Little Blackbird (22 page)

A truck rumbled up the road, and Kate rocked onto the balls of her feet. Her pulse quickened, and she turned to look at her mama. Across the yard, her mama gazed at her over the tops of basil and sage. They shared a smile before Kate jumped to her feet and sprinted around the house toward the front yard. She ran up the driveway and arrived at the mailbox just as the mailman parked.

“Good afternoon, Miss Muir.”

Kate pulled air into her lungs. “Hey, Mr. Thomas. Anything good today?”

He smiled at her. “I think I may have seen something for you.” He handed a bundle of mail to her, and Kate wished him a good day.

She shuffled through the envelopes holding her breath as she walked. She stopped when she saw a letter addressed to her in familiar handwriting. She smiled so brightly that the sunflowers in the front yard turned their faces toward her.

Kate rushed through the front door, tossed the rest of the mail on the kitchen table, and flew out the backdoor with the envelope in her hand. “I’m taking a break for a little bit. Gonna go for a walk.”

Her mama nodded, and her gaze drifted down to the ivory envelope in Kate’s hand. “Make sure you’re back for dinner. Your dad had Mrs. Beatrice make a cake special for you today.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said as she hurried into the trees.

Kate wanted to rip the letter open as soon as it arrived, but she forced herself to wait. She always carried his letters to the clearing, where she sat down and read his words over and over again. Taking his letters into the forest started with Kate’s need years ago to read in private without her mama hovering around, and then reading them in the clearing became a habit. Now, she didn’t feel right unless she opened the envelopes among the trees and the birds and the flowers.

Kate jogged toward the clearing where the trees thinned, and she noticed a small lavender plant had grown near the center of the grassy area. Monarch butterflies, flapping their orange and black wings, darted in and out of the tiny purple blooms. Kate tilted her head. “Where did you come from? Here to keep me company?”

She dropped down cross-legged on the soft, spring grass beside the plant. She wiggled her finger beneath the envelope’s fold and slit it open. She slid out the letter. A single daisy had been pressed into the folds. Kate held the stem between her fingers and smiled on a sigh.

Happy Birthday, Little Blackbird!

I am hoping this letter arrives to you either before or on the day of your birthday—at least that is what I requested of the letter as I dropped it into the postbox. I’m sending one flower to start the festivities with the promise that I will have more the next time I see you.

My final term at college is finished at last. I passed all of my classes, and graduation will happen next week. But the best news of all came just this morning in the post. I’ve been accepted into medical school. What a relief! It wasn’t as though I doubted my ability to meet their standards (especially not with your constant encouragement), but there is always the possibility that life will throw a curve ball when you least expect it. I couldn’t wait to share the good news with you, and I’ll tell my parents the next time I come home.

It’s your eighteenth birthday! How are you going to spend it? Do you have big plans? I’m hoping you will agree to spend the day (or at least part of it) with me because I didn’t want to miss your special day. Your parents know I’m coming into town, so I’ll see you at your birthday dinner.

Miss you,

Matthias

Kate gasped and pressed the letter to her chest. Then she reread the last paragraph. “He’s here?” she squealed and startled a robin pecking the ground nearby.

Kate placed the daisy inside the letter and refolded it. Then she slipped the parchment back into its envelope. She brushed her fingers across the leaves of the lavender plant, and the butterflies fluttered around her hands. “Matthias is here.” Their wings beat faster against the summer air, sending whispers of a breeze across her cheeks.

She held out one hand, and a butterfly landed in her palm. A hazy veil lowered over Kate’s vision. The butterfly took flight, and Kate lay in the grass, breathing in the scents of lavender, peppermint, and birthday cake before the premonition cast images into her mind.

Four pieces of vanilla cake filled with colorful sprinkles. Laughter. A kaleidoscope of colors dancing across the floor. A dozen daises. Blue eyes. Love as constant and as warming as a summer sunrise. Matthias’ hand in hers as candles are blown out and wishes are made.

Turn the page for an excerpt from
Honeysuckle Hollow
by Jennifer Moorman
Coming Soon!

1
W
AFFLES AND
C
ANE
S
YRUP

Every resident in Mystic Water suffered beneath a relentless humidity uncommon for an April spring. Most everyone complained and decided it must be July. Even the Post Office snatched three months off the wall calendar, swearing the town had somehow leapt into the blazing melt of summer.

Air conditioning units shuddered and spluttered, ice melted in freezers, and parents dressed their children in snorkels and goggles, sending them off to school looking like lost travelers, saying the air was more water than oxygen.

The General Store sold out of handheld fans, even the God-awful psychedelic ones that people swore they wouldn’t be caught dead using. Ladies flapped their fans so wildly seeking relief that dogwood blooms ripped from their branches, and Mystic Water looked like a town trapped in a snow globe full of swirling white petals.

Everybody started praying for rain just to ease the swelter. The air was so wet that mold grew on moving car tires. The books in Mystic Water’s library swelled on their shelves and dropped like Mayflies, littering the hallways and spilling down the stairs. Little Johnny Stone nearly broke his leg trying to kick down the elementary school’s flagpole. He said he wanted to use it to poke a hole in the sky just to let out the water.

Within a week, townsfolk began boycotting clothing. They didn’t want to go outside in anything more than a bathing suit, which made for awkward grocery store conversations. Nobody knew exactly where to look when Ned Lincoln wore his speedo to the council meeting. Two days later, the sky burst open like a slit water balloon. Rain fell in fast, gray sheets, and the storm didn’t stop for twenty-six hours, forty-four minutes, and two seconds.

~~~~

Saturday mornings were Tessa Andrews’ favorite. She drank mocha-flavored instant coffee and read a cheesy, romance novel in bed until her stomach growled. Then she pulled on her most comfortable clothes and drove across the bridge to Scrambled, Mystic Water’s new diner serving breakfast from five in the morning until three in the afternoon. Nothing bad ever happened to Tessa on Saturday mornings. Not until the Saturday morning the rain stopped.

Tessa woke to the sound of a chorus of ducks quacking and a persistent bullfrog croaking out a bass line.
Why do they sound so loud?
she wondered. She opened her eyes and stared into the two shiny black eyes of a fat, knobby bullfrog sitting beside her on the bed. Its wide mouth seemed to be grinning at her. It opened its gaping maw and croaked a good morning. Tessa inhaled so sharply all the air in the room funneled toward her, bringing the bullfrog so close she could smell its pond-water breath. She screamed, sat up like someone who’d been jolted by lightning, and jerked the covers toward her chin. The sudden tautness of the duvet launched the bullfrog into the air as though he’d been bounced from a trampoline. It sailed through the spinning blades of the ceiling fan, croaking a question, and landed with a splash into the water surrounding her bed.

Tessa’s eyes widened like chocolate malt balls. At least two feet of muddy water swirled in from the hallway and into her bedroom, soaking the edges of her dovetail gray duvet. A family of colorful wood ducks circled around the bedroom, trying to find ways onto the dry land of her bed. For an entire minute, all Tessa could do was stare at the deluge in her condo. A bottle of lotion floated past as though it was a pink, rose-smelling boat, carrying three ladybug passengers on a voyage. Daisies in an overturned vase drifted into a wall, one red flip flop bobbed out her bedroom door, and the plastic cup she’d used as a wine glass the night before rocked back and forth like a buoy.

Her bottom lip trembled as she flipped back the covers. Her beautiful condo was drowning. She tested the water with a big toe. It was the same temperature as Jordan Pond in the summer. Tessa inhaled a deep breath, gathering her courage. Then she slipped off the bed into the murk. The wave created by her movements caused two gray tennis shoes to surf out of her closet and crash into her legs.

She waded through the water, picking up sopping wet items and cradling them in her arms as she moved down the short hallway into the combination living room, dining room, and kitchen. The front door was a victim of the rising water. The door had bulged and cracked away from its frame, allowing gallons of water to fill her home. The coffee table knocked into her hip as it floated off center in the living room. She glanced down and saw that her cell phone had miraculously survived the flood. She had also missed fifteen calls. Tessa dropped the wet items onto the floating table and grabbed her phone. She scrolled through the missed calls from her mom and Lily Connelly, her best friend.

Tessa dialed Lily’s number. Before she could say a word, Lily launched into a conversation. “Where have you been?” Lily demanded. “I’ve been calling for hours. Jakob told me he saw on the seven o’clock morning news that Jordan Pond rose ten feet overnight and that all of Oak Bend is flooded. And I asked him, ’Why does Oak Bend sound so familiar?’ You know how distracted I’ve been lately, and he said, ’Doesn’t Tessa live in Oak Bend right off the pond?’ And I freaked out. I’ve been calling and calling–”

Tessa released a pitiful sob. She pried open her front door the rest of the way and more water flowed in. She couldn’t distinguish Jordan Pond from her front porch or front yard or even fifty yards in any direction. She was now living in the pond. Something scaly and quick flitted past her bare leg, and she screamed into the phone, dancing around like a drunken ballerina.

Lily shouted, “Tessa! What is going on?”

Tessa pressed herself against the nearest wall and stared at the murky water surrounding her. The she cried, “There are ducks in my bedroom. I slept with a bullfrog.”

“You slept with who? Don’t tell me you let Robert sweet talk you into staying over last night. You know he’s totally wrong for you. Weren’t you just telling me that he bored you to death? Those were your exact words.
He bores me to death, Lily. I fell asleep the other day mid-conversation
–”

“Lily!” Tessa said. “My condo…it’s underwater.”

“Are you serious?” Lily asked.

Tessa nodded even though she knew Lily couldn’t see her head bobbing or the tears rolling down her cheeks. “Yeah. I’m standing in the living room in my pajamas, and I think there are fish in the kitchen. You remember in the sixth grade when Bobby Fletcher told everybody there were gators living in Jordan Pond? You think he was lying, don’t you?” she asked, trying to keep herself from a full-blown panic attack.

“Tessa, you hold on, okay? I’ll be right there.”

~~~~

By the time Tessa heard Lily’s voice calling out to her, she had packed a couple of small bags with clothes and miscellaneous personal items she didn’t want to leave unattended in her wrecked condo. She had also changed into a pair of shorts and a gray Eeyore T-shirt. When Tessa sloshed toward the front door, she saw Lily sitting in a rowboat wearing a bright orange life jacket that clashed horribly with the pale pink shirt she wore. Her long, curly blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun on the top of her head. A white-haired older man sat at the stern. A rowboat floated outside her condo where there used to be a sidewalk and the azaleas she’d planted. She thought,
Don’t park there. You’ll kill the bushes.
Which were drowning at least five feet under the water. A laughing sob bubbled up her throat.

She and Lily locked eyes, and her bottom lip trembled. Lily reached out to her. “Be careful.” Lily took the bags from Tessa. “We’ve seen all sorts of debris floating on top of the water. There’s no telling what’s underneath.”

Underneath? Like my condo, my car, my life.

The old man handed Tessa a life jacket and said, “I know it’s not that deep here, but it’s a lot deeper in other places. Better safe than sorry.”

Tessa nodded, slipped the jacket that smelled like last year’s mildew over her head, and secured it around her chest and waist. The man motioned for her to approach him at the rear of the boat, and while keeping the weight in the boat balanced, he pulled Tessa over the stern.