The Lilac Tunnel: My Journey with Samantha

I crack open the door to make sure the coast is clear. I tiptoe down the hallway and pass Elsa’s room, willing the floorboards not to creak. The door is closed and the light is on. She must be inside. I make my way to the next staircase and stop on the landing, listening for sounds from Samantha’s bedroom. Nothing. As I tiptoe down the last staircase, I hear the clutter of dishes in the kitchen. The lingering scent of cinnamon and apples hits my nose. I can almost taste the tart that Grandmary’s guests had for dessert. Through a crack in the door, I see Mrs. Hawkins standing by the sink. On the table, there’s a loaf of sliced bread in a basket. Plain bread has never looked so delicious.

I hear Grandmary call Mrs. Hawkins from down the hall, and she hurries out of the kitchen. It’s now or never. I dart to the bread. I grab a couple of thick slices and take a big bite, savoring the taste for a moment, then tiptoe back to the stairs.

But before I can make my way up, I hear the quick steps of someone coming down. I stand there, frozen, watching the long skirts rounding the stairs above. Elsa.

I step backward into the kitchen, but it’s too late. Elsa follows me and demands an explanation, but I can’t speak. The bread is stuck in my throat. I can’t swallow it down, and I can’t spit it out. I can only stand there, looking guilty, as Elsa begins her rant. Mrs. Hawkins hurries back into the kitchen looking confused.

After Elsa lectures me about stealing food and disappointing orders, she just passes me and grabs a tea kettle from the stove. She starts to fill the kettle with water from the sink, as if to wash her hands of me.

Mrs. Hawkins catches me before I go back up the stairs and says that servants eat after all the others. She would’ve brought me some food, but now… she raises her hands helplessly at her sides.

Over Mrs. Hawkins’ shoulder, I see Samantha’s face in the hallway beyond the kitchen. She starts toward me, but Mrs. Hawkins stops her with a gentle shake of her head. Sadly, I begin my long ascent back to the tower room.

The next hour passes like days. Should I go home now? I finger my locket. Or can I make it till morning and say a proper goodbye to Samantha? I said goodbye to Stella only a few days ago and the thought of another goodbye makes me sad.

I lie on the bed of blankets, my stomach aching with hunger, when a sudden wave of homesickness hits me. If I were at my dad’s right now, I would have had dinner with my family, and then taken a hot shower or long bath. I would call my mom or Stella, and watch a movie before bed. But if I were really a wash girl in 1904, I couldn’t do a single one of those things. I curl into a ball, listening to the sounds of summer drifting through my window. Usually sounds like children laughing and dogs barking would make me happy. But tonight I just feel lonely. I close my eyes and imagine that one of the voices I hear is my little stepsister’s outside my bedroom door. I’m surprised by how much better that makes me feel.