Little Blackbird

by Jennifer Moorman

  Kate’s jaw clenched.

  “Shut up, Ben,” Matthias said before his gaze met Kate’s.

  “This is Kate Muir,” Geoffrey said. “Kate, this is Benjamin, Richard, and Matthias.”

  Richard lifted his bottle and said hello. Matthias smiled at her.

  “Hi,” she said, not wanting to meet anyone’s gaze.

  Benjamin tilted his head. “Are you Evan Muir’s little sister?”

  Kate’s eyes drifted toward Matthias, who gave her a small smile. She nodded because she didn’t trust her voice to escape her too-tight throat.

  “He was a helluva football player,” Benjamin said. “Want a beer?”

  Kate jerked her head toward him. Did college boys really ask underage girls to drink with them? “No, thanks. I have a Coke.”

  “I’ll take one,” Geoffrey said. “Sure you don’t want one?” he asked Kate.

  She shook her head. Wasn’t it bad enough she’d lied so she could sneak out with him? She couldn’t come home reeking of beer. Regret skulked into the room and wrapped itself around her chest. What was she doing here, in a room full of strangers who thought it was okay to give a sixteen-year-old alcohol? She glanced over at Geoffrey, but he was already on his way to grab a beer.

  “What’s the name of the family two doors down?” Benjamin asked. He tilted back his bottle and finished the rest of his beer. “Grab me another one, will you?” he asked, looking at Geoffrey.

  “Down which way?” Matthias asked.

  Benjamin pointed east. While balancing on one foot, Geoffrey used his opener to pop off the tops on two beers. He passed one bottle to Benjamin.

  “The Lees,” Matthias said.

  “Yeah, the Lees. I saw their daughter, Martha, I think, and her friend in the yard a little while ago. I invited them over,” Benjamin said.

  Panic zinged up from Kate’s toes all the way to her chest, where it lodged itself. She looked at Geoffrey, but he still wasn’t paying attention to her. The brown bottle in his hand held him captive while he drank. She didn’t want anyone to know she was at Geoffrey’s house. Martha would tell everyone she saw, and then it would get back to Kate’s parents, and then Kate would be grounded until she was seventy-six.

  “Their daughter is sixteen, Ben,” Matthias said.

  “So?”

  “So, isn’t that a little too young for you?”

  Benjamin made a show of counting on his fingers. “Nine years. If you’d seen how excited she was for the invitation, you wouldn’t question it,” Benjamin said with a smirk.

  “I’m always going to question your motives,” Matthias said.

  Benjamin walked past Matthias and clinked their bottles together. “Maybe I invited her over for you. Or for Tiger Lily to have a couple of playmates.” He winked at Kate as he passed her and walked out into the garden. Richard laughed and followed Benjamin outside.

  Kate turned to Geoffrey. “Take me home.”

  Geoffrey nearly spewed beer from his mouth. “What? Why?”

  She placed her half empty soda bottle on the kitchen counter and walked toward the garage door.

  “Wait, Kate,” Geoffrey called. He hobbled to catch up with her in the hallway. “Why?”

  “I can’t have girls like Martha knowing I was over here when your parents were away. Do you have any idea what that would make me look like?”

  “She won’t care.”

  “Yes, she will,” Kate argued. “She’d care so much that she’d probably blab to the entire town as soon as she gets home today.”

  “Stay,” Geoffrey said. “You just got here.”

  “Why? So your drunk brother can come up with other insulting names to call me?”

  “He’s not trying to insult you. That’s his way. He teases.”

  “Please, take me home, Geoffrey. This wasn’t a good idea.”

  Matthias stepped into the hallway. “You can’t drive her home,” he said.

  Kate’s eyes widened before she straightened her shoulders. “I’ll walk then.”

  Matthias wrinkled his brow. “What? No, I’ll drive you. Geoffrey, you’ve been drinking,” he said as he pointed to the bottle in Geoffrey’s hand. “I’ll drive Kate home. We don’t need another car wreck.”

  “I’ve had one beer.”

  “I said no,” Matthias responded.

  Geoffrey shoved his narrow fingers through his dark hair. “Wow, this did not turn out how I imagined.”

  For a moment, Kate’s expression softened. Geoffrey had imagined her being in his house. But none of that mattered now. Not with Benjamin’s insults, not with the alcohol, not with Martha Lee exposing Kate’s lies. Kate opened the garage door and stepped outside. In a minute, Matthias joined her, and they got into the car.

  For the first few minutes, they were both silent during the drive to Kate’s bicycle. As soon as they drove over the bridge and away from town, Matthias spoke up.

  “I’m sorry about my brother,” he said.

  “Which one?” Kate stared at the trees as they blurred past the window.

  “Mostly for Ben.”

  “Because he’s a rude drunk?”

  Matthias laughed. “Among other things, but yes. And for Geoffrey.”

  “What for?” she asked, turning to look at him.

  “He’s young. He doesn’t always know how to handle a situation. But he is right about Ben. Ben’s a real jerk sometimes, but he teases a lot too. He wasn’t trying to insult you. In his own way, he was calling you a princess. You know, the princess from Peter Pan?”

  “I know who Tiger Lily is. I can read,” she snapped. “I’m only half Cherokee. It’s not as though I’m some other subspecies. I’m still a girl, and I was born in this town. I’m not that different from anyone else. I have feelings, ya know?”

  Matthias glanced over at her. “Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself? I know all of that.”

  Did he? The Hamiltons were used to fitting in, to being the admired family, to being the most popular boys in school, to having everything they’d ever wanted. Did someone like Matthias really know what it was like to be set apart because of something he couldn’t control?

  “Pull over there,” Kate said, pointing out the window to a spot up ahead.

  “I’m not dropping you off on the side of the road.”

  “No, my bicycle. It’s in the woods.” Kate’s ears warmed, and her cheeks flushed. She stared straight ahead. “Here is fine. I’ll ride my bike from here.”

  “Why is your bike in the woods?” Matthias pulled onto the shoulder of the road.

  Kate exhaled. “Geoffrey picked me up here. He…he couldn’t very well pick me up at my house.”

  “Because you’re too young to date?”

  “Date?” she blurted. “We’re not dating.” Sneaking out of the house twice is not considered dating. In fact, I don’t even know what we’re doing other than being inappropriate. “I told my daddy I was going to a girlfriend’s house.”

  “Why?”

  For so many reasons. Kate sighed. “Your parents were away. I’ve never even been to a boy’s house before, and I certainly wouldn’t be allowed to go if his parents weren’t home.”

  “And yet you did,” Matthias said. The corner of his lips lifted into a half smile.

  “A mistake.” She opened the car door but didn’t meet his gaze. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Kate, I’m sorry. Really.”

  She shrugged, finally looking into his pale, blue eyes. She hated the pity she saw there.

  “I’m used to it.” She slammed the door harder than she intended, and she didn’t look back as she ran into the safety of the woods. Once she found her bike, she slumped against a tree, covered her face with her hands, and cried. Only the birds came down to console her.

  KATE WAS THANKFUL her daddy was busy working on architectural plans by the time she rode her bike down the driveway and came inside. He barely looked up from the kitchen table papered in blueprints, so he didn’t have an oppor
tunity to notice her swollen, bloodshot eyes. She went straight to the bathroom and stood beneath the scalding hot water in the shower until she was sure she’d washed away the last remnants of her sadness. As she toweled off, she tried to rub away the ache in her chest, but it itched and throbbed like a poison ivy rash.

  When her mama came home at dinnertime, Kate was still sitting down by the river, tossing pebbles into the water and sketching pictures of Honeysuckle Hollow’s chandelier into the dirt with her finger. Someone walked through the grass toward her, and Kate knew it was her mama, barefoot and determined.

  “Martha Lee’s?” her mama asked.

  Kate didn’t look up, didn’t turn her gaze toward her mama. “For a little while.”

  “I didn’t know you were friends.”

  Kate shrugged. “Just getting to know each other.”

  “Did you find the alcohol beneath her bed?”

  “Mama!” Kate protested.

  Her mama sat down beside her, with her skirt flowing around her legs like a blanket as red as a cardinal’s wing. “I was only asking a simple question. Your dad said you didn’t stay long.”

  “I didn’t feel well.”

  “Maybe it’s because you had peanut butter pie for lunch,” her mama said.

  Kate looked at her then with wide eyes. Her mama smiled and shook her head. “Your dad. As if I wouldn’t notice the missing pieces.”

  “I didn’t have any.”

  “I know. He admitted to that. Did you have a good time at Martha’s?”

  Kate shrugged and tossed a torn blade of grass into the water. “Depends on your definition of a good time. It was different. They’re different.”

  “How so?”

  “They’re rich.”

  Her mama laughed. Sunbeams changed directions and shined on her face, illuminating her skin. “You mean they live in a big, fancy house.”

  They sat in silence for a while, and Kate watched the sun drop below the pines across the river, casting a red-orange glow behind the trees, looking like a distant forest fire.

  Kate hadn’t expected her mama to understand. Her mama’s definition of rich was having good health, having overflowing happiness, having one’s family close, and being surrounded by nature. “It’s like they live in a completely different way than we do. Everything they have looks antique and expensive. It’s like a dollhouse. Everything is perfect.”

  “And boring,” her mama said with a smile.

  “Mama, you don’t understand.”

  “I never do,” her mama said.

  Kate frowned. “You never wondered why Evan wanted to hang with them.”

  Her mama’s hands stilled and her gaze stretched across the water. “Oh, I knew the answer to that.”

  “What was it?”

  “He was never mesmerized by their riches or their way of life. They were drawn to him. They needed him. He had something they lack sometimes.”

  Kate’s eyebrows knit together. “And what is that?”

  “The light.” Her mama’s sigh bent the reeds lining the river, and they dipped toward the water.

  Kate thought of the sunlight trying to press its way inside Honeysuckle Hollow, only to be held at bay, only to be let inside when allowed. She wondered if they had constructed ways to keep the light out of their hearts too.

  No one in Mystic Water had been able to construct a way to keep Evan out. He walked around as though he had happiness tucked away in his pockets and he gave it away for free to anyone who needed it.

  Her mama was right. Mystic Water needed people like Evan. But they could probably do without another busted up person like her.

  Her mama stood. “Come inside. Dinner is almost ready.”

  During dinner, Kate pushed her carrots and broccoli around on a blue plate with a chipped edge that revealed the darker material beneath the lacquer. Her daddy’s plate was white, and her mama cut her chicken on a china plate patterned with red toile du jouy. Kate would bet her favorite plant guidebook that the Hamiltons never ate on cracked, mismatched dinnerware.

  That night Kate fell asleep thinking of Peter Pan and how she would always be Tiger Lily and never Wendy, the girl everyone remembered, the girl everyone wanted to be.

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING Kate awoke and stared at the sunlight streaking across her bedroom floor. A square of shadow marred the straight beams of light. She looked at her window and saw something was stuck to a pane. Kate threw off her covers and rushed to her window. She unlocked the latch and pushed up the sash. Humid summer air poured into the room, slinking down the wall and covering everything with a sticky mist.

  Kate reached outside and pulled a taped piece of paper from the glass. She unfolded the creased stationary and held her breath.

  Dear Miss Kate,

  I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I had intended to spend a day with you in the garden, getting to know you better. Nothing turned out as I had planned, and I didn’t even get to see you home. I hope you will forgive the disappointing day and are willing to meet with me again. If you are, a group of us are going to the park this afternoon at two, and I would be happy if you would join us.

  Sincerely Sorry,

  Geoffrey

  Kate read the letter three times before she refolded it, sat on the edge of her bed, and slid the note beneath her pillow. She passed glances toward the hidden note. A group of us, she thought. Who’s us? Would us be his family? His friends? Girls from the neighborhood?

  You can’t possibly go. Just act like this never happened. She wouldn’t have to suffer through the anxiety of declining his offer because she wouldn’t have to see him or call him or write a return response. She could go on with her day and pretend he’d never stood at her darkened window, never thought of her, and never left behind an epistle of apology.

  She sighed and slipped her hand beneath her pillow. The paper felt real enough against her fingers. Perhaps the apology was real as well. Geoffrey had put a lot of effort into saying he was sorry and inviting her to a group outing. She allowed herself a small smile, because regardless of who might comprise this group, Geoffrey wasn’t ashamed to have her join them. It wouldn’t matter if everyone looked at her and believed she had stumbled into the wrong party because Geoffrey would know she belonged there.

  It’s a yes, then?

  Kate dressed, brushed her teeth, and found her mama and daddy still at the breakfast table drinking Maxwell House coffee and eating scrambled eggs and grits.

  “Hey,” she said, “can I go meet some friends at the park today?”

  “Well, good morning to you, too, Little Blackbird,” her daddy said.

  She slid one arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. He smelled like pine trees and cut cedar. “Good morning.”

  Her mama lowered her coffee cup to its saucer. “Who are ‘some friends’?”

  “Martha, probably Charlotte, some other people from their neighborhood. Probably Geoffrey Hamilton…a few of them. His friends.”

  Her daddy’s fork rested against his plate as he stopped eating. “Boys?”

  “Yes, sir.” Kate tried to make eye contact, but his hazel eyes looked at her as though he couldn’t quite figure out who had replaced his daughter with this imposter. What does he see? she wondered.

  His forehead wrinkled, and the hand he rested on the table clenched. “But boys will be there.”

  “Daddy, it’s in the park. Groups go there all the time to have picnics and hang.”

  “But you don’t,” he said.

  “I’m well aware that I’m an awkward nobody and no one ever invites me anywhere, but other kids do this all the time,” Kate said. Her throat tightened. It was one kind of heartbreak to know that kids her own age thought she was uncool, but it was a deeper kind of wound if her parents agreed.

  “Your dad doesn’t mean that,” her mama said.

  He shook his head. “Absolutely not. I only meant that I don’t know how I feel about you being around boys.”

  Kate’s lips
parted and she glanced at her mama. “But I’m around boys all the time at school. We’ll be in public, Daddy. Completely out in the open. During daylight.”

  Her daddy and mama looked at each other. Her daddy’s shoulders lifted in question, and her mama nodded. When her daddy picked up his fork and continued eating, Kate unclenched her fingers.

  “Only if your dad drops you off. No riding your bike into town. At least he can see if he approves of the people in the park.”

  Kate sighed. “Mama, you know these kids. They’re not roughnecks.”

  “Are you sure about that?” she asked.

  “Mama,” Kate said with a small groan.

  Her mama stood from the table and filled a plate of eggs and grits for Kate. She slid the plate in front of Kate along with a cup of steaming lavender tea. “Maybe your goodness will rub off on them.”

  “Oh, yeah, I bet they all want to be just like me,” Kate said, stabbing her scrambled eggs with a fork.

  “You’d be surprised.”

  AS KATE AND her daddy neared the park, Kate’s muscles quivered, and she bounced her knees up and down. The blazing August sun beamed off the hood of the car, making it difficult to see anything in front of them. Her daddy turned onto one of the streets that lined the park, and Kate scanned the grassy area for kids her age. She saw a couple of groups of young people sitting on quilts with picnic baskets weighing down the corners. Two young men threw a football back and forth. The ball sailed from Matthias’ hands, and Geoffrey barely shifted his body at all, catching the pass in his long, thin hands. Matthias’ aim was straight.

  An ankle brace replaced Geoffrey’s white cast, and there were no crutches in sight. Geoffrey’s head turned just as their car approached, and his green eyes found hers. She pressed herself back against the seat and stared at him, feeling the energy as it twirled its way up her spine and dispersed throughout her body like a starburst, shaking her like a tuning fork. Geoffrey lifted his hand in a wave before walking toward them.

  Kate’s daddy slowed the car. She felt her heart slipping up toward her throat, and she swallowed, trying to open up the passageway for air. “You can drop me off here,” she said in a breathless voice.