A Smidgen of Sky (11 page)

Her question hung in the air. I shook my head and waited for some words to come, but it was like trying to pump water from a dry well. Ginger studied me harder with each passing second, her chin tipped up and her lips tight.

“I did it for you,” I said. “Why else?”

She snorted. “Never done anything nice for me before.”

“Well,” I said, “guess there's a first and last time for everything, now, isn't there?”

She seemed to mull things over, keeping her eyes on me as she fingered her necklace. Finally she said, “Piper, what makes you so sure your daddy's still alive?”

I sagged down a little. Didn't she know that hardly a day went by when I didn't ask that same question of myself? Why did I believe? Because Daddy's body never turned up? Or because believing made it easier? “Because,” I said softly, “they never found him.”

“But it's been four years. If he was alive, he would've—”

“So what? Look how long your mama waited.”

“That's 'cause she feels guilty, I think. Your daddy wouldn't have anything to feel bad about.”

Her words made me catch my breath. It was true— Daddy didn't have anything to feel bad about. But I couldn't say the same for myself. Tears came sneaking up out of nowhere, flooding my eyes so fast that I didn't have a chance to wipe them away before they spilled over. “Just leave me alone,” I said. “You don't know anything about my daddy.”

I wanted to run out of the room, but there wasn't really any place to run to, except maybe under the trampoline. But then I'd have to go right past Mama and Ben. I slipped down onto the carpet below the window and kept my head ducked while I wiped hard at my face.

The only sound in the room was my sniffling, then silence.

“I used to have lots of dreams,” Ginger suddenly said. “About Mama. Used to be all I thought about when I was little.”

“What about her?”

“Mostly about her and Daddy getting back together. I'd picture Mama and me going shopping or swimming or baking cookies, and I'd try to imagine what it would be like to have her around. I used to ask Daddy why he couldn't just go get her and make her come back and be with us.”

“What'd he say?”

“Don't recall. Anyhow, then he met Heather and . . .” Ginger paused until I met her eyes. One corner of her mouth lifted in a half smile, as though she was afraid to finish her sentence. “And it's kind of how I pictured it could be, just with a different person.”

I swallowed. “Don't it make you feel guilty, though? Like you're not being true?”

“Is that how my daddy makes you feel?”

I heard a woodpecker start drumming outside, and I was thankful for its noise. I twined my fingers around one another and took a deep breath.

“The plane wreck was my fault,” I said.

“That's crazy, Piper Lee. Why would you think that?”

“The night before the accident, Daddy promised to take me to the park the next day. But when we woke up, it was real windy. He tried to talk me into going some other time. But I got real upset and started crying. I said we had to go because he'd promised. I just kept bugging him and bugging him till he finally said yes. If we'd stayed home, he would've gotten the phone call earlier.”

“What phone call?”

“From his friend John. John's daughter and her boyfriend had gone sailing that morning. But the wind pushed them off course and they got lost. John wanted Daddy to take his plane up and see if he could spot them from the air. Mama came to the park, looking for us, to give him the message. But she couldn't find us 'cause I'd talked Daddy into going for ice cream. By the time we finally got home and Daddy talked to John, the windstorm had gotten a lot worse. He shouldn't have tried to fly. Mama told him so, but John was real scared for his daughter. Turns out the daughter was okay, but if Daddy had been home to get the call earlier, he could've gone looking before the storm got so bad. He probably wouldn't have crashed.”

Ginger sniffed. “Might've happened anyway. There's no way to tell for sure.”

“Maybe there is,” I said. “I think I found somebody who knows.”

Ginger bobbed her head. “Say what?”

I hated the way I blurted out stuff when I should've kept my mouth shut. But it was too late now. “When I was lookin' for your mama's phone number, I found a site for missing people. I posted a story about Daddy so that if anybody knows something, they can tell me.”

Ginger was quiet for a minute, then shook her head. “Bet nobody knows anything.”

I didn't expect her to say that, and the worry that she was right made my eyes fill with tears again. I jumped to my feet. “I don't know,” I said. “But one thing's for sure—you breathe a word of this to anybody and I'll rip your mama's phone number up.”

“Wait a minute. Where you going?”

“The bathroom. That okay with you?”

I locked the bathroom door behind me, sat down on the edge of the tub, and bawled. I was furious at myself for acting like a baby in front of Ginger and even more furious for telling her about Daddy's plane crash.

I dropped my head onto my arms and recalled that day, the way I'd done so many times before. The park, the wind blowing warm and fierce, Daddy pushing me on the swing. I'd begged him to do underdogs, where he'd push me high enough for him to run underneath the swing. And I remembered eating ice cream, bubble gum flavor. But the clearest memories were of going home and hearing Mama tell him about the lost sailboat. She begged him not to fly, said it was too dangerous. I could still hear her voice when she'd said, “Think about your own daughter.”

I'd told Mama once that I thought the accident had been my fault, but she'd said the same thing as Ginger, that it was crazy to think that way. But truth was truth, even if a million people told you otherwise. And the truth was, if I hadn't insisted Daddy take me to the park that day, he might still be with us.

 

I had to wait till Mama got into the shower the next morning before I could call Ginger and give her Tina's phone number. By Sunday evening Ginger had already left three messages, but Tina hadn't answered any of them. And by the time Mama dropped me off at Ben's on Tuesday, Ginger was so grumpy that she was downright impossible to be around. She made me stand guard while she called Tina's number once again, but she still just got the answering machine. She didn't leave another message.

When Ben came inside for lunch, we made bologna and cheese sandwiches and had some leftover watermelon. Ginger asked if we could watch a movie, but Ben said not until she'd washed up the dishes from the night before.

She stuck her lip out in a pout and crossed her arms as if she were two years old. “There's too many of 'em.”

“That's what happens when you don't wash up after each meal like you're s'posed to.”

“Why can't we get ourselves a dishwasher like everybody else?”

Ben smiled. “We do have one. She's ten years old and has blond hair.”

“That's real funny, Daddy. So funny I forgot to laugh.”

Ben was headed back outside, but he stopped when she said that. His smile faded. “I suggest you get up and do what you're told or you're definitely not gonna be laughin'.”

Ginger hunched her shoulders and her bottom lip twitched. She had her back turned and couldn't see the look on his face, but I could. I used to think it would've been great to see her get a licking, but I didn't feel that way now. I jumped up. “Come on. If you wash, I'll rinse. It won't take so long that way.”

Ginger seemed almost relieved I'd given her an easy out. She stood. “Okay, I guess.” Ben went on outside.

“Why are you so put-out with your daddy?” I asked her.

She sniffed. “It's his fault Mama won't call back. I think he told her not to.”

“Maybe she's just busy. She's going to school and all, 'member?”

Ginger shook her head hard enough to throw one of her pigtails over her shoulder. “Wasn't too busy to call the other two times.”

“Maybe she's out of town for a couple days.”

“You can call from anyplace.” Ginger stuffed the plug into the sink and turned the water on full blast. “Know what I wish, Piper Lee? I wish she'd never called to begin with.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. 'Cause before, I didn't care, and now I do, and it's not right.”

She shot a long stream of soap into the dishwater, and a huge mound of bubbles rose. She waited till it reached the top of the sink and then slapped it hard between both hands. Clusters of bubbles flew everywhere. I wiped a glob from my hair. Ginger laughed, but it sounded closer to crying.

I stood frozen, realizing that the exact thing Mama and Ben had worried about had happened—Ginger had gotten hurt. It made me so hot at Tina. What kind of mama didn't return her own kid's phone calls? I decided right then and there that I was gonna call her myself. Tell her just what I thought about the way she was treating Ginger and what a selfish, sorry excuse for a mama she was.

 

My chance didn't come until Mama left for work the next afternoon. But I had been thinking about it, keeping my anger on a low boil so I wouldn't chicken out. Mama walked me across the hall to Miss Claudia's before work and kissed me goodbye. I waited till I heard the door close at the bottom of the steps, then told Miss Claudia I'd forgotten something and raced back over to our apartment. My hands shook even worse than the first time I'd punched in Tina's number. I almost melted with relief when the answering machine kicked on. It was so much easier to tell off a machine than a real live grownup.

“Hey, it's Tina,” came the familiar voice. “Sorry I'm too busy to chat right now, but if it's important, you can always leave your name and number and I'll get back with you when I can.”

If it's important?
You bet it was important. I bit my tongue, holding back my words till the beep sounded, and then I let loose. “This is Piper Lee again. Ginger wants to know why you won't call her back. She thinks it's plenty important. I know you're busy and stuff, but it's not right that you got her all excited at first, and sent all the presents, and then nothing after that.” I paused for a quick breath and then rushed on. “I'm sorry I called the first time. I shouldn't have done that. I wish I hadn't. And . . . and that's all I wanted to say. Bye, now.” I lowered the phone but then jerked it back up again. “Oh, and thank you for the glider. It's a real cool glider.” I hung up, feeling pumped and proud and buzzing with as much energy as an electric wire.

Now there was something else I had to take care of. I hurried over to Miss Claudia's to tell her I'd be busy working on my scrapbook for a while and then slipped off to the library. I'd been wanting to go there for days, but I'd been unable to think of the right excuse to tell Mama.

The library lady was the same one who had helped me the first time, the one who wore her glasses like a necklace. “Hello again,” she said as she jotted down the number of the assigned computer and my allotted time. “Are you still searching for people?”

She had a soft voice that didn't carry very far, but the question still made me want to shush her. “Oh, not really,” I said. “Just doing a little research.”

“On anything you need help with?”

“Oh, no, ma'am. Just on birds. Birds of the South.” I gave her a little nod and then headed for the computer as fast as I could without running. I tapped my thumb on the table as I waited for the Real Investigations website to load. Had Lyn answered? Did she know anything about Daddy? I had my answer a few seconds later. A new post from People Hunter:

 

Hey, Piper Lee—

Guess what? I've got some friends who work for the coast guard. After some checking around, I found one who remembers your dad's accident. He told me some things I think you'd be interested in and even gave me a few pictures. They're prints, though, so I can't send them digitally. I live only about forty-five minutes away, so I'd be happy to bring them to you. I can run down Thursday evening if you get this in time. I don't know what you look like, so you'll have to watch for me. I drive a red Ford Thunderbird. Call me on my cell if there's a place we can meet. 912-555-0154.

Lyn

 

I forgot to worry about people looking over my shoulder. I almost forgot I was even at the library. Lyn actually knew one of the rescuers—someone who had real information about Daddy. I closed my eyes and saw his beautiful little Piper Cub, with its shining yellow wings and belly and its flashy black markings. I'd never seen a picture of the plane after the crash. Did I want to?

I wrote down Lyn's cell number and clicked off the site. I didn't know how to feel. That alarm was ringing in my head again, and it wasn't so easy to shut it out this time—but I had to find out about Daddy.

When I got home, I dug Lyn's cell number out of my pocket, and it pulled me over to the phone like a magnet. After the first ring, the call went straight to an automated voice mail.

“This is Piper Lee. I got your message today. I'd really like to meet with you and see the stuff you have about my daddy. I can meet you at the library around four o'clock tomorrow if that's okay. It's on the corner of Seventh and Jefferson. I really hope you can come . . . I'll watch for your car. Bye, now.”

I hadn't a clue what would be going on the next afternoon. I was pretty sure I'd be over at Ben and Ginger's. I'd have to convince Ben to take me to the library. I glanced at Daddy's picture in my scrapbook. Sometimes I wished it were smaller so I could carry it with me. Without looking at it, I had a hard time seeing Daddy's smile or hearing his voice. And I had to work real hard to remember that he'd actually lived with me and Mama, that he wasn't just some made-up dream.