The Blue Door

by Christa J. Kinde

  Margery lifted the lid on the box, and when she folded back the tissue paper, her eyebrows arched. Seeking Prissie’s gaze, she teasingly asked, “Not an angel?”

  It was a friendly jibe, and a smile flickered across Prissie’s lips. She just shrugged and watched with bated breath as Margery lifted her present for the rest to see.

  “Oooh! So pretty!” enthused Jennifer.

  “Let me see!” exclaimed April, and Margery held the suncatcher up to the light. She smiled at it as it spun, and Prissie’s relief buoyed her mood … right up until Margery opened her last gift.

  The elaborate package coordinated with the decorations, making it obvious that the box was from her parents. Margery’s eyes sparkled with an eager expectation that made Prissie wonder if she’d been promised something specific for her fifteenth birthday. The wrappings fell away, and her squeal of delight was soon taken up by April, then Elise and Jennifer. “What is it?” Prissie asked, craning her neck to see.

  “A cell phone!” Margery exclaimed, clasping the wee bit of technology to her heart, then holding it at arm’s length to give it an adoring look. “Finally! Thanks, Mom!”

  “Who will you call?” quizzed Elise.

  Jennifer bounced and said, “Me first!”

  “Only if I get her first text,” bargained April, a true haggler.

  “Okay,” Margery giggled. “Let me get your numbers entered.”

  Everyone dipped into pockets and purses and produced cells of their own. Margery’s new number was exchanged, photos were taken, and the conversation zipped along, leaving her in the proverbial dust. She idly poked at the icing roses left on her plate and tried to imagine her mother’s reaction if she said she wanted a cell phone. Laughter was pretty high on the list of possibilities, just under flat-out refusal.

  With a soft sigh, Prissie quietly announced, “Be right back.”

  Jennifer was too busy comparing features with Margery to notice, and April was focused on quizzing Mrs. Burke about texting or tweeting or something. Only Elise glanced up from her cell phone. Did she smirk? Prissie wasn’t sure, but she just kept walking.

  Bypassing the powder room, Prissie snuck toward one of her favorite places in the house. Mrs. Burke called it the solarium, which Momma said was just a fancy name for a sunroom. It was airy and bright with a high ceiling, yellow walls, and plant stands in front of every one of the tall windows — like window boxes on the inside of the house.

  Duchess, a regal, long-haired feline with a flat nose and orange eyes, flicked her plumed tail as Prissie tiptoed closer and offered her fingertips to be sniffed. “You’re very different from Tansy,” she murmured softly. “She’s just an ordinary barn cat.” Duchess stood, stretched, leaped from her perch, then stalked out of the room, leaving Prissie alone. The snub stung more than it should have, and she had to take deep breaths to keep from dissolving into angry tears.

  It looked as though her best friend wasn’t anymore. Sitting on the floor, Prissie hugged her knees tight to her chest and tried to ignore the stifling sense of dejection. She didn’t like feeling like an outsider in a place she had always belonged. Groaning softly, she hid her face and wished she could get away. They’d probably never notice she was gone.

  For now, all she could do was get through whatever was left of the afternoon with her dignity intact. But how? Prissie was concentrating so hard that she nearly jumped out of her skin when the doorbell rang. Turning her head, she listened curiously as Mrs. Burke exchanged a few words with someone on the front porch. A moment later, the woman’s voice carried through the house. “Prissie, your escort’s here!”

  Mystified, Prissie slipped out of the solarium and hurried toward the front hall just as Margery and the other girls poked their heads out of the dining room.

  There on the front step, with his hands clasped before him, stood Koji. He leaned forward just enough to peep past Mrs. Burke, avidly studying the ornate chandelier that hung above the curving staircase. As soon as Prissie came into view, he straightened and beamed at her. “I came to get you.”

  They’d made no such arrangement, but she was glad for the out. Flashing an apologetic smile, she said, “I need to go. I’ll see you guys soon.” She nodded to Mrs. Burke and said, “Everything was beautiful. Thank you for having me.” Not stopping to introduce Koji to her friends, she escaped out the front door, which closed on the sound of curious whispers.

  Prissie marched down the cobblestone walk, back rigid. Once they reached the street, she asked, “Is anything wrong?” Koji solemnly searched her face as if unsure how to answer, so she tried again. “Why did you come? Is something wrong at home?”

  “No,” he quickly assured. “All is well. Why are you distressed, Prissie?”

  She was so hurt and angry, she didn’t need any more urging to unburden her heart. As they walked slowly toward the bakery, Prissie told him about all the little slights she’d endured and her fears where Margery was concerned. “I’m her best friend!” she ranted. “How could she do this?”

  “If she is truly your friend, she will not abandon you,” Koji offered.

  “I think she already has,” Prissie replied sourly.

  Koji gazed at her raptly, and Prissie turned her face from his curiosity. There were times when a person didn’t want to be analyzed. However, when he spoke, it wasn’t to pry. “There are many who have known great distress and loneliness because of the faithlessness of one they called friend.”

  “I guess,” she murmured. She couldn’t argue with that, but it didn’t really make her feel any better. She kicked at a pebble on the sidewalk and wondered why life was so unfair.

  “Prissie?” Koji asked tentatively. When she looked his way, he stopped and so did she. “I cannot promise that I will not fail, or that I can be here for always, but while I am here, I will be your friend.”

  “While you’re here?” she asked curiously. “Where else would you be?”

  “Wherever I am sent.” He smiled tentatively and asked, “Is that not enough?”

  For right now, it was, and Prissie nodded gratefully. “It’s almost like you knew I needed to get out of there,” she remarked with a weak laugh.

  “Yes,” he replied solemnly.

  Prissie looked at him keenly. “Why are you here?”

  “I was sent.”

  “Who sent you?”

  “Can you not guess?” he asked cryptically, and began walking again.

  She looked over her shoulder uncomfortably and asked, “My guardian angel?”

  He shook his head. “There was no need to relay messages from one angel to another. He who dwells in you said you needed me, so I am here.”

  Prissie was amazed that Koji could say it as simply as that, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “God told you to pick me up early?” she asked incredulously.

  “Yes.”

  “That was nice of him,” she mumbled.

  “Indeed.”

  Dinner that night almost made up for the afternoon’s drama.

  “Oh, man! This is actually good!” Neil moaned, an expression of ecstasy on his face.

  “You sound surprised,” Tad remarked blandly.

  “You aren’t?” he challenged, shaking his fork at his brother before digging in again.

  “Nope.”

  Zeke squinted at his serving of pie. “Isn’t this one of Grandma’s pies?”

  “No, buddy. This is your sister’s handiwork,” corrected Jayce.

  “But it’s just as good as your grandma’s,” declared Grandpa Pete, giving Prissie a wink.

  “Yeah, it’s actually edible,” commented Beau around a mouthful. Prissie wrinkled her nose at him, and he blinked innocently. “What? It is!”

  Naomi Pomeroy smiled approvingly. “It’s delicious, sweetheart! Is this your recipe for the contest?”

  “I was thinking … maybe?” she replied, a little flustered by all the compliments.

  “Oh, definitely,” retorted Grandma Nell in no-nonsense
tones. “The flavor is outstanding!”

  “Its a winner,” mumbled Neil. “Something’s different about it.”

  Jayce held up his plate to inspect his wedge of pie, whose filling had a definite cast of pink. “Good color, good flavor,” he mused aloud. Catching his daughter’s eye, he added, “I hope you can replicate this!”

  Prissie flushed with pleasure over her father’s compliment. “Yes, I’m sure I can.”

  Neil leaned over to steal a forkful off of Tad’s plate, but his older brother fended him off with a swift elbow to the ribs. Instead, Neil turned to Jude and attempted to wheedle an extra taste off of the six-year-old’s plate. “C’mon, Judicious, please?”

  The youngest Pomeroy smiled sweetly but answered, “No way!”

  Prissie couldn’t recall a single time when something she’d made had been such a big hit. Her brows slowly lifted as her brothers fought over her cooking, and she began to smile, a little giddy over her first real success in the kitchen. Wanting to share her happiness with someone, she glanced at Koji, whose plate was already licked clean. The young angel, who’d been picking up human gestures from her little brothers, cheerfully gave her a thumbs up.

  14

  THE CRAZY DRIVER

  Were you listening, sir?”

  Abner turned from the yahavim who flitted around him, sparing his apprentice a wry glance. “Why do you assume I wasn’t?”

  “It’s usually the case, sir.”

  The silver-haired angel frowned thoughtfully and murmured, “So it is.”

  “Things are stirring, and the girl seems to be at the center of it all.”

  “You cannot see the center if you cannot see the whole,” the Caretaker absently chided. “And it would seem that we have a more pressing problem.”

  “Do we?”

  “Mmm,” Abner hummed in concern. “One of my flock is missing.”

  The Milton County Fair was a long-standing Pomeroy family tradition. According to Grandpa, the fairgrounds were spitting distance from the farthest edge of their property, between them and the sprawling acreage of Sunderland State Park, north and east of town. Prissie had always wondered if you could catch any of the sights and sounds of the fair from their house, but she doubted she’d ever find out. From sunup on the first day until the last fireworks finale, her family practically lived there.

  Every summer during the festivities, Jayce Pomeroy closed up Loafing Around, making the ten-day event a kind of family vacation. Not that they didn’t work. Far from it! Grandpa had staked out a prime location back in the day, so Pomeroy Orchards maintained a presence on one of the fairgrounds’ busiest corners, right in the middle of everything. They were famous for kettle corn and caramel apples, and ever since Jayce had entered the bakery business, they’d added apple turnovers.

  Early on the first day of the fair, Neil helped Grandma Nell manhandle the huge coffee pot into place. Once it was perking, it would lure in the rest of the crews who were still setting up. The weather promised to be gorgeous — bright and clear, with just enough of a breeze to carry the scent of pancakes and sausages from the restaurant run by the Lion’s Club. The only thing that detracted from Prissie’s excitement was the offending presence of her father’s trainee.

  She didn’t appreciate Ransom butting in. The very thought made her angry enough to use a little more force than necessary when putting the big kettle corn scoops into their place at the end of the cooling tray. Ransom glanced over from where he was loading trays of baked goods into a glass display case, but didn’t comment. If nothing else, it gave her the chance to turn up her nose at him.

  “Okay there, Priss?” Tad asked.

  “Grandpa will have a fit if you dent his baby,” Neil remarked warily.

  “I know,” she mumbled irritably. Really, it was all Ransom’s fault.

  Koji had gently pointed out that the teen was putting in a lot of hours helping Jayce and Auntie Lou stay a step ahead of each day’s turnover quota. Prissie grudgingly admitted this was true, but a part of her had hoped that her father would ask her to lend a hand.

  Last night, Dad hadn’t come home until late, and when Momma had gotten them up at the crack of dawn, Prissie had wished she was more like Koji, who didn’t need to sleep. Tad plodded along as usual, but then her oldest brother really only had one speed. Still, she could tell he was sleepy, and Neil’s contagious yawns weren’t helping.

  Beau and Koji trudged past, sharing the handle of an old red wagon loaded with boxes of popcorn that were to be stacked against the far wall of their booth. They’d already made several trips, bringing the oil, salt, and the special powdered glaze they needed for whenever Grandpa took it into his head to do a batch of caramel corn. The young angel’s gaze darted around, trying to take in everything at once. Catching Prissie’s eye, he smiled brightly. “This is exciting!”

  “Can you believe he’s never been to a fair before?” Beau announced to the rest of the group.

  “No kidding?” Neil remarked in surprise.

  “Make sure you show him around,” Grandma Nell urged, including each of her grandchildren in a sweeping gaze.

  “Thank you very much!” Koji exclaimed, then followed Beau back toward the van to get another load of supplies.

  “Weird kid,” remarked Neil.

  Prissie gave him a scolding look. “That’s not nice.”

  “He obviously grew up with different traditions,” Grandma Nell said in a quelling tone.

  Neil ruffled his blond hair with a chagrined expression. “I didn’t mean anything by it. He’s just a little … I dunno.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” interjected Ransom, whose gaze followed the young angel. “So where’s he from, anyhow?” Prissie froze and glanced nervously at the teen. He noticed and quirked one brow at her. “You don’t know?”

  “I do,” she retorted.

  Nell Pomeroy calmly answered, “His paperwork said he’s from the Northern Marianas.”

  “Where’s that?” Prissie asked in surprise.

  “They’re islands in the Pacific Ocean,” her grandmother explained. “It’s halfway around the world, but they speak English … which is why we haven’t had to deal with a language barrier.”

  “Oh,” she managed, realizing that Koji would have to have a cover story. Random kids didn’t just show up on people’s doorsteps. As Prissie puzzled this out, she happened to look in Ransom’s direction. He looked the same as usual in jeans and a T-shirt, though he also wore a plain white apron like the kind her dad used when he was at work. The addition struck her as odd, until her dad showed up, hauling a cooler. Ransom snapped to attention so fast, he practically saluted. “Can I help you with that, sir?” he inquired.

  “No need,” Jayce replied amiably. “Did you finish loading that case already?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  Prissie was annoyed. In class, Ransom always acted so carelessly, far more interested in making people laugh than in anything the teachers had to say. Yet here he was, falling all over himself to impress her dad. Someone who was supposedly up until midnight icing turnovers had no right to be so energetic, and a non-family member shouldn’t be so enthusiastic about their booth. She watched him closely, and when the opportunity presented itself, she confronted him. “Aren’t you tired?” she blurted.

  Ransom shrugged and said, “I’m okay. What do you care?”

  “I don’t!” she protested. “I was just wondering.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, for your information, I’m a morning person.”

  She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Since when?”

  If any of her brothers had been on the receiving end of this look and tone, they knew enough to back down, but Ransom was either very brave or very stupid. He did that funny little eyebrow quirk again. “Since always. I’ve been up early for a paper route since I was twelve, and I run in the mornings.”

  “You run?”

  “Yep.”

  “You’re not on our track team,” Prissie
argued.

  “Nope. That was at my old school, before… .” He hesitated, then crossed his arms over his chest and finished, “Before I moved here. Satisfied?”

  Prissie wasn’t satisfied, but she was ready to be done. “If I were you, I’d go home,” she snapped.

  He snorted quietly. “I knew you were bossy, Miss Priss, but I didn’t know you were lazy.”

  As Ransom sauntered off, Neil snickered into his sleeve, and she rounded on him instead. The fact that her older brother dove for cover only partially soothed her ruffled feathers. Her archnemesis had forced his way into her world, and she was certain it would ruin everything she loved about the fair.

  Momma was the one who insisted that the day Prissie turned in her pie at the judging booth should also be her first free day, and she was grateful for her mother’s foresight. She was suffering from a bad case of nerves, knowing that the judges would soon be tasting her entry. It made her jumpy just thinking about it.

  Prissie doubted she could have remained in the confines of the booth without exploding like so much popcorn. So instead, Momma turned her loose on the fairgrounds, but not alone. She was secretly thankful that she had a readymade distraction in the form of her youngest brother, Jude. Taking Jude’s small, sturdy hand in hers, Prissie asked, “What first?”

  “Can we check on Maddie?” he asked hopefully.

  They crossed to the far end of the fairgrounds where the barns were arranged in neat rows. Beyond these was an open field backed by a steep, forested ridge that was fenced off — the boundary of Sunderland State Park.

  Inside the poultry barn, she and Jude made their way along the wide aisles lined with wire cages. There were all kinds of chickens clucking and crowing in concert. Further along, the ducks, geese, and a handful of turkeys added to the cacophony. Grandpa had obviously been around earlier, for their ducks and chickens — including Maddie — had already been cared for, and their eggs had been collected.