Canterberry Tales by CP Hoff

Author:CP Hoff [Hoff, C. P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Crow Books

Chapter 17

The next time I saw Griggs she was in her kitchen ironing her husband a fresh plaid shirt. “We're not reading the scrapbook today,” she said.

“Why not?” I was rather disappointed. When Nan had been washing up the breakfast dishes, I had hand-lotioned the backs of my legs to prepare for her sticky, plastic-covered chesterfield.

She set the iron down. “I've only asked one thing of you, Celia Canterberry. One thing. From the day you were born to this one, mention my honeymoon hat in public.”

“I did.”

Old Lady Griggs spit on the iron and resumed her task. “And why have I not heard of it, pray tell?”

I shrugged. “Maybe Oswald Elliot didn't hear me. I'm sure he was lurking in the grocery store aisles. Thought I caught a glimpse of his plaid pants through the canned peas.”

“That's ridiculous. With ears that size, nothing could get past the boy.”

“Well, your honeymoon hat did. As for me, that hat has caused nothing but trouble.” That got me thinking. If anyone knew about what Nan didn't want me to know, it was Griggs. She was always sticking her bony nose where it didn't belong. “When Nan was a bride,” I said, as carefree as I could, “who bought her honeymoon hat?”

Griggs face went white, and without even thinking, she set the iron, flat on its tummy, in the middle of her husband's plaid shirt. It wasn't long before smoke billowed around its edges, steaming like it was ready to catch fire. “There are some things I don't have it in me to recall,” Griggs said when she finally lifted the iron, not seeming to care about the blackened triangle it left behind. She leaned over and brushed the hair out of my eyes. “The laundry can wait, let's mosey into the living room. There are some strips I've been meaning to show you.”

“I thought you said we weren't going to look at the scrapbook today.”

“Do you believe everything I say?”

“No.”

“Then why ask stupid questions?” Griggs plopped down on the plastic-covered chesterfield and I slithered up beside her, my lotioned legs like butter in a hot frying pan. She tapped a finger on the scrapbook cover. “You know, Celia, when I started showing you my creations, I had no idea I'd enjoy your company. Was only watching you as a favour. Over the years your Nan has done so much for me. She helped me with Mr. Griggs’s eyes, held his head while I sewed them on. No one else would've done that for me. I want you to remember that.”

“Now that you’ve told me, how could I forget? It's horrifying.”

“It was quite an evening. Oh, how we laughed.” Griggs’s lazy eye bobbed up and down as if it were reliving the whole thing.

“Did you sew on any other body parts?”

“Of course not. We're not barbarians.” She flipped open the scrapbook. “Have I shown you your first Easter?”

I shook my head.

“Well I suppose it wasn't your first, but it was the first time you came out to the Happy Valley Easter Eggstacular.

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