Maggies Diary

By Marion Leavens

Following the tragic death of a single mother, her daughter, Colleen, returns to the home from which her mother ran away as a pregnant teen. She hopes by returning, she can locate her father, whose identity has been hidden from her for all of her life. While there she finds a diary hidden away by her Aunt Maggie that opens up another mystery revolving around family secrets that could prove dangerous to the young girl. Will Colleen be safe in this unfriendly house? Will she discover the identity of her father? And what on earth happened to Aunt Maggie?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marion Leavens
• Release date: Jun 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311956699

Marion Leavens

Marion cannot remember a time when she did not write, poems, skits, short stories or essays. She was a writing tutor at St Lawrence College in Kingston, Ont where she learned to hone her craft. It was when the last of her four sons left home that she began her first novel. Soon after beginning with pen in hand, she got her first computer and has sailed on into the literary seas, adding novels to her list of accomplishments. She and her computer reside in Napanee, Ont and share space with her husband, Jim, three grandchildren, Fran, Rayne and Darius and two dogs..

Book preview

Chapter 1

Colleen watched with interest as a gray-haired lady in a faded print dress and nondescript brown coat slowly made her way up the bus aisle, followed by the young man with long, light brown hair and goatee who had entertained the passengers with his guitar during the tedious, seven hour, cross province bus trip. She wondered who or what had brought these two so-different people to this small town; the old woman exiting the bus with an expectant smile and the young man, with an air of resignation. Would they remain here in this backwoods town and if so, would she see either of them again? As she watched the guitar, hanging upside down from the young man’s shoulder, disappear through the open door of the bus station, she knew that she could put off her departure from the safety and familiarity of the bus no longer. With her purse over her shoulder and her coat folded over her arm, she stepped down onto the platform under the faded sign, which read ‘Dunn’s Mills’. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, looking around curiously at this place that her mother had left eighteen years earlier. Three buses were lined up diagonally beside the brick and clapboard depot that looked as old and tired as Colleen felt right now, despite her young age. This was the town where she planned to spend the next year, living in the same house where her mother had grown up and attending her last year of high school at the school where her mother had gone so many years ago.

The bus driver had just removed her battered blue suitcase from the storage compartment under the bus and was reaching for the new brown one as she stepped up to take them from him. She found a little comfort from the two suitcases, for they took her thoughts back to Belleville and the life she had left behind her there. She suspected that the blue case was probably the one her mother had carried with her when she caught the bus that carried away from Dunn’s Mills and her life here. The new brown one had been a gift from her mother’s best friend, who had been such a help and comfort to Colleen as she tried to adjust to life without her mother. Now, with a suitcase in each hand, she took another deep breath, squared her shoulders and with head held high, walked into the bus station to meet her aunt and begin this new phase of life.

She looked around at the other people in the brightly lit room and saw the gray-haired lady surrounded by a young family. Good, she thought, A real family. I’m glad. The young man was standing at the pay phone, looking through the phone book that was chained to the wall, while a heavy-set ticket agent sat behind the ticket counter, puzzling over the crossword puzzle in the back of the daily newspaper. Only one other person sat there in the waiting room, looking questioningly in her direction. She was dressed in a gray pantsuit with crisp white blouse, and no nonsense flat, black shoes. Her hair had more gray in it than brown and the touch of lipstick and rouge she wore did little to soften the plain features of the woman who rose to meet her. Colleen?

Yes. You must be Aunt Susan.

I am.

Susan had wondered about this girl for many years, especially since hearing from her two weeks ago. Now at last, here she stood. She studied the face of the girl standing before her, pleased that she could see a resemblance between her and the sister who Susan hadn’t seen for so many years, although the differences were also noticeable. Colleen was not as delicate as her mother had been and she was a few inches taller. Susan guessed that she stood about five feet, six or seven inches tall, compared to her mother’s five foot four. She was slender as a willow, like her mother, but her lips were fuller, her smile wider and her nose long and straight. The eyes looking at her were her sister’s, the vivid blue an exact match and the lost, frightened look the same. Her hair, too, was a match to that of her mother; long, dark and slightly curled. She was dressed comfortably in jeans and a blue sweater and carried a gray jacket over her arm. Around her neck hung a gold locket and small gold hoops hung from her ears. She looks pleasant enough, Susan decided.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between the woman and her seventeen year old niece as their eyes met, then quickly moved away. They were both unsure of how they should greet one another. An affectionate hug seemed out of the question, as this was the first time they had ever seen one another and until two weeks ago, they had never spoken. The only connection between the two was Janice, whose presence might have made this awkward meeting easier but whose loss was the only reason they were meeting at all.

The untimely death of Colleen’s mother had come as a dreadful shock, for no-one could ever have guessed that a woman so young would be taken from the daughter who was her whole life. It had been an ordinary morning, with Colleen and her mother bustling around the little apartment, getting ready for school and work, followed by a quick peck on the cheek and a wave as they parted in front of the apartment, Colleen turning right to walk the six blocks to the high school and Janice turning left to walk eight blocks to the dentist’s office where she worked as a dental assistant. Less than fifteen minutes later, Colleen’s mother, Janice Baker, had been struck and killed by a speeding car that had run a red light as the driver tried to sponge spilled coffee from his pant leg.

Colleen had no other family and the sudden loss of her mother was almost more of a shock than she could deal with. She felt lost and totally adrift without Janice and was terrified of the thought of a future without her mother’s love and guidance. She feared being alone, especially in the apartment where she had once felt so safe and happy. More than anything, she couldn’t face the thought of staying in the apartment alone and was grateful to her mother’s best friend, Enid Richards, for taking her back to her apartment for a time until she could decide what to do with her life. Enid had remained by her side through those next few days and helped her make the funeral arrangements, choose the clothes Janice would be buried in and meet with friends and colleagues who gathered to pay their respects to the small, dark-haired woman who had lived so quietly and raised her daughter with such courage and dignity. Being a single mother had not been easy for Janice and yet not one of her friends or acquaintances could recall having heard a word of complaint. For this alone, they had respect and admiration for her and they knew that in one way or another she would be missed by each of them. Although Janice had mentioned having two older sisters; Susan, who was five years older and Maggie, who was three and who had run away the year before Janice had left home, Colleen had no idea where they lived or how she could contact them. It seemed that when Janice had turned away from her family, the break had been complete. Even in death, the life she had lived before coming to Belleville was so far distant that it couldn’t reach out and touch the new life she had built here.

A few days after the funeral, Colleen realized that she could delay the inevitable no longer. She had to make some decisions for the immediate future and she turned to Enid for help and advice. It was impossible for her to remain with her mother’s friend, as Enid’s mother, who just shortly before had suffered a stroke, was being released from hospital into her daughter’s care and the tiny two-bedroom apartment couldn’t accommodate three people. There didn’t appear to be many options and the two women began to look for a room where Colleen could stay while she finished school. Fortunately, Janice had a small insurance policy through work, although the funeral home would need most of that money when it came, and Colleen would have to be very frugal with what would remain. They had to close up the apartment, for Colleen couldn’t afford to stay there alone and unless they vacated quickly, there would be another month’s rent to pay. Enid went with her to help sort and pack the contents of the apartment. It was a heartbreaking job, for everything in the apartment was tied to the life she had lived with her mother and Colleen thought that her heart would break as she sorted and made plans to dispose of the things that she wouldn’t be able to keep. Enid had room to store some boxes in her storage compartment but the furniture and most of the dishes and linens they decided would be sold at auction. As they packed, the worry of where Colleen would go was in the back of both their minds for at seventeen years of age, with almost a full year of Grade 12 before her, they knew that she would have a difficult time living alone. Enid felt as though she was failing her friend by not giving the young girl a home but she had no options.

They were cleaning Janice’s closet when they discovered a shoebox filled with keepsakes and important papers. They found hand-knit pink booties and bonnet, a tiny hospital ID band marked ‘Baby Baker’, an envelope containing the teeth that ‘the Tooth Fairy’ had paid for, a box from a jewelers that might have once held a necklace but which now contained a dried rose and some small white dried flowers, and a small pile of papers. Sorting through the papers, they discovered the printed program from Colleen’s eighth grade graduation, her long sought-after birth certificate and an envelope with ‘Colleen’ written on it in Janice’s handwriting. Colleen opened the envelope, took out the enclosed piece of paper, read what was written on it and handed it wordlessly to Enid.

‘Dear Colleen; If you are reading this, I expect that something has happened to me. If so, my darling girl, always remember the good times we shared and remember that I loved you more than anything or anyone else in my entire life. I know that you will have times when you will be lonesome and filled with sorrow but I want most of your days to be happy. In time, Colleen, try to remember me with a smile and have a happy life. And remember that although I may be gone from your sight, I’ll be watching over you and wishing you happiness. Remember to always work hard and be honest and things will work out for the best for you. You need to know that you have an Aunt Susan Baker in Dunn’s Mills where I grew up. If you need her, she will help you if she possibly can. You can trust her. Her name is Susan Baker, RR # 2, Dunns Mills, Ontario K9G 1D0. Her phone number is 613-897-2573. I believe that she still lives in the house where she and I and our other sister Maggie grew up. Don’t hesitate to call if you need her. You have always been the best daughter any mother could have hoped for. I love you, Colleen, always and forever. Mom"

Enid looked up into the questioning eyes of the young girl. What do you think, Colleen?

I wonder if this is the answer. Do you think Mom would want me to go to Dunn’s Mills to finish high school?

Perhaps. This letter seems too good to be true. It could be the solution.

Mom says that I can count on my aunt. I guess I should at least call her and see if she can help me. If nothing else, I need to tell her about Mom’s death.

I think you are right. Why don’t you call her tonight and see what she thinks.

She had called later that evening and now here she stood in Dunn’s Mills, in the same bus station where her mother had bought a ticket and boarded a bus to take her away from her home and family, meeting for the first time the sister that her mother had not seen for the past eighteen years. The uncomfortable silence was finally broken when Susan spoke, Here, let me carry one of those. The car is just outside.

Colleen handed the smaller blue case to her aunt, tucked a loose tendril of dark brown hair into her ponytail and followed her out of the station. They put the two suitcases and Colleen’s coat in the back seat of the car and silently began the drive to the old house on Brimley Road where Susan, Janice and Maggie had grown up.

About five miles out of town, they turned down a dirt road and there, in the distance, Colleen got her first sight of the house where her mother had spent her childhood. Susan spoke the only words that broke the silence on that trip from town, There it is.

Colleen absently fingered her locket as, with a great sense of curiosity, she studied the house. It was a large house, a story and a half tall, with two gable windows, and a one story addition that appeared to have been added at some later time to the original house. It had an unkempt look with the original part needing a coat of paint, the much whiter addition making that need appear even more obvious. The roof was black and the front door and window frames were a dark forest green. There was very little front lawn as the driveway cut across the front of the house and turned in to the garage, which stood on the left side of the house. She learned later that it had been built as a wood shed and was converted to a garage when a new oil furnace had been installed. Across the driveway and on both sides of the road coming in toward the house were plowed fields, that had yielded oats just a month before to the farmer who rented the farmland from Susan. Behind the house was a row of tall pine trees and beyond that was a hardwood forest. A small garden spot had been cleared to the right and behind it stood a small shed. An old deserted barn was to the left of the house beyond the garage and barely visible behind it stood two other sheds that were in terrible disrepair and should have been torn down long ago.

Susan stopped the car in front of the addition and the two got out and retrieved the suitcases from the back, then climbed the steps of the porch and entered the door that opened into the old farm kitchen. Colleen was consumed with curiosity, Is this what the house was like when my mother lived here?

Yes, I haven’t had any money for renovations. It’s been like this as long as I can remember. I put in a new furnace about fourteen years ago and got the roof re-done six years ago. Except for that, it’s just the same.

There was a window beside the door on the right and the sink was under it, with the cupboards extending from the sink, around the corner and down the wall to another door leading into the dining room. On the other side of the room was the stove, fridge and a table with four chairs around it. A door at the back of the room led to a large pantry and through the open door Colleen could see another door that she learned later opened to the cellar stairs. Everything looked old. Colleen could well believe that nothing had changed since her mother had eaten at this table and washed dishes at this sink with her sisters such a long time ago.

Her reverie was broken by her aunt’s voice. I’ll show you to your room.

They went through the door into the dining room where Colleen found a large rectangular table covered with a lace tablecloth, eight chairs around it, and a china cabinet with a beautiful, shiny silver tea service perched on top. A door at the back of the room stood open and revealed a small bedroom. Another door, across the room from the one they had just entered, led to the living room, which contained a faded brown sofa and matching chair, a floral patterned rocker and an old upright piano. At the back of the living room were two more doors, one that stood open and through which Colleen spotted a sewing machine, and the other that opened to a stairwell going upstairs to a hallway that ran across the back of the house, and from which three bedrooms opened. She followed her aunt down the hall to the far room where Susan opened the door. Well, this is it.

Colleen looked into the room and turned to her aunt. Thank you, Aunt Susan. The room looks nice. And I appreciate you taking me in.

Well, we are family. Families stick together. She turned and in moments was gone.

Alone in the bedroom, Colleen laid her suitcases on the bed and sat down beside them to try to get a ‘feel’ for the room. She wondered if, by some chance, this had been her mother’s bedroom. The faded wallpaper that covered all four walls looked like it belonged to another age with eight inch wide, pale green latticework running floor to ceiling about twelve inches apart and with roses woven onto it. It would certainly have been on this wall during the years that her mother had lived in this house. The floral patterned linoleum on the floor also looked as though it had been here for a long, long time. The double bed was cornerwise in the room, with a light clipped onto the metal headboard. Near the foot of the bed sat an inviting, comfortable looking brown rocking chair with roses painted across the headrest and a rose patterned cushion on the seat. A small table sat beside it and a very large, heavy dresser with eight drawers dominated one wall. Next to it, a small window, framed by a lacy curtain, looked out onto the backyard. Spying a door across the room from the dresser, she rose and opened it to find a large closet that was empty except for a row of nine hooks fastened about two feet apart all around the walls.

I feel just about as empty as that closet, she decided, Boy, this place sure doesn’t make a very good first impression. I guess I might as well unpack though. This silent, unfriendly place is home now. I’ll have to make the best of it until I finish school and leave. If it was as cold and quiet as this when Mom was young, it’s no wonder she ran away.

Chapter 2

It was at dinner that evening that Colleen met her great-uncle, Vince Wrightman, for the first time. As a matter of fact, this was the first time that she had even heard of his existence. Although her mother had spoken occasionally about her family she had never mentioned an Uncle Vince, nor had Susan, either on the telephone when they spoke or in the car on the trip back from the bus terminal. Colleen’s curiosity was peaked, Have you always lived here, Uncle Vince?

Nope.

Have you been here very long?

Yep, long time.

Were you here when my mother was here?

Yep.

Aunt Susan spoke up, Uncle Vince is my mother’s brother. They grew up on a farm just down the road a bit, but he left when he was eighteen and went to work on the railroad. You were gone a little over twenty years weren’t you?

When it became apparent that he was not going to answer, she continued, He came back shortly after Dad’s death to help Mom, when I was fifteen years old, and has been here ever since.

How old would my mother have been at that time?

I guess Janice would have been eight and Maggie nine.

I can’t picture Mom as a little girl. I always wished that I could have seen a snapshot of her but she didn’t have any. Do you have any of her when she was little?

We weren’t much for taking pictures but I think I can find a few. After the dishes are washed up I’ll get them.

Thanks, Aunt Susan. I wouldn’t mind doing the dishes. I did them at home most evenings. I’ll need you to show me where to put them away though.

Later that evening, the two women sat together at the table in the kitchen with an envelope of snapshots between them. As Susan had said, there weren’t many. The images captured on them appeared to be those of an unhappy family, consisting of mother and three daughters, who seemed ill at ease with one another. There were no smiles, no loving or fun moments captured by the camera. In none of the pictures was anyone hugging a sister or their mother, in fact, not one of the people pictured looked at or touched anyone else. The images were frozen in loneliness. Colleen looked into the sad face of the little girl who would grow up to be her mother and was filled with deep sorrow for this child.

Susan broke the silence, Janice was a pretty little thing but she was so quiet. She was almost like a shadow in this house. Now, Maggie was a different story. Maggie always seemed to be ready to burst, as though she was filled too full with ideas, enthusiasm and excitement to keep it all in. She didn’t often let it out but you could always sense it. It was like she had some kind of energy about her. Strange girl! She ran off you know. One night in November of 1976, she just disappeared.

Has she never called or written or anything?

Not a word. Your mother left just about six months after Maggie did but it was different. Janice told Mother that she was going and then she called a couple of times. The last time was shortly after you were born. I can only imagine what a hard time she must have had, all alone with a baby, yet to have heard her talk you would never have guessed. She sounded happy.

We were happy. Colleen’s hand again sought the comfort of the locket hanging around her neck as she fought back the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. She was always smiling and was such a good Mom.

Susan reached across and patted her niece’s hand but seemed unable to form words of comfort. After a few moments she gathered up the pictures and held them out. Would you like to have these?

Yes. Thank you. Colleen took the pictures and got quickly to her feet. I think I’ll go to my room. All that had happened in the past few weeks and the changes that had occurred and changed her life so drastically suddenly overwhelmed her. She knew that she couldn’t hold back the tears much longer. The emotions that had boiled below the surface for the last few weeks were threatening to spill over, and she knew that she would soon fall to pieces and she wanted the safety and privacy of her own bedroom. She stumbled slightly as she hurried toward the stairs.

As she rushed through the dining room, she noticed that Uncle Vince had moved a chair into a position where he had been able to watch them as they looked at the pictures. The thought crossed her mind that perhaps he, too, was lonely in this cold house? Had he felt a need for human contact and wished that he could join them? If so, he hadn’t come forward but had remained alone on the sideline, merely watching. She hurried past him and climbed the stairs, managing to keep herself in control until at last she was able to shut the bedroom door and let the tears flow unchecked.

The room was dark and the clock showed the time to be 3:48 when she awoke. She lay there, wide-eyed and heart pounding, wondering what she had heard that had awakened her in a state of such fear. After a minute lying perfectly still, listening intently, she decided that she must have imagined it or been dreaming, for now there wasn’t so much as a sound. She closed her eyes and tried to relax and reclaim sleep. Almost instantly she heard the sound again. It was a loud creak and it seemed to be coming from just outside her door. That’s what it was, she thought, as she sat bolt upright in her bed, I knew I heard something.

Her heart pounded with fear as the minutes slowly passed while she sat there listening, but the sound wasn’t repeated. Finally, she reached up, turned on the little light on her headboard, and flung back the covers. Her only hope of going back to sleep would be to prove to herself that there was nothing at the door. She opened it and peered out into the hallway and as she expected, found nothing. Strange house, strange sounds, she decided. She shook off the eerie feeling that had enveloped her, got back into bed and reached for the book she had started reading on the long bus trip here. Reading didn’t seem to make her sleepy, so when she finished the chapter she had begun, she shut off the light, determined to ignore any sounds that might come from the house and after tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, she fell into a restless sleep.

After breakfast, Susan poured the last of the coffee into her mug and began to clear the table. Would you like to register at the high school today? I could drive you, if you want to go. Or if you’d rather take a few days to settle in first, that would be all right.

No, today is fine. I’ve already missed quite a bit of school. The sooner I get going the better.

Can you be ready in half an hour?

Sure.

Good.

Although she was nervous about going to a new school where she knew no one, she thought that getting out of the house would be a welcome relief. For some