Albert (Part III)

Tue, Jun 26. 2012

As Albert is inexplicably giving his sister the silent treatment, she is happy to open the door to their new neighbours, Raymond and Wendi. However, Raymond and Wendi’s sudden, bizarre behaviour makes her quickly attempt to close the door; but it is too late. She is greatly distressed as Raymond gains entry and begins shouting; she begins to recollect the events that took place the last time Albert was disturbed by noise.{{more}} This leads her to remember other things about her and Albert’s past. As such, she makes up her mind to get Raymond out of the house at all costs.

She was not unfamiliar with doing things no matter the cost. In fact, she had had a lot of practice. Her mother, Ruby, had not allowed her to renege on her vow. The day after Bertie’s thirteenth birthday, she and Ruby had been in the backyard yet again, this time in Ruby’s garden. Albert had not needed them. That was when the lessons took place. Ruby had spent the time she was not busy acquiescing to Albert’s every wish, teaching her daughter all about herbs. That had only been the beginning.

She caught up with Raymond just as he spun away from Bertie’s door. He could not go any further. His nose would not allow it, but his eyes had seen enough to confirm what he had already guessed. He desperately hoped that Wendi was getting help.

“That man is dead!” he shouted.

She reeled as Raymond’s words struck her. Albert was just sulking because she had not wheeled him into the garden as soon as he had asked, yesterday. He was accustomed to getting his every desire catered to immediately, but she had been dusting the ornaments. Albert did not understand that she had to keep the house clean for their father’s return. She had felt terrible afterwards and had tried to make it up to him, but he had refused to acknowledge her. He still knew how to hurt her, just as he had known how to hurt their mother.

Suddenly, officers and paramedics swarmed the small house. They tromped uncaringly over the worn carpet. Five of her mother’s ornaments crashed to the floor, and were ground beneath their boots.

“What are you doing?” she cried. Her eyes were wide and wild. She staggered towards the broken pieces. The carpet no longer felt familiar beneath her feet. She stumbled and fell to her knees. She looked as broken as the porcelain around her.

“Miss?” The voice went unheeded. “Miss, are you okay?” Someone was shaking her.

“Bertie?” She looked up from amidst the shards to see an unfamiliar face.

“No, I’m Detective Friday. Could you tell me how long he’s been dead?” The clear, lanky fellow pointed to two men in blue suits who were leaving the house with Bertie on a stretcher.

“Bertie!” She tried to get up. “What are you doing? Where are you going with Bertie?” she demanded; her voice had lost its soft lilt. She sounded shattered.

“Sir!” an officer called from the backyard. “You’re going to want to see this!”

Detective Friday gladly helped the old woman outside. Fresh air was necessary. The neighbours had already gathered. Everyone wanted to see. They had always known that there was something wrong with Ruby’s children, especially after Ruby had disappeared when Albert had gotten sick. The neighbours were sure she had gone to find Donald.

“What is it?” Detective Friday asked impatiently. He was weeks away from retirement and he could hardly wait. He firmly believed that there were more loonies out than in, and he had dealt with more than his share. It was time for them to be someone else’s problem.

“There’s something buried out here,” the officer answered excitedly. “The dogs found this.” He held up small, chipped porcelain. It looked like a faded replica of the ornaments inside the house.

“Start digging!” Detective Friday commanded.

She was softly keening at this point. They were ruining everything. She had made a promise. Did they not understand how hard she had worked to keep that promise? Did they not know how circumspectly she had had to give Albert the exact amount of the correct herb each day to make him unwell? Did they not know how after Ruby had died from heartbreak, she had had to bury her in the garden so that she would still be close to her Bertie?

“No! You can’t take them! You can’t separate them!” The volume of her voice surprised her. Decades of modulating her decibels to a pleasing level were forgotten. Her woeful cries went unheeded. She fell to her knees in utter desolation. Ruby was going to be separated from Bertie. She had failed to keep her promise. Now, she would never be loved.