Saving Cicadas (9 page)

The door closed and Mama put her hands over her face. She stood there frozen for maybe twenty, thirty seconds. Her shoulders bounced up and down again like they always did when she cried. The sight of her hurting hurt me. Somehow it was worse than missing my own daddy. Mama stood up straight again, smoothed her hair across her head and came toward us, smiling all fake-like.

“Why didn't you just say you were coming to find Daddy, Mama?” I said quietly, carefully. “Why didn't you tell me? Where did he go?”

Chapter Twelve
WAR OR PEACE

“All for nothing,” Mama said, her words like dripping ice. “All this way for nothing.”

“Nothin' for nothin',” said Rainey, grinning to beat the band. She was holding her cicada out like a consolation prize.

“Oh, goodness, you're just what the doctor ordered,” Mama said. She looked at me and gave a sad little smile like she was sorry it didn't work out the way she planned, coming up to the mountains to find my father. She was not one for long explanations, but I knew at some point she'd tell me what she knew about Daddy. She would.

“It's okay, Mama,” I said. “I'm sorry you didn't find him.”

“Come on, now. It's time to go.” Her eyes went wide. “We're off to find an airport!”

Just like that Mama sprung
airport
on us. First the trip, then my father, now this. Mama was completely out of control and we were just flailing right after her. Grandma Mona had wanted to go home this morning. For the first time in my life I was thinking she might be the voice of reason. That alone made my stomach twist all up.

We followed the signs to the Asheville Regional Airport, and I could only imagine my father worked there. Or maybe he was flying somewhere and we were off to catch him at the last minute before he got on the plane like they did in the movies. Maybe we'd won a trip or something. Mama bought lotto tickets sometimes and stashed them in her sock drawer. Maybe she'd won and been trying to keep it a surprise. Lately, that's all she was, surprises. I was too afraid to ask her what this was all about. Rainey was still holding her cicada, but turned out, mine was already dead before we got in the car, so I was just sitting there empty-handed, grieving my bug.

“Look at that,” said Poppy to Rainey. “Look right there on its wing. What do you see?”

Rainey pulled the cicada so close to her eyes, they crossed.

“Do you see a letter of the alphabet? Right there?”

“A dub-ya,” said Rainey.

“That's right. Every time the magicicadas come up from the ground, they grow wings with either a
W
or a
P
on them.”

“Really, Poppy?” I said.

“Really. And you know what those letters are said to stand for?” “Huh-uh.”

“War or Peace.” We all stared at the critter, everybody except Mama, who was driving. “Now that might be an old wives' tale, but you know there's always a war or peace somewhere in the world, so in a way, the cicadas are right—every time.”

“Wow. Every time,” I whispered. Rainey was truly marveling now.

“Well, this is interesting. We're flying somewhere, Priscilla? With what money? And I thought you hated flying.” Grandma Mona was in the front seat because she'd been complaining about being carsick in the back. Poppy was right next to me in the middle of the backseat. He was holding both mine and Rainey's hands, the one without the bug in it.

“Mama, I see airplane!” Rainey's eyes were peering up, her smile wide.

“Yes, honey, see that? There's lots of airplanes over there.”

“We're really flying somewhere?” I'd never been on an airplane. The thought of being so high in the air, so small, just a speck in the sky, both excited and scared me.

“I gonna fly!” Rainey squealed.

“Better than that,” she said. We pulled into a big grassy area, at least two football fields away from a fleet of planes lined up like soldiers. Mama stopped the car in the shade of big tree, took a deep breath, and said, “When I was a little girl, Daddy used to bring me to the airport whenever it was just the two of us. Maybe just a handful of times, but I remember them.”

“I do, too, sweetie,” said Poppy. “Oh, what a treat. What a great idea.”

“We'd do this,” said Mama. She turned off the car and got out, then opened Rainey's door and unbuckled her. “Come on out, Rain.”

Poppy followed, then me, and we four stood in front of the old Crown Vic, watching as an airplane took to the air.
Whoooooooosh . . .
Our heads tilted to follow it as it flew right over.

“What in the world are we doing?” said Grandma Mona, refusing to get out of the car. She sat there, eyes sharp, cheeks shriveled up like an apple doll.

Climbing on top of the hood of the car like four big kids, my mother, my sister, my grandfather, and I lay flat and watched the clouds move through the big blue sky. I could feel the hardness of the car in my back and sense my mother's presence beside me. I pictured Poppy lying on the other side of her, the way they used to when she was little, and it made me so happy. Knowing Mama had left home when she was younger than Rainey and how she didn't see her parents for a very long time—having everybody all together again, in a way, made this trip all worth it. No matter what happened. Even if we never found my daddy again.

“Look, the angel,” said Rainey, arm outstretched and pointing to a cloud with two wings flowing out the sides.

“Sure is,” said Mama.

“And that's a flower,” I said. “See the petals? Right there. To the left of the angel.”

“Oh, yeah. I see,” said Rainey.

For the first time since we left our house yesterday, I was feeling like I could finally take a breath.

“I gonna pick flowers,” said Rainey. “Get some for buggy.” She sat up and slipped off the hood.

“I'll go with her,” Poppy said. Mama and I propped ourselves on our elbows, watching Rainey hunched over in a field of dandelions. Poppy handed one to her, she made a wish, then blew it and stared at the puffy parts floating away on the wind. Then again and again. Poppy handed her a flower, and Rainey wished on it. It was Rainey's faith in action. So simple. Just taking things as they come. Then, believe it or not, she set her beloved cicada free. She watched it fly about three feet, then it disappeared into the grass. Poppy was patting her on the back, assuring her it was the best thing for it to be earthbound again, but Rainey decided to search and save it again.

Suddenly, I felt the weight of all this, remembering the baby growing as we lay here, slowly but surely. A baby. Mama was having a baby.

“Mama?”

“Mmmmm . . . this feels good,” she said, letting a band of sunshine cross her eyes.

I remembered that boy and his parents at Lake Tomahawk, and all a sudden, there was something I really had to talk about. “Did you . . . did you ever think about adoption . . . a long time ago?” The words sounded foreign to me, talking so frank. “I mean, you were only sixteen. It must have been hard to be a mama so young.”

A plane sped by in the distance, faster and faster until its nose tipped off the ground and it escaped the pull of earth.

“Oh, yes.”

“Well, what did you think? I mean, you didn't give away Rainey. Or me.”

“Oh, God, what am I going to do?” Mama sat up suddenly and wrapped her arms around her belly. She looked down at it. “I just couldn't give this baby away, could I?”

“I don't know, could you?”

Mama and I grew silent and watched the clouds. I realized I needed to add “adoption” to my list of options and pros and cons so I could help Mama out. Let her study on it in print. Rainey was still blowing dandelion puffs in front of us, the air swirling white.

After a minute or so, I asked again, “Are you thinking 'bout giving the baby away?” I couldn't see her face, so I couldn't tell how she felt about this.

“What if I put the baby up for adoption and nobody adopts it? That could happen. It
could
happen. Then it would grow up in an orphanage or go from foster home to foster home. Oh, I couldn't live, knowing I had a child out there, somewhere . . . I just couldn't live . . .”

“I . . . I don't know, Mama. I guess it could happen. But there are hundreds of people waiting for babies, right?”

Grandma Mona piped up from within the car. “Good heavens, if that's true, why do so many people go off to China and Russia and Timbuktu to adopt children?” The roar of an airplane shook our car and rattled the inside of my chest. “These days, seems it's easier to do it out of the country,” Grandma Mona kept on. “Less red tape or something.”

“But that's not right, is it?” I said. “This is America. It doesn't make sense.”

“No. It doesn't.”

“Look, Mama.” Rainey carried a bouquet of flowers as if walking in a wedding. “These are for you.”

“My angel.” Mama reached over to caress her cheek before taking them. “Can I make a wish?”

Rainey nodded, eyes wide, as if this is exactly the moment she'd been waiting for, living for. I watched my mother close her eyes. She took a while to think on it. When she finally blew her dandelions clean, I wished, I
wished
, I knew what she was wishing for. I knew what I was wishing for, that Mama didn't give our baby away.

“All righty, this has been nice, but it's time to hit the road,” Mama called from the hood of the car.

I'd slid off long ago and joined Rainey and Poppy hunting flowers. “Where are we going this time?” he asked.

“Yeah, where we goin'?” asked Rainey.

Mama said, “Um, Forest Pines.”

“Is that far?”

“No. Well, sort of,” said Poppy. “It's in South Carolina.”

“South Carolina?” I said. “But we're in
North
Carolina, Mama. We drove
up
to North Carolina.” Part of me was wondering why we were giving up on finding Daddy so quick. Seems like if she wanted to, we could keep on looking. Mama opened the door and got Rainey situated with her baby doll, her
Corduroy
book, her cicada, and a pillow across her lap, then she climbed in and started the car. Grandma Mona was still huffing in the front seat.

“You excited about going, Mona?” asked Poppy. He slipped into the middle backseat again. I could feel his heat pressing into my side.

“Why? What's in Forest Pines?” I asked. I was completely, totally, not in control, a consequence of being a child. Mama reached into her huge brown purse and pulled out the map.

“Gosh, Mama, it's all the way back down there, close to Cypresswood,” I said. “You mean we came up all this way just for nothing?”

“Not for nothin',” Rainey said. “I made wishes.”

“Mama, you came to Black Mountain on purpose, didn't you? Just to find Daddy?” I already knew the answer.

“Your father went to the North Carolina mountains four years ago,” said Grandma Mona. “Yes, your mother knows that.”

Mama looked in the rearview mirror at me, both of us knowing it. What, was she going to take me to see him? Was he down in Forest Pines? In the back of my head, if I was honest, I was thinking it. Hoping it? No, maybe that was saying too much. I had to change the subject.

“All right, so when did you decide to go to Forest Pines?”

“Just now, when Rainey made her wish,” said Poppy. “Right, honey? Well that, and I sort of suggested it back at the motel.”

I looked at Mama, my eyes wide. “
Who
is in Forest Pines, Mama? Did Daddy go there?”

“It's not
who's
there, honey, it's
what's
there.” Grandma Mona crossed her arms and looked all satisfied with herself. Mama paid her no mind and pulled out her lipstick, sliding it around her puckered mouth and checking it in the mirror. Then she looked behind her and began to back out.

When the car hit pavement she said slowly, “I spent a lot of time in Forest Pines, honey. I loved it there. Was happy there. Would have gone back some, too, but I was dead to everybody who knew me there.”