Rabbit

by Sealie Scott.

"Robert."
"Mother."
"Well, where is he?"
"Sitting on the veranda."
Grace Robin Fraser looked through the porch door. A small figure sat with his blue hood pulled over his hair. His back was to the adults as he watched the barren snow covered land around. His heels were drumming against the step.
"He looks small."
"Caroline wasn't a tall....woman."
"Hmmmm." Grace Fraser did not carry a spare ounce of flesh - she was a compact and intense woman. Her arms crossed over her chest she regarded her only grandchild for the first time.
"So why did you bring him here?"
Robert pulled his Stetson from his head to cover his indecision as he searched for the right words. The whole journey from Regina to Tuktoyaktuk had been spent in silence as Robert Fraser desperately searched for some way to talk to his mother about her Grandson.
"Even if I hand in my notice with the RCMP I cannot leave immediately. I'm an important part of a major embezzlement sting. Two months and we'll put away some," Robert read his mother's expression, "bad people for a long time."
"And?" Grace hadn't taken her eyes from the child on the step.
"I might be able to get a instructor's post at the Depot in three months with the new induction. If you'd look after Benton until then..."
"Why don't you leave him with the Pinsents?" Grace asked emotionlessly.
"They are willing to take him." Robert joined his mother contemplating the little soul. "But they'll only have him if they can adopt him and I don't get to see him anymore."
The temperature in the kitchen dropped another ten degrees.
"You didn't approve of Caroline, " Robert continued, "and Caroline's parent's didn't approve of me."
"You married too young."
"We loved each other and there wasn't much time left to us," Robert countered. "Mother, it's water under the bridge. She's gone; Benton's here."
The mountie's face was dull and mask like. He had almost killed himself when his wife had finally slipped away. And he'd nearly joined her when depression claimed his soul. Only Benton wandering around an empty echoing house had drawn him back. The child hadn't spoke for three whole weeks after his mother had died. Then Robert Fraser realised the reason for his son's silence - nobody had spoken to him in all that time. A four year old had fed himself and clothed himself for what must have been, to him, a lifetime. Cheese and ham sandwiches for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Block of cheese after block of cheese had been carried from the cold store and every tin of ham in the pantry had been pried open by small fingers. Only the ham came in tins with ring pulls.
"It's three months, Mother. It's you or the Pinsents. I have my duty and responsibility to the RCMP. Then I will take my son back."
"Just like that?" Grace pursed her lips. "After six years you turn up on my doorstep and foist your son on me?"
"Your grandson." Robert said neutrally.
"Benton," Grace reflected, "you named him after your Grandfather."
"It suits him."
Grace Fraser's nostrils flared as she inhaled. She was evidently deep in thought. As if in response to her thoughts the child on the steps glanced over his shoulder in a surprisingly adult gesture. On stocky legs he clambered to his feet. The infinitely patient child probably would have waited until called but there was a cold wind whistling around the veranda. Clutching his favourite toy to his chest he responded to his father's expression and toddled to the door. Grandmother and Grandson studied each other through the mesh door. Robert held his breath, he couldn't force his mother to accept his son but he didn't want to spoil this embryonic moment by even breathing out of turn. Oozing resentment, Grace opened to door for her Grandson. Tentatively, Benton stepped over the threshold.
Enter - said the spider to the prey.
Dressed in an old baggy cut-down sweater of his father's he looked vulnerable and heartbreakingly lost.
"Pleased to meet you. I am your Grandmother."
Benton glanced at his father before answering. "Pleased to meet you, Grandmother."
"Well, he's a polite boy." Grace said over the top of her Grandson's head.
"Of course." Robert kept the hand which Benton had sunk his teeth into, just before being apprised of the trip to Tuktoyaktuk, firmly tucked in his pocket.
"Pinsent." Grace said cryptically. "You will of course be visiting."
Robert blinked at his mother's about face - throwing in the fact that the Pinsent's were willing to take in Benton must have made her change her mind.
"I'll be back at spring break."
"Good."
Seemingly he'd been dismissed. The estrangement caused by eloping with Caroline hadn't been healed. His mother was a woman of strong feelings held in check by pure force of will. It wouldn't be easy to gain forgiveness for what she saw as a betrayal.

"Benton." Robert dropped to his haunches. "I'm going now - it's a long drive. Your Grandmother will look after you until I come back."
The boy's lip trembled but he said nothing, finally accepting the inevitability of the separation.
"Does he possess any clothing?"
"I'll get them."
Holding back unfamiliar tears, Robert stood in a rapid motion and made a break for the station wagon. His son's little bag was only half full. Caroline had made most of his clothes. Benton had had a growth spurt and when she became ill, slowly wasting away, she'd had no energy to make her son's clothes. Robert rested his forehead on the cold metal of the roof. He wanted to scream. But yelling and screaming wouldn't solve anything and it would only upset his family. Composing himself, Robert returned to the kitchen. Both Grandmother and Grandson hadn't moved in the time it had taken him to get his son's belongings.
"I'll take it," she held out her hand with an imperious gesture.
Grace held the bag with disdain. Robert gave his mother a sharp, covert glance. Benton saw it any way - the child was as astute as an adult. His bright blue eyes were clouded as he watched the adults towering over him.
"Benton, you be good for your Grandmother."
He looks so small, Robert winced inwardly.
"Yes, Daddy."
He couldn't help himself, he dropped a peck on his son's head.

*

Benton stood at the door watching as the station wagon drove up the old muddy track. He waited until the vehicle turned out of sight. The lady, Daddy called Grandmother, stood above him. He was Daddy's Mummy.
"Why aren't you dead as well?" Benton asked.
"Excuse me?" Grandmother stepped backwards with a surprised look on her face.
"My Mummy's dead and you're my Daddy's Mummy."
"Your mother had a congenital heart problem it was inevitable that she would die. I do not have a heart problem."
Benton considered her words in his own inimitable way. "You promise?"
"Promise what?"
"You won't die?"
"I can't see it happening in the foreseeable future."
"Sooowy?"
"Benton." Grandmother held out her hand.
Benton took the proffered hand. She drew him out of the kitchen and into the rest of the house. It was larger than home, more woody and filled with lots of interesting breakable knickknacks. It felt smelt clean and fresh. He wasn't allowed to explore. Grandmother turned him towards the staircase. Laboriously, Benton climbed up the stairs beside his Grandmother.
"I am not ill; your mother was ill. Do you understand?"
"No." Benton yawned, he was tired.
"Rest assured I am not going to die."
Benton digested his Grandmother's words. "Promise?" he said eventually.
"Promise."
"Daddy told me that you should never break a promise."
"And he was right."
He was led into a warm, sun-bright room with a large dresser and a picture of a wolf on the wall in a big brown frame. The bed in the corner had a bright colourful quilt. Benton yawned another big yawn.
"Here," Grandmother wrestled him out of the big blue hooded sweater. In moments she had him down to his vest and underpants. Benton extricated his cuddly rabbit from his jumper. He wasn't too sure what was going to happen next.
Grandmother pulled back the quilt and patted the clean sheets.
"This was your Father's room. I think you need a nap before dinner."
"No." Benton protested - this he understood - nap time was for babies.
"No?" Grandmother's voice rose ominously.
Oh dear, he knew that tone of voice too.
Quiescently, Benton crept past his Grandmother and pulled himself up onto the big bed. The quilt was pulled over and tucked around him. The warmth lulled him to sleep.

*
Grace waited until her Grandson's breathing eased into deep sleep. Unsurprisingly he was exhausted by the long drive. The old grubby white rabbit was clasped in his arms. The left ear was hanging on by one thread. All in all it was a sad excuse for a toy. Without waking her Grandson she took the rabbit.

*

The house smelt different to home. Benton poked his head around the corner of his room. His stomach growled. Grandmother had not woken him in time for dinner. Food was not important - Rabbit was missing. He knew that he had had it when he fell asleep.
Where is Rabbit?
On short legs he ran down the hall to the top of the stairs and peered through the banister slats. There were no lights shining downstairs.
"Who's there?" called a quiet voice.
Another door off the corridor was ajar. Benton froze. he didn't know the rules but when he was a home he wasn't allowed to get up after going to bed.
"Come in," the order was unmistakable.
Benton obeyed.
A wizened old man sat in an armchair wrapped in a heavy blanket. The chair was angled so he could watch the rolling Arctic sea beyond the bedroom window.
"Well, hello."
"Hello, sir."
"And who are you?"
"Benton Fraser, sir."
"Really?"
"Oh yes, sir. I wouldn't lie." Benton piped up.
The gnarly man had a deep vibrant laugh. Benton had never before in his entire life seen such an old person. His face was all crinkly and, even in the moonlight, his skin was tanned and leathered. Benton looked into familiar bright blue eyes, he saw them in the mirror every time he brushed his teeth.

"Who's your Dad?"
Benton considered the question. "Daddy?" he ventured.
Another laugh. "What does your Mum call him?"
Benton's bottom lip trembled. "Darling," he sniffed loudly.
"What's the matter, son?"
"My mummy's dead!" tears flooded down his cheeks.
Benton allowed the old man haul him on to his lap. He was crying too hard to protest. A hand with stiff fingers gently stroked his hair until he was finished. The finger joints were all swollen. Benton wiped the salty tears from his eyes.
"Are you hands sore?" he asked innocently.
"Somewhat."
"I bit my Daddy's hand when he said I had to come and live with Grandmother. He smacked me." Benton sighed with the injustice of it all.
"Ah, you must be Robert's son. He called you Benton. That's my name."
"No, it's my name."
Even teeth shone in the old man's wide grin. "Perhaps we can share it?"
"Okay." Benton said agreeably.
"Is your Daddy here? It's been a long time since I saw my Grandson."
Benton shook his head. "He has to catch some nasty people who are embezzling."
"That's a big word for a little boy."
"I'm learnig to be a mounted policeman."
"Like your Daddy."
Benton nodded enthusiastically. "Are you a mountie?"
"No, I used to work on trawlers," he held up his popped joints by way of explanation.
Benton didn't see the connection.
"So my little Great-grandson what are you doing out of bed?"
Benton remembered his mission. Daddy would call it an investigation. He had to find Rabbit.
"Rabbit. I was looking for Rabbit."
"And who is Rabbit? I know, Rabbit is Rabbit."
Why are big people always silly?
"I had Rabbit when I went to sleep and Rabbit has gone."
"Toy Rabbit?" Great-grandfather ventured.
Benton nodded.
"Ah, maybe should ask my daughter-in-law. Your Grandmother..."
"Why would Grandmother take Rabbit?"
Great-grandfather shrugged. "She is your only suspect."
Susupect?
Benton wriggled off his Great-grandfather's lap. "I'll go ask Grandmother."
"No, no, no, no."
His shoulder was gently gripped "Grandmother is asleep - she won't be happy to be woken up. I think you should go back to bed."
"I can't sleep without Rabbit!" Benton wailed.
"Ssssh."
Benton wiped at his nose. "I want Rabbit."
"You can ask Grandmother in the morning. You can spend one night without Rabbit, can't you?
Rubbing his eyes, Benton stared distrustfully up at his Great-grandfather. "No."
Benton left the old man sitting in the chair ignoring his whispered protests. The corridor was dark and scary, the moonlight washed out the daylight colours. All the doors looked the same and he didn't know where Grandmother slept. Worst of all, the door handles were all above his head, even straining on his tiptoes he couldn't reach the knob.
Frustrated, Benton toddled down the steep stairs. The front room appeared impossibly large and the high book shelves loomed over the small boy. Hunting through the main room he couldn't find Rabbit anywhere. He was getting cold and hungry. Ever practical, Benton made his way to the kitchen and the refrigerator. The cheese was on the bottom shelf. Tearing off a hunk, Benton satisfied his hunger.
"Benton?" a voice hissed.
Cheese in one hand, handful of bread, on the other Benton crept to the bottom of the stair and peered upwards. The old man was clinging to the banister for dear life.
"Go to bed, son. You'll get into trouble if your Grandmother finds that you're out of bed."
Benton scampered part way up the stairs. "I haven't found Rabbit," he protested.
"Father?" another voice interrupted them.
Dressed in a hideous puce flannelette dressing gown, Grandmother joined them on the top of the stairs.
"Is everything....Oh."
Grandmother's expression was tight and angry. Benton hid the hunk of cheese behind his back.
"Bed!" she pointed towards the room.
"I want Rabbit."
Grandmother's brow furrowed - she just looked like Daddy before he doled out a sharp smack. Begrudgingly, Benton continued up the stairs.
"Let the boy have his toy Rabbit, Grace."
"No, it's disgusting. It needs a good wash in carbolic soap not to mention some needle and thread."
She caught a tender earlobe and propelled her Grandson before her. Benton dropped the cheese. He cast one despairing look over his shoulder at Great-grandfather as he was pushed into his bedroom
"Get to bed. You can have your toy after it been washed and repaired."
The door was firmly closed. Benton stood on the other side. The handle was too high he couldn't reach it.
Benton looked around the austere room.
I want my mummy.

fin.

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