The Lilac Tunnel: My Journey with Samantha

I tell Samantha that I’m sorry I scared her. When Samantha looks up, I’m surprised to see tears in her eyes. She says it’s not my fault. The lake…

Tears start to roll down her face. It’s a long time for Samantha to tell me what’s wrong, but finally she says that her parents drowned in that lake. Their boat got caught in a storm. When she saw me go under the water, she was afraid that she would lose me, too.

Samantha’s words hit me like a blow to the ribs. Now I understand why she was so scared when she saw me struggling in the water. I try to think of what to say or do. I remember how nice Samantha was when I told her I miss my mother. I want to be a good listener, too. I ask what Samantha’s parents were like. Does Grandmary tell her stories?

Samantha wipes her eyes and shakes her head and says Grandmary doesn’t talk about her parents. I think she misses them too much. But I say it helps to talk about the good memories. That’s something my mom says whenever I miss my dad. Samantha nods and says she thinks so, too. She smiles, but there’s a faraway look in her eyes. I wish there was more I could do for her.

The next morning, Samantha and I wake to raindrops. We hurry to the main house where the others are settled in the living room. A fire burns in the big fireplace, and the Admiral sits in the rocking chair to one side, napping with an open book on his chest. Grandmary is doing needle work in the rocker on the other side of the fireplace. Delicious smells waft from the kitchen, where Mrs. Hawkins is working hard. This is not a vacation for her.

I sink down on the couch besides Samantha and Cornelia. Uncle Gard lies on the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace, telling Grandmary about a play he and Cornelia saw in the city. He starts acting on a scene and then pauses to ask if Sam would like to play a game of charades. He jumps up and pretends his hands are bound behind his back and asks who he is. Samantha giggles and shouts that he’s Harry Houdini. Then, Samantha pretends to ride horseback while shooting a rifle at an imaginary target. Grandmary guesses Annie Oakley, which means she’s up next. Grandmary thinks for a minute, and then sets down her needlework. She lifts an invisible paintbrush and begins dabbing at an invisible canvas. After a few wrong guesses, Samantha says, Mary Cassatt.

I know who Houdini and Annie Oakley are, but I’ve never heard of Mary Cassatt. When I ask Samantha who she is, Samantha steps toward the bookshelf to show me a book of paintings. And then, I see a small oval picture frame. The teenage girl in the picture could be Samantha, her hair dark and her eyes pretty. I ask Samantha if that’s her mother. Samantha’s cheeks flush and she nods. Her name was Lydia.

I tell Samantha that she looks a lot like her mother, and a slow smile spreads across her face. Then, I risk another question. I ask what she was like. I know Samantha doesn’t remember her mother, so I’m really asking Grandmary. I risk a glance in her direction. Her needle is poised in the air, and her mouth is pursed. I wait, hoping she will talk to us.

Finally, Grandmary sets down her needlepoint. She says that Samantha’s mother was curious, happy, and generous. She was an artist who loved sketching and painting with watercolor and she loved long summer days here at Piney Point. Then, she adds that Lydia was very much like Samantha. I see tears in Samantha’s eyes. Grandmary sees them, too, and she crosses the room to sit beside Samantha. I excuse myself, saying I’ll go see what Miss Hawkins has cooking in the kitchen.

A short while later, Samantha finds me in the kitchen and gives me a hug. She shows me that Grandmary gave her something. It’s a golden brooch locket. When Samantha flips it open, I see two people: Lydia, all grown up, and a handsome dark-haired man with a neat beard. Samantha says it’s her father. Grandmary wants her to wear it to remember her parents.

I finger my own locket, dangling from my neck. Samantha notices and asks if I have pictures of my family. I shake my head and say not yet.

The next day, it’s time for me to go home. Hawkins helps me board the steamboat. The last image of Samantha is of her waving to me from the dock, her golden brooch sparkling in the sunlight. Grandmary is there too, her arm around Samantha’s shoulders.

I play with my locket. Which photos would I put in it, if I could open it and have time stand still? My mom’s, of course. And my dad’s. But then I think of my stepmother and remember that she said the locket helped her through a tough time. Something flutters in my chest, and I realize that maybe my stepmom had some adventures with this locket, too. Did she travel back in time and meet Samantha? When I get home, maybe I’ll ask my stepmom what she went through. She might not want to talk about it, or maybe she will. It’s good to talk about these things. I know that for certain now, and I hope Samantha, my new friend, does, too.