Silver Meadows Summer

by Emma Otheguy

  “I didn’t mean—”

  Gabriela interrupted her. “What’s that rat thing you were talking about, anyway?”

  “It’s not a rat, it’s a mouse,” Carolina explained. “It makes more sense when you think about it—fairies can’t carry teeth.”

  Gabriela snorted. “Because fairies aren’t real, remember?”

  “In Puerto Rico we had a mouse,” Carolina insisted. She felt like she had said it a hundred times in the last hour alone.

  “My mom never taught me that,” Gabriela said. She went back to scrolling. Her perfectly straight teeth shone in the blue light of the screen, but she didn’t smile. “My mom never taught me any of that,” she repeated, sadly this time. Then she stood up and headed out of the living room. She paused at the foot of the stairs. “Just don’t be too hard on my mom with that doll. She made those skirts herself.”

  “Okay,” Carolina promised. She wouldn’t be hard on Tía Cuca. She had never meant to insult the doll in the first place—only to say that this was only Daniel’s second loose tooth and she wanted the Ratoncito Pérez to come to him. It made her heart ache to think that this move would take away the Ratoncito Pérez along with everything else.

  * * *

  —

  Carolina’s bed that night smelled of Tía Cuca, of shampoo and hair dryer. Tía Cuca had been doing laundry constantly since they arrived, and today was no exception. Uncle Porter joked that she barely gave anyone time to sleep on the sheets before washing them.

  Caro snuggled down, trying to get comfortable. As she reached for the light, something caught her eye—yellow. These sheets were yellow, bright and cheerful, and Tía Cuca had an entire closet full of sheets, enough to change them every few days. There’s always sheets, Jennifer had said. Carolina turned off the light, and dreamed of elves, dancing in a yellow breeze.

  Rain poured over the farm the next day, and everything—not only the fields but the whole world, the sky and the dairy and the slide on the playground—was wet and getting wetter.

  Carolina’s camp group huddled around their table talking while Daniel’s counselor, Josh, gathered the younger campers to take them to what would be a very wet garden. Carolina watched Daniel and Ben link arms, and it gave her a warm, cozy feeling. Against the gray day outside, the yellow walls of the camp center looked even brighter.

  Lydia stopped by the older kids’ table. “I’m going to send your group outside to feed the animals; I don’t want everyone indoors all day just because of a little rain.”

  All five girls turned to the window. Rain rolled down the surface of the glass in a cascade. No one could call this a little rain.

  Lydia shook her head. “All right, all right, it’s a lot of rain, I know. But don’t you know the poem?”

  Lydia didn’t wait for them to respond before reciting,

  Let the downpour roil and toil!

  The worst it can do to me

  Is carry some garden soil

  A little nearer the sea.

  She grinned at them. “That’s Robert Frost. Do you all know him? He was a poet who was also a farmer. Paul liked to quote his poetry.”

  It didn’t make sense, Carolina thought, for Lydia to remind her so powerfully of Papi. They were too different, Lydia gray-haired, Papi with his jet-black hair; Lydia from upstate New York, Papi from the Caribbean. But here was Lydia, quoting poetry like Papi, the same grin, the same joy as she recited to them.

  “So,” Lydia prompted. “Will you go outside and feed the animals?”

  Yuan came up beside Lydia. “Come on, it would be a big help.”

  Alyssa smiled sweetly. “No problem at all,” she said in her high-pitched voice.

  “Thanks, Alyssa.” Yuan clapped her on the back. “You’re all champs.”

  As soon as Yuan and Lydia were out of earshot Alyssa groaned. “I can’t believe we have to go out in this. It’s like torrential out there!”

  Jamie zipped up her rain jacket and pulled the hood over her head. “It won’t be that bad, Alyssa. Just put on your poncho.”

  Alyssa glared at Jamie. “You sound like my parents. I look ridiculous in it, but they still expect me to wear it. And you look ridiculous in that hood; it makes your face look all scrunched up.”

  Jamie sighed and pulled down the hood.

  “Let’s just leave all our stuff here and get wet,” Gabriela said. “A little rain never hurt anyone.”

  “Better than wearing our ugly rain gear, that’s for sure,” Alyssa muttered.

  Jennifer unzipped her backpack and pulled out a green poncho. “Suit yourselves. I’m going to be nice and dry with this on, and so’s all my stuff. Want one, Carolina?”

  Carolina took the extra poncho Jennifer offered her and pulled it on, being careful to cover her backpack. She was carrying precious cargo. Jennifer pulled her braid forward so it wouldn’t get caught under her backpack, then slipped on the poncho. It made her look even zanier than usual. Today she had put bright green leaves in her braid, and between the leaves and the poncho billowing over her and her backpack, she looked like some kind of walking shrub.

  Alyssa raised her eyebrows. “Interesting choice, Carolina. I’m not sure green is really your color.”

  “But no one’s going to see her except the sheep, so it’s fine.” Gabriela pulled Alyssa to the door and shot Carolina a dirty look over her shoulder.

  Yuan grabbed her whistle. “They’re going to get soaked.”

  The paths had gone from muddy to all mud since that morning. They passed Daniel’s group coming in from their outdoor activity. The kids were flinging the mud at one another and shrieking, and Daniel wasn’t wearing his poncho. She was going to look like a comparative angel when she got home, Carolina thought.

  “Hey, Caro!” Daniel shouted as he passed her. “My tooth is even looser today! And Tía Cuca told me that the tooth fairy she has brings extra money!” He whooped and zoomed past Ben on his way inside.

  Yuan dashed ahead of them into the sheep enclosure. “Let’s make this quick. Lydia just asked us to change the water; George is at a meeting this morning, so she thought we could handle it.”

  “At a meeting with my father,” Alyssa said proudly.

  Carolina helped Yuan turn the dirty water out of the trough, then jumped back as it splashed onto her sneakers. Alyssa was wearing pink rubber boots, but she didn’t volunteer to help. She stayed by the gate with Gabriela and Jamie while Carolina went with Jennifer to get the hose from the other side of the enclosure.

  “Remind me who George is again?” Carolina asked quietly.

  “That’s Lydia’s son.” Jennifer hauled the hose over her shoulder. “He used to live in Albany, but he’s been around the farm a lot since Paul died.”

  They reached the trough and helped Yuan fill it with clean water. When it was full, Jennifer straightened up and shook her braid out, scattering water and slick green leaves onto her poncho. “George might be his son, but he’s not Paul.”

  “Everyone’s just trying to do their part, Jenn,” Yuan said, joining their conversation. “No one is Paul, but it’s not easy running a farm alone at Lydia’s age.”

  Alyssa made a show of turning off the hose for them. “I think it’s sweet that George is helping.”

  Jennifer shivered. “How come he has a meeting with your dad?”

  “Oh, you know, just talking about some new farm business,” Alyssa said in her most angelic tone.

  Yuan blew her whistle. “Come on, everyone, let’s get back inside; it’s too rainy.”

  The others hurried out of the sheep enclosure, but Carolina grabbed Jennifer by the arm. “Yuan, can Jennifer and I stay outside? We want to visit some of the other animals.”

  Yuan held the gate open. “It’s really wet out here.”

  “Yeah, but we have these great ponchos
.” Jennifer flapped out her arms. “We’ll come inside if it starts to really come down, promise.”

  “All right, just don’t blame me if you catch pneumonia.” Yuan shut the gate behind her and waved to the other girls to keep going.

  But instead of heading back to the camp center, Gabriela straggled behind. “Where are you two going?”

  “Nowhere, we’re just going to hang out!” Carolina tried to look cheerful and innocent.

  Gabriela crossed her arms. “Come on. I know you’re up to something.”

  “Gabs!” Alyssa was standing by the gate, clutching her elbows for warmth. “Hurry up,” she whined. “I’m cold.”

  Gabriela looked back and forth between Jennifer and Carolina. “Fine, don’t tell me, then. Just don’t expect me to cover for you later.”

  “Why would we need someone to cover for us?” Carolina asked, but Gabriela was already marching back to Alyssa.

  Jennifer high-fived Carolina. “It’ll be an hour before anyone misses us; there’s free time now anyway. Come on, let’s go.”

  Hiking through the woods in the rain wasn’t easy, and Carolina’s socks were soaked by the time they reached the cabin. Inside, Carolina took off her shoes and lined them up neatly by the door, then laid her socks out on the floor to dry. “Too bad we don’t have a real fire,” she said, curling her toes in front of the fireplace.

  The yellow bedsheet was unharmed by the rain. As they held it out, Carolina thought for a moment it might make a good rug, instead of curtains.

  “It’s the perfect color,” Jennifer said. “We’ll feel like the sun is streaming through the windows.”

  “Rain or shine.”

  They had no ruler to measure with, but they used a spool of string that Jennifer had. They cut the string to match the length and width of the window frame, then laid the string on the sheet to use as a cutting guide.

  Carolina thought they would have to hem the edges properly, but Jennifer said to leave the rough edge. Though neither of them was an expert, they knew enough to take Jennifer’s figurine-making supplies and sew a row of stitches on the top side of each curtain, making a tunnel for a rod to pass through.

  They leaned on the walls of the cabin as they worked, and it was peaceful, to be inside this cozy house while around them the rain came down, kept coming, down, down, down. At one point, a drip started leaking through the roof, hitting the floor and turning the dust and dirt to mud. They would have to find a way to clean the floor soon, and maybe bring a bucket.

  What stumped them was the rod. “I could look in my garage tonight,” Jennifer said. “It’s full of stuff.”

  But they wanted to hang their curtains today, so they ran the string through the rod tunnel, tied one end to a rusty nail that was stuck in the wall, and held down the other end on the mantel with heavy stones. The curtains came out lopsided, and begged to be hung properly, but they brought undeniable cheer to the cabin.

  Jennifer crouched in front of the fireplace. “Now you’ll feel right at home,” she told the little elf. “Right at home.”

  “When I was little I was sure elves were real,” Carolina said. “Sometimes I’d imagine they lived in the trees in our yard in Puerto Rico.”

  “I used to think the figurines I made came to life at night, and I talked to them after my parents turned off the lights. They thought I had an imaginary friend.”

  Amidst the steady drip of the leaking roof, an idea formed in Carolina’s mind, growing stronger with each droplet of water, with each streak of mud skidding across the floor.

  “Jennifer,” she asked, “do you ever make animal figurines? Could you make a mouse?”

  Jennifer sat back. “How come?”

  Carolina took a deep breath. “My brother, Daniel, is about to lose a tooth.”

  “I know; he was shouting it to the entire world, remember?”

  “Right. Well, the thing is, when I was little we always used to have the Ratoncito Pérez, not the tooth fairy.”

  “The raton-what?”

  “The Ratoncito Pérez. He was just like the tooth fairy, except he was a little mouse. Doesn’t that make more sense? How would a fairy fly, with a tooth?”

  Jennifer dug through her backpack and pulled out her wire, scissors, and, finally, a tuft of white wool roving. “Oh, I don’t know. Fairies are magical; don’t you think anything they touched would just become weightless?” Jennifer sprang to her feet and danced around the cabin barefoot. “Like this!” She skipped lightly on the balls of her feet, raising her arms like a ballerina.

  Carolina snorted and covered her face with her hands. “You’re the spitting image of the tooth fairy.”

  Jennifer laughed and sat back down. “Okay, so what’s the problem? Can’t this Pérez character come for Daniel’s tooth?”

  “That’s the thing!” Carolina told her all about Tía Cuca’s doll.

  Jennifer stuck out her tongue. “Yuck. Whatever happened to just leaving teeth under your pillow? That’s what I did when I was little. My dad used to make me these little cards from the tooth fairy; I still have some of them.”

  “I know, but that’s the point. We left our teeth at home under the pillow, too, but my mom always told us it was the Ratoncito Pérez. But all Daniel sees now is that doll, so it doesn’t matter what we tell him.”

  “I see the problem.” Jennifer snipped the wire, then quickly bent it into a four-legged shape. She reached for the white roving and hunched over her work, her shoulder and long braid blocking it from Carolina’s view.

  Carolina laid her sketchbook on the floor and stared at her flamboyán tree. There was only one thing missing now that she’d filled in the blossoms with Jennifer’s red pen. She’d never liked drawing people, but she picked up her pencil and sketched a figure of a girl.

  “Jennifer?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “How long have you known my cousin?”

  Jennifer’s braid grazed the floor as she jabbed the white wool with a needle, teasing it into place. “Practically forever,” she said. “She’s older than me, but there aren’t that many kids in Larksville, and we’ve been coming to camp at Silver Meadows for years. When she lived in this part of town I used to see her around sometimes. Your aunt and uncle were friends with Lydia and Paul.”

  Carolina drew the girl’s hair, making it swing over her face, so the girl would look like she was bending forward. “It feels strange that everyone in Larksville knows her so well. I’m her cousin, but we’ve only seen each other every couple of summers.”

  “Until now.”

  “Yeah. That’s right.”

  “I bet she doesn’t like me much,” Jennifer said.

  “That’s not true!” It was an automatic answer, because she hadn’t expected Jennifer to say something so bold. She stopped drawing and chewed on the end of her pencil. “She’s just—worried.”

  “About what people will think.”

  Carolina twirled the pencil between her fingers. “More like what Alyssa will think.” She wasn’t sure if that made it better.

  “People around here usually are worried about what Alyssa will think.” Jennifer threaded a sewing needle with bright yellow thread. “It’s because Alyssa’s dad is a big shot. He built that whole development where your aunt and uncle live.” Jennifer tied a knot at one end of the thread. “Plus Alyssa acts like—I don’t know, like Little Miss Sugar and Spice Perfect Pants.”

  Carolina giggled. “What did you call her?”

  Jennifer grinned. “I’m just saying. People feel like they have to live up to her.”

  “I don’t.” Carolina picked up her pencil again. She hadn’t known that until a moment ago, but saying it out loud made her feel powerful.

  Jennifer paused, pulling her sewing thread in and out of a piece of yellow fabric. “I wouldn’t want to be like Alyssa,�
�� she said slowly. “But still. I know what people say about my family.”

  “What kind of things— What do they say?” Carolina shaded the sky above the tree furiously, abandoning the girl she was drawing to keep her own hands busy.

  “People think we’re weird. Because my dad’s an artist, and not a famous ‘gallery in New York’ artist. And because we couldn’t afford to buy one of those new houses, even if we wanted to—which we don’t,” Jennifer added defiantly.

  Carolina went back to drawing the girl, and now drew a sketchbook, unfolding in the girl’s lap. “I don’t think you’re weird. I love your house. It’s better than my aunt and uncle’s house; their house always makes me feel like I’m about to mess something up, like I shouldn’t breathe too loud. I love your house—and this place,” Carolina added.

  Jennifer smiled wide, showing Carolina every one of the rubber-band colors on her braces.

  They worked for a few minutes, then Jennifer clipped the end of her thread and held out her creation to Carolina. “It’s all done.”

  Carolina drank in the tiny white mouse. The wool was smooth and soft, and there were wire whiskers poking from the mouse’s tiny pink nose, and in its paws, the mouse held a yellow star, which Jennifer had sewn with the leftover yellow sheet.

  “It’s the Ratoncito Pérez,” Carolina breathed. This little mouse stirred something deep inside, where her whispers flowed in Spanish, and she said aloud, “Maravilloso.”

  “I added the star, to represent magic.”

  “Of course.” Obviously. This mouse could only be magical.

  Jennifer dropped the mouse into Carolina’s outstretched palms, then leaned back against the wall of the cabin. “Now we just have to wait for that tooth to come out.”

  Carolina stroked the wool with her forefinger and marveled at how real this mouse felt, how he seemed to be alive. “I love it. Thank you so much, Jennifer.”

  They wriggled into their damp socks and sneakers before heading down to lunch, but they stuffed their ponchos back into Carolina’s now-empty backpack. The rain had stopped.