Nile Shadows

always used to say I'd be a recognized painter by the time I was fifty.

Little Alice looked down at her lap.

But it didn't work out that way, she added in a quiet voice.

Alice has crippled hands, said Belle softly. Arthritis. It happened years ago. It was very unfair.

Oh well, murmured Alice, we can't have everything. And there's always a reason why something should be so, rather than otherwise. At least that's what I've always told myself.

She smiled. A bright smile.

I'm a dreamer, she said, Belle's right about that too. When I was little I used to get up early and go out and run through the fields to feel the wind in my hair, and then I'd climb a tree somewhere to spy on people. But I wasn't spying on them really, it was just that I liked to look over walls. I hate walls, I've always hated walls. So I used to climb trees so there'd be no walls, and I'd look down into people's yards and make up stories about what they were doing. When I went out for my run Belle would still be in bed, but then when I got back she would be sitting on the front porch, reading a book. Belle was always reading as a child. She will be bookish, Mother used to say. She will be stubborn and not go out and play like other children. You always had your nose in a book then, didn't you, dear? And I could never understand it. I always wanted to be out running and exploring and living like a gypsy, and I could never understand how someone could just sit around all day and read.

Belle wrinkled her nose. She sniffed contentedly.

You silly. What do you think reading is? I could go all over the world in books.

History books, said Alice. You always read history. And when I came back from my morning run we'd sit on the porch and Mother would bring us cookies and milk, and I'd tell you all the things I'd seen, and you'd say I'd made them up. And then you'd tell me some stories from your history books, and I'd say you'd made them up.

Alice laughed.

What a pair we were. So very different from the very beginning.

Yes, murmured Belle. Uncle George always used to say that. He used to say he could never believe we were twins, we were so different.

And on rainy afternoons, said Alice, you'd bring the brown stool in from the front room and put it next to the kitchen table, and you'd climb up there and pretend you were an empress sitting on your throne, remember? A great empress of all the somethings, and I would be your lady-in-waiting and bring your jewels.

Did you mind? asked Belle.

Oh no, I loved it. Especially when you asked for your crown and I brought it in on a cushion the way you said, and I waited in the doorway until all your ministers had taken their places and you told me to advance, and in I marched in front of all of them, very carefully because I was always afraid I might trip, and I stepped up on the stool and the moment had come at last, and I put the crown on your head. Oh I was so proud then. And later when court was dismissed we'd go into the bedroom and you'd drape me with scarves in front of the mirror, and I'd dance. I wonder why I always imagined Cleopatra wore scarves and danced?

I don't know, said Belle. Perhaps you saw a picture somewhere. But dancing in scarves is nice and you were so pretty.

Oh no, not pretty.

But you were. You were a beautiful little dream in gossamer veils, and you just floated through the air.

No no, murmured Alice, I was just myself. But the books never claimed Cleopatra was pretty, did they?

They just said she was charming and had a lightness about her, and that's what always appealed to me, the lightness, the light. Any fool can be born with a pretty face. That's nothing.

Abruptly, Belle's hands went still above her knitting. She was staring down at the floor and Alice noticed it at once.

What is it, dear? Is your side bothering you again?

No, it's not that. I was thinking about the little brown stool and climbing up to sit on the kitchen table, to play at being the great empress of all the somethings, nearly ninety years ago now. How foolish it seems.

The empress of what, I ask you? Our little front porch?

Belle's face was sad. She stared at the floor.

Well you were, said Alice softly. You were, you know.

I was what, dear?

The empress of our front porch. For me, you were.

Well, murmured Belle. Well. That's something, I guess.

And it is, said Alice, it is something too. I've never been so proud in all my life as when the time came to enter the court with your crown and all the ministers bowed low, and I walked in holding the cushion high, so afraid I'd trip, and you smiled at me, Belle, right there in front of everybody. And it made me feel wonderful inside and suddenly I knew I wouldn't trip and everything was going to be all right.

It was the proudest moment of my life, whispered Little Alice, and it always will be. Always.

***

When three or four clocks in the parlor struck the hour, Belle excused herself to take some medicine. As soon as she had left the room Alice came over to sit beside Joe. She put her hand on his arm.

Tip your head, please? I want to whisper.

Joe did so.

It's about my sister. I know she seems grouchy sometimes but she doesn't really mean it, it's just that she's in such terrible pain. First she broke one hip and then she broke the other, and there were all these operations when they put in plates and wires and I don't know what, and the doctors said she'd never walk again because nothing's supposed to heal at our age. But they didn't know Belle, did they? When Belle's determined to do something she just sets her jaw and goes ahead and does it. It doesn't matter who says it can't be done, she just does it. Belle will refuse to listen to others, Mother used to say. She will just get that look on her face and do exactly what she wants to.

Little Alice smiled warmly.

Even Uncle George, the poor dear, used to say the same thing. Well after she had all those operations, Belle decided she was going to walk again. And she went on trying and trying with her lips tight and her jaw set, and finally she did it. The doctors said it was a miracle but I knew it was just Belle being herself.

Belle likes to pretend, you see, that she doesn't believe in miracles. She likes to think she's too rational for things like that.

Little Alice laughed merrily, then turned serious.

So she learned to walk again, and soon after that she had a stroke. That's what you notice about her left side, she's partly paralyzed. Usually I get her medicine for her, but tonight she didn't want me to because you're here, I could tell. And that's why I let her bring you your whiskey and pour my sherry, because I could tell she wanted so much to do it. Belle's proud that way. She wants to keep up appearances.

I just thought you should know, added Little Alice. So you wouldn't think badly of her.

I could never do that, said Joe.

And she was always so talented, continued Little Alice. Everyone admired her for it. She used to write beautiful stories in French and Russian which she'd learned mostly on her own, from books, because she's so clever with languages. And comedies that were witty and subtle and made you laugh and laugh long after you'd finished them. Belle was going to be a writer, you see, and I was going to be a painter.

Privately, we always had those dreams, just between the two of us.

Little Alice looked down at her hands.

Those particular dreams didn't work out for either of us. But there were other things to compensate, and Belle has never stopped writing. The work that has come to mean the most to her is a history of the life of Alexander the Great, for children, which she has worked on for years and years. She's completed three or four volumes but she hasn't gotten to the end yet, and it's all told simply and directly so that a child can understand it and appreciate the great accomplishments. Not the military victories so much as the journeys to strange lands and all the strange peoples Alexander met, so children can appreciate what it means to try hard and live your own life.