Emma in Buttonland, page 8
Emma smiled. But she still wasn’t finished. With spiteful fingers she tried to grab the big round gold button in the middle of the compartment. But it rolled away suddenly. She stuck her hand out again, but then stopped, alarmed. What if touching Isolde made her shrink again? Hesitantly, she looked around. The first time the door to the hall had been closed. Now it was wide open. It simply had to work. “You stay here, you meanie,” Emma murmured. She took a deep breath and snatched the big round thing. Nothing happened. She breathed out in relief and stuck Isolde in her other skirt pocket. There was also a little piece of Velcro neatly folded together in the corner of the compartment. “Victor, you’re not all that big,” Emma whispered. She stuck him in with Gustav, Walter, and Louise.
Then she meandered through the room. She found a box full of junk in which a long wooden button was lying close beside a faded white satin button. Woody and Miranda. She took them both along, as well as the marker cap, the stones, and the snail shell. She would put those things back in the right rooms afterward. The skein of yarn she left behind, as well as the glittering Chanel buttons, which she found in a gold bowl. Just as she found a pile of rusty metal buttons in a particularly dusty corner of the room, her aunt came in with Emma’s sheepish uncle in tow, looking in from behind.
“Well, have you found something beautiful?” she inquired with a strained smile. Emma nodded.
“Oh, a coin!” shouted her aunt, who, suddenly delighted, wanted to pick up the coin, which was lying next to a paper clip near the rusty buttons.
“No!” Emma shouted. “Leave it alone.”
“Why?” Aunt Mechthild looked at her in amazement.
“Because . . . ” Emma gulped. “Because the coin has to stay there. He’s happy there.”
Aunt Mechthild cast Uncle Hubert a meaningful glance. Emma probably hit her head somehow, but whatever that strange child did in the tree for eight hours cannot ever become public, is what that look meant.
“Of course, the coin may stay there, if that’s what you’d really like,” she said. She rummaged in her jacket pocket and pulled something out. “Here. Three Velcro fasteners, just like you wanted. Lying in the drawer with all the other handy things that can always be reused.”
Emma grabbed them and pulled Victor out of her pocket to compare him. He was an exact match!
“Well, well,” said her astonished uncle. “Where did you get the fourth one? Do they belong together?”
“Yes. They’re a quartet,” whispered Emma.
“And then there’s this,” said her aunt. With mild disgust she handed Emma a rather tattered pair of lederhosen. “I certainly don’t know what you want with this old thing, but at least we don’t have to buy one. These were with Uncle Hubert’s emergency clothes on the third floor.”
“So, there was something good there?” Her uncle was astonished. “I had no idea that I owned such a nice pair of pants.”
And while he and her aunt argued quietly over whether or not he was still allowed to wear the pants, Emma grabbed them eagerly. They smelled a little musty, like moth spray and a closet full of clothes; the side seam was ripped, and the seat was worn through— but the suspenders were still intact. The left side was empty, but on the right side was a pretty carved button. It was hanging by just a thread. Constance.
“Gustav,” whispered Emma gently, “I hope the joy of seeing her again doesn’t leave you speechless!” And with a firm tug she pulled Constance off the suspender and shoved her into her pocket next to Gustav.
“My beautiful pants,” her uncle moaned under his breath.
“Are you satisfied now, my dear?” asked her aunt. She jabbered on and on at Emma without taking a breath. “It’s nice at our house, isn’t it, my child? You shouldn’t hide in the tree, we love you more than anything, don’t forget to tell your mother how nice we’ve been to you, you hear—”
“Aunt Mechthild,” Emma cut her off. “Can you show me how to sew?” A wonderful idea had just come to her.
“Sew?” asked her aunt, thrown for a loop. “Depends on what it is. What do you want to sew?”
“A collar and a skirt,” said Emma.
FRIENDS
Two days later, Emma waved to her uncle and aunt one last time. They stood in front of their big house looking infinitely relieved. Next to them on the ground sat Pepper the cat. He kept jerking his head back and forth in order to look at his new collar. It was obvious that he was especially interested in the big, round gold button which was finally his, and which Emma, with Aunt Mechthild’s guidance, had sewn on firmly.
“Have fun, Isolde,” murmured Emma.
“What did you say, my precious darling?” asked her mother. She was sitting next to Emma in the car, steering through the big gate.
“Nothing.”
“I’m so glad that I was able to come get you earlier. Were you really bored there? There isn’t really much for children to do at Uncle Hubert and Aunt Mechthild’s. And all that junk that the two of them collect . . . ” She shook her head in bewilderment. “Oh well, it doesn’t surprise me. From what I’ve heard, Uncle Hubert was strange, even as a child.”
“Did he keep everything he found back then?” asked Emma.
Her mother nodded, amused. “And how. You know—he’s really Granny’s brother. You just call him uncle. And she told me that, as a child, he got a new room every year because he hoarded so many treasures that the old one got too little.”
“And was he a jigsaw puzzle fanatic then too?”
Emma couldn’t for the life of her imagine Uncle Hubert as a little boy. With his own teeth!
“No,” answered her mother. “Aunt Mechthild brought the puzzle obsession into the marriage.” She thought for a minute. “But not at the beginning, really. Not until she’d had a little nervous breakdown. Right before the wedding to Uncle Hubert.”
“Was she afraid that he would run away with a fat woman from the bowling club?” asked Emma, startled. Miranda’s sad story came right to mind.
“Of course not! What strange ideas you come up with!” Emma’s mother shook her head in surprise. “No, nobody knows exactly what was wrong with her. One evening she disappeared somewhere in the house for several hours; no one could find her.”
“And then?” Emma asked with bated breath.
“Then, all of a sudden, she turned up, completely hysterical, saying incoherent stuff about some commune and that they wanted to arrest her and that she wasn’t a button. Completely nuts.” Emma’s mother braked sharply as they turned the corner. Then she continued. “Uncle Hubert gave her a puzzle then to calm her down; she sat in front of it for hours, pushing one piece into another. After that, she was normal—well, as far as you can call Aunt Mechthild normal.” Emma’s mother giggled. “From that day on she was a puzzle fanatic.”
Emma tugged excitedly at her sleeve. “Did she . . . did she ever say anything about the commune?”
Her mother frowned.
“No, I can’t remember. I think she just had a funny dream. From that day on, the only thing she’s collected like crazy is buttons.” She glanced over at Emma. “Well, at least she taught you how to sew, right?”
“Yes,” said Emma. “And I even found a few friends.”
“Oh, really?” Her mother was surprised.
Emma rubbed her little finger over her new skirt. There she had personally sewn a cheerful border—consisting of two carved buttons very much in love, an unbelievably valuable ruby button, an unusually handy plastic button, a wooden hippie button who was snuggled up to his new bride, Miranda, as well as a literary quartet.
“Really,” said Emma.
ULRIKE RYLANCE, was born in Jena in 1968. She studied both English and German languages and literature in Leipzig and London. After completing her studies, she worked in London for ten years teaching German to children and adults. Since 2001, she has lived in Seattle with her husband and two daughters, writing books for children and young adults. Her first young adult novel, Ein Date für vier (A Date for Four), was published in 2010.
SILKE LEFFLER,who was born in Vorarlberg in 1970, first completed an apprenticeship as a dressmaker and then studied textile design. Since 1996 she has worked as a freelance textile designer for prestigious international firms. She has also been working as a children’s book illustrator and designer of stationary products since 1998. She lives with her family in southern Germany.
Copyright © 2013 by Ulrike Rylance Illustrations Copyright © 2013 by Silke Leffler English Translation Copyright © 2013 by Skyhorse Publishing, Inc.
Originally published as Emma im Knopfland by Ulrike Rylance with illustrations by Silke Leffler © 2011 Verlagshaus Jacoby & Stuart, Berlin, Germany. Licensed by agreement with Verlagshaus Jacoby & Stuart.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file. ISBN: 978-1-62873-354-9
Manufactured in China, May 2013 This product conforms to CPSIA 2008
Ulrike Rylance, Emma in Buttonland
