen" it.
One thing you must understand: a house never really sleeps. Evenwhen all its inhabitants are deep in slumber, a good house must beconstantly alert to the weather outside, to its own inner workings,to the earth beneath its foundation. Its duty is to provide shelterand protection, and this requires constant vigilance. So youunderstand, I am not a voyeur. It's just not possible for me,it's against my very nature, to be unaware of what goes on within mywalls--especially when it goes on so--ahem--vigorously. I confess Iwas a bit taken aback at just how vigorously. Richard and Ednawere quite an energetic and healthy young couple when they married,but they were nothing like--
I must point out that at this time, Catherine and Vincent were notindeed married. At first I was a bit judgemental at this--I was borna nineteenth-century house, after all, and can never quite escapethat--until I reminded myself that they could hardly ride down toCity Hall (quite a pleasant building for a City property, or so Ihear) and apply for their marriage license without causing a riot.But they did indeed marry not long after, "Below," as they call it,and the Tunnels assured me that it was a very nice weddingindeed.
Which reminds me of an incident which showed me what a finegentleman Vincent is. They had only been living with me a short whilewhen they had an interesting conversation in my Library. It soonbecame clear that the reason they had not yet spoken of marriage wasVincent's reluctance to" tie" Catherine to such a being as himself.Vincent is really an intelligent lad in most things, but...I believehe has quite a self-esteem problem. Humans! Or whatever. Catherinewas dropping hints the size of wrecking balls and pointingout--hypothetically (they discussed a lot of things hypotheticallywhen the dimmest garden shed could have seen they were really talkingabout themselves)--how some hypothetical woman married to a man shecouldn't acknowledge would be so happy to have him as her husbandthat nothing else would matter...
It was the word "husband," that did it, I think. Vincent wasfacing the fireplace then, holding the mantle (afraid to lookCatherine in the eye, no doubt)--and when he heard that word, hegripped my mantle so hard I thought he'd dented the wood. Up untilthen, I'd had no idea he was so strong. Vigorous, definitely, butalways gentle with Catherine. I began to realize then just what aremarkable gentleman he was. Having such strength, yet able to exertsuch control...quite remarkable.
Oh, I know he isn't always able to control it. The Tunnels told mestories, once they got to know me. Well, to my mind, Vincent is quitewithin his rights to do what he must to protect those he loves. I wasready to collapse a whole wall of bricks on top of Cullen and Mousewhen I thought they were invaders, so who am I to criticize Vincentfor doing what he must? I only wish I could tell him. One of thegreat frustrations of my kind is being unable to communicate withthose who inhabit us, except in the most indirect way. Dropping awall on someone is not exactly indirect, you say? The point is, noone ever assumes it's me. Even those humans who are at least alittle sensitive tend to assume I'm haunted, which is not the samething at all. A ghost is just another inhabitant, after all, and mostof them are frankly quite boring. They tend to have one-track mindsand are not good conversationalists at all. Although I've heardthere's a bookstore that...oh dear, I'm digressing again.
From what the Tunnels tell me, Vincent's view of himself is muchbetter now than when he first met Catherine, if you can believe it. Ishudder to think what he must have been like then, poor boy.Apparently his self-esteem improved makedly when he and Catherinefirst, uh, became vigorous. I can see that it would, since it's clearthat Catherine is very enthusiastic and appreciative. I know thesigns. Not only have I had many years of observation, but Edna'scleaning woman always listened to Dr. Ruth on the radio. I wonderwhat Dr. Ruth would make of Vincent? She seems like the sort whowould take him in stride, although she might embarass him by askingfor details of his vigorousness.
Vincent's attitude concerned me, because I saw it was hurtingCatherine. She's quite good at hiding things from him that might hurthim, quite remarkable when you know that they have some special bondthat makes him aware of her emotional state. (Would that it it workedwith houses.) Of course, he didn't see what I saw. He didn't see howoften she went into that room upstairs, the one that used to be anursery for the Davies children. He didn't even know it used to be anursery, but Catherine did. I knew she wanted it to be one again, butVincent, poor, dense, boy, didn't want them to risk having a childthat would be like him. Why not, I never could understand. Somedrivel about the restricted life he'd have to lead. I like that. TheTunnels may not be houses, precisely, but the ones I know areassuredly dwellings, and--even more important--they are homes.Which is more than I can say for some very expensive modernapartments. I could tell him stories...
On top of that , he gets to spend most of his evenings (includingmany vigorous nights) and not a few weekends in a truly excellentbrownstone of impressive pedigree and an exceptional record ofmaintenance. You'd think I was a tenement, from the way he talkedsometimes. Ah, well, I told myself, I must remember his upbringingand try to be more charitable. (I'd met Father by then, you see.)
Who knows how long that sad state of affairs might have gone on ifit hadn't been for Bulwer. Bulwer (short for Bulwer-Lytton) joinedour household one very nasty, stormy night last November. I had all Icould do to keep my shingles attached, and the rain...Well, Bulwershowed up cold and dripping on the doorstep and Catherine,kind-hearted soul that she is, took him in. Now many of my fellowdomiciles have mixed feelings about sheltering cats. The give you acertain enhanced hominess, and do keep you company when you havepeople who leave for the day. On the other hand, they scratch yourwoodwork. I rather like cats myself. Most of them know you forwhat you are and appreciate the shelter you give them. Cats likecomfort, after all, and I am very comfortable if I do say so myself.Given his life before we took him in, Bulwer is more appreciativethan most of my shelter, and he's turned out to be an excellentmouser. Those little pests in the basement were getting out of hand;I began to fear for my wiring and insulation. No more.
Besides, Bulwer has gained my everlasting gratitude forprecipitating the end of Vincent's ridiculous attitude about havingchildren. Seeing how loving and maternal Catherine was with a littlekitten seems to have been the last straw for Vincent. He finallyrealized how unhappy she was, for one thing--it certainly took himlong enough--and the truth is he just can't bear to do anything thatmakes Catherine unhappy. I can tell he still has his doubts, but he'swilling to try. His change of heart made Catherine even morevigorous, although I wouldn't have believed that were possible. It'sgood thing the bedroom has a good sturdy floor. And the solarium. Andthe living room. And the library. And....anyway, at this rate weshould be hearing the patter of little feet before long. BesidesBulwer's.
Year Two
Another year gone by. I can't believe it. It's been a fairly quietyear as these things go. No baby yet, though not for lack of trying.I suppose these things take a while. Catherine and Vincent are olderthan Edna and Richard were when they began their family; perhaps thatmakes a difference. We had quite a nice Christmas this year. I justrealized I forgot to mention that last year, didn't I? Well, you canimagine what Catherine and Vincent's first Christmas in me was like.I can be quite Dickensian during Christmastime, given the properaccouterments, even though I'm not quite the right period. Catherinereally "pulled out all the stops" for Vincent's first Christmas intheir own home, and I have so many decorations the attic can barelyhold all the boxes.
Well, this year was similar. I was decorated to the nines, andCatherine had a tree worthy of my tall ceilings, brought from herhouse in Connecticut. Now there's a building I'd like to have a chatwith. They spent their honeymoon there, you know. It must be aremarkably sturdy edifice.
We had lots of company. Jenny and her whole family came to visitat Hanukkah. She really is charming, more about her later. Devin andCharles visited for several weeks; they spent some of the time herealthough they mostly stayed Below. Catherine's boss Joe dropped bywith another of his rather colorful girlfriends and some other peoplefrom Catherine's office. A nice man, but terribly confused byCatherine. Some romantic feeling in the past, I suspect, which hasbeen firmly redirected into brotherly concern. Another gentleman,though something of a "diamond in the rough." He suspects all is notwhat it seems with Catherine, but has no idea what's going on. I hopeCatherine tells him someday. I think he can be trusted, and I'm quitea good judge of character. I feel sorry for the poor fellow.
I believe Catherine is doing some matchmaking. She's such ahappily married woman, she seems to think it her duty to find theperfect mate for all her friends. Vincent finds her determinationrather amusing, but I can tell he's also flattered. Good forCatherine; any boost to his self-esteem is a good thing. She invitedJenny for dinner a little while ago. She didn't tell her (or evenVincent until the last minute) that she'd also invited Ben Goldman,one of the Helpers. The Tunnels told me he's been away for some timein Florida (where Edna seems to be flourishing, by the way) takingcare of his dying father. They think quite highly of him, so perhapshe's worthy of Jenny. I hope so.
I'm very fond of Jenny. She has a sweet and generous nature, andapparently was quite taken with Vincent from their first meeting.Another good judge of character, it appears. Of all Catherine'sfriends, she's the one who's closest to knowing me for what I am. Shehas a gift, no doubt about it. She knows about the ghost in thebasement, although she hasn't mentioned it to Catherine. She cansense it's quite benign. I see her looking around sometimes whenshe's here, as if she can almost sense my presence, but not quite.It's frustrating. I'd love to talk with her. Bulwer's a goodconversationalist but doesn't have the knowledge of Catherine's pastthat Jenny does. It would be so interesting to hear about her collegeyears...
Catherine has been so good to me this past year. Miyoko, theTunnels' chief gardener, has done wonders with my back yard. It wasalways pleasant, but now it's quite beautiful. She managed to designthings in such a way that in summer, when everything is in leaf,Vincent can go out there and not be seen. Catherine planted arosebush that used to be on the balcony of her old apartment. I wasquite moved by that. It has great sentimental value to her; when sheplanted it in the ground it was like a symbol of the permanence ofour relationship. I'm so glad she likes it here.
Miyoko's even put in a roof garden! I was quite overwhelmed. I'mthe envy of the neighborhood. I confess I'm so proud of being so wellcared for I can can barely contain myself. The garden will provide alot of produce for those Below--the herbs smell wonderful--and itmakes me look so elegant.
I even have a housekeeper now. Her name is Margaret Maloney, andan excellent woman she is. Knows how to treat a house properly.Another one of those ubiquitous Helpers, she used to work in one ofthose snooty buildings on Park Avenue. Her face became terriblyscarred from a fire, and her employers didn't want her to work forthem anymore. Can you imagine? Sometimes I just don't understandpeople. I would have nothing but admiration for a house that hadsurvived a fire well enough to be rebuilt, even if it weren't quitethe structure it used to be.
Well, their loss is our gain. Margaret comes here every day,Monday through Friday. Catherine's trying to convince her to live in,so far without success. I think she doesn't want people to thinkshe's hiding. She's a very proud woman, but I hope she changes hermind. I have so much room. At least it's nice to have company whenCatherine's at work and Vincent's below. I have Bulwer, of course,but any cat out of kittenhood seems to spend a great deal of timesleeping. Various people from Below pop in and out during the day ofcourse, to get a book from our extensive library, or even watchtelevision (educational, of course). Catherine has a computer, too,and some of the children come up to use it, especially Eric. He'sbecoming quite the little scientist.
Speaking of computers, Catherine told Ben at dinner that she wantsto convert one of my unused rooms into a science and computer lab forthe children. At first I wasn't sure what to make of that, but nowI'm getting quite excited about it. First the gardens, now a computerlab (which will no doubt require upgraded wiring). To think I wasunhappy when Edna sold me to Catherine! I thought it was such atragedy, and in retrospect it was the best thing that ever happenedto me. At this rate, I'm going to be the finest house on theblock.
Year Three
Quite an interesting year--although I imagine that's redundant,considering who lives in me now. We had quite a scare early lastyear. One of Catherine's clients, a battered wife, was shot at by herhusband right there in the DA's office. Catherine was with her at thetime, and apparently the bullet came awfully close to Catherine. Ihad to piece all this together, of course, from what was said in mypresence and what the Tunnels told me. Catherine managed to get thewoman--Moira was her name, as I recall--into the upper Tunnels. WithVincent's help, they brought her to a Helper's. Fortunately it wastoo dark to see Vincent properly down there, even if Moira, the poorthing weren't practically unconscious by then. It all seems to haveturned out all right in the end, but it caused a lot of emotionalturmoil around here.
Vincent was upset because it reminded him of "the bad old days"when he and Catherine were beset by that sort of thing all the time.It seems quite unbelievable to me, what their life was like then. IfI hadn't heard it directly from the Tunnels I wouldn't have believedit. He still worries about what he did in those days to protectCatherine, though I still can't quite understand why. I'd do anythingto protect her, and wouldn't feel the least bit guilty about itafterwards. Let someone try to hurt her within my walls, and they'dhave the biggest chunk of plaster you can imagine fall on theirheads. Or my stairs would get very slippery. If they came near alight switch--well, I believe you get the point.
Catherine got upset because Vincent was upset, and even talkedabout quitting her job, which then made Vincent feel guilty--humansdo make their lives so unneccesarily complicated.That's what'sconvinced me that Vincent is human, or mostly. At least they're neverboring. I'd love Catherine home all day (although she'd spend part ofit with the Tunnels, of course, musn't be selfish). But like Vincent,I want whatever makes her happy. It makes her happy to help otherpeople, and she feels that at least for now, she can best do thatwhere she is.
The ironic thing is that just before all this happened, Catherinewas afraid she was getting too boring and predictable, so she gaveVincent a little surprise for Valentine's day. It involved achocolate chess set and the most amazingly revealing dress I've everseen her wear. Or anybody wear, for that matter. I was built in thedays when women had more fabric in their hats than Catherine had inthat dress, and it was a floor-length dress, so you can imagine....itwas the shortest chess game ever played in this house.
Now, a house of my age has experienced plenty of romanticactivity, but usually at one remove, in a bed. If it's done right,one gets a rather interesting sensation in the floor underneath.Despite having a comfortable and sturdy bed upstairs, Catherine andVincent seem to have an unusual affinity for the floor in front ofthe library fireplace. They celebrated their engagement there, as amatter of fact. They've also celebrated the Spring Equinox, GroundhogDay, Millard Fillmore's birthday and Architect knows what else. Butlast Valentine's Day--when there's nothing but a Persian rug(antique, quite an attractive pattern) and an afghan between yourfloorboards and all that vigor---exceptional vigor, on thisoccasion--it's quite a sensation, I can tell you. It made me feelnewly built again.
Things calmed down by the summer, and Catherine convinced Vincentthat dangerous incident was only a fluke. I hope so. Those twodeserve a peaceful life after what they've been through. If it wereup to me and the Home Tunnels, they would, but they do insist ongadding about. Catherine actually goes outside, and I can hardlyprotect her there. Even Vincent insists on going into all sorts ofdeep and distant tunnels, some of which are quite uncivilized andwould just as soon collapse on you as look at you. Or so my adjacentTunnels tell me.
If only they had a child they'd be at home more, but alas, no signof that. It breaks my heart to see Catherine try to pretend itdoesn't matter, and watch Vincent pretend to believe her. She nevergoes into the nursery now, and she's taken those baby books shebought two years ago and put them down in the bottom corner of thebookcase, behind the table, where you can't see them in the shadows.It breaks my heart.
It's not that the house isn't filled with children, I just wishthey could include Vincent and Catherine's children. Catherine madegood on her promise, and I now have a very up-to-date computer andscience laboratory on my premises. With my new heavy-duty wiring Ifeel quite modern, but with the charm and craftsmanship of an oldergeneration. I must be careful or I'll get quite above myself.
"Chandler Labs," as everyone jokingly calls it, is used every dayby Eric and Mouse, although Mouse is strictly forbidden to touch someof the equipment without Ben's supervision. Ben spends a lot of hisspare time teaching the Tunnel children, and even more of it withJenny. They both seem very happy, and Catherine has been quite smugabout that particular matchmaking success. The garden looks morebeautiful all the time. Not a bad year, all in all.
Architect, I can't believe it! Catherine just told Vincent she'spregnant!
Year Four
I can barely talk about this past year without my pipes dripping,it's been so moving and so wonderful. I haven't had a child born inme since Edna, and that was over eighty years ago. I'm so gratefulthat Vincent's rather unusual appearance precluded Catherine going toa hospital, like everyone seems to do these days. Ridiculous place tohave a baby if you ask me. People should be born at home and die athome. I don't suppose I'm completely objective, but really--why wouldanyone want to take their first breath or breathe their last in somevast, anonymous place that doesn't really know you. Hospitals try, Iknow, but you just can't establish a relationship with hundreds ofpeople you only meet for a little while.
I am not unaware of the advantages of modern medical care,especially after all the medical conversations that have gone on inhere this past year. Father fussed a great deal about not knowingwhat to expect with Catherine's pregnancy, even before he found outshe was going to have twins. I dearly wish she'd delivered that bitof information up here, but alas, I had to hear it second-hand fromthe Tunnels.
Actually, twins turned out to be quite an advantage, both forCatherine and for me. Father absolutely insisted that Catherineremain Above as much as possible for the rest of her pregnancy, sinceit seems that one of the problems with twins is keeping them frombeing born too early. I'd been rather concerned about Catherinehaving a difficult time, since she's quite a little thing, andVincent is quite a large fellow. (In many ways, if what Catherinetells him in bed is true.) But having two at once means that neitherone is likely to be that big, so I was quite relieved. And Father wonthis argument for once, so I got to have Catherine here at homealmost every day for six months. It was glorious. She was unhappyabout not seeing all her friends and family in the Tunnels oftenenough, so they took turns visiting her. I haven't been so crowdedsince the height of Richard's fame; I loved it! I met someone new asa result of all this, Dr. Helen Robinson. Very nice young woman, anew Helper--something of a protegé of Peter Alcott, I believe.She's a resident in emergency medicine, so we were prepared foranything.
Poor Vincent went through quite a difficult time--much more sothan the usual expectant father. Incipient parenthood dragged up alot of his old fears and doubts about himself, and about inflictinghis heritage on an innocent child. I swear, it takes a great deal ofself-control on my part not to drop something on his head at timeslike these. It amazes me that Catherine has so far refrained fromsomething similar. Seeing him waver between joy and anxiety has beenquite trying for all of us. As the due date got closer, he seemedhappier, but that probably just means he's stuffed it down into thatcommodious depth where he hides all his prodigious worries. Patience,I tell myself. Only time will erode those doubts of his.
It was a little less than three weeks before her time whenCatherine told Vincent in the middle of the night that her time wasnow. My, what a night that was! Phone calls at four a. m.,much banging of pipes, doctors and other friends gathering. At onepoint we had, in addition to the parents, Father, Peter, Mary, Helen,Jenny, and Jamie. I think Catherine and Vincent were the calmest onesin the group, curiously enough. They were so wrapped up in each otherthat at times I'm not sure they remembered there was anyone elsehere.
When the moment finally came, Catherine seemed more triumphant andelated than anything else. She'd wanted this so much for so long,after all. I shall never, as long as I stand, forget the look onVincent's face when he helped usher his children into the world, orthe look on Catherine's when she saw it. It was the most tender, mostmoving...
Where was I? Oh yes, they had a girl, Caroline, born first. Thespitting image of her mother at that age, according to Peter,although he was quite awash in sentiment at the time so I'm not surehow accurate that is. Then about ten minutes later came Jacob--hisfather's child and no mistake. Father was quite overcome at thatpoint, remembering Vincent as a baby. Quite a moment, with copioushugs, kisses, tears, and exclamations all around. Catherine lookedexhausted but ecstatic; Vincent looked not unlike I would expect himto look had I carried out my threat to drop that plaster on hishead.
After Catherine recuperated a bit they went Below. How empty Ifelt! At times like these I find the double life Catherine andVincent must lead a sore trial. I wish they could just live here allthe time, with no need for a hidden refuge. It's selfish, I know, butI got so used to having them here every day, and watching thechildren's birth was so wonderful--and now I'm suddenly empty. I feelbereft.
Year Five
My, I certainly was feeling sorry for myself at this time lastyear, wasn't I? It was rather lonely at first. Catherine and Vincentweren't the only ones who waited a long time for those children, itseems; every one of their friends Above and Below seem to have hopedand prayed with them. Now they just can't get enough of littleCaroline and Jacob. Their parents don't dare remove the children fromtheir adoring public for too long. However, sometimes the attentiongets overwhelming and they escape to me, just for some quiet timetogether. I'm also large enough that they can resume their vigorousbehavior without worrying about waking the children. Catherine seemsto have recovered remarkably quickly.
Catherine is determined to breast-feed as long as possible, whichtakes some effort with twins. So far she's been successful. Iheartily approve. Call me old-fashioned, but if it was good enoughfor Edna and her mother before her--besides, I love to watch Vincentwhen Catherine does it. Jacob usually takes longer to finish than hissister--quite a healthy appetite on that boy--and Vincent holdsCaroline while he watches Catherine feed Jacob. The look on his faceis hard to describe, but I've seen it on the faces of those who'vecome home at last after a long, perilous journey.
My nursery is a nursery again at last. Right now it gets used moreas a playroom, since Catherine and Vincent want to keep the babies intheir room (except when they're being vigorous too loudly). It feelswonderful to hear the sound of children's laughter in there after somany years. Catherine is determined that her children will be awareof both Above and Below, even if Jacob will never be able to liveopenly Above. Perhaps the world will change that much in hislifetime, but I doubt it. Human progress--true progress, in theheart--seems to move along a slow and erratic path.
Which is why Nancy Tucker, Joe Maxwell, and other friends ofCatherine's who don't know her secret, think Catherine has only onechild. The nursery is arranged so that Jacob's crib can be sceenedoff, just in case a persistent visitor should want to see it,although Catherine never volunteers to show them. Catherine's friendsare unlikely to be so persistent, anyway. They are much too politefor that. Jenny knows everything, of course, but she's not just anAbove friend any more, she's been a Helper for years. Joe knows thatthere's a Vincent around whom Catherine loves, and that he's thefather of her child. Catherine had to tell him something when sheasked for her leave. He's accepted Catherine's assertions thatVincent remains in the background for a reason. He seems to havegotten the impression that Vincent has some disfiguring conditionthat he's very sensitive about, and Catherine has avoided correctingthat useful misconception. I'd love to see the look on his face if hesaw Vincent in the flesh.
It was interesting enough seeing the look on his face whenCatherine told him she had decided to resign before her leave was up.He looked rather like a very large shoe had finally dropped, right onhis foot. He was upset, but not totally surprised. He told Catherinehe was lucky to have her around as long as he had, and that eversince he'd first seen her with Caroline he'd been expecting this. Hecould tell that being a mother, especially after waiting so long, wastoo important to her to go back to the kind of hours she'd put in atthe DA's before. He went on about having people lined up around theblock to take the job, so she shouldn't worry about that, but no onecould ever really replace her.
They got rather teary for a while, and then nostalgic. They wenton for a long time, talking about "the old days," and by the timethey were through I was about to have fits. No wonder Vincent hadneeded to protect Catherine so much in the early days. I had no ideabeing an attorney could be so dangerous, unless one worked for theCosa Nostra. (I know a very elegant mansion with quite a few Mafiaattorneys enjoying their eternal rest under the basement floor, butthat was back in the 1930s.) It's a good thing I didn't knowCatherine well in those days, or I'd be tempted to make all my doorsand windows stick so she couldn't get out.
When Catherine was pregnant, she kept up doing legal research onthose computer databases, pro bono, for various Helpers andtheir friends. Dr. Helen's husband is a Legal Aid attorney, and heand Catherine have been talking about her doing that sort of thing ona regular basis. I'm all for it of course, since she'd have to do ithere. Despite Mouse's schemes, computers have not made it Below, nordo I think it likely thet will anytime soon. It's nice to know Istill have something unique to offer.
Year Eight
Well, I got my wish after all. I saw Joe Maxwell's face the firsttime he saw Vincent. Just as I expected, it was a treat.
Catherine seems to have settled into a fairly good balance betweenAbove and Below in the last few years. She spent a lot of time withthe children the first couple of years, all too much of it Below. Ithink she rather enjoyed being a Tunnel woman for awhile, learningall the basic survival skills she never really needed before. She'sbecome a much better cook, according to Devin (so you can take thatwith a grain of salt). Lucky for him he lives in the Adirondacks andonly visits, or Catherine might have done him an injury by now. He'smellowed a bit, what with a successful writing career, and marriage,and fatherhood, but he'll never be quite respectable.
Catherine has become quite a skilled candlemaker, and was a greathelp to Rebecca when she had her first baby. She's also been teachingthe older children, things like history, economics, and law. I'venever seen her so happy, mostly because Vincent is happier thananyone can ever remember. Fatherhood seems to have finally gotten itthrough his thick skull that he deserves to be happy.Unconditional love will do that to a person. Now, in addition toCatherine, there's Caroline and Jacob, who seem to be convinced thesun rises and sets in Daddy. Not that Jacob gets to see the sun much,although he does get to go into the back yard in summer. Catherineand Jenny even took them and Jenny's little girl out to Catherine'shouse in Connecticut. Vincent didn't go--something about not wantingto push his luck--but a good time apparently was had by all.
I certainly can't imagine anyone being frightened by Jacob. Atfortysomething, Vincent's looks can certainly be consideredintimidating, but at three and four they're nothing short ofcharming. Jacob has his Father's face, and hair, but his mother'sgreen eyes. That combination is likely to be quite devastating towomen when he's older. Heaven knows it's devastating enough now,considering the effect he has on Jenny and Helen (and every womanBelow, the Tunnels assure me). He may look like his parents, but insome ways he's the spiritual offspring of Mouse. Even at his tenderage, he's fascinated by how things are put together. Unfortuntely heis even more fascinated by how they come apart, as I have learned thehard way. My downstairs bathroom may never be the same.
Vincent was so worried about the pain a child like him mightsuffer, but so far Jay-Jay (that's what his sister calls him) is arelentlessly happy child. No doubt pain will come, but I don't thinkit will affect him quite the way it has his father. He's old enoughto notice that his sister gets to go places he doesn't, but Vincentmakes sure it works both ways. He gets to go to his "special places"in the lower tunnels with Daddy.
Caroline has both Daddy's eyes and hair but her mother's face.She's quieter than her brother (most people are) and quite aware ofbeing the "big sister," if only by ten minutes. She and Mommy havetheir special times going to the Park, or somewhere else Above, butshe always insists on bringing back something for Jay-Jay. Of course,she's been known to forget that later and the two of them have hadmany a knock-down-drag-out over whatever it is until various adultsupervisors rush in to pry them apart. The first time it happened,Vincent was terrified that Jacob would hurt Caroline, but that'snever happened.
Perhaps it's because, whatever Vincent is, Jacob's only half that.He's certainly large and strong for his age, but he may never havethe remarkable strength of his father. Perhaps it's because Carolineand Jacob have some version of the bond their parents share. Vincenthas had a bond with his children from the moment they were born,although at first it told him little but hungry/sleepy/full/wet.Catherine and Vincent have had many a late-night conversation withinmy walls about just what kinds of bonds this remarkable little familyshares. Catherine seems to be more attuned to Vincent's feelingsevery year, but she can't tell if it's their bond becoming more of atwo-way street, or just the familiarity that comes with time andintimacy. She certainly has a bond with her children, but more thanany other mother? It's hard to tell.
In my humble opinion, based on over a century's observance ofhuman behavior, those two children have a bond between them at leastas remarkable as that between their parents. And unlike them, they'venever known a life without that; it's as natural a condition to themas breathing. What must it be like, to have never been alone, even inyour mother's womb? No, Jacob will never hurt Caroline. Jacob willnever wonder who his parents were, and why he was abandoned. Jacoband Caroline will grow up, Architect willing, with two lovingparents, and an extended family the like of which we seldom see thesedays. They will be very different people from their parents. I canhardly wait to see what they become.
Among other things, they'll grow up with their Uncle Joe around.Catherine has agonized for years about telling Joe the full story.More than once she's come very close, but always held back fromgiving him that burden. Even before he became Bureau Chief, Catherinewas always worried about dividing his loyalties between the letter ofthe law and its spirit. From past conversations between Catherine andVincent, it seems clear that there are a number of ticking time bombsin the form of unsolved cases reposing in the files of theNYPD--cases that Joe would no doubt solve instantly the moment Joesaw Vincent. I don't think Catherine really wondered what Joe wouldchoose, given a choice between his friendship for her and his oath touphold the law--but she never could bring herself to put him into aposition that would require him to make that choice.
As it turned out, Joe put himself in that position. After years ofwondering, and never asking Catherine questions she wouldn't answer,and driving himself crazy, the poor man finally cracked. Catherinehad been visiting her old haunts at the DA's office to get somebackground on a case she was researching for the legal aidcooperative. Joe was about to approach her to ask her out to lunch,when suddenly she grabbed her throat, got a panicked look on herface, and ran from the room. Without thinking, Joe followed. He keptfollowing when she ducked into the building across the alley, and ranthrough the basement and into the subbasement, and into theTunnels.
Catherine is usually scrupulous about Tunnel entrances, but shewas so frantic with worry about Vincent that she didn't close itproperly behind her. I got this part of it from the Tunnels later.The sentries were quite chagrined that Joe got through as far as hedid, but everyone was so concerned about Vincent they weren't asalert as they should have been. I think some people thought he hadbeen killed, at least at first. He was helping to close off a sectionof the Tunnels that had become unstable when the ground just fellaway from under him. When Vincent landed at the bottom of the hole,he wasn't moving and no one could tell for sure if he was evenbreathing, until Mouse scrabbled down after him (it took some doingto get him to wait for the rope).
By this time I suspect that even if Joe was having secondthoughts, he didn't dare lose sight of Catherine for fear he'd belost Below forever. Catherine knows those Tunnels now like a native,but a stranger would become disoriented quickly. The sentries spottedJoe just after Catherine reached Vincent--soon enough to keep himfrom getting a good look, but much too late for easy explanations. Bythis time, Eric had figured out that Vincent's only injury was abroken arm. He hadn't hit his head, but there was a pocket of carbondioxide at the bottom of the hole concentrated enough for Vincent tolose consciousness. Catherine was really angry at Joe, and told himso in no uncertain terms. She must have been rather frightening (ofcourse she was still worried about Vincent) because he promised toallow himself to be escorted out by the sentries and wait until shecalled him.
Well, the great revelation came in my living room. Catherinereminded Joe that he'd once told her that whatever it was, he couldget her out of it, and that he was about to find out what "it"was...but she had no intention of getting out of it. If he felt hecouldn't keep her secret, that would be the last he, or anyone, eversaw of her. I quailed at that. I couldn't bear the thought of losingthem all forever, but I know Catherine. She'd go away to the deepest,darkest Tunnel to keep her family safe. The ways would change, andchange again, and no one would ever find them, even if the Tunnelcommunity were destroyed. I know that would break her heart, aftertrying so hard to make a normal life for Vincent and their children.And it would break mine, because I would never see them again.
First she told him that Caroline had a brother. That surprised himwell enough, since she'd kept that from him for over four years. Thenshe introduced Jacob. Joe was taken aback, to put it mildly, but heloves children and didn't let his astonishment show too much in frontof the boy. After a little conversation, Catherine announced it wastime for him to meet Caroline and Jacob's father.
When Vincent stepped into the room holding Caroline's hand, thelook on Joe's face was almost comical. It all would have been quiteamusing if this man didn't have the power to destroy our future.Everyone stood around like statues. Sometimes I think they'd all bestanding there yetif Caroline hadn't run over to give her "Uncle Joe"a hug. That broke the ice, although the tension in the room was sothick I could feel it.
I saw Joe stare at Vincent's hands for a moment, and his face toldall. I'm sure he was mentally reviewing all those files with the oddforensic evidence; all those files that had never quite added up,that remained unsolved. Suddenly, in Joe's mind at least, they weresolved. The children sensed that something was strange. They gatheredaround their father on the sofa, clambering on top of him despite hisbroken arm. Not yet four, and they clearly gave Joe the message, "ifyou want to hurt our Daddy you'll have to go through us first." Joekept looking from Vincent's clawed hands; to the gentle way hetreated the children, even when they jostled his arm; toCatherine.
Catherine sent the children upstairs, where Brooke was waiting toread them a story and otherwise distract them. Then Catherine andVincent proceeded to tell Joe everything. I had no idea...all thishappened before our time together. I'd guessed some of it, over theyears, from things said within my walls or heard from the Tunnels.But I'd never heard it all, in order, in such relentless detail.Neither Catherine nor Vincent dwell much on the time before I knewthem, and now I understand why. I'd had no idea how much they hadsuffered to reach their present happiness. Happiness which now couldbe destroyed in an instant.
When they finished, you could hear a pin drop. Joe stared into thefire, digesting what he had learned, making what had to be one of thehardest decisions of his life. Then he turned to Catherine and said,"Well, I never really wanted to be Mayor anyway. It'll be our secret,Kiddo."
Having the rather unconventional family we do does presentproblems at times. The big issue this year was whether or not to sendCaroline to school Above. She certainly would get an excellenteducation from her parents, and Father, and Jenny's husband Ben, andthe other Helpers and teachers Below. Unfortunately, the Tunnels arenot recognized as an educational institution by the State of NewYork. More's the pity. I think Catherine is reluctant to separateCaroline and Jacob at such an early age, although Vincent reminds herthat reality must be faced eventually. Even more, Catherine isconcerned at what Caroline might say. Many children have imaginaryfriends--I remember the Davies children certainly did--but Topsidersmight wonder at a child with an entire imaginary community, not tomention a rather unusual imaginary brother and father.
Caroline is quite mature for her age, but she's still only five.It's not easy to explain to a five-year-old why the most importantpart of her life has to be a secret from the world at large. At leastit's not easy to explain without frightening the child; making hersuspicious and wary before her time--destroying her preciousinnocence.
So Catherine and Vincent finally decided that, at least until shewas older, Caroline would be taught at home. (If I could have cheeredat this point, I would have. I settled for making the radiatorwhistle.) That left the problem of finding a teacher. New York israther strict about homeschooling; it has to be done by a qualifiedteacher. Ben would have liked to, but he teaches at the high schoollevel. Besides, between his full-time job teaching Above, andteaching the Tunnel children science, and wanting to spend time withJenny and little Rachel, he just doesn't have time.
Then Catherine thought of Paul Hancock. He is a qualifiedelementary school teacher and loves the work, although he hardlyneeds the money. He's of the same social stratum as Catherine, andenjoys the fruits of some very impressive trust funds. Back in thedays when Catherine was working full-time and had to deal withobligatory social functions, Paul was her regular "date." All he knewwas that she was secretely married. He never asked her why it had tobe such a secret, but has been a good friend for years. His owndomestic situation, while not precisely a secret, was not one he wasparticularly interested in announcing to the school board, so he andCatherine have had a mutually beneficial arrangement of longstanding. Since he's blond and blue-eyed, I suspect there areacquaintances of Catherine's who are quite sure he's Caroline'sfather.
Now you might think a house of my vintage would disapprove of whatone might call unconventional domestic arrangements, but you would bewrong. Remember, I was inhabited by a theatrical family for manyyears. Among Edna and Richard's friends I observed a variety of humanrelationships that would astound you. Quite clearly, the quality ofthose relationships had little to do with the age, sex, color,religion, nationality, political affiliation, or whatever of theparticipants. It seemed to have more to do with the individualpersonalities involved. Besides, I have never judged people by any ofthose rather superficial characteristics. Would you judge a house bythe color of its paint rather than the soundness of its structure?Preposterous. There is only one criterion by which people should bejudged--how well do they take care of their house?
By that criterion Paul, and his "domestic partner" Carl--excellentphrase, that, with impressive linguistic derivation--are persons ofthe highest quality. They have restored a neglected brownstone in theVillage to pristine condition. There is no more admirable task ahuman can undertake. On one visit they showed Catherine a scrapbookof the restoration project, and I was deeply moved. But Idigress.
Paul was happy to teach Caroline, no questions asked. Vincent wasready to tell him the whole story, but Catherine convinced him to"play it by ear." She's afraid the shock would be too great forFather, so soon after that incident with Joe. Although that hasworked out quite nicely. I think Joe is so happy to know Catherine'ssecret at last, he's not too concerned about what it actually turnedout to be. He's been sharing his mother's Italian recipes withWilliam, and the Tunnels tell me the community is delighted with theresults. Personally, I think Father is tough as a granite doorstep.He's only in his seventies, after all, and not mellowing a great dealthat I can tell.
Year Twenty-Nine
What a lovely wedding it was. Or I should say, weddings. I'm soglad Caroline decided to hold one here as well as Below. It was aninteresting example of the differences between generations thatCatherine and Vincent were fussing about not being able to have awedding that included everybody, when Caroline shrugged and said, "sowe'll have two." Pretty much all of Catherine's old friends have beenlet into the secret over the years, but John's parents don't know.Since they live in Seattle John didn't think it was necessary at thispoint. He has every confidence in their discretion, but Father stillworries about these things. One doesn't wish to agitate an old manwho's almost 100, after all. Father's quite pleased with himself atbeing around to see his granddaughter married. Peter said for yearsthat Jacob (Jacob the Elder, that is) was just too ornery to die.
Alas, Peter wasn't quite ornery enough. Catherine still misseshim. In many ways he stepped into her father's shoes. Edna's gone nowtoo, although she lived to a ripe old age. Catherine often talks toEdna's children and grandchildren. I was thrilled when we got thevideophone, and now the holo, so I could see them again. To thinkwhen I was built the telephone was a new invention!
Another reason an Above wedding was necessary, of course, was toaccomodate Caroline's and John's friends. Between medical school andthe hospital there's quite a few, and John's colleagues from theuniversity and all. I'm still not sure what a nanotech engineer is,but John seems to be a good one. Mouse had a wonderful time talkingto all those engineers, although I wonder what they made of him? It'sstill hard for me to think of Mouse as a grown man with children ofhis own. Fortunately for him, Jamie had no trouble imagining it.
So Caroline's father gave her away Below, and her mother did thehonors Above. What a wonderful feeling it was, to be filled withpeople celebrating such a joyous occasion. John and young Jacob andMouse even rigged up a holo projector so Vincent and Jacob could seethe Above ceremony. It must be very strange for Jacob, living apartfrom his sister for the first time. He's promised Caroline he won't"listen in" on her honeymoon. She promised to practice surgery onhim, sans anesthesia, if he tried. Fortunately, she seems to have nodesire to live anywhere but New York. What with holophones and theNet and all, people don't seem to travel as much as they used to. Ofcourse when they do, they're just as likely to go to Tokyo as NewJersey, or even Luna Prime. Caroline laughs when Catherine worriesabout her lack of wanderlust, and says she doesn't anticipate NewYork running out of sick people anytime soon, so why travel? Whyindeed, when the world you grew up in is as exotic as any you mightfind in the world outside. I've spent almost 120 years rooted to thisspot, and I defy anyone to say they've had a more interesting lifethan mine.
I'll miss having Caroline here all the time, but I look forward toseeing her children some day. Catherine and Vincent asgrandparents--it seems like only yesterday that extremely vigorousyoung couple spent their first night under my roof. Now Vincent hasas much silver hair as gold, and more and deeper lines on hisremarkable face. Catherine's hair is pure white, but those eyes areas green as ever, and that chin as determined. And thet both remainextremely vigorous for their age. For a couple quite a bit younger,if the truth be told. That bed Catherine bought almost thirty yearsago must be extremely well made.
As I watched and listened to all the guests millingaround--laughing, talking, eating, dancing, filling all my rooms withhappiness--I got quite emotional about the last few decades. Ithought how I had been well and truly blessed to have sheltered suchpeople all these years. Those of my kind toil ceaselessly to giveshelter and protection to humankind, and seldom are appreciated forour efforts. Ignored at best, maltreated at worst. Rare are those whosee us for what we are. That day I felt that all I had done had allbeen worth it, even if I toiled unknown to those within in me.
Then gradually all the revelers went away except the family.Carolyn and John changed into their traveling clothes, ready to leavefor their honeymoon. Jacob and Vincent emerged to say their finalgoodbyes to their sister and daughter as she left to start a newlife. Then Jacob and Vincent went into my inner rooms while John tooktheir bags to the taxi. Catherine gave her daughter one last tearfulhug. And then--and then--even now I am so moved I barely thinkit--Caroline stopped on my front steps and looked back at my facade,at my sturdy stones and gleaming windows. Smiling, she placed herhand tenderly upon the polished wood of my front door.
"Thank you," she said.
"Excerpts from a Diary" © 1997by Edith L. Crowe
Comments & questions to ecrowe1228@aol.com
First published in Sanctuary 2(Spring, 1997)
About the Author: Edith Crowe is anacademic librarian who has been involved in various fandoms (startingwith Star Trek) since 1972. Beauty and the Beast,however, is the one she's most emotional about and the first (and sofar only) one to inspire her to write fiction. She had seven"continuing classic" stories published in the late 80s and early 90s,in zines now out of print. New stories include the rather racy "MyFurry Valentine" in the A Kingdom by the Sea conzine andseveral in issues of Sanctuary.