Back on the Map

by Lisa Ann Scott

  That would certainly be a fine addition. “Great!” Things were going so well, we’d have this place open for a buyer in no time. Thank goodness the doom painting I found hadn’t ruined things here. Glad I didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

  When I left the building, I caught a glimpse of Joe working by himself in the corner, cutting off big branches from the tree where he was going to build the house. Seemed like that tree was glowing, like it was promising good things to come. But I felt bad that Joe was alone, so I wandered over to say hi before I got to work on my super-sized critters.

  “Can’t believe I’m finally doing this,” he said. “Building the tree house. I’ve wished for a long time that I could make things right here, and suddenly it seems like maybe I can. I don’t know if I’ll ever earn everybody’s forgiveness, but if I could see this place thriving, I’d be a happy man again.”

  I wanted that for him, almost as much as I wanted a home. “Were you happy when you lived here at the orphanage?”

  He leaned against the tree. “Yes. It was great. Our caretakers were kind and loving. Accepted us, despite our … talents. And the children all got along. Everyone in town was wonderful to us, donating old clothes and food. Leaving presents at Christmastime. That’s why it was so sad when the orphanage closed. It was like the heart of the town stopped beating.”

  And it started back up for a while when people thought it was going to reopen, I thought. “If you lived here as a kid, how did you end up with the Clarks?”

  He threw another big branch onto a pile. “I was seventeen when the orphanage closed. Most of the younger kids were adopted by families in other communities. The Clarks’ oldest child had just moved out, so they adopted me. I was so surprised they went through the whole process, even though I was almost an adult. But they wanted me to always have a home.”

  My heart squeezed a bit. That’s the kind of family I wanted. “Where are they now?”

  “They were older when they adopted me. To be honest, I think they also needed help around the house, help with the business. I learned a trade, and it was nice to have a place to go.” He looked down at the ground and his voice softened. “They both died within two years of adopting me, though. I’ve been in that big old house by myself ever since.”

  Made me sad. Joe had been orphaned twice. “Where did Wren go when the orphanage closed?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Thought you weren’t going to ask about him.”

  “The conversation just kind of took us there.” I crossed my fingers, hoping I could keep him talking.

  He studied a stick he was holding. “He was seventeen, too. We were both just about to graduate. No one stepped forward to adopt him, so he stayed with me and the Clarks.”

  “Do you think he met a girl with red hair staying here for the summer?”

  He opened and closed his mouth a few times before speaking. “I don’t know everything he was doing. And you’re taking me back to a difficult time. Let’s just leave the past where it is. Wren and I were great friends, and then we fought.” He broke his stick in half.

  I nodded. “Sorry things ended that way.” I paused, hoping he’d say more, but he didn’t. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I left him by the tree and spent some time searching for all the right parts for my giant tin can critters.

  Around dinnertime, I found Parker so we could walk home together. He hadn’t said a word to me since our fight about finding Wren.

  We walked in silence until I said, “I’m sorry you’re mad at me, but I’m just trying to keep us together. I have to look after you, and how can I do that if we get split up in foster homes?”

  “Thought we were going to live in the wild if that happened, instead.” He shrugged. “Might be fun.”

  Easy for him to say. He wouldn’t have to do all the planning and worrying. “Maybe. But I still think finding our daddy is important. Even if it’s just to learn a few things about him.”

  “Like what?” he asked.

  “We know Mama was Irish and German. That’s where her people came from. But what about our dad? He could be anything.” I felt like a puzzle with a few pieces forever missing. And who wants a puzzle like that? The picture would never be complete.

  Parker stopped walking. “Penny, I’d rather not know where he is than know he doesn’t want us. And maybe I’m old enough now that I don’t need you taking care of me or telling me what to do. I want to be the boss of me.”

  I was so stunned I didn’t know what to say.

  He ran off toward the house without me, and I trudged along, wondering why I was working so hard to keep us together when he didn’t seem to care one bit.

  CHAPTER 13

  When I finally got home, I hurried to the mailbox just like I’d been doing every day since I sent my letter. And this time, there was a letter addressed to me from the map company. I sat on the front porch steps and ripped it open.

  Dear Miss Porter,

  Thank you for your interest in our maps. Our latest map will be released on July 1st and available in stores near you.

  Sincerely,

  David Charter, CEO Charter Maps

  That was four weeks away. But he didn’t even say a word about the Finest or adding New Hope. I unfolded a small sheet of paper folded up inside the note.

  Dear Penny,

  Thanks for your letter. We only include cities and towns of a certain size on our maps and others with particular interest to our customers. Sounds like you’ve got a very exciting project going on. I’d love to see a picture when you’re done! Good luck! I’ll send you a complimentary copy of our map when it’s released.

  Sheila Blakeley,

  Secretary to CEO David Charter

  She probably wanted the picture to show to the president and prove we deserved to be on the map! I walked inside, waving the letter. “Parker, the new map comes out July first. We’ve got four more weeks to get back on the map.” That’s when I noticed Parker was sitting on the couch by himself. “Where’s Grauntie?” I asked.

  “Back in my bedroom,” she hollered. “I need your help.”

  Parker and I shared a concerned look, then headed her way, even though we usually weren’t allowed in her room.

  The door was open so we stepped inside, my toes disappearing in her shaggy, pink rug. “What is it?”

  Grauntie was emptying her big glass display cases. “Mr. Gaiser called and said you kids were fixing up New Hope’s Finest.” Her eyes were wide and full of color.

  “Yes, so we can find a new buyer to finally open it,” I explained.

  “I want you to take my snow globe collection down there and put it on display.” She stuffed a globe into a box and added the box to the pile of them on the floor next to her.

  “Are you sure? You love those so much.” Plus, what would I do with several hundred snow globes? I needed to get rid of stuff, not bring more down there!

  “The world should be able to enjoy them. Who knows how long I’ll be kicking around, anyway?”

  “Don’t say that.” I felt a shock of fear. If Grauntie was gone, we’d be gone, too.

  “No one in my family has lived longer than eighty, so I’m already pushing the envelope on my, my … longevity,” she replied.

  “All right. We can take them down there for you.” I watched her work for a minute. Grauntie didn’t seem as grumpy as usual, so I thought I’d take a chance. “Did anyone ever tell you who our daddy is?”

  She sat on her bed with a Christmas snow globe on her lap. “No. Nobody knew. Your mama wouldn’t say who he was. I didn’t see her too often after that summer she stayed here. Her grandma, my sister, and I didn’t always see eye to eye. Years would go by without us talking.”

  “Do you think it could be that boy you told us about, Wren?” My heart fluttered just thinking about it.

  “The bird boy?” She shrugged. “Never saw her with anybody. She never mentioned anyone.” Grauntie took a good long time to get back to her feet,
then brushed her hands together. “That railing on the back steps is loose. We need someone to fix it.”

  “I’ll make sure it gets done,” I said.

  Parker and I left the room, and I set both my hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eye. “I know you can find Wren if you try.”

  Parker stepped back. “I told you, stop bossing me around.”

  “Do I have to get Mama’s letter out and read it to remind you who’s in charge?” I asked. I hated being mean, but this was for our own good. For both of us.

  “You can read the letter, but you can’t make me look for him.”

  He was right. I couldn’t make him. I’d have to try something different to convince Parker to help me. “All right. Then help me fix the railing on the back steps,” I said.

  “Shouldn’t we ask Mr. Gaiser to do it for a trade?”

  “I’ve been pestering him too much for help. And I had to beg him to keep working on the Finest, even though Joe is there. He might get mad if I ask him for one more thing.”

  “Then how are we going to fix it?”

  “You’re not going to like this, but we’re going to use the glue. Just plug your nose while you’re helping me.”

  I got the glue and had Parker hold the railing against the house while I squeezed out a big lump of it. When the rail was glued in place, I stood back and looked at it. “That should be fine,” I said with a nod.

  Since Parker wouldn’t help find Wren, the next morning he went to the Finest, and I headed to the diner. I didn’t want to bother Joe with more questions and scare him off. But maybe the Carlsons would know about Wren.

  The bells on the door jangled as I walked inside. I sat at the counter, and Mrs. Carlson came out from the kitchen, cradling a cup of coffee in her hands. “I’m surprised to see you here. It’s not lunchtime yet. Why aren’t you working at the site?” She took a sip of her drink.

  I paused for a moment, not quite sure how to explain what I wanted to know. “Since I’ve been spending so much time at the Finest, I’ve just been wondering about all those kids who lived at the orphanage. Joe doesn’t like to talk about it much. But I heard they were … special. Did you know any of them?”

  She smiled. “Of course. The diner was a popular place for them to hang out. Especially the teenagers.”

  “Did you know any of the teenagers? Maybe someone named Wren?”

  She paused, then shook her head. “That name doesn’t sound familiar. Why do you ask?”

  “Joe mentioned him, that’s all. I’m curious what the kids around here were like.” I took a deep breath. “I just found out my Mama stayed here one summer with my Grauntie. The summer the orphanage closed. I’m trying to figure out who might have known her. Did you ever meet her? She had hair the same color as mine, and her name was Darlene.”

  “Your mother lived here? I’m sorry to say I don’t think I met her. Not that I remember, anyway.” She studied her mug for a moment, turning it ’round and ’round on the counter. “That was quite a while ago. Must be hard, not having a mother.”

  I swallowed hard. “It’s fine. We don’t have a daddy, either. We’re used to it by now. We get by.” I suppose saying words like that would have hurt someone else’s heart. But not the way mine was all boarded up. The truths just bounced right off it. I stood up to leave. “I should get back. It’s too bad you can’t come see how much work we’ve done.”

  “You be careful over there.” One corner of her mouth curled up. “Stay out of those trees, now.”

  I laughed. “I will.”

  Disappointed that I hadn’t learned anything new from Mrs. Carlson, I decided to stop by the mayor’s office to ask Miss Meriwether about Wren, but she wasn’t in. Mr. Gaiser said he didn’t know him, either.

  It was like Wren was a ghost.

  CHAPTER 14

  The library was across the street from the mayor’s office, so I headed there to see if there were any articles about the orphanage closing. Maybe a newspaper story would mention some of the kids and I could learn something—anything—about Wren.

  The librarian, Miss Mullins, looked up when I walked inside the cool, dark building. She set down her book. “Why, hello. How may I help you? Haven’t had a visitor here in days.”

  “Maybe ’cause so many folks are working over at the Finest, fixing it all up.”

  She nodded. “I heard about that. It would be nice to see things work out, but they probably won’t. That’s how it goes around here, you know.”

  I sighed. “You might change your mind once you see it.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Since I’ve been working over there, I was hoping to find some information about the orphanage closing down.”

  She stood and smoothed her skirt. “I’m sure we still have some articles from the old New Hope Weekly Crier.”

  “New Hope had a newspaper?” I asked.

  “A weekly edition. Stopped printing quite a few years back. Any copies would be on microfiche. I’ll get you set up.” Miss Mullins went into a back room and returned with a box of film reels. She searched through the box and picked one out. “This has copies of the paper from the spring and summer of 1971. That’s when the orphanage closed.”

  I followed her to a small room with a big viewer on a table. She put the film on a spool and flipped on a switch. The pages of the newspaper were magnified, glowing on the screen. “Turn this crank on the right to flip through the pages.”

  “Thanks!” I settled in a chair and she left the room. I turned the crank, flipping through the past. The Weekly Crier was filled with ads for businesses around town. Mr. Gaiser had hammers on sale the week of April 11th. The Carlsons’ diner had a roast beef platter special.

  Then I found an article titled ORPHANAGE CLOSING AFTER FIFTY YEARS. There was a picture of the building with a few kids standing in front of it. But I didn’t see anyone with freckles like mine. “ ‘It’s a sad day,’ said orphanage director Tom Perkins,” I read in the article. “ ‘We’re not the only orphanage falling victim to budget cuts. But I doubt any town will miss their children as much as we’ll miss ours.’ ”

  It was almost like I could feel the sadness that must’ve washed across the town.

  I read over a few more articles, all of them reciting the facts I already knew, but I saw no mention of Wren, and no quotes from him, either. Dang.

  I scrolled through more pages and found an article titled NEW HOPE FOR THE CLOSED ORPHANAGE? It talked about plans to turn the building into a grand attraction. I read the article twice, and I could see why people had gotten so excited. The Donovan brothers, the developers chosen to take on the project, promised it would bring visitors from far and wide and change the town forever. But I didn’t learn anything new, and there was nothing about Wren or Joe being involved.

  I skipped past a few more ads, then I froze. LOCAL GIRL STRUCK AND KILLED, I read. There was a big picture of a beautiful little girl with puffy pigtails tied up in thick yarn bows. “Mary Carlson, Age 11,” read the caption underneath her photo.

  I leaned closer, blinking back tears as I read. “Mary Carlson was struck by a car exiting New Hope’s orphanage on July 25th. Police are not charging the driver, Michael Hope, stating that it was a tragic accident. Please note, Carlsons’ Diner is closed until further notice.”

  Things must’ve been really bad for the Carlsons for them to just close up their restaurant like that. They’d never been closed a day in all the time I’d lived there. I scrolled ahead, looking for news about when they’d reopened, but I didn’t see anything. And I didn’t see any other stories about the orphanage. I left the library with no new information about Wren or where he might be. My heart felt heavier with each dead end.

  I’d been doing so much investigating, I missed lunch, and I didn’t get over to the Finest until the afternoon. Thank goodness lots of people were already working. Some were painting murals on new sections of fence. Others were making a huge robot sculpture out of soda cans. Jenny Gray was there, too, painting one
of the bedrooms purple. Now that her own color was blooming brighter, I could see she was wearing purple, too.

  “I’m going to fill this room with purple things!” she said. “Spread the word, anyone with something purple can put it on display here.”

  “I will!” Now that I could see it, I was really impressed by her colors. Everything she wore was a nice, glowing purple. “Say, did you know any of the kids who used to live here?”

  “Went to school with a few of them,” she said. “But I didn’t know any of them well.” She was much older than Joe, so she couldn’t have gone to school with him and Wren.

  “Any of them still live in town? Besides Joe?”

  She stopped to think. “I don’t think so.”

  “Someone named Wren?”

  She thought for a minute. “Never knew anyone by that name.”

  Ugh. The Finest was coming right along, but I was getting nowhere in my search for Wren. And I didn’t want to chase away Joe with more of my questions.

  Parker and Chase spent most of the afternoon unloading Grauntie’s snow globes in one of the second floor bedrooms, then going back to Grauntie’s to bring back more. Took us five trips, and then I helped organize the snow globes in the room. Some were holiday-themed, and some had the names and landmarks of different cities inside.

  Mr. Gaiser came up with the idea to build shelves in one room to display them all, and even donated supplies from his store to make them. “Once I’m finished with these, we can work on that welding project of yours, Penny.”

  When I went outside, a line of kids was filing into the building. Some were in my grade; others were older, some younger. I held up my hand, and the boy at the front of the pack came my way. The other kids followed. Must have been a dozen of them.

  “We wanted to see if it was true that you were fixing this place up,” the kid said. “I’m Nick.”