The Story of Abby Ann…part 8

Mary Francis McNinch2 Comments

Aunt Beatrice was still breathing, but unconscious. I asked the housekeeper if there was a Dr. close by. She said there was indeed a doctor who had been called to the estate quite often when the children were still here. She left to put in a call and I stayed with Aunt Beatrice. She certainly did not look well.

I had no idea where Aunt Bea had been going with her diatribe. I too was a little nervous about Uncle Charles running around unchecked, but there was nothing I could do until the doctor got there, and could tell me the seriousness of Aunt Bea’s condition.

By the time the doctor arrived, Aunt Bea was making some moaning sounds. It wasn’t long before she started coming around and opened her eyes. She looked at the doctor adoringly, batting her eyes, which coudn’t have been easy considering her heavy false eyelashes.

“Ms. Sanders, it’s obvious that you have been in an overwrought state. Have you been taking  your medication?”  he asked.

“Oh, dear,” she whimpered, “I’m afraid Charles is out of control again. I’m sure that  nurse isn’t keeping him sedated. Where on earth did you find her? Everything has just been so unsettled around here, and of course, I have to manage it all. I did win big at bingo last night, it had been such awhile you know.” she was clearly enamored with the handsome doctor.

 

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“You’re just having one of your spells Beatrice,” he concluded. ” I recommend a couple of days bed rest and you’ll be as good as new. You and Gladys really must stay out of the smoking section at your bingo games,”he added. He looked at me when he said, “I have someplace I need to be right now, but I will be back tomorrow morning to check on Charles. It’s very nice to meet you Ms. Allen, I will see myself out.”d3d594a4d316f3f6d5d6facd97098db6

After Aunt Bea gained some strength back, the housekeeper and I helped her back on her electric wheel chair and managed to get her back to her rooms. She was asking the maid for a bell and some magazines when I left. I needed to tend to Mandy.

I walked into Mandy’s room expecting to see her playing with her dolls, or reading with the young maid I had asked to stay with her. I didn’t want my daughter alone when she was not with her teacher, her father, or me.

There was no one in the room. It appeared that Mandy had been playing with her dolls, and the huge doll house. Alice and Andy were there, but Abby Ann was still gone, and in her place, was a new little boy doll.

I found the maid and Mandy walking along a path outside that looked like it led to the fenced school yard. I must go take a look at the deserted building that had once been a school, but not now. I wanted to relax with a cup of tea and read about Abby Ann.

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Abby Ann was only five years old when she came to live at the country estate owned by Charles Sanders and his spinster sister Beatrice. Mr. Sander’s wanted his daughter Amanda to attend school on the estate, and to that end, he built a little school house. He felt it was important to give his daughter schoolmates, but he was a benevolent man as well, and wished to help children who needed some security in their lives.

Abby’s Mother was widowed shortly after Abby was born. She was a good Mother, and loved her little girl very much. Providing a home and food for the two of them proved to be a near impossible task. It was made even more difficult because Abby had been born deaf. 

In her search for a better life for her daughter, she was made aware of Mr. Sander’s desire to help children such as Abby Ann. She immediately wrote a letter and asked that her daughter be considered for a scholarship. She was accepted and came to live at the estate. Abby was the first to come, and she and sweet little Amanda became very close friends. Both girls were taught sign language and they delighted in playing tricks on the household who didn’t know How to sign or read lips.

They enjoyed a happy life for three years, then when they were eight, two people they knew and trusted, came and took them away.

  

The Story of Abby Ann…part 7

Mary Francis McNinch2 Comments

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I was about to start reading Abby Ann’s story, when there was a knock at the door. It was Aunt Bea. I wondered how she manage to put such outrageous outfits together. On the other hand, they suited her. She was through the door before I had a chance to invite her in. There was a wheelchair ramp, so she hadn’t had to climb stairs, yet she was totally breathless.

“What can I do for you Aunt Bea?” I asked. “Can I get you something? Maybe a glass of water?”

She shook her head no, then took a minute to catch her breath. “I must speak with you about something of major importance.” She said.

“Of course,” I said. “What has you so distraught Aunt Beatrice?”

She moved from the wheelchair to a chair near me. She was barely talking above a whisper, as if she feared someone would hear.

“It’s about my brother Charles. He’s been coming down from the tower again. Oh dear, you don’t know he’s mad do you? He’s absolutely loco! ” she looked at me as if to see if I was grasping what she was trying to tell me. “He has a nurse who is to keep him sedated so he will stay in the tower.”

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“I have no previous knowledge of My Uncle’s state of mind,”I said. “What do you mean when you say he’s coming down from the tower again? What does he do that concerns you so much?”

“Oh dear,” she sighed, “I think I need to go back in time a bit. Please try to keep up with what I’m telling you.”

“Charles and I inherited the estate from our parents. Our sister, your mother, wanted nothing to do with any of us. Charles has always been somewhat strange, but not in a malicious way.” Aunt Bea looked away, as if she was trying to decide how to help me  understand her dilema. “Charles was married for a brief period of time. He and his wife had a daughter, Belle who was raised here until she turned sixteen; at which time her Mother took her abroad to complete her education. Neither of them came back, which devastated Charles. “Oh dear,” she fanned herself, ” I believe I will have some water, if you don’t mind?”

This could take awhile, I thought, as I went to get her water.

Refreshed, she went on. “Several years later, Charles learned he had a granddaughter. His daughter Belle, who would be about your age now, married a Mr. Anders. They had one child, Amanda. One day Charles received word that Amanda was being sent to him. She arrived a week later with a governess. She was only 3 yrs old. We never learned why she was sent here, or what became of her parents, and Grandmother.”

“Charles was devoted to Amanda. She was a delight and everyone loved her. Charles even built a small school on the grounds. There were five children including Amanda. It was a boarding school of sorts. Charles awarded scholarships to less fortunate children. They resided here during the school year, and went to their various homes during the summer months.”

“Where was the school Aunt Bea?”I asked.

“Oh my,” Aunt Bea looked as if all the blood had drained from her face. I helped her lie down on the setee and got her a cold cloth.

I could barely here her answer.”It’s inside the wrought-iron fence,”

“Do you need a Dr. Aunt Bea?” I asked. She didn’t answer me.

 

 

The Story of Abby Ann…part 6..bonus PEEK

Mary Francis McNinch

ABBY ANN

I checked on Mandy three times that night, and each time she was sleeping peacefully. Then, just before dawn, I thought I heard voices coming from the hallway between Mandy’s room and ours. I grabbed my robe and went to have a look. There was no one in the hall, so I decided to check on my daughter again.  Mandy was still sleeping, and with her were Andy, and Alice. Where had she found them, and where was her favorite, Abby Ann? I opened the door to leave, and that’s when I noticed the molding around the door had been damaged.

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I went back to my room (s) to think. I knew what I had to do, but in what order? Should I go to the tower to see my Uncle? Should I see exactly what is inside the wrought-iron fence? I thought about the damaged door casing in Mandy’s room. Was Aunt Bea responsibe?

I was mulling all this over when I noticed something on the floor just inside the door. It was a photo album. I opened it, and on the first page was Abby Ann, and in beautiful handwriting, someone had written her story.

The Story of Abby Ann…part 5

Mary Francis McNinch1 Comment

Aunt Beatrice was obviously a little apprehensive, and not at all anxious to be questioned by me. “If you aren’t able to take care of Uncle Charles, then who has been caring for him?” I asked.

“He has a nurse who attends to him. She is rather strange, but Charles seems to do well with her.” If Aunt Bea was calling someone else strange, this nurse must be a real doozie, I thought.

“How do I go about introducing myself to the nurse and my Uncle?” I asked.

“Yes, introduce yourself,” she said. I would suggest you make your way up the circular stairway and knock on the door. Now…I must go or I’ll be late for bingo. She hopped on her electric wheelchair like it was a motorcycle and managed to hit the round table in the foyer, and the door casing on the way out.

 

There was a door leading to the circular stairway that would take me to the tower. When I passed through the doorway, it was like I had entered another world. It was dark and dingy as opposed to gorgeous and garish like the other parts of the house I had seen so far. I walked up the winding stairs that seemed to go on forever. At the top of the stairs was another door that I assumed was to the rooms occupied by my Uncle and his nurse.

I took a deep breath and knocked. I waited, but got no response, so I knocked again just as I saw an eyeball looking at me through a very large peephole.

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Startled, I jumped back…I heard an unfriendly voice ask “Who’s there, and what do you want?”

“I’m Mr. Sander’s niece, I would like to introduce myself to you and my Uncle, I offered. The eyeball disappeared, and I heard someone slide the deadbolt. The door opened and I saw the person the eyeball  belonged to.

The nurse was dressed in a clean, crisp, nursing uniform complete with the cap. I have to say I couldn’t read her expression very well as she waived me into the room, then locked and bolted the door again.

“I was told to expect you,” she said. “Won’t you please be seated?” The room was dark and sparsely furnished. There was a fire burning in the fireplace. I chose a well worn chair next to the small couch. The nurse sat in a chair opposite me.

I wasn’t sure what to say, so I jumped right in. “My name is Andrea Allen. My husband Aaron and I are now the owners of the estate,” I said. “I want to assure my Uncle, that the agreement includes a provision for My Aunt and him. They may continue to live here indefinitely. The assets are sufficient to provide for your services as well.”

“I knew that too,” she said. “Please address me as Nurse Jones.”

“Certainly,” I agreed. “Now, unless you have questions, I would like to meet my Uncle.”

Nurse Jones rose from her chair, as did I. “Mr. Sanders is resting at the moment,” she offered. “He feels best in the mornings. You may come back then if you like.”

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Before I knew it, I was back on the other side of the locked door. I started to go back down the stairs when I noticed another door. It was slightly ajar, so I quietly peeked inside. I could see the shadow of a man in a wheel chair, but I coudn’t see his face clearly. Then, my eyes fell upon something else.

What is on that table, I wondered. I stuck my head in further to get a better view. It looked like doll body parts. Was he indeed making dolls? I needed to think about my discovery. What did this all have to do with Mandy’s new friends? Was the man in the shadows my Uncle? One thing I knew for sure, I would be back in the morning.

I looked at my watch and realized it was almost time to meet Mandy’s tutor. Aaron had spent the morning with our daughter acclimating her to our new home. He would be leaving for the airport shortly as he had a previously scheduled business meeting to attend.

The meeting with the tutor went well. I was relieved that she seemed professional and organized. I had no doubt that Mandy and Ms. Jameson would get along just fine.

After dinner, I went to Mandy’s room and spent some time with her before tucking her in.”I’m so happy you like your teacher,” I said. “I’m sure you will miss your school friends, but we’ll find some new friends, I promise.”

Mandy looked at me with a puzzled expression. “I already have three new friends Mommy,” she said. “Andy and Alice are nice, but Abby Ann is my best friend. They all lived here before the doll maker made them into dolls. They think I’m the little girl who used to live here. This was her room before she disappeared.”

I looked around the room and didn’t see the cute little dolls. “Where did you put them, sweet pea? I don’t see them anywhere.” I was starting to get concerned about where Mandy’s imagination was taking her.

“They’re still with the doll maker, but they’ll be back.” She promised.

“They’re already dolls Mandy, why would they have to go back to the doll maker?”

“They have to go back to help the new doll,”she said, “She just came from the place children go before they become dolls.” The place inside the iron fence.”

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The Story of Abby Ann…part 4

Mary Francis McNinch4 Comments

I woke up Monday morning and my first thought was…What have we done? I half hoped I’d been dreaming. We got to this gorgeous/garish country estate on Friday and by Monday, we were the proud owners of this fixer upper. Was it buyer’s remorse? No, we hadn’t paid for anything…at least not in dollars. Who knows what the final price would be.

It was early and Aaron was still sleeping, but regardless of what time it was, I needed coffee. Never before had it taken me fifteen minutes to get to where the coffee was. On the other hand, it would be made, and I would have many different creamer flavors to choose from. How would I manage a house/mansion like this? My only answer was…if Aunt Bea could do it, so could I.

I took my second cup of coffee and started the fifteen minute walk back to the room, or should I say rooms? There was a dressing room and sitting room, in addition to the bedroom and lavish bathroom. My first order of business would be to put a coffee maker in one of the… rooms.

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I stopped by Mandy’s room to have a look. She was sleeping peacefully, but her bed was becoming more and more crowded. She had three dolls now. Abby Ann, Andy, and a new little girl. I had to think about that a minute. Mandy’s room was what most little girls only dream about. All the toys were dolls, and of course the unbelievable doll house. When had a little girl ever lived here? I needed to investigate for sure.

 

My second order of business for the day, was to meet Uncle Charles. With that thought in mind, I took a brisk shower, and got ready for the day.

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I wrote a note to Aunt Bea, asking her to introduce me to Uncle Charles as soon as it could be arranged. Since I had no idea where my Aunt’s quarters were, I gave it to the housekeeper to deliver. I had an idea that Aunt Bea was not a morning person, and early afternoon was the best I could hope for.

In the meantime, I had to get Mandy ready to meet the tutor. When I got to her room, she was just waking up. “Where are the dolls?” I asked her, “There were three sleeping with you.”

“They had to go to the dollmaker Mommy. Remember when I told you they make dolls here?”

“Who makes dolls here?” I asked, “You keep saying things I don’t quite understand.”

“The dollmaker lives in the tower and, made Abby Ann, Andy, and Alice. Alice is the new doll. She was afraid at first, but we made her feel better.”

“Have you seen the dollmaker Mandy?”

“No,” she said, “because I’m not ready to be a doll.”

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Aunt Bea didn’t join us for lunch, but she agreed to meet me in the foyer at 2:00. She was right on time. She parked her machine before she got too close. “I haven’t seen Charles in awhile,” She admitted.

“Why is that? I asked, “I thought you were taking care of him until you became too ill.” The woman standing before me looked strange, but not ill.

“I can’t climb the stairs anymore,” she said, “And that’s the only way to get up to the tower.”

The tower, I thought…is he the doll maker?

 

 

 

 

The Story of Abby Ann…part 3

Mary Francis McNinch2 Comments

“What was that?” Aaron asked as Aunt Bea made her sudden, but dramatic exit. The rather eccentric lady  was certainly the polar opposite of my Mother, who had been proper in demeanor, and dressed the part. Mother was beige and Aunt Beatrice was…multicolored.

“We need to discuss this Aaron. I mean moving clear across the country is a huge undertaking. We don’t know what will be expected of us. We haven’t even met the gentleman who, from the sound of it, needs quite a bit of care. The attorney’s letter said Aunt Bea is ill as well, which is the reason she can no longer be responsible for Uncle Charles.” I knew I was rambling.

Aaron came to sit on the footstool next to the chair I was seated in. “I think we both know it’s a done deal  Andrea,” He said. “Besides, your Aunt Bea and Uncle Charles are the only extended family we have now. Don’t you think getting to know them would be good for Mandy? After all she doesn’t have any living Grandparents.”

Just then, the housekeeper came into the drawing room carrying a silver tray with an envelope on it. She handed it to me without a word. She then knelt beside Mandy, who was still busy playing, and stroked her long, blond, curls. “I’m so happy Abby Ann found you.” She said. She was smiling as she left the room.

Inside the envelope was a letter from Aunt Bea’s attorney. It was brief and to the point, just as my Aunt had been.

It stated that if we agreed to allow Miss Beatrice Sanders and Mr. Charles Sanders to continue to live here until their death, we would receive the title to the house and grounds. We were to receive a stipend that would be more than enough to maintain the property and care for my Aunt and Uncle indefinitely. He also said he would be here in person the following day with all the necessary paperwork for the agreement and transfer of ownership.

“Welcome home my loves,”I said. “Let’s take a look around.”

 

“Guess what Mommy, Andy came back, but he’s a doll now.” Aaron and I both looked back toward the dollhouse. I recognized the Abby Ann doll, and next to her was a little boy doll. “Where are you finding all these playthings?” Aaron asked.

“They found me Daddy.” She explained.” They want me to stay here and not go away anymore.”

Aaron looked at me and smiled. We were both thinking that our daughter had quite an imagination.

 

We had very little time to explore before lunch, so we decided to take a short walk and enjoy some fresh air. The grounds were beautiful. Everywhere we looked there were flowers, hedges, and trees. Inside the circular driveway, there was a small pond with a fountain in the center. A short distance beyond a row of well manicured hedges, was a small area surrounded by a wrought-iron fence.

“I wonder what’s over there,” I said. “It looks so pretty and peaceful.”

“I know,”Mandy said, “It’s where they make dolls.”

“Come on you silly goose,” Aaron chided, “let’s go find the dining room, l’m starving.”

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We had just seated ourselves, when we heard a humming sound followed by a loud crash. Aaron jumped up and started for the door, when for the 2nd time that day, Aunt Bea almost ran him down. He flattened himself against the wall and she managed to get by him. “Goodness,” she said as she tried to straighten her hat with one hand, while steering with the other. She came to a stop, got off her electric wheel chair, walked over to the head of the table, and sat down. She picked up the little bell, and rang to signal the kitchen we were ready to be served.

She looked festive, and with a big smile on her face, she asked us to join hands, after which she said grace.

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The Story of Abby Ann…part 2

Mary Francis McNinch

I hated to wake Mandy this early, so I took some time to look around the rather opulent
bedroom. It was lavishly decorated in pink and white. If Mandy could choose her fantasy bedroom, this would be it, I thought. It was at least three times as big as her room at home, and it was evident the decorator knew little girls. Everything was meant to delight a princess. On one end of the room, there was a pint sized rack of dress-up clothes with everything from cowgirl to ballerina costumes. Beside it was a huge mirror and a dancer’s practice bar. Across from the play area, was a reading nook complete with what seemed to be every children’s book written. Everything was appropriate and perfect for a ten year old.

 

I was about to check out the closets, when I heard Mandy stir. “Mommy,” she said, “Can I keep her?” She was sitting up in bed, holding on tightly to the pretty little doll.

“Well, good morning to you too!” I said, as I sat beside her on the bed. “Where did you find her?”

“She came to me in the night. She said she was happy that I came back. Have we been here before Mommy?”

“No sweet pea, we have never been here.” It appeared that Mandy was already caught up in the fantasies the room inspired. “What else did she say?” I asked, deciding to play along.

“She wanted to know if Andy came back too. I don’t know who that is, so I didn’t answer. I asked her what her name was. She said she’s still Abby Ann. She wants us to play with the big dollhouse.”

“What dollhouse?” I asked.

“I don’t know Mommy. I’ll ask her when she talks to me again. Can we have breakfast now? I’m hungry.”

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At a little before 9:00, the three of us headed downstairs for breakfast. The housekeeper who helped us get settled the night before, was standing at the bottom of the stairs ready to show us to the breakfast room. Once we were all seated, she informed us that Miss Sanders would not be joining us for breakfast, but would meet with us in the drawing room at 10:30. The kitchen helper who served us was none too friendly to Aaron or me, but was very attentive to Mandy. The food was delicious.

From what I had seen of the house so far, it appeared that Mandy’s room was an oasis in the desert. Everything was in good repair, but much of it was either dark or gaudy.

I was without a clue as to why Mother hadn’t told me much about Aunt Beatrice, and nothing at all about Uncle Charles or this incredible country estate. I found myself eager to meet my long lost relatives.

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The drawing room was straight out of the 19th century. The wood trim was beautiful, and nothing appeared worn, but the colors were dark and dreary.

A robust voice interrupted my silent critique. Aunt Beatrice made her entrance seated on an51e27994ce0bc565325c69e4babfcd23 electric wheelchair, and was driving a little too fast. She

stopped just short of running over Aaron. Whatever was dark and dreary about the house, Aunt Beatrice compensated for. She was wearing a bright blue boa, and a red hat. Her lipstick was bright red, and her perfume was overpowering. She was tiny, yet bigger than life.

 

“Hellooo, you must be Aaron,” she said as she raised her hand. I could tell Aaron didn’t know whether to kiss it or shake it. Instead, he sort of bowed to her. “It’s very nice to meet you Miss Sanders,” he said. “Please…call me Aunt Bea,” she insisted. “How delightful to finally meet all of you. Now… I’m in need of a nap, so I must get right to the point.” She began to fan herself, and she seemed short of breath.

“The three of you must move to the estate without delay,” she said. “I can no longer care for my brother Charles. Goodness, he can neither live nor die. You do not need to go back to your home. My attorney will take care of everything.”

At this point, I interrupted her. “We can’t possibly do as you ask, we both have our work and Mandy has school.”

“Nonsense,” she was having none of it. “Aaron travels all the time, you work from home, and Mandy will be tutored.”

“When are you planning to move?” I asked.

“Move? I’m not going anywhere,” she said. And with that, she fired up her chair, made a u-turn turn  and left the room.

I looked to see where Mandy had disappeared to, and found her behind us, playing with an incredibly beautiful dollhouse and her new friend Abby Ann.

 

 

The Story of Abby Ann…part 1

Mary Francis McNinch

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It seemed like a good idea at the time. I mean,who wouldn’t jump at the chance to move from a small house in the suburbs to a country estate? We were as happy as any couple living the American dream. It wasn’t even that we were looking for a change, but change was looking for us.

On a Monday, I received a registered letter from an attorney’s office back east. I do freelance work from home, so I was there when it arrived. I opened and read it before sitting down, but I had to sit down, and read it again.

I lost my Mother several years ago. I knew she had a sister, whom I had never met. Mother told me they were estranged, but I was never curious enough to ask why. The contents of the letter told me of another relative I knew nothing about.

Dear Mrs. Allen,

I am writing on behalf of your Mother’s sister, Miss Beatrice Sanders. It has become necessary that she meet with you regarding your Uncle, Mr. Charles Sanders. Your Aunt has been his caretaker for many years, but unfortunately, she herself has become too ill to continue this arrangement. You, Mrs. Allen are the only other living relative.

Mrs. Sanders is very aware of the inconvenience this will most likely impose on you, however; time is of the essence. She has requested that I make arrangements for you and your family to meet with her at your Uncle’s home.

Please contact me at your earliest convenience. Mrs. Sanders has requested you arrive on Friday the 12th.

I have enclosed a card with my direct number. I will await your call.

Regards,

Michael J.Simpson                                                                                                                               Attorney at law

My husband Aaron, was on a business trip, and was to be home the following evening. Our 10 year old daughter, Mandy was home with a cold that day. She was feeling better by the afternoon, and was happily playing with her Barbie dolls in her room.

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It never occurred to us not to go. We took a flight on Friday as requested. The attorney arranged to have a car drive us to my Uncle’s home. It was dark, so we weren’t able to see much during the two hour drive, but it appeared Uncle Charles lived in a fairly remote area.

When we arrived at the country estate and stepped out of the car, we didn’t know we were getting our first glimpse of what would become our home.

It wasn’t an extremely old house, and it wasn’t a farmhouse. It was unlike any house I had ever seen before.

We were shown to our rooms by an older woman who appeared to be a housekeeper. She offered to bring us dinner, and told us my Aunt would meet with us in the morning. Mandy took one look at her room and smiled, then fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Aaron and I were exhausted as well, so we didn’t look around at all before falling into bed.

I woke up before dawn, and went across the hall to check on Mandy. She was still sound asleep. She looked like a little angel. It was then I noticed, cradled in her arms, was a pretty little doll that I knew didn’t belong to my daughter.

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Bonnie Blue…part 5…existing or living

Mary Francis McNinch

20160214_215420-1I hardly slept that night. There had to be clues that I was missing. I went over every detail I could recall, from the first time I saw the doll at Goodwill until now. Was Bonnie Blue manipulating me just for the fun of it? Was she trying to tell me something about her past? Maybe she needed my help, but why?

As the night turned into morning, I grabbed some paper and a pen. I wanted to organize all the thoughts, questions, and possible clues I had come up with. I sat cross-legged on my bed for the better part of two hours, without even so much as a cup of coffee. I was driven, and I wanted nothing to distract me.

When I had exhausted everything including myself, I laid my pen down and looked over my notes. Four things puzzled me. First, she had wept when I said, “welcome home,” right after she told me her name. This was one of very few times she had displayed any kind of emotion. Next, she had alluded to having a fairytale life. She had said life, as if she had lived not mearly existed in the form of a doll. Thirdly, the stuffed pony had appeared out of nowhere and then just as suddenly… vanished. It seemed that Bonnie Blue had been trying to draw attention to the pony. It was after it disappeared, she said she was going to ride him. The fourth and last thought I had written on my paper was indeed, the last thing she had asked of me. I was to think about a moment, no, a defining moment in my life that had changed everything.20160214_223232

Suddenly, I heard myself gasp! Next to the  last thought I had written, I had drawn a picture of a little girl sitting on a swing. She was lovely, and seemed to be very peaceful and content. She was looking at the rainbow of colors in a nearby flower garden. There was nothing about this child I recognized. I looked again, and saw beautiful curls framing her striking face. The curls were red… I sat very still, looking at my drawing. I felt slightly dazed as I laid the paper down and got up from the bed.

The pony had vanished, had Bonnie Blue gone away too?