Little Blackbird

by Jennifer Moorman

  Kate narrowed her eyes. “I’m half Cherokee.”

  “So?”

  “Sacagawea was a Shoshone, you rude imbecile. I ought to leave you here on the side of the road.”

  Kate tried to stand, but Geoffrey grabbed her wrist. His fingers were thin and long, looping around her narrow wrist and folding over themselves.

  “Don’t leave me,” he said, pathetic and rasping. “I think my ankle is broken.”

  “It might be,” she said. “And you have gashes on your forehead and chest.” Not to mention the bruising. “Here, let me check your ankle.”

  Both of his shoes were missing.

  “Where are your shoes?”

  “I know you’re not judging me. We were just going for a quick spin.”

  Kate scooted down toward Geoffrey’s bare feet. They were scraped and bloody, but most of the blood looked to be from topical scratches. “I’m going to check for a pulse.”

  “In my foot?”

  “Yes, so don’t kick me.”

  Kate checked for a tibial pulse and found one. She told him to wiggle his toes, and she nodded when he did. His toes were long and thin, causing her to wonder if he could hold a pencil and write his name with his feet. She grabbed hold of his smallest toe.

  “What am I doing?” she asked.

  “Squeezing my baby toe?” he asked, as though his answer might not be correct.

  She grinned at him.

  “What?” he asked, sounding defensive. “It’s certainly not my good parts.”

  She caught his gaze and blushed so hard that the tops of her ears burned.

  “Well, that was inappropriate. Just slipped right out.” Geoffrey’s grimace turned into a smile, and he chuckled. “God, it hurts to laugh. It hurts to breathe.”

  Then Kate laughed just to release the awkwardness constricting her throat. The limbs of the pine trees swayed around them. “You might have bruised or cracked ribs. Where is your brother? Why would he leave you?” Kate asked.

  “He went to get Matt. Or Mom and Dad. Or anyone.”

  “Your house is more than five miles away from here. He’s not likely to pass anyone on this road.” Unless someone is going to Look-Off Pointe in daylight, which isn’t likely even for the town’s delinquents. “He’s on foot?”

  Geoffrey nodded.

  “I’m going to help you, but I need to run home first. I can get back faster than Benjamin can get home, and we need to stanch this bleeding. Probably need to splint your ankle.”

  “You’re a kid,” Geoffrey said, shuddering when he tried to move.

  “I know you’re not judging me, and I’m all you have right now.” She stood and he reached up for her. His pupils constricted, causing his pale irises to swell. Is he…afraid? On impulse, she grabbed his outstretched hand. His skin felt clammy against her own.

  “You’re coming back, right?” he asked.

  “Promise.”

  “I trust you.” His fingers squeezed hers. “I trusted your brother. He was a good guy. I liked him.”

  Kate nodded and dropped Geoffrey’s hand. “Everybody did.”

  “GOD, THAT HURTS,” Geoffrey complained. His jaw clenched, and his sweat stunk of whiskey and smoke. “I thought you were going to bring back bandages and antiseptic, not flowers and spit.”

  “Stop whining. The yarrow will numb the pain.” Kate pressed the yarrow poultice into the wound on his forehead. “And stop blaspheming or I’ll tell your mama. I can’t imagine she’s going to be too pleased to find out you were drinking and wrecked your daddy’s car. She doesn’t need to know you’re a blasphemer too.”

  He opened his eyes and looked at her. “You don’t even know my mom.”

  Kate rubbed the yarrow into the jagged cut on Geoffrey’s chest. Her cheeks burned at the intimate contact, but he didn’t seem to notice. He grimaced, revealing two crooked bottom teeth that were slightly out of line with the rest.

  “I know she volunteers at the Baptist church during the weekdays, and she sings in the choir every Sunday,” Kate said. “She thinks her boys are the best-behaved in town.”

  “Listening to gossip about my mom doesn’t make you an expert,” he snapped. “You don’t know anything.”

  Kate’s skin prickled. The grass around his body browned in his anger, and she moved her hands away. His gaze couldn’t seem to settle on anything, and his eyes lazily moved from one spot to another. Kate understood his anger wasn’t intentionally directed toward her. She assumed Geoffrey was anxious about the future, and for once, Kate more than understood the fear of what was to come.

  Kate didn’t know Mrs. Hamilton. Geoffrey was right about that. Kate had only gathered information based on what she’d seen or heard around town. Mrs. Hamilton didn’t seem to do anything but brag about her sons and her volunteer work. Her outfits were always pressed so severely that she reminded Kate of a paper doll come to life—all angles and sharp edges. Even her smile was rigid and perfectly drawn. She looked like the kind of woman who never laughed.

  “I’ll tell you what I do know. I know how to splint an ankle,” Kate said. “But you’re going to have to stay still.”

  “Pretty sure I couldn’t move far if I tried.” Geoffrey’s voice had grown thicker, slower, spilling heavy over the grass like turpentine. His arms splayed out beside him, palms facing up as though he was lying in a meadow soaking up the sunlight.

  Kate grabbed the short boards and scarves. She tucked an aqua scarf beneath his calf and wrapped it around to the other side. Then she slid the purple scarf below his ankle. She propped the boards on either side of his leg before she lifted the scarves around the boards and tied knots, creating a tight bond around his leg.

  “That should keep you from hurting yourself further,” she said. “Don’t put any weight on it. The splint will hinder movement until they come back for you.”

  When she looked up at Geoffrey, his eyes were closed and his chin rested against his shoulder. Her heart slapped against her ribcage. She pressed her fingers against his throat.

  He reached up a lazy hand and touched hers. “I’m not dead,” he mumbled.

  She exhaled. The sound of an engine rumbled up the street. Kate pulled her hand away and shot to her feet. She couldn’t be with Geoffrey when they found him. What would people say? She could already hear their voices. What did she do to him? What was she doing out there alone anyway? She’s crazy, you know, especially after they lost Evan. Kate glanced down at him, feeling guilty for leaving him alone, but still she raced up the street toward her house. Behind her, she heard raised voices and car doors slamming. She didn’t stop running until she reached her backyard.

  TWO NIGHTS LATER, Kate awoke in the darkness of her room. A shadow stretched from her window, across her floor, and over her blankets. She thought of Peter Pan coming to the Darlings’ window, but the man at her window was tall and thin and too old to be called a boy. She sat up and pulled the blankets toward her chest.

  The young man outside the window rapped his knuckles against the glass. She inhaled and cut her eyes to her bedroom door. She knew she should have gone straight for her parents, but she didn’t. Instead, she wrapped the blanket around her to conceal her nightgown, closed her bedroom door, and tiptoed toward the window because she recognized his dark silhouette—Geoffrey.

  Her fingers trembled as she reached for the window latch. She slid up the sash and waited because she couldn’t get her mouth to form any words. In all of her imaginings, she’d never once pictured Geoffrey outside her window.

  “Finally,” he whispered, “you sleep like the dead. I’ve been knocking for ages.”

  Her eyes widened. “How did you know I was here?”

  “What? In the middle of the night? In your house? Lucky guess,” he said, and he smiled at her for the first time ever.

  She leaned away from the shine of a smile directed at only her. It pulled all the air from her lungs, and she inhaled sharply. She looked over her shoulder at her bed to see if her body was still
tucked beneath the covers. Could this be a vivid premonition? Why else would Geoffrey Hamilton be standing outside her house? But her bed was empty, and the humid air rolled into the room through the open window.

  “What are you doing here? You don’t visit strangers in the middle of the night.”

  He chuckled. “You’re not a stranger. I know who you are,” he said.

  She shook her head, and pieces of hair tumbled from her loose braid. “You know nothing about me.”

  “I know you live here,” he said, smiling again, turning the air around him purple and playful. Lightning bugs flickered messages in the trees behind him.

  “The amount of information you know about me is staggering.”

  Geoffrey burst out laughing, and Kate immediately shushed him. He slapped a hand over his mouth, but she almost wished he hadn’t. She wanted to bottle his laughter and hide it beneath her pillow. She wanted to bring it out on those nights when she laid awake eating lavender.

  “Come outside,” he whispered.

  “What? No,” she said, looking at her bedroom door. It was still closed, but the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She sensed her mama turning over in her sleep down the hallway.

  “Come on,” he begged. “Just for a minute. I didn’t get to thank you properly for helping me.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said. “Now go before my parents wake up.”

  Geoffrey leaned one arm on the windowsill. “Come outside and have a proper conversation with me.”

  When he smiled again, the moon drew nearer. Kate felt herself leaning toward him, drawn in by the pull of his smile. She forced herself away from the window.

  “There is nothing proper about a conversation in the middle of the night with a young man.”

  Geoffrey laughed again. “Oh, come on. Cool it. I just want to talk. No one will even know.”

  She wanted to slam her window shut, jump into her bed, and cover her head until the morning. But even more than that, she wanted to go outside. She wanted to be near Geoffrey.

  “Is this some sort of trick?” Kate asked. Were there others waiting outside just to laugh at her for thinking someone like Geoffrey Hamilton would want her to sneak out of her house with him?

  He frowned. “Why would I trick you?”

  “Are you alone?” Kate asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “How did you get here?”

  “I rode a horse.”

  Kate’s brow furrowed, and he smiled again. At her.

  “I drove, of course, and it wasn’t easy. Are you coming out or not?”

  Kate felt a lightness in her chest as though a balloon had expanded and lifted her onto her tiptoes. She immediately shook her head. “No.” Then she closed the window.

  Geoffrey’s shadow lingered outside. He didn’t move. They stood in a silence so profound that Kate heard her heartbeat thundering around the room sounding like a freight train barreling through Mystic Water. Geoffrey reached out and tapped the glass. Moonlight reflected off his dark hair. He tapped again.

  Kate bit her bottom lip and raised the window a few inches. She squatted down, propped her fingers on the sill, and whispered through the crack. “You said thank you, now go away.”

  Geoffrey’s long fingers stretched through the narrow opening and touched Kate’s fingertips. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Not until you come outside. Are you going to make me beg again?” His voice slipped through the opening and warmed her cheeks, circled her chest and squeezed. “Please?”

  Without a doubt, Kate knew she should say no again, but instead, she said, “Let me change. Go down to the river and take a left. I’ll meet you beside the magnolia tree.”

  “Sounds like you give these directions often. How many men come to your window at night?” he asked.

  Her chin dipped down. “Go,” she said as she closed the sash.

  Halfway down to the river, Kate began to think meeting Geoffrey was a terrible idea. She slowed her pace as she approached the tree because she didn’t see him anywhere. Had he changed his mind and run off? Had it really been a trick? The river gurgled, and fireflies blinked across the water.

  “Psst.”

  Kate looked into the shadowy stand of trees nearby. Her heart hammered so hard that her whole body pulsed with the fast-paced rhythm.

  “I’m over here,” Geoffrey said. “I can’t get my leg wet.”

  His leg? Kate followed the sound of his voice and found him sitting on a boulder, stretching out his long legs. That’s when she saw the short, white cast glowing in the darkness like a snow boot. A pair of crutches lay across the ground beside him.

  “Broken?” she asked.

  “Fractured my fibula, but you knew that didn’t you?” he said. “You’re a regular Florence Nightingale.”

  “That’s an exaggeration.”

  He pointed toward a spot by the river. “You know there’s a bench over there.”

  Kate paused and then glanced over her shoulder. “It’s a…special bench.”

  Geoffrey grinned. “I see. Not meant for strangers in the night?” He patted the boulder with his hand. “Won’t you sit down?”

  She clutched her hands together in front of her. “I’m comfortable standing, but thank you.” She knew she’d come apart at the seams if she sat near him. Her body was already humming with energy. In the moonlight, his bruises looked like ink smears across his pale face. “You look better.”

  He smirked. “Get outta here. I look like I got in a fight with Sugar Ray Robinson.”

  Kate allowed herself to smile. “Okay, so maybe you look worse, but the cut on your forehead is healing.”

  “Because of your Indian magic,” he said with a smile. He touched his forehead with his fingertips. “It stopped bleeding and hurting, and my dad couldn’t believe it was already healing without stitches.”

  Kate frowned. The differences between them seemed to glow like the fireflies in the trees. Even in the darkness, she couldn’t hide the fact that she wasn’t like Geoffrey.

  Evan always had a way of fitting in with everyone around him. People found ways to be near him, ways to make him laugh just so they could hear it. No one seemed to care that he was half-Indian because he was handsome, athletic, charismatic—the opposite of Kate.

  “It wasn’t Indian magic. I used plants that grow around here. If people took any time to study herbs, they’d find there are hundreds of ways the earth can help them heal.”

  “Okay, okay, don’t have a cow. I was trying to say that whatever you did worked well. And thank you.”

  “I should get back inside.”

  “You just got out here.”

  The moonlight reflected in his pale eyes, and Kate knew she had to look away. She had to turn around and march herself home, close her bedroom door, and forget about Geoffrey Hamilton.

  “You wanted to express your appreciation, and you have. Goodnight.”

  Geoffrey leaned over and grabbed his crutches. He hoisted himself from the boulder and wobbled for a moment.

  “Goodnight, Miss Muir.”

  Kate made a noise in her throat. “Miss Muir sounds like you’re talking to my mama. Kate’s good enough for me.”

  Geoffrey grinned. “Then, goodnight, Miss Kate. I hope to see you again soon.”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to see him again. Perhaps once was enough, because already her heartbeat was erratic and her fingers twitched. Seeing him a second time felt like a dangerous idea, a fuse already burning toward a stick of dynamite. She turned and fled toward her house without looking back at Geoffrey.

  KATE WANDERED UP and down the aisles in the candy shop. She knew she’d end up with a bag full of Bonomo’s strawberry taffy, but she loved looking at all the wonderful colors of sweets nestled in their jars and wondering how each would taste. Finally, after circling the store three times, she grabbed a pink paper bag meant for filling with candies and stopped in front of a bin full of taffy.

  She
shoveled in half a bag before returning the scoop to the bin. She folded down the top of the bag as the door opened and jingled the shop’s bell. Geoffrey Hamilton and one of his older brothers Matthias walked in. Matthias held open the door while Geoffrey maneuvered inside with his crutches. Kate bent down to pretend to retie her laces, but she’d worn sandals. She rose slowly and peeked over the tops of the candy bins.

  Matthias and Geoffrey laughed with the young, blonde cashier, Sally Rensforth, who was a sophomore like Kate. Sally’s hair was curled and held back with bobby pins, leaving fat, smooth curls to frame her heart-shaped face. She wore cherry-red lipstick and black mascara. Kate had always envied Sally because of her blue eyes and blonde hair. Sally fit right in with people like the Hamiltons. Sally laughed, and the air shimmered. From his profile, Kate could see Geoffrey’s smile, and even from across the room, it tugged her toward him. She blinked rapidly and tried to imagine an escape route.

  Everyone in town knew the Hamilton men—which included Geoffrey and his brothers, Benjamin, Richard, and Matthias, and their daddy—had smiles that could enchant anyone. Daughters were warned as toddlers to avoid looking directly into the face of a Hamilton man because if he smiled, then all would be lost, mostly hearts. Kate had never believed the nonsense until Geoffrey stood outside her window and she was the object of his attention. Now she felt her pulse beating through her entire body as though her heart might try to escape from the weakest point. She pressed her hands against her chest and knew she needed to get out of the shop without him seeing her. She bent down again and inhaled three deep breaths before coming up with a plan.

  When she stood, she saw Matthias grab a pink bag and walk to the opposite corner where rainbow-colored candies sparkled, but Geoffrey was gone. She stopped breathing.

  “Hello, Miss Kate,” Geoffrey said.

  Kate gasped and spun around. Geoffrey stood behind her, leaning on his crutches. She crushed her candy bag against her chest.

  “Whoa, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

  So much for getting out of here unnoticed. “You shouldn’t sneak up behind people.”

  “I wouldn’t if they weren’t trying to avoid me.” His lips lifted in one corner.