The Spirit of Cattail County

by Victoria Piontek

  Sparrow skidded to a stop in front of the drugstore. As she scanned the cars parked along Main Street, her heart pounded against her chest, struggling to adjust to the sudden change in pace. When she saw no sign of Auntie Geraldine’s Buick, she felt an instant wave of relief. She’d made it.

  She took a few deep breaths to slow her racing heart and pushed open the door to Long’s. The bell at the top of the door rang softly, and the AC blasted her with an arctic breeze that felt divine against her hot, sticky skin.

  Sparrow let the AC cool her for a couple of minutes and then started to make her way to the back of the store.

  Long’s was more than just a drugstore. It sold a lot of different things folks in Beulah might need in a pinch, like milk, eggs, and batteries. It also sold things kids liked. It had a rack of books and comics, bins of candy sold by weight, and cheap toys that broke after a day. From eleven to two, Monday through Saturday, they served lunch. Long’s was such a multipurpose location, Sparrow hadn’t even known Long’s Drugs actually sold medicine until Mama got sick. After that, she couldn’t think of it as anything other than a drugstore.

  Long’s divided its services into four tidy sections. It devoted the front of the store to the lunch counter. This ran along one side of the building near a row of four booths with red, cushiony seats. Across from the booths, a series of well-ordered shelves held groceries, and behind the dry goods, the kids’ area spanned a horizontal row that ran parallel to the pharmacy counter.

  Even though it was always busy at lunchtime, the place was unusually packed. Tourist and flea market folks filled the booths and sat at the lunch counter.

  Miss Ruby maneuvered past Sparrow with a tray of burgers, and then paused to look at Sparrow. “You walk through the swamp to get here?”

  Sparrow pushed her sweaty hair off her face. “Ran all the way from the flea market. It’s hotter than the sun out there.”

  “Ah, the energy and folly of the young,” Miss Ruby mused. “How’d it go with the fortune-teller?”

  “Amazing, like you said.” Knowing that Mama was trying to contact her made Sparrow feel twinkly, like she was dancing with fireflies.

  Miss Ruby shifted the tray of burgers. “Tell me all about it when I’m not so busy.”

  “You got it.” Sparrow ducked under Miss Ruby’s tray and went to the kids’ section, where she could wait out of the way of the hustle and bustle of the lunch rush.

  She stopped at the book carousel and slowly spun it around, looking at the novels for sale as if she could afford one.

  Sparrow didn’t know where she would get twenty dollars for a more in-depth reading. Money had always been a problem for Mama and Sparrow. Mama never made Sparrow feel deprived for basics, but there rarely seemed to be quite enough to make ends meet. The Daltons had standing in the community because they were a founding family, but they hadn’t had money in generations.

  Auntie Geraldine might dress ritzy, drive a nice car, and own her own house in Havisham, but Sparrow knew those were leftovers from better days. Auntie Geraldine used to be married to a businessman, but he died. Auntie Geraldine cherished all of her belongings from her time with her husband and took great care to keep them pristine, especially her Buick.

  Sparrow had gone through one complete spin of the book carousel when Maeve and Johnny burst through the front door of Long’s and dashed toward the kids’ section.

  Maeve and Johnny ran past her and slid behind the candy bins like they were stealing home plate. They ducked out of sight. Then Maeve popped out again, grabbed Sparrow by the arm, and yanked her behind the bins.

  “Get down.” Maeve pulled Sparrow into a crouch.

  Sparrow tore her arm from Maeve’s grip. “What in the world are you doing?”

  “Ansley and Andrew,” Maeve hissed.

  Sparrow peeked over the candy bins. “So? They’re not even out there.”

  Maeve jerked her down again. “But they’re coming.”

  While Sparrow preferred to avoid the twins because of their unpleasant natures, she didn’t usually hide from them. “Who cares if they see me?”

  Maeve rolled her eyes. “You would if you had any sense.”

  “Those two have been tracking us all over town ever since …” Johnny trailed off.

  Maeve took up the story. “You know, the baseball game the other day … at your house. They put word out that they’re going to pay us back good. Normally we wouldn’t be running, but …” Maeve shook her head. “Lordy, our uncle was mad. Said if we stirred up any more trouble we’d be scrubbing out grease spots at the 76 station for the rest of the summer.”

  Maeve and Johnny’s uncle Mason worked at the one-pump gas station near the flea market.

  “He said you’d be scrubbing out grease spots for the rest of the summer. I don’t recall him saying anything about me,” Johnny countered. “I wasn’t the one fighting like a tomcat, remember?”

  Maeve glared at her brother. “Us running has made them brave.”

  Just then, the bell over the top of the door chimed. Maeve, Johnny, and Sparrow peered over the candy bins.

  Maeve pointed at the twins, who were standing near the lunch counter. “If you’re so confident Uncle Mason was only talkin’ to me, go over there and take care of things so we can enjoy the rest of the summer.”

  Johnny ignored his sister and scanned the store. “Back door.” Johnny pointed past the pharmacy counter toward the hall that led to the bathrooms.

  Sparrow knew Long’s had a back door, but it never occurred to her she’d have reason to use it.

  “Come on.” Maeve crouched low, and crab-walked to the hallway.

  Johnny followed and then turned to Sparrow. “Are you coming?”

  Sparrow was taken aback. She kept up with the endless skirmishes and battles that defined life for Beulah kids, but she’d never been a participant before. “Do you think they’re out to get me too?”

  “You picked sides and it wasn’t theirs,” Johnny said. “You want to wait here to find out?”

  “No. I don’t,” Sparrow said, and followed Johnny. She hadn’t consciously picked sides the night of Mama’s funeral. She had defended the Castos because the Monroes cheated and it was the right thing to do, but she liked being lumped in with them even if it meant she was on the run from the Monroes.

  Once Maeve, Johnny, and Sparrow escaped out the back door, none of them seemed to know what to do next. The three kids stood around, awkwardly looking at each other.

  “I guess I’ll see you two later.” Sparrow gave them a wave and turned to leave. She wasn’t sure how far this newly formed alliance went, but she didn’t think it included joining the Castos as they roamed Beulah on a summer afternoon. Besides, Auntie Geraldine would be back for her soon.

  She was walking away when the back door flew open.

  “RUN!” Maeve shouted, and took off with Ansley hot on her heels.

  Johnny and Andrew looked at each other for a half second before Johnny said, “Darn it,” and charged toward Sparrow. As he raced past, he grabbed Sparrow’s shirtsleeve and pulled her in the opposite direction of Maeve’s retreat. “COME ON!”

  Sparrow saw Maeve disappear around the far corner of Long’s with Ansley right behind her. Divide and conquer seemed to be the Castos’ strategy for keeping free of the twins’ clutches. Sparrow agreed wholeheartedly with their tactic and put all her effort into running.

  Though small, Sparrow ran fast, and once she started sprinting, few kids in their grade could catch her. To her total surprise, Johnny matched her step by step. She hadn’t known he could run fast. She’d never seen a Casto run before. They usually stood their ground.

  When she couldn’t hear Andrew’s footsteps on their heels anymore, Sparrow looked behind her.

  Andrew had stopped quite a ways back. He stood hunched over with his hands on his knees, huffing and puffing. While Andrew excelled at football and baseball, sports that required brute strength, his size worked against him in a footrace.
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  Sparrow and Johnny kept running until Andrew’s hulking form shrank to gnat size and then they slowed to a jog.

  Their mad dash had taken them all the way down Main Street and onto the old country road that ran out toward Sparrow’s house.

  Suddenly, Johnny stopped cold.

  “Are you worried about Maeve?” Sparrow wondered if Johnny regretted separating from his sister. Divide and conquer had its advantages, but also its drawbacks. Johnny and Sparrow had escaped Andrew, but now Maeve might be running around Beulah with two fuming Monroes in pursuit instead of one.

  “Nah, that girl’s tougher and has more lives than a feral cat. It’s just …”

  Johnny trailed off and Sparrow realized where they were—the little roadside cemetery … where Mama was buried.

  Sparrow walked across the field of green grass dotted with tiny headstones, and Johnny trailed silently behind her. A hot breeze blew. The trees overhead quivered, making sunlight dapple across her face, and she felt the touch of spirits. Their presence alighted on her skin, like dew on grass.

  Only a few locations in Beulah attracted spirits—the quiet, shady lane next to the 76 station, the dark corner of the marsh at the bend just before town, and the tiny graveyard. These places drew them like moths to a flame. The entities that collected in these spots were fragile, fleeting creatures that had little in common with the Boy.

  The Boy seemed to be a different species altogether. Unlike those fragile, smoky wisps, he thrived. Unbound to place, he did not shudder and sway with the wind but endured in a form so solid he practically lived. If he could only speak to Sparrow, he’d cross the one divide that separated them.

  The Boy gave Sparrow a glimpse of what could be, and she latched on to the prospect like a life preserver. Being in the cemetery flooded Sparrow with grief. Memories of Mama’s casket being lowered into the ground hit Sparrow like a set of waves, pummeling her over and over again with an unrelenting force that threatened to pull her under. When Mama found a way to be like the Boy, Sparrow wouldn’t have to hurt so much anymore. Most days, Sparrow’s chest felt so tight with the ache in her heart she could barely breathe.

  Sparrow wove through the headstones until she reached Mama’s spot. It wasn’t hard to find. Diminutive and weather worn, the cemetery’s size reflected the town it served. Mama’s freshly dug grave, with its mound of brown dirt, stood in stark contrast to the green grass all around.

  A tombstone marked her grave now. It hadn’t been there the day of the funeral. Auntie Geraldine must have arranged it. Sparrow leaned close to read the words etched in stone. Lilly Dalton, Beloved Daughter, Devoted Sister, Loving Mother, Sweet Soul Taken Too Soon.

  It seemed perfect and too simple at the same time. It summed up Mama’s traits, but in life, she encompassed so much more than those lines implied. The words didn’t capture the warmth and safety Sparrow felt when wrapped in one of her hugs or the sound of her voice when she sang along to the country hymns that played on the radio while she cooked.

  She wished she’d known they were running this way. She would have brought Mama flowers for her grave.

  “That’s real nice,” Johnny said quietly.

  Sparrow nodded, biting her lip to keep the tears from falling. She sometimes worried that if she cried she’d make it harder for Mama to come back, as if crying for her cemented her fate, and Sparrow refused to be the lock that barred the door. “I guess it is.”

  Sparrow sat down on the grass.

  Johnny sat next to her. “My uncle Mason’s eyes have been red-rimmed all week.”

  “Why?” Sparrow asked, surprised.

  “Because of your mama. I bet you didn’t know they were good friends when they were kids. They even dated for a time.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Sparrow said, genuinely taken aback by this news. She couldn’t imagine it. She’d never heard of Castos and Daltons being friends. Auntie Geraldine hated the Castos almost as much as she hated Dalton House. If friendship between Castos and Daltons sounded like stretched truth, then dating sounded like a tall tale. As far as Castos went, Mason stood a cut above the rest, but it didn’t change the fact that Casto blood colored his veins. In Beulah, family name rose above all else, like salt froth on a wave.

  “Yep, they did. According to Uncle Mason, they fell in love at the flea market while digging through a box of old gospel records.”

  “My mama adored hymns.” Sparrow envisioned a younger Mama falling in love because of music. She could imagine it. “How long ago was this?”

  “Not sure exactly. Before all of us, but I think it’s why he had this.” Johnny reached into his back pocket and pulled out a faded picture. He handed it to Sparrow.

  The picture was of Mama. She looked a lot younger and almost too different to recognize, but Sparrow could still see the hints of the familiar features that would age into the face she knew so well.

  In the photograph, Mama leaned against an old pickup truck at the flea market. She flipped the picture over. An inscription on the back read Love never says goodbye.

  “Maeve and I felt real bad about the other day. When we saw this, we thought you might like to have it.”

  “Thanks,” Sparrow whispered. It was the nicest thing anyone had done for her since Mama died. The Castos were full of surprises. “Will your uncle miss it?”

  Johnny shrugged. “Probably. But there are so many kids running around our house no one can keep nothing safe. He won’t know we took it to give to you.”

  “Thanks.” Sparrow felt grateful to have this hint at a part of Mama’s life she didn’t know anything about.

  “Um … there’s something else,” Johnny said, a bit nervous. “You really don’t know who your daddy is, right?”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

  “You don’t believe all that bunk about your daddy being the swamp, do ya?”

  Sparrow didn’t know what she believed. Sometimes she wondered if it could be true. After all, her only friend was a ghost. Her father might as well be the swamp. She didn’t share these thoughts with Johnny, though. Beulah considered her strange enough already. If she confessed she sometimes wondered if Mama had conjured her from the very swamp itself, they’d lock her up.

  “No. Mama didn’t like to talk about it, so I didn’t pry. It didn’t seem right somehow. People were always whispering behind her back. I wanted to be on her side. Besides, I didn’t need a daddy. I had Mama.”

  Johnny nodded solemnly. She could tell he knew all about sticking by family when the town ganged up against them. “Maeve and I were talking. You know how my uncle has been pretty torn up about your mama dying and everything?”

  “Yeah, you said.”

  “Well, he left town about ten years ago.”

  “Sure. Everyone knows that.” Sparrow watched a thin mist swirl around Johnny, glide away, and then come back again. The spirits seemed to like him.

  “Well …”

  “Tell her already.” Both Sparrow and Johnny jumped at the sound of Maeve’s voice behind them.

  They twisted around to look at Maeve. Aside from her eyeliner smeared into black streaks below her eyes and her red hair darkened by sweat, she looked no worse for wear. Sparrow guessed she’d outrun Ansley and then doubled back to find them.

  Maeve smacked her brother on the head. “Way to keep up your guard. If I’d been Andrew, I’d have caught you and given you a thrashing before you realized what happened.”

  “Tell me what?” Sparrow asked.

  Maeve plopped down beside her brother and the spirits surrounding him scattered like a flock of birds. “We think our uncle Mason is your daddy.”

  “What?” For a moment, the world tilted. Maeve’s crazy proclamation made Sparrow feel like everything she thought she knew had been thrown off-kilter. All the words Beulah called the Castos behind their backs, but she had never believed, came to Sparrow—cheats, good-for-nothings, liars. Sparrow narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Maeve. “Why do you think that?”
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  “Because”—Maeve started counting things out on her fingers—“he left about ten years ago, before you were born, he came back when your mama got sick, and he’s been crying over her ever since.”

  It was true, Mason had only recently moved back to Beulah. The town gossips said he’d left to seek his fortune in the oil business. Now he worked at the local 76 station.

  Sparrow didn’t know if he’d made his fortune or not, but she doubted it. She wouldn’t work at Beulah’s one-pump gas station if she had a fortune sitting in the bank.

  “Those are a bunch of coincidences.” Sparrow looked less like a Casto than she did a Dalton.

  “Yeah, but he had the picture.” Maeve pointed to the photograph in Sparrow’s hand. “Did you read the back?”

  Sparrow flipped the picture over. “Love never says goodbye,” she said, reading the inscription out loud.

  “That’s right. We think because your mama was a Dalton and Uncle Mason a Casto … you know that wasn’t goin’ to go over well. We think he left Beulah because he wanted to prove himself worthy of marrying a Dalton. If he made a lot of money and became a rich Casto … well, there’s no shame in marrying rich, is there? Casto or no.”

  “Seems far-fetched. Why would it be such a big secret that my own mama wouldn’t tell me?” Sparrow didn’t like the idea that Mama might have kept this secret from her. If Mason Casto was her daddy, then she should be the one telling Maeve and Johnny the truth about him, not the other way around.

  “Pretty, perfect Lilly Dalton falling in love with a Casto? You think your family would ever want the town to know about that?” Maeve crossed her arms in a challenge.

  Sparrow wanted to deny it, but Maeve spoke the truth. Daltons didn’t marry Castos in Beulah. Marrying a rich Casto might even be a stretch.

  “I don’t look like a Casto.” Sparrow put her tanned arm next to Maeve’s sun-scorched one. During the summer months, Maeve’s skin flamed an angry red as if whipped, while Sparrow’s olive complexion simply deepened.