That afternoon, Jaundice went to the garage to determine what mode of transportation they might use to pick up Aunt Shallot, and Kale continued with her cleaning.
When their parents left so suddenly on their errand of an unspecified nature so many years ago, they had taken the car. The garage was drafty and empty, with the exception of several stacks of flowerpots, an old sack of fertilizer, a bicycle with a flat tire, a rusty wheelbarrow, and a red wagon.
Right away, the bicycle was out, since neither Bland Sister knew how to ride one, let alone change a tire. The wheelbarrow seemed a bit clumsy to navigate and a bit inappropriate for picking up a guest from the train station, unless that guest happened to be of the botanical variety. It would have to be the red wagon, Jaundice decided, assessing it warily. Had it ever been used? She couldn't remember. The wagon was in nearly new shape, though it was not very large. Jaundice hoped that Aunt Shallot was on the smaller side.
While Jaundice wrangled the transportation, Kale finally finished rescrubbing the bathroom and set to work getting a bed ready. Unfortunately, the upstairs rooms were filled with boxes and trunks of their parents' things, which the Bland Sisters had packed away long ago. Even though Jaundice and Kale were sure their mother and father would return any day, it was much easier to keep the house clean without so many things lying around.
Kale managed to locate their parents' bed, though it was covered with boxes of books and documents and maps. Carefully, she piled all the boxes against the wall, next to the suitcases filled with their parents' clothes. After she was done, she assessed the bed. The sheets would definitely have to be washed, she decided.
"Sister?" Jaundice called from downstairs.
"Up here," replied Kale, as she heard her sister climbing the stairs.
"What are you doing?" asked Jaundice.
At this point, Jaundice had entered the room to find Kale stretched out on their parents' bed. One of the pillows was over her face.
"Just seeing if the bed is comfortable enough for Aunt Shallot," she said, her voice slightly muffled. "Also, I'm smelling this pillow."
"What does it smell like?" Jaundice asked.
"Like our mother, I think," said Kale. She handed the pillow to Jaundice, who stretched out next to her sister on the bed and gave it a whiff.
"Hmm," said Jaundice. "You might be right."
She took another pillow from behind her head and held it out to Kale. They sniffed it together.
"Is this what our father smelled like?" Kale wondered.
Jaundice shrugged. "I don't remember."
"There goes that ache again," Kale said, clutching her chest.
"I feel it, too," said Jaundice.
For a little while now, both sisters had been experiencing the same sensation, in the area where their hearts were beating. The ache was slightly painful, but also strangely comforting, which made it difficult to diagnose via their copy of the Dullsville Hospital Home Health Handbook.
"Well, even if we don't remember much about our parents, at least we know neither of them has an unpleasant odor. That's something," said Kale. "So, do you think Aunt Shallot is our mother's sister or our father's?"
"It's hard to say," said Jaundice. "What do you remember about her?"
Kale looked into the middle distance, as she usually did when she was thinking.
"Nothing," she said, finally.
"Me neither," said Jaundice.
"They say she'll be wearing one of her 'trademark hats,'" Kale said. "Maybe we can look out for someone with unusual headwear."
"Good idea," said Jaundice, yawning.
Kale yawned back. "I really should start washing these sheets. But this bed feels so … cozy."
"Maybe we should lie here for another minute or two, just to make sure it's truly comfortable enough for Aunt Shallot," Jaundice suggested.
"It's the very least we can do as hosts," Kale said, closing her eyes.
Within moments, the Bland Sisters were asleep. Kale dreamed that the house was a mess, but all she had to clean it with was her toilet-cleaning toothbrush. She did what she could to clear away her parents' maps and books and clothes and souvenirs, but there was just too much stuff.
Jaundice dreamed that a phone was ringing. She went to the kitchen phone to answer it, but there was no one on the other end. Still, somewhere in the house, the ringing continued.
Ring-ring! Ring-ring!
It sounded particularly urgent. And it seemed close, as if it were right under Jaundice's nose.
