Fly Like a Bird

by Jana Zinser

  “Luther said Ellen saw Carly over at Conrad’s. I’m going to go get Carly back, one way or the other. Luther says we need the element of surprise to get her before midnight.”

  “Be careful. Miles and Conrad both got a powerful hate.”

  “So do I.” Ivy tied up her black boots and looked Violet in the eye. “Grandma, there may be some trouble over this.”

  Grandma patted Ivy’s cheek. “A child is worth some trouble.”

  Ivy went the back way, so she wouldn’t go past Conrad’s place, and pulled into Luther’s dirt driveway. His barking dogs, Rosie’s old friends, announced her arrival.

  Luther answered the door before she knocked, motioning her inside the house without a word. The broken door banged shut behind them and the dogs jumped up and down like grasshoppers in a summer field. Ivy held out her hands for them to sniff. “Hey, wild dogs. It’s just me.”

  The dogs licked her hands as she stood beside the worn-out couch covered with cat hair and pieces of dog food. There was a cat sleeping on the statue of baby Jesus lying on the floor, stolen from the church manger many years before.

  “So, Luther, what happened?”

  Luther’s greasy hair stuck out in every direction like a scarecrow pecked by birds. “The dogs were barking like crazy and I went outside to see what in tarnation was going on this time. Ellen came skittering out of the woods, pointing to Conrad’s place and ranting about how the snake’s got your girl.”

  He nodded and lowered his voice. “So, I snuck over and looked in every one of his windows. Didn’t see nothing. But there was a light on in that tiny window up top. I saw a shadow. I think they’ve got Carly in the attic.”

  “Let’s go find out. I’ll do anything you say. Anything.”

  Luther’s face was expressionless. “We’ll have to work fast. Get the jump on them before midnight. I don’t trust neither of them.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Luther paced the small space inside his crowded house. His jeans rested low on his hips and his ripped T-shirt hung inside-out. He picked up a cat and petted it. “Haven’t found nothing yet I can’t fix. Sometimes it’s hard to tell what tools’ll come in handy.” The corners of his eyes wrinkled in concentration. He raised his eyebrows.

  “What?”

  “I’m thinking.”

  “All right.” Ivy pulled her hair back in a ponytail and let it drop. She paced with Luther as he rubbed his unshaven chin. After a few minutes, Ivy couldn’t take it any longer. She grabbed Luther’s arm. “What? What’re you thinking?”

  Luther nodded. “We’re going to steal Carly back. We need some help but not from Charlie. Conrad’s got Charlie by the short and curlies. Only way he’ll arrest them all is if there are witnesses.”

  Ivy closed her eyes for a second before throwing her arms around Luther and hugging him. She breathed in his musty, dirty-sock smell, the smell of salvation. Luther looked down at his feet, blushing from Ivy’s affection.

  “No one’s ever hugged me before.” He cleared his throat. “Go into town and gather everyone that you trust one hundred percent. With witnesses, Charlie will have to do something this time.”

  “Almost everybody I know is pretty old.”

  “That’s okay. If they can walk and they can see, we want them. Bring everyone here as soon as possible and tell them to wear something dark. I’ve got more thinking to do.”

  “Okay.” She picked up the statue of the Christ child and handed it to Luther. “You really ought to give Baby Jesus back to the church. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

  Luther shrugged, showing his crooked teeth with bits of black chewing tobacco wedged in between. “Okay.”

  Ivy left Luther’s house with rising hopes as the handyman plotted Carly’s escape. Luther was good at fixing things. If he could move a stuffed buffalo by himself, surely he could extract a little girl from her kidnappers before midnight.

  She drove the dilapidated camper to the Coffey Shop. Opening the heavy door, she breathed in the welcoming smell of fried chicken and gravy. She stopped by the kitchen and whispered to Miss Shirley. “Carly’s been kidnapped by Miles. She’s out at Conrad’s place. We’re mounting a rescue. If you can get Kitty to cover for you, meet me at Luther’s place as soon as you can. Go the back way and wear black.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Just like Ivy thought, Uncle Tommy and Reuben were at their regular booth drinking their coffee and eating pie. Russell sat with them eating French fries. Ivy was relieved to see Charlie hadn’t arrived yet.

  Dark rings circled Reuben’s eyes. He looked as if he had not taken the news of Carly’s kidnapping very well. Ivy sat down beside him and patted his shoulder. “How’s Patty doing?”

  Reuben pursed his lips. “She hasn’t spoken a word since Carly was snatched. It’s like she’s paralyzed. Never seen her this bad. Doc Kelsey says it’s not good. I’m headed home in a minute. How you doing?”

  “I’m going to be okay. You didn’t tell Charlie, did you?”

  “No, she told me not to.”

  “Good. Luther’s planning a rescue. We need your help. But don’t tell anyone—not anyone.”

  Reuben and Russell nodded. Russell dabbed a French fry in the ketchup. “You can count on me.”

  Uncle Tommy shook his head at Russell. “Well you’re good at counting and you’re just a dag-burn mailman so there’s nothing you can do to help.”

  “Letter carrier, Dad,” Russell said. He used his knife to push the ketchup into a perfect circle. “I’ll be there, Ivy.”

  Ivy ignored Uncle Tommy. “Thanks, Russell. You’re a good friend. Meet us at Luther’s as soon as you can.”

  “Luther’s?” Reuben asked.

  “Yeah. I’ll explain everything when you get there.”

  Uncle Tommy stuck out his lower lip and shook his head. “Reuben and I aren’t taking part in any of crazy Luther’s cockamamie schemes.”

  Ivy leaned toward him. Her voice was so low it was barely a whisper. “Carly’s just a little girl.”

  Uncle Tommy sniffed and pushed his glasses up on his nose. “We’re still not going to do it.”

  Reuben narrowed his eyes. “Speak for yourself. A child is never forgotten. My little brother died when he was about Carly’s age. I still miss him. Don’t even know where he’s buried.” Reuben pounded his fist the table and the coffee cups rattled in their saucers. “That man killed Buckshot. He’s not going to get our Carly, too.” He looked at Ivy and nodded. “I’m in.”

  Uncle Tommy stared at his buddy across their booth. “Reuben, have you lost your mind?”

  Reuben rubbed his puffy, red eyes. “I can’t take another thing haunting me.”

  Uncle Tommy looked over the top of his black-rimmed glasses at Reuben. “I guess I’m going to the Blue Moon by myself tonight.”

  Reuben took a sip of coffee, his hands shaking. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Miss Shirley brought over a coffee refill. She slammed her hand down on the table. “Tommy Taylor, if you had any guts, you’d help your girl.”

  Uncle Tommy grunted and took a bite of his pie. “That little girl’s got nothing to do with me.”

  “I meant Ivy.” Miss Shirley frowned and thumped back to the kitchen.

  Ivy glared at Uncle Tommy. “I suppose it doesn’t matter to you that Conrad Thrasher had an affair with my mother right before the accident?”

  The three men stared at her.

  Uncle Tommy’s face turned white. “I didn’t know that. Who says?”

  “My mother. I saw her in Des Moines.”

  Reuben’s jaw dropped and Russell patted his hair.

  Ivy slid out of the booth and looked directly at Russell and Reuben. “Conrad’s been doing what he wants for a long time. It stops today. I’ll see you at Luther’s place as soon as you can. Don’t tell anyone. Wear black and come the back way.” Ivy turned and strode to the door.

  Ivy stopped by Peter’s law office, but Bertha said he was t
aking care of Ellen who was in her crazy mind and had been ranting about a kidnapping. Ivy explained the situation to Bertha then went to find Otis, but no one answered at his house. She knew Otis shouldn’t be alone. The deaths of Maggie and Pinky had sent him spiraling into sadness, and Carly was his only lifeline. When Ivy had called to tell him his little Carly was gone, he had broken down and cried. But Ivy didn’t have time to look for him now. Carly needed her. She would find Otis later and make sure he was okay. She stopped and talked to Virgil and Max before she left.

  Ivy didn’t stop at Judy’s Beauty Shop. It was closed for the day, which meant Judy was visiting her son. Jesse and Raven had been married for several years and now lived in nearby Stilton. Raven taught home economics and Jesse was the football coach for the Stilton Buffaloes, their old high school rivals. Despite all his plans, Jesse’s life hadn’t ended up that different from Ivy’s after all.

  Even though it was very late, Ivy made her stops around town and talked to everyone she trusted who might help her. Then she went to Luther’s to wait for their arrival and the handyman-led rescue of Carly.

  Chapter 34

  THE RESCUE

  Ivy paced Luther’s cluttered living room. She paused and looked out the filthy, spiderweb-filled front window. “I hope they come.”

  Luther gazed over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. They will. They’re Iowans.”

  Ivy pointed to the headlights appearing out of the dark. “Look.”

  A line of cars and trucks came over the dark hill, the back way so as not to drive by Conrad’s house. The vehicles, with their lights off, pulled into Luther’s dirt driveway and Ivy held the porch door open. The consolation of living in a small town was the assurance, that despite the constant intrusions on privacy and the petty bickering, they could depend on each other. Ivy discovered great solace in knowing her community would offer support during life’s crucial battles.

  Luther stood beside Ivy as he checked out the chosen witnesses she had assembled. Edna Jean bumped her head on the car door as she got out of Bertha’s car. Luther whispered to Ivy, “You asked Edna Jean? I said they had to be able to see.”

  “I know, but I couldn’t leave her out,” Ivy whispered back.

  The ragtag rescuers filed into Luther’s small house: the dust-phobic librarian Edna Jean Whittaker, the town gossip Bertha Tuttle, the suspicious defenders of Mulberry Street Virgil Jackson and Max Black, the ghost-haunted Reuben Smith, the pitty-patter Russell, the maven of the Coffey Shop Miss Shirley, and the bullied ex-mail carrier Uncle Walter. Some sat down wherever they could find a seat in the unkempt room, but most of them stood.

  “You could stand a little cleaning up around here, Luther,” Miss Shirley said.

  “No time for such luxuries,” Luther said. “Now let’s get busy.”

  “Let’s just storm the place,” said Max.

  “What if Luther’s wrong?” Bertha asked.

  “I’m not wrong,” Luther said, insulted. “We got to move fast. We need to disrupt his midnight cemetery plans. Keep your eyes open and your mouths shut.”

  “Shouldn’t we notify law enforcement?” Edna Jean asked.

  They all looked at her. “Have you met Charlie?” Uncle Walter asked.

  Miss Shirley gestured. “He’s so far up the mayor’s—”

  Reuben leaned against the wall near the door. “Okay, no sheriff. So, what do you want us to do?”

  “All you need to do is watch. You’re the witnesses. I’ll figure things out as we go along,” Luther said.

  “That’s your rescue plan, Luther? To figure it out as we go?” Virgil asked.

  “You can’t plan for the unexpected,” Luther said. “I find it best to go on instinct. Don’t worry, I’ve got enough for all of us.”

  Edna Jean frowned. “What? Do you think you’re James Bond or something?”

  “More like Jethro Bond,” said Bertha.

  Edna Jean adjusted her thick glasses and nodded, trying to follow the blur that was Luther. “Maybe your thieving skills can be used for something good instead of taking poor little innocent poodles.”

  “Let that go for now,” Uncle Walter said. “Folks, we need to be together on this. Our little girl’s life is at stake here.”

  “I trust Luther,” Ivy said as she confidently put her arm around him. “We’re going to do what he says.”

  Max balled up his fists. “I’d like to get my hands on that thug.”

  “Save a piece of him for me,” said Miss Shirley. “I like to clean up.”

  Russell pointed at the moon outside the window. “It’ll be midnight soon. We’d better go.”

  Luther picked up his tool belt. “Let’s load up.”

  Ivy pointed to the split wood at the end of the handle by the hammer’s head.“Old Dan Tucker’s seen better days.”

  “Never let me down before.”

  The community of protection rose from the bouncing animals and the collected clutter to face an unplanned and perhaps dangerous rescue of Carly.

  As midnight approached, they all piled into the Monstrosity and sat down on the sturdy benches in the back of the camper, like a misfit army troop being transported to battle.

  Edna Jean yawned. “Haven’t been out this late in years.”

  Ivy drove around to the cemetery and parked by the clearing at Deadman’s Woods. They all got out and crept along the deepening shadows until they reached the border of Conrad Thrasher’s farm. A night owl called mournfully from the top of a tree. Its hooting seemed to warn of the dangers that lurked before them.

  Luther and Ivy left the others at the edge of the woods and headed toward the barn.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m not staying here if Carly’s in danger,” whispered Max to the others.

  Virgil nodded. “Well, if we’re doing this, let’s do it.”

  So instead of staying put as they were told, the community contingent followed Luther and Ivy in a strange shuffling line. When they rounded the barn, Reuben stumbled over a basketball left from one of Weston’s solitary games. Luther and Ivy turned to discover the entire group right behind them.

  “Get back where I told you!” Luther whispered.

  “You want us to come to just stand in the woods?” Bertha asked.

  “You might need us,” said Miss Shirley.

  “You’ll ruin it,” Luther scowled.

  Ivy rested her hand on Luther’s arm. “They just want to help. Let them come.”

  Luther pressed his finger to his lips. “Okay, but at least be quiet. Go wait in the barn while I go to the house.”

  “It’s locked,” Virgil said.

  “Then just stay out of sight on the side,” Luther said.

  The witnesses collected on the side of the barn and Luther motioned for Ivy to follow him. “Look in the windows. See if you can see her.”

  But as they approached the house, they heard a frantic scuffling and shouting coming from inside.

  “I told you to keep an eye on her!” Conrad’s voice scolded.

  “She was locked in!” Weston said.

  “Obviously not. Where would she go?” Miles asked.

  “Check everywhere in the house,” said Conrad.

  Ivy looked up at the small attic window. It was open. Ivy grabbed Luther’s arm and pointed at it and they both ran back to join the group. Luther took his hammer from his tool belt to pry open the lock on the barn. As the lock opened, the head of his hammer broke off from the handle. Luther picked up the corpse of Old Dan Tucker and put it in the pocket of his tool belt.

  Miss Shirley quietly opened the double doors of the barn and everyone squeezed inside.

  “Carly’s escaped. We need to find her before they do,” Ivy said.

  They searched the entire barn and hayloft but there was no sign of the girl. “She’s not here.” Luther scratched his head. “Let’s try the cistern.”

  He led them back outside into the darkness and pointed to the cistern. They all headed to the old concrete tan
k in the ground, about fifty yards from the house. The top of the cistern was broken, but there was a hole big enough for a little girl to climb inside. A padlock and chain kept the rest of cistern lid shut.

  Ivy tugged at the lock. Luther’s broken hammer was useless. She looked at Reuben. “Can you do it?”

  Reuben nodded confidently, and walked over.

  “That shouldn’t even be a challenge,” said Uncle Walter. “He’s picked harder locks on my trailer.”

  In the distance, a light flickered in the farmhouse kitchen. With the curtains open, they could see Conrad and Weston moving around inside.

  “You know, they’ll just get away with it,” said Russell, vigorously patting his hair.

  Miss Shirley shook her head. “Not this time. You don’t hurt a child.”

  Luther gave Reuben the knife from his tool belt and he picked the lock in a few seconds. The rest of the group stood guard behind them. With the cistern open, Ivy nodded at Max. “Your turn, Max.”

  Max moved the lid, then jumped up on the edge of the open cistern. He descended into the concrete tank and, after a few seconds, emerged at the top shaking his head. His bald head glistened in the flashlight’s beam. “It’s dark down there but she’s not there. It’s empty.”

  Everyone turned and stared at Luther, their rescue leader. “What do your instincts say, Luther?” Ivy asked.

  Luther looked at the ground. “I think she’s hiding.”

  Ivy’s confidence that they would steal Carley back crumbled. She looked around at the strange group of friends standing around her.

  Rueben pushed through the group. “I’ll go search the house. Conrad will let me in. Won’t be suspicious.”

  Luther and Ivy looked at each other and then nodded to Reuben. He nodded back, then walked across to the farmhouse and knocked. Conrad let him in. The others watched from the shadows of the trees as the minutes ticked by. The door opened again and Reuben walked down to the road, before doubling back through the trees to the group.

  “Miles is there,” Reuben told the huddled group. “I saw him duck into the coat closet. They seem panicked. I looked everywhere I could. Told him I’d lost my wallet at the last card game. Didn’t see any trace of Carly.”