PATRICIA MATTHEWS - At the bottom of the garden

Mandy came to a dead stop on the pathway, as she caught sight of the little man seated upon the low stone wall at the bottom of the garden. She knew — in a flash of insight — exactly what he was.

Admittedly, he was larger than she might have imagined; however, he was much smaller than most grown men, and she had already come to terms with the fact that things in real life did not always look exactly like their counterparts in pictures.

It was the little man’s clothing that made her certain. He was dressed in tight dark green trousers, and his white shirt was exactly like the ones worn by princes in picture books — full sleeves tight at the wrist, and the vee at the neck tied with a lace. Over the shirt he wore a pale yellow vest, with large shiny buttons.

Overwhelmed, she stared at him, her finger in her mouth. He was very pretty: with a narrow, clever face; bright, blue eyes; and a thatch of curls as golden as her own. She looked at his ears, but could not see their tops, which were hidden by his hair.

He smiled at her — very kindly — and said in a soft voice: “Well, what have we here; What a pretty little lady. Do you have a name, little lady;”

The way he spoke his words was strange — it sounded to Mandy like “lit’l liedy” — but she understood, and was suffused by a warm surge of pleasure.

Taking her finger out of her mouth, she returned his smile.

“Amanda Armisted.” She pronounced it carefully, then added, “Mandy.”

The little man’s smile widened. “Well, Mandy, I’m very pleased to meet you. My name’s Elf Hampton, and you may call me Elf.”

Mandy nodded; of course it would be something like that.

“And how old are you, Miss Mandy?”

“Five.” She held up her right hand, fingers and thumb spread. “But I’m almost six.”

He nodded gravely. “Well, that’s an excellent age to be. I used to be five myself, once — but that was a very long time ago.”

Mandy nodded. It would have to be, wouldn’t it? Inside her narrow chest, she could feel her heart pounding with excitement. She realized how privileged she was to be talking to one of them; to be having him discuss such things with her.

“You’re part of the new family in the gate house, I take it.”

Mandy nodded, pointing up the slope to the red brick house near the main road.

“It’s a pretty little place, isn’t it?” Elf said, just as he might say to a grown-up.

She straightened, smoothed down her dress, and cleared her throat. Her voice, when it came out, sounded squeaky. “Yes. Do you live here, in the garden?”

Elf’s eyes twinkled, and his smile widened. “Well, no, not exactly. I live over there, in the gardener’s cottage.”

Mandy’s gaze followed the direction of his pointing finger to the small cottage on the other side of the garden, and felt that her pleasure might overcome her. Shingled, chimnied, surrounded by flowers, it was an Enchanted Cottage to the last detail.

She took a deep breath. “It’s beautiful,” she said, clasping her small hands before her chest. “Just like the dwarf’s cottage in Snow White!”

Elf laughed. “If you were a bit older, I might think that was a reference to my height, but now that you mention it, you’re right. Would you like to see the inside?”

She paused for a moment, her glance going to the gate house. Her mother and Uncle Ted had been asleep when she had sneaked out of the house; and, if things went as usual, they could be counted on to sleep for at least some time longer.

She smiled and nodded; but Elf had seen her hesitation. “Perhaps you should check with your mother first. I’ll go with you, if you like.”

Mandy felt panic, like a cold wave, rise through her body. She shook her head fiercely, afraid of losing this chance. Her mother, at the best of times, was unpredictable; and was usually in bad temper in the early morning.

“No,” Mandy said firmly. “Suzie is still asleep.” And then, although she knew that it was in all likelihood a lie, “She won’t mind.”

She studied Elf’s face. He looked doubtful, but then smiled.

“All right then. Just for a few minutes. You can make a longer visit at another time.”

Mandy’s face could hardly contain her smile. She watched with pleasure as Elf — very gracefully — jumped down from the wall. As he took her hand in his, he frowned slightly, and raised her arm. She saw his eyes darken. She pulled her arm down, but she knew he had seen it — the ugly purple bruise just below where her short sleeve ended. She felt embarrassed that he had seen the flaw.

“It’s all right,” he said gently. “How did it happen?”

She looked away. “I fell down. I’m clumsy sometimes.”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, we’re all clumsy sometimes, I suppose. Well, let’s get on to the cottage.”

The path to the cottage wound through the thickest part of the garden, among the prettiest flowers; and at one point, when she sought to leave the path to examine a particularly attractive stand of hollyhocks, Elf pulled her back.

“No, no. Not there, love, there’s an old well there, and I haven’t yet seen to filling it in. The cover is old; but now that you’re here, I’ll get a good cover on it straight away. Until then, you must stay away from it. All right?”

Mandy nodded. She could see it now, the stones all fallen away. It looked like an old, round door into the ground. She nodded, happy to do what Elf told her, wanting him to see how good she could be.

They were nearing the cottage now, and Mandy was skipping with excitement. She could see white curtains at the windows, and smoke coming from the stone chimney. Elf’s hand was warm and gentle around her own; and she felt protected, comforted, and happy.

Inside, the little house reminded her of Mrs. Turner’s apartment. Mrs. Turner had lived next door to Mandy and her mother in the city, and the elderly woman had been Mandy’s sitter when her mother went out. This meant that Mandy and Mrs. Turner had spent a great deal of time together, and had grown very close. Mrs. Turner had wonderful things in her apartment, especially the books. Some of them had full-page colored pictures of another world, a world that was magical and beautiful, where everything — even if scary things sometimes happened — turned out all right. Mandy liked to think of Mrs. Turner as her grandmother — she had none of her own — and Mrs. Turner, whose children and grandchildren lived far away, had seemed pleased.

Mandy had cried when her mother told her they were moving again, to live in the country with the new uncle, Uncle Ted. From experience, she knew that Mrs. Turner and the comfort she provided would be lost to her. Mrs. Turner had given her a book of poems as a going-away present, and it was Mandy’s most prized possession.

“Well, how do you like it?” Elf was smiling down at her.

She nodded, eyes wide. “It’s beautiful!” she said truthfully. “You have doilies,” She pointed to the little lace cloths that adorned the arms of the sofa and the plump chairs.

Elf laughed. “Imagine, she knows what doilies are. What a clever girl.”

Mandy laughed too. Happiness fizzed in her like soda-pop bubbles. “Mrs. Turner told me.”

She turned, taking it all in: the paintings; the silver, the ivory carvings, and china wonders in the tall glass and wood cabinet — she must look at them closer — the beautiful rugs.

“Harry! Oh, Harry, we have company!” Elf was calling. Curious, she turned to see another man come through an inner doorway. He was a bit taller than Elf, and appeared older. He had a jolly round face, pink cheeks, and a soft brown beard. He was dressed in soft tan trousers, cream colored shirt, and wide brown suspenders. He looked very much, she thought, like Santa Claus, only younger. He was accompanied by a small brown and white dog, with a pushed-in face and bright eyes. Mandy could not suppress an exclamation of delight. She had always wanted a dog, but because of “circumstances” had never been allowed to have one.

Then, embarrassed, Mandy looked up at the man shyly. He, in turn, seemed surprised to see her.

“Well then, Alf, who’s this? One of the renters?”

Elf nodded. “The youngest, I believe. Mandy, by name.”

Harry — that must be his name — came over to Mandy and squatted down by her side. He smelled of cinnamon and shaving lotion, and his eyes were twinkly and, like Elf’s, kind.

“Very glad to make your acquaintance, Miss Mandy.”

He held out a nice-looking square hand, and Mandy, without hesitation put hers into it. He shook it firmly.

“And this is Buster.” He looked down at the little dog, who was sitting quietly, as if waiting to be introduced. “Now, would you like to join All and me for some cocoa and a cinnamon bun? They’re fresh out of the oven.”

Mandy nodded gratefully, noticing that she was, suddenly, very hungry.

“So where have you been?” her mother said crossly, pushing a strand of red hair out of her eyes. “I’ve told you and told you that I don’t want you running around outside while I’m asleep.”

Mandy hung her head, and made her voice docile. Long ago she had learned that it was the best way to deflect her mother’s bad humor. “I’m sorry. But I woke up early, and it was so pretty out. I wanted to see the garden.”

Her mother gave a sniff, and turned to the large, heavy-bodied man seated opposite her at the breakfast table. “She’s obsessed with gardens. It’s all because that old woman who lived next door has filled her head with stories from those damned books of hers; fairies, and princesses, dragons, magic gardens — a lot of nonsense!”

She turned back to Mandy, who kept her eyes carefully on her plate. “You might as well learn now that it’s all a bunch of crap! The real world is what you have to live in; and you might as well know that from the beginning. There isn’t any magic. No elves. No fairies.”

“Did you get into anything you shouldn’t, in the garden I mean?”

Mandy thought quickly. Did her mother know about Elf and Harry and the cottage? Could she, as a grown-up, see them?

“You didn’t bother the owners, did you? I don’t want you bothering the owners.”

Mandy frowned. The owners?Could her mother mean Elf and Harry? And what did they own?

“The people in the cottage,” her mother said crossly. “Have you been bothering them?”

Mandy felt familiar panic rising. How much was it safe to say, to tell?

“I met Elf,” she said, finally, “and Harry, too.”

“Elf and Harry?” Her mother, thin eyebrows climbing her forehead, looked at Uncle Ted, who put down the paper, an unpleasant smile on his full-lipped mouth.

He let out a loud laugh that made Mandy jump. “She means Alfred Hampton and his ‘friend’ Harry, our landlords.”

He leaned forward, his heavy arms on the table, and Mandy drew back. She didn’t like Uncle Ted very much. He was too big, too loud, and he pushed at people. She didn’t think he liked her very much either. She was very surprised that he knew about Elf and Harry, that he could see them; but perhaps he saw them differently. Perhaps, to grown-ups, they seemed to be regular people. The idea seemed plausible.

“So you met the neighbors, huh?”

Hesitantly, Mandy nodded.

“And what did you think of them?”

Emboldened by his interest, Mandy said, “I think they’re very nice. They let me look at their house.”

Mandy’s mother slapped the table with her hand. “You went into their house? Haven’t I told you a hundred times not to go anywhere with strangers, particularly men? Do you want to get hurt?”

Uncle Ted laughed again. “Don’t sweat it, Suzie. You don’t have to worry about those two.”

Suzie stared at him. “What do you mean?”

He grinned. “They’re —” he glanced over at Mandy, and she knew that meant he was going to say something that he didn’t want her to understand — “a little light in their loafers, if you know what I mean.”

Suzie frowned. “Well, you didn’t tell me that.”

Uncle Ted seemed to be enjoying himself, and Mandy couldn’t understand why. What was he talking about? It didn’t make sense.

“The place belongs to Hampton; he inherited from his grandmother.” He chuckled. “The locals say that the old woman was real strange. The kids around here still call her ‘The Witch Lady.’ It must run in the family; Hampton’s a weird little duck. Lived all his life in England somewhere, but came over here when the old girl kicked off. They say that the property used to be quite a showplace, till the big house burned down. Acres and acres. Now there’s just the gate house and the gardener’s house, though I gather the old lady left some money as well, and Hampton makes a little renting out this house. He’s a writer of some kind … kid’s books I think. I don’t know if the other one does anything. Probably just keeps house.”

He snickered. “Wait till you see the way they dress. And Hampton has this sissy English accent. Sweetest little thing you ever saw. Almost as sweet as you!”

He reached out and grabbed one of Suzie’s breasts. Mandy looked away. She didn’t at all like the way this conversation was going. She didn’t understand it, but she knew that Uncle Ted was talking bad about Elf and Harry. She could see and feel the meanness in him.

“Not in front of the kid,” her mother was saying, but she always said that, even when one of the uncles was doing things to her in front of Mandy; and Mandy knew that this was the signal for her to go out to play, or go to her room and look at her books.

“May I be excused,” she said, and Uncle Ted grunted, and she got up from the table and went outside where she wouldn’t hear all the noise that they were going to make. She wanted to think about Elf and Harry and the Enchanted Cottage. She wanted to pretend that she lived there, with Elf and Harry and Buster, and all the pretty things, where it was cozy and warm and safe, and smelled of cinnamon.

*

“Now watch, sweet thing,” Elf said, dexterously taking the web of string from between Mandy’s fingers with his own. “You take it like this, and it makes another pattern, another design. Do you see?”

Mandy nodded. Elf was teaching her to play Cat’s Cradle, and she liked it a lot, particularly when he told her that the patterns that the string made were very old and very magical.

Suzie and Uncle Ted were gone for the day, and Elf and Harry were looking after her. The last few weeks had been wonderful. She had seen, or visited, Elf and Harry almost every day. When Suzie had found out how much the two men liked Mandy, and that they were only too happy to have her company, she had quickly taken advantage of that fact. The only cloud that threatened to mar Mandy’s sky was the nagging thought that all this would end; that one day, out of the blue, her mother would tell her that they were leaving, moving on. There would be a new uncle, and a new place to live, and she would never see Elf and Harry again.

But now, here on the sunny porch of the cottage, she did not think of that, but only of the wonderful pattern that she held in her fingers, and of how happy she was.

Elf patted her head. “Now that’s enough for today. Why don’t you play a bit of ball with Buster while I help Harry fix our lunch?”

Mandy nodded, and reluctantly relaxed the Cat’s Cradle, and slipped the string from her fingers. Buster sat watching her, his dark eyes bright with expectancy.

She threw the ball for Buster to retrieve until she got tired and hot; then she and Buster went round to the back of the cottage where the grape arbor offered a cool retreat, and where she could pick some mint from the patch by the back door and rub it between her fingers until she smelled all cool and sweet.

As she squatted beside the mint patch, the voices of Elf and Harry came through the kitchen window. She listened to them lazily, thinking that the rise and fall of their voices sounded like an odd sort of music.

“Sometimes it’s all I can do not to hit the woman … ” That was Harry.

“I mean she’s unfit to have a child! From what I gather, there’s been one man after another since the father ran off; no stability at all. It appears that there’s no other family, no grandparents or aunts or real uncles. Mandy’s such a sweet child. What will happen to her?”

“I know, Harry.” That was Elf. “I feel the same. You’ve seen the bruises. I don’t know if it’s the mother, or the man — they’re both heavy drinkers— but somebody is abusing that child. She always says that she’s fallen; but she won’t meet your eye when she says it. Poor little tyke. I wish that she was ours, Harry. I’d like to have a child.”

Harry’s voice was all soft now. “So would I, Alf, you know that.”

Both voices grew too soft to hear, and Mandy sat very quietly, thinking over what she had heard. She had thought that she would feel bad if anyone ever knew about the bad times with Suzie; but now, somehow, she didn’t; she only felt relief that these two, whom she had come to love, knew, and that they understood.

It was already growing dark, and Mandy was playing Go Fish with Harry and Elf, when Uncle Ted and Suzie returned. She could hear the roar as Uncle Ted’s big car raced up to the gate house, and stopped with a squeal of tires and brakes.

Mandy saw Elf and Harry exchange glances. They didn’t approve. The warm glow she had felt all day began to ebb, as apprehension took its place. The sound the car made was an angry sound, and that meant that Uncle Ted was angry; and if Uncle Ted was angry, then her mother would be too.

Harry got up and went to the window. “They’ve gone inside,” he said, “but I don’t think we should take Mandy back just yet.”

Elf look ed up, an d nodded. “They will come for her when they want her.”

Mandy felt her spirits rise. “Is there time for cocoa?” she asked. The sound of shouting carried from the gate house through the open window.

“There certainly is,” said Elf, as Harry shut the window, and turned on the radio.

In the morning, Mandy awoke to the sound of birds singing, and the smell of something baking. Buster was lying on the bed by her side. She lay looking at the pattern the sunlight made on the wall. She felt warm and safe.

Wishes were answered, she thought, despite what Suzie said. All evening she had wished that her mother would not come after her, and she had not. Maybe, if she kept wishing …

Breakfast, in the sunny breakfast nook, was strawberries and cream and banana-nut muffins and tea. Mandy was allowed a small amount of tea diluted with a large amount of milk and some sugar. It tasted good.

Happily, she gazed at Elf and Harry, loving the way they looked — so kind and handsome — and how they smiled at her. It was just like her dreams.

But after breakfast the dream ended with a loud knock on the front door, which Harry answered. Mandy was seated on the sofa with Elf and Buster, where Elf had been reading to her from her book of poems and stories.

Mandy thought her mother looked terrible, all blotchy-faced and red-eyed, and her hair not combed. Mandy was embarrassed to have Elf and Harry see her that way.

A cigarette hung from the corner of Suzie’s mouth, and her dressing gown didn’t quite cover her soiled slip. She stood hip-shot in the doorway, peering into the dimness.

“Where’s the kid?” she said.

Harry stood back to let her in. “She’s right here. Come in.”

Suzie exhaled a cloud of smoke. “I don’t suppose you have a cup of coffee handy? Or better yet a shot of booze?”

“I’ll make you a cup of coffee,” said Harry. “Sit down.” He left the room.

Mandy sat quietly, the book in her lap forgotten.

“You didn’t come after her, so we put her to bed in the spare room,” said Elf, his voice noncommittal.

“Yeah. Thanks. Ted and I had a row last night. When I got up, the bastard was gone! Took all his clothes and everything. Said he wasn’t coming back. I don’t know what the hell he expects me to do!”

“I’m sorry,” said Elf, still in that same quiet voice. “The rent on the gate house is paid till the end of next month, if that is of any help.”

Suzie crushed out the cigarette in an antique saucer. “Yeah, for what it’s worth; but where in the hell am I supposed to go then? And how am I supposed to look for something else, stuck way out here in the tules. That son of a bitch!”

“Well, we’ll be glad to do what we can to help. We’ve become very fond of Mandy, you know.”

Suzie gave him a cold look. “Yeah, I know, though I’m not sure why. She’s one of the reasons that Ted left; he couldn’t stand her always whining around underfoot.”

Mandy felt her face grow hot with the injustice of it. She wasn’t always whining, or underfoot, for that matter. She stayed out of way as much as she could.

At that moment Harry came back with the coffee. Suzie took the proffered cup greedily, without a thank you. Elf, Mandy, Buster, and Harry watched disapprovingly as she drank it.

Mandy was crying as she knocked at the cottage door. Her arm hurt, and her face, where the hairbrush had struck her, was hot and burning.

Clutching her book, she knocked again, filled with a sudden fear. What if they were not home?

But in a moment she heard Buster barking, and Harry opened the door. He sucked in his breath with a loud hiss when he saw her, and immediately reached down to lift her into his arms.

“You poor baby,” he said, carrying her into the house. “What has she clone to you?”

She began to cry. She couldn’t help it. She laid her head against Harry’s shoulder. “Suzie’s sick,” she said, through her tears. “She’s on the floor, and she won’t get up. She was drinking that stuff!

“Shhh. Hush, darling. It’s all right.”

Mandy’s tears began to ebb, as she began to relax. She was so tired; it seemed as if she had not slept for days. Suzie had been acting crazy. It was that stuff, Mandy knew, that whiskey-stuff that did it. She had promised herself that when she grew up she would never touch it, never drink it. It made people crazy and bad, and she didn’t want to be that way.

She heard Elf come into the room; heard his whispered question, but did not raise her head. She was safe now. Now she could sleep.

She heard dimly: “What’s wrong? Is she all right?”

Harry’s voice rumbled in his chest, beneath her own chest: “I think so. She seems to be worn out. The drunken bitch hit her in the face, Alf! This has got to stop.”

“Well, put her down in the spare room.”

Movement: She felt herself laid down; covered; felt Buster jump up beside her — the warmth of his little body against her side.

“You look after her, Buster. I expect we’d better go up to the gate house and check on her mother.”

“I guess we’d better.”

The voices faded, and Mandy sank gratefully into sleep. During the night she floated now and then to near-wakefulness, there were sounds, like hammering, and voices; but in the safety of her warm nest, she barely noticed them, choosing instead to sink back down into the comfort of her dreams.

The morning was overcast, but Mandy didn’t care. She was with Elf and Harry, and she knew that they would take care of her.

Buster was gone from her side, and she wanted to see him, and her friends, so she got out of bed, still dressed in her blue dress and underthings — the dress wasn’t too clean, she saw — and her socks.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she padded out to the breakfast room, following the scent of something nice.

Elf and Harry were seated at the table. They smiled when they saw her, but she knew something was wrong.

Elf got up and lifted her into his arms. “Breakfast is almost ready; but I think you should have a good wash first, don’t you?”

Mandy nodded. Her eyes felt sticky, and her head itched.

When she was in the funny tub with the lion feet, surrounded with bubbles, feeling all clean and shining, Elf sat down on the toilet seat, and cleared his throat.

“I have something to tell you, Mandy.”

She nodded. She could tell from the way he spoke that it was something that he thought might upset her.

“Your mother seems to be gone. Harry and I went over to the gate house to check on her, and she wasn’t there. It seems that she packed a suitcase and left. She must have caught a ride from a car on the highway.”

He looked at her worriedly. “Now I don’t want you to be upset. I know that you don’t have other family, but Harry and I will look after you until your mother comes back. That’s if you want to stay with us.”

Mandy nodded, feeling an icy spot in her chest slowly begin to melt. She wasn’t upset at all. She felt like smiling. “She’s gone? And I can stay here, with you and Harry?”

Elf look relieved. “Yes, as long as you like.”

Mandy let the smile out until she felt it cover her whole face. “And I can be your little gift?”

He hesitated for only a moment, then, “I don’t see why not.”

Mandy frowned as a cold sliver of worry penetrated her happiness. “But is she really gone? Really and truly?”

He spread his hands. “Get yourself dried off and dressed, and you can see for yourself. I’ll be back in a minute.”

As Mandy dressed, prodded by apprehension, she heard Elf’s voice in the other room: “It’s best that she sees for herself, Harry. I don’t think it seems quite real to her yet. It’s sad, but she’s afraid that the woman is still here. We’ll look around for a bit, then have breakfast.”

Holding Elf’s hand in a tight grip, she went into the gate house. The house was silent and cold, and it smelled bad. Mandy didn’t want ever to see it again.

They went upstairs and down, through all the rooms, but her mother wasn’t there. Still, Mandy’s grip on Elf’s hand did not loosen.

“But she could be in the garden,” she said. And so they searched the garden, all the paths and nooks, and it was all the same as usual, all except for where the old well was; for Mandy now saw that it had a new cover, well fitted and strong tightly locked. Elf’s gaze followed hers. “I told you I would get that covered. Now you can play anywhere you like, and be safe.”

Mandy’s grip on Elf’s hand loosened. Suddenly, she felt light with relief and happiness. Her stomach growled. “I’m hungry,” she said.

Elf smiled, “So am I. Let’s get back to the cottage.” They turned back to the path, walking hand in hand, surrounded by flowers. It was a beautiful morning.

Mandy looked up at Elf. “After breakfast will you read to me?”

He nodded. “For a bit, then I must work for a while. What do you want me to read?”

“My favorite,” she said. “You know.”

“Of course,” he said, and, smiling, began to recite: “There are fairies at the bottom of our garden! It’s not so very, very far away … ”

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