Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, Vol. 37, No. 6. Whole No. 211, June 1961

Jeraldine Davis Grownups Sure Are Funny

Number 21 in our series of “first stories”… It is the exception that proves the rule, and Jeraldine Davis’ “Grownups Sure Are Funny” is a case in point. Although the author's theme is a dangerous one, she handles it with remarkable delicacy — indeed, Mrs. Davis’ control of her material and the discipline of her writing are amazing in и “first story” Here is a newcomer with a perception and sensitivity that many old “pros” will envy…

Mrs. Davis is in her mid-thirties. She was graduated in 1947 from the University of Colorado where she majored in philosophy and English (always an excellent combination for would-be writers). At the time we accepted her “first story!” she was earning her livelihood by running a small secretarial service in Houston, Texas.

We predict a bright future for Jeraldine Davis — if only she continues to write…

I sat in the big leather chair in daddy’s study. He sat at daddy’s desk. He said he was a policeman, but he didn’t look like one. He didn’t have on a uniform or anything — you know, the kind with shiny buttons and stars. He wore a plain suit like daddy does. He was sort of thin like maybe he didn’t get enough to eat and he looked tired like he didn’t get too much sleep. His eyes were brown and sort of sad and he wore just a plain hat pushed to the back of his head.

He asked me my name which is Jenny and how old I am. I told him nine, but I’ll be ten next week. He asked me how I got along at school, and I told him I always go away to school but that I make very good grades, which is true and I am not just bragging.

He said to tell him all about myself. I started twisting one of my braids. I guess it’s because I get nervous and I didn’t know quite what to say. He looked at me for a minute, waiting, and then he said, “Do you remember when your mother had the accident in the car?”

That was a long time ago and I was away at school. Daddy told me that Mama had been hurt in a car accident and would never walk any more, that I must not ever bother her but try to help her. It made me sad to see Mama because she was so sad. I guess it was because she used to be a dancer and now she couldn’t dance any more.

When I first came home, Mama had a nurse, but she went away in a little while. I used to go in and see Mama, but when she wasn’t asleep she’d say, “Go away, Jenny. Go and play.” Sometimes I’d go for a walk with Midget, that’s my dog. And sometimes I’d go and look through daddy’s microscope — that one over by the window, but daddy said I shouldn’t play with his things. Mostly now, I play in the cellar.

The policeman listened, but he didn’t say anything. I like to talk to grownups but they hardly ever have time and I don’t believe they really listen. The policeman did though.

He said, “Tell me about the day your mama fell down the cellar steps. Tell me from the time you first got up.”

I started biting my fingernails. I always do when I am trying to think real hard, but the policeman didn’t say anything and I decided I sort of like him. Everybody I know scolds me when I bite my fingernails.

I remember it was Wednesday because it was Martha’s day off. Martha is our housekeeper. I went to my mother’s room. Daddy told me even if Mama said to just go away and play, I was to go in and see her every day. I didn’t knock because I thought maybe she was asleep. I just went in real quiet.

Mama wasn’t in bed. She was standing up by the window looking out. Her wheel chair was next to her bed. I guess I was real surprised because I knew Mama couldn’t walk. I couldn’t figure out how she had got over to the window. I thought at first she was mad at me, then she just said, “Come here, Jenny. Help me get back in bed. I’m tired now.”

She put her arm on my shoulder and leaned on me and got back in bed. I was really happy and wanted to tell Daddy, but she said I must promise and cross my heart that I wouldn’t tell anybody. She said she wanted to surprise daddy, and if I told, it would spoil the surprise. She told me to go and play like she always did and I went down to play in the cellar.

The policeman asked me what I played when I was down in the cellar. At first I didn’t want to tell, but then I remembered it wouldn’t make any difference to Mama now, so I told him.

Mostly, I take Mama’s dresses out of the trunk and put them on and dance. I pretend I’m a famous dancer like Mama used to be. I knew that if Mama ever caught me she’d be really mad. I didn’t see how she could though, not being able to come downstairs.

Anyway, I had on Mama’s dress and her shoes when the cellar door opened. I didn’t hear it open but you can tell because it’s in the kitchen floor and light comes down the steps. I hid behind Mama’s trunk and then I heard something fall. I looked on the floor and it was Mama.

Then I looked up and saw Uncle Allen’s foot.

I ran over to Mama and called her, but she wouldn’t wake up. I ran up the stairs because I was afraid, but the door was locked. I guess Uncle Allen locked it. I got sort of excited then because I noticed Mama’s eyes were open and sort of staring, but I knew she wasn’t awake.

I ran in the house and called daddy’s office. Judy — that’s daddy’s nurse — said he wasn’t there, but if it was important she’d tell him to call me. I hardly ever called daddy because I wasn’t allowed to. But I told Judy that Mama had fallen down the stairs.

“How did you get out of the cellar?” the policeman asked. “I thought you said the door was locked.”

“There’s a coal chute that’s kind of like a tunnel. If you lie on your back and push with your heels, you can wiggle up the tunnel, and the first thing you know you come out a little window.”

“Did your daddy come right away?”

“In a little while. I went upstairs and washed and changed my dress. I knew daddy would be mad if I was all dirty when he came home.”

The policeman swung back and forth in daddy’s chair and sometimes wrote with his pencil, then he said, “Tell me about your Uncle Allen.”

“He’s nice. He looks kind of like daddy. He’s tall and his hair is brown. Once he brought me a doll. He comes to see Mama every Wednesday. I think maybe he used to help Mama when she tried to walk. The first time he came, Mama cried and laughed and cried some more and hugged him. Then the next day daddy had some men come and put those funny things on the stairs so Mama could come downstairs in her wheel chair. She hardly ever came down though except when Uncle Allen came and sometimes he would push her out in the yard. Then Mama acted real happy. She told me I must not tell anybody about Uncle Allen. I know Mama liked him though because once I saw Uncle Allen put some of Mama’s things in his pocket.”

“What kind of things?”

“A necklace that she had and some bracelets and things.”

“The foot at the top of the stairs that day, are you sure it was Uncle Allen’s foot? Men’s shoes look an awful lot alike.”

I thought real hard. “No, I guess it could have been somebody else’s like daddy’s, though not yours because they’re too big.”

The policeman sat up straight then like I had said something real interesting. “Then you’re not sure it was your Uncle Allen?”

“Oh, yes. I know it was Uncle Allen. When the door slammed shut, it sort of blew the wind down and I could smell him. He doesn’t smell like daddy. He smells sort of like ladies do, you know, like he wears perfume or something.”

I was getting tired of talking and I hoped the policeman was through. He looked at me for a long time as though he was thinking, then he said I could go and play, but to tell Martha to come and see him.

I hate Martha. She’s mean and fat with little eyes like a pig. When I told her the policeman wanted her, she just sort of grunted and wiped her hands on her fat stomach like she always does. I waited until she went down the hall, then I lifted the trap door and went down into the cellar. I wanted to hear what the policeman said to Martha and all I had to do was sit real quiet by the furnace and their voices would come down the pipe. I heard some noise like the chair scraping and I could just see Martha dropping into one. She never sits down in a chair like other people do. She falls and then she huffs and puffs when she pulls herself back out.

He talked to her for a little while and then he told her what I had said. I sort of wished then that I hadn’t told him all the things I did, but I didn’t expect him to tell Martha. She said she didn’t know anything about any Uncle Allen and if that Jenny told you, don’t put any stock in it because she’s crazy. Then he asked her if she had ever seen the doll Uncle Allen gave me. Martha sort of snorted through her nose like she does all the time.

“You mean the doll she stole. Belonged to the little girl next door. Carol’s her name. She seen Jenny playin’ with it out in the yard and started kickin up a fuss. I told Jenny to give it back, but she wouldn’t. Said it was hers when I knew it wasn’t. Little Carol started to cry and Jenny like to beat that child to death with that doll. Terrible temper Jenny has sometimes. Told her daddy about it, but I don’t expect he said nothin’ to Jenny. Just gave me money to give the little girl.

“The doctor he don’t never say nothin’ to Jenny when she acts up the way she does. Queer Jenny is and her daddy ought to do somethin’ about it, but he don’t care what I have to put up with. He ain’t hardly ever here to see some of the things she does.

“Already give the doctor my notice. I ain’t gonna stay with Jenny no more. Mean she is. Plain mean. Stays down in the cellar all day playin with her mother’s things like they was hers. Ain’t no way to make her mind.”

The policeman didn’t know it, but Martha was on her favorite subject, which is me, and when she gets started yelling you can hardly make her stop.

She told the policeman about the time I killed her cat. She made it look worse than it was though because I just did it to prove to her that a cat doesn’t have nine lives like she tried to tell me it did. That’s the way Martha is. She never quite tells the truth like why you do something, just that you do it.

I wished I’d told him how she used to lock me in the cellar. She thought I couldn’t get out. So did I and I was afraid and cried until I found out about the coal chute. Then I started playing in the cellar all the time because I knew Martha was afraid to come down. She said there were rats down there. Once I found one. He was dead though. I sneaked in Martha’s room and put him in her bed. She really screamed and jumped up and down in her nightgown. Daddy finally had to give her some pills to make her be quiet.

The policeman started talking about Mama then. I guess he was tired of hearing Martha rave about me.

“Poor lady. Hardly ever even got in her wheel chair. Used to lie up in that room all the time not doin’ nothin’. Couldn’t even get her out in the sunshine after the doctor built that contraption on the stairs. Sure would have been a lot easier for me if she’d come downstairs. Traipsed up and down them steps a dozen times a day, I did, checkin' to see if she was all right. Jenny, she wouldn’t help nobody. Get down in that cellar and no amount of callin’ would make her come out again. Ain’t gonna stay here with that crazy little girl no more.”

No matter what Martha started talking about, she always ended up yelling about me. She was always saying she was going to leave, but she never did.

I heard her clomp down the hall into the kitchen. She lifted up the trap door and called. “Jenny, come up here and eat your dinner. I know you’re down there.” I didn’t even answer. I never did. Besides, I knew the policeman would talk to daddy and I wanted to hear what he said.

Daddy stayed in his room or in his study almost all the time since Mama fell down the stairs. I sort of wondered how he felt because once after Mama had her first accident, Judy came to stay to help take care of Mama. I was down in the cellar and I heard daddy say. “I can’t tell her now, Judith, not the way she is.” And Judy said, “What about me? What about our own lives?” — like it was real important.

“We’ll have to go on, Judith, just as we have been.” Daddy’s voice was sad like he felt sorry for Judy. Then I heard Judy begin to cry. Then I didn’t hear anything else.

Once I asked daddy if he liked Judy better than he did Mama or me, but he just looked at me for a long time and told me to go and play.

The policeman was talking to daddy now and then I heard myself talking, saying all the things I had said to the policeman. It took me a minute to figure out that it was coming from a recording machine and I wondered where the policeman had it and why he hadn’t told me about it. Then I heard Martha raving again and then it was the quiet.

Finally the policeman said, “We know your wife had no brother, and we know that no one has seen this Uncle Allen except the child. What we don’t know is whether or not it would have been possible for your wife to walk.”

“Medically, I would say, no. You can check that too, I suppose. A good many specialists saw Catherine. The opinions were always the same.” Daddy talked as if he were very tired and didn’t really feel like talking to the policeman at all. “Miracles happen, though. There are many cases that medical science can’t explain — impossible cases where—”

The policeman interrupted Daddy and said, “But you don’t believe she walked, do you?”

“No. But when Jenny told you her mother walked, it could have been so in her mind. Rather like wishful thinking. She could have wanted so much for her mother to walk that she simply said she did. She actually believed it.”

“How do you explain Uncle Allen?”

Daddy didn’t say anything for a while as if he might be thinking hard. “Children have vivid imaginations. Jenny is alone much of the time. She has no playmates. Sometimes children invent people. They pretend, but in the pretending their minds go a little bit further until the person they’ve invented becomes real to them. Sometimes the person takes the blame for the naughty things the child does. For example, the doll ‘Uncle Allen’ gave her which in reality she took from the child next door. Also, her mother’s jewelry that she mentioned this ‘Uncle’ having. It’s true the jewelry is gone, but it never occurred to me to question Jenny. Naturally, I knew of no such person as ‘Uncle Alien’ or I would have been concerned. She never mentioned him to me or to Martha. I didn’t want to disturb my wife by telling her that the jewelry was gone. They were pieces that she was exceptionally fond of.”

I heard chairs scrape and the policeman walk across the floor. I knew it was him because daddy doesn’t make very much noise when he walks. “You have an explanation for everything, Doctor, and the one about ‘Uncle Allen’ fits in exactly with what I believe. Your wife’s wheel chair was found in her room, yet your wife who couldn’t walk was found at the bottom of the cellar steps. How did she get down the stairs, through the hall, and across the kitchen? I’ll tell you. She came down in her wheel chair, finds out Jenny is wearing her things. She scolds her. There is an argument. Jenny gets scared or she loses her temper. She pushed her mother down the stairs, takes the wheel chair back up, and then proceeds to make up the story about her mother walking and her ‘Uncle Allen’ standing at the top of the stairs. ‘Uncle Allen’ is substituting for the naughty Jenny, just like he got the jewelry, just like he gave her the doll. It all fits, Doctor, and you know it.”

I decided I didn’t like that policeman after all. That wasn’t the way it was at all.

Daddy still didn’t say anything and the policeman said after a while, “Hell, I don’t like to believe what I’m thinking any more than you do, but the woman, Martha, telling about her killing the cat — that isn’t normal for a kid of nine. It isn’t normal for a kid that age to invent people either”

He stopped talking and it seemed as though he might be waiting for daddy to say something, but when he didn’t, the policeman said, “I don’t want to take the kid in — not today. I suggest you get hold of a good psychiatrist and have him check the kid. Get a lawyer too. No one is going to do anything to her. They won’t do anything to hurt her — you know that — just put her some place where she’ll get the help she needs.”

I heard the policeman leave and right after that I heard daddy drive away in his car. I went upstairs and outside. Midget had a frog in her mouth. I took it away from her and put it in my pocket. When I went back in the kitchen, Martha was standing there stirring something in a big pot. I took the frog out of my pocket and dropped it in the pot. Martha slammed down her spoon. “You nasty hateful little girl. I ain’t gonna stay here no more with you. You’re crazy. For all I know you’ll push me down the stairs like you did your mama, though I’d like to see you try.”

She was yelling real loud and her face got red she was so mad. She stomped out and came back with her hat and coat. “I’m goin’ to my sister’s. Your daddy can send my pay. He’s gonna come get you and they’ll take you away and put you where you belong.”

I giggled because Martha looked so funny and because I had finally got rid of her. She flounced out and I watched her walk in the rain. She always looks so funny when she tries to walk fast. She shakes all over. Then I went in daddy’s study and looked in his microscope and at some books. I’m never supposed to go in there but there wasn’t anyone to tell and it was a good chance.

I was looking at a real interesting picture of a man’s insides when I heard a car crunch on gravel. I put the book back on the shelf and peeked out the window. I heard a car door slam, but it was raining so hard I could hardly see the man who came toward the door. I decided to hide and I grabbed up Midget and ran to the hall closet, the one under the stairs when I heard the key in the lock, and he called, “Jenny. Jenny.”

I held Midget real close to me so she wouldn’t bark and scratched her behind her ear. Far away I heard the rain beating against the window, but mostly I just heard my own heart pounding. I held my breath because I couldn't quite hear where he was. Then I let it out real slow.

I knew I wouldn’t hear him if he came down the hall because of the carpet. Then I heard him go up the stairs. I counted eight and that meant he was on the landing. Then I heard him call me again and I knew that he opened the door to my room.

I tried real hard to hear but it thundered so loud that I lost track of where he was. I wondered if he had started back down the stairs, and then I heard another step. He was still upstairs. If he came down again, he was sure to see the hall closet and think of looking in it. The closet was empty and he would see me if he opened the door.

Quietly, quietly, I opened the door. My hand was wet and the knob was sort of slippery. Midget was getting heavy and I wished that I could put her down. I closed the closet door and held my breath. I wished I couldn’t hear the blood pounding so hard in my head.

I tiptoed across the kitchen and opened the cellar door and slipped down the steps. I had taken off my shoes and left them on the first step, and the concrete through my socks was real cold. I was kind of scared but I didn’t want to turn on the light. I held real tight to Midget.

I knew he was coming back for me — I was sure of it. I knew that I could get out the coal chute, but I wanted to rest a minute. I sat down with my back to Mama’s trunk and listened.

Then I heard him come down the hall, and just like I knew he would, he opened the hall closet. I heard his footsteps in the kitchen. and I hurried over to the coal chute. The cellar door opened and the light from the kitchen came down and he called, “Jenny. Jenny. I know you’re here. I found your shoes.”

I had to leave Midget in the cellar because she was afraid to go through the coal chute. Just as I got outside and decided to run into the house and hide where he had already looked, he called again. “I found Midget, Jenny.”

I opened the kitchen door real quiet, but he was on his way back up, and I had to jump behind the door in the shadow. I saw his head and then his shoulders. He was carrying Midget. “Good dog. Find Jenny.”

When he put her on the floor, Midget stood there wagging her tail back and forth and wiggling from side to side. She’d think it was a game, but I knew she would find me in a minute…

Far away the door chimes rang. I jumped over the open trap door and ran. It was the policeman and daddy. I was awful glad to see them, but I started to cry. Daddy put his arm around me and said, “What is it, Jenny? What’s the matter?”

Before I could answer, Midget began to bark, and the policeman looked and saw her at the top of the cellar door. He ran, and daddy ran too.

I heard them go down the steps, but I sat at the top. I didn’t want to go down in the cellar any more.

Then the policeman asked daddy. “Do you know him?”

Daddy said a bad word like he was real surprised. “That’s — why, his name is Allen — Allen Mayberry. Haven’t seen him in years — he was a dancer in Catherine’s company. But it never occurred to me — well, I had no idea—”

“This must be Jenny’s Uncle Allen.” The policeman said it like maybe he wasn’t real sure.

Grownups sure are funny. I knew all the time it was Uncle Allen.