Fly Like a Bird

by Jana Zinser

  Ivy, Carly, and Patty looked out the living room window at the constant downpour. They watched Reuben’s new puppy, Birddog, splashing in the huge puddles.

  Carly tapped at the window dripping with rain. “When will the sky be empty?”

  Patty sighed. “Soon, I hope.”

  Reuben walked over and stood beside them. His dripping boots left a trail of sloppy sludge behind him. “My crops will be ruined this year. Too much rain is as bad as too little. Nature always lets you know who’s the boss.”

  Uncle Tommy stomped in to Reuben’s house without knocking. He wore his black cowboy hat, the closest thing to an umbrella he had ever used. Uncle Tommy and Reuben were playing in the bowling league tournament at the Blue Moon that night.

  When they were ready to go, Reuben called for his dog. It was too wet for Birddog to be out all night, but he didn’t come racing around the house like he usually did when Reuben called him.

  Reuben put on his John Deere cap. “Birddog’s probably out back chasing those poor frightened chickens again. One of my chickens got so scared during that tornado, it lost all its feathers. Plum fell out. All of them. Dadburn strangest sight I’ve ever seen. Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

  Ivy nodded with a smile. “Yeah, I have,”

  Reuben and Uncle Tommy headed outside as Patty held the door.

  “Ivy, will you go with those two old men to find the dog?” Patty asked. “You’re the only one that’s still young enough to see at night. One of them’ll fall in a deep puddle, and we’ll never see them again. But if it’s Tommy, just leave him there.”

  Carly giggled into her hand.

  Ivy nodded. “Sure.”

  She grabbed her jacket and followed Uncle Tommy and Reuben out into the rainy night. They headed around the house toward the barn, calling for the dog. The rain clouds cast a hazy film in the sky and dimmed the moon’s light. The two old men and Ivy dodged the puddles and rivulets running through the yard as they hurried to Reuben’s old barn.

  Uncle Tommy adjusted his cowboy hat, tipping it to pour off the rain. “Sure is a hard rain.”

  They turned on the light in the barn. The bulb swayed from its dangling wires. Some of the old boards on the roof had blown off in the tornado, allowing the torrential rain to enter and make a muddy mess. The hay covering a corner of the dirt floor had a stale, earthy smell.

  They found Birddog inside the barn, digging a deep hole. Birddog bounded eagerly toward them, carrying something in his mouth. The muddy dog proudly dropped his discovery in front of them. They stared, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief. What Birddog had deposited at their feet was a small human skull smeared with mud.

  “What is that?” Uncle Tommy asked.

  “Looks like a human skull,” Ivy said.

  Reuben stood upright in the old dilapidated barn, his face white as a ghost. He pointed to the hole in the barn floor that Birddog had dug. “My little brother was buried here, in the barn.” He pointed to the muddy skull. “That’s him.”

  Uncle Tommy stared at Reuben. “Have you completely lost your mind? What are you talking about?”

  “That’s right. How did I forget that? That’s so weird. But I remember now. I was little when my brother died and the ground in the cemetery was too frozen to bury him. My father used a pickax to dig a shallow grave in the barn. I cried every time that axe hit the ground. My brother has been right here with me all along.”

  Reuben kneeled down in the mud and held his brother’s small skull in his hands. The old man wept a little boy’s tears from his memories of his dead brother and from all the years of missing him. The rain continued to pelt down. Uncle Tommy held Birddog back and helplessly watched his buddy cry.

  Ivy knelt down beside Reuben in the mud and wrapped her arms around him. They cried together. She understood the pain of losing loved ones and wondering where they went.

  The next day the rain let up. Reuben dug up his brother’s bones and buried them in a proper grave in Weeping Willow Cemetery next to his parents.

  When Reuben returned to the farmhouse the ghosts had vanished.

  Chapter 42

  THE HALLOWEEN HEIST

  The Iowa summer crept up unexpectedly. The windy warmth of spring turned into a roasting furnace without any warning. Nothing seemed right without Grandma. The humid stickiness of the air made Ivy sluggish. Her promise to Grandma about visiting Angela and bringing Justin home weighed heavily on her. But she didn’t have the strength. It would have to wait a while longer.

  One night at the end of August, the summer heat made it impossible to even sit on the back porch. Ivy had installed air conditioning that summer and sought relief from the heat inside the house. She flopped into a chair in front of the window air conditioner and stared numbly at the flickering picture of the television with the volume turned off.

  Six-year-old Carly walked into the room and looked at Ivy. Then she pointed to the muted TV with a wavy picture. “Grandpa Otis stares at the quiet TV, too.”

  Ivy jerked away from the mesmerizing light, turned off the TV, and hugged Carly. “Grandpa Otis will come home as soon as his paperwork is approved.”

  Ivy knew that being a part of a family, however peculiar, created a sense of belonging and the comfort of home. She had finally convinced Otis that he did not belong in Rose Hill and helped him fill out the required departure request. Now, they were just waiting for it to be approved before Otis would be set free from his confinement of the nursing home.

  When the cool air of fall blew into Coffey, Ivy breathed a sigh of relief. She had made it through the hazy summer. The fresh air of autumn made it easier to think. Everything seemed clearer, as if finally in focus. After several months without any response from Rose Hill regarding Otis’s departure request, Ivy was tired of waiting. She had learned from Luther to go with her instinct, so she decided to spring Otis from Rose Hill without telling him.

  Halloween night flew in on the dark shoulders of a witch’s black cloak. Clouds covered the full moon’s brightness. The wind blew so hard the dead leaves swirled across the yard like a small twister. Magic and power tumbled with the autumn leaves and the spirits swirled in the air.

  The night grew dark and cold, and Carly was scared of the ghosts and witches roaming the streets. As Ivy drove Carly home from trick-or-treating, she saw two high school kids dressed up. The boy was dressed as an old man in a wheelchair. The girl had dressed up like a nurse and pushed him along, periodically stopping to hit him with a giant, inflatable hammer. The costumes were not so funny to Ivy.

  “Guess what, Carly? Tonight, we’re going to bust Grandpa out of Rose Hill and bring him to live with us.”

  Carly cheered. “Is that our Halloween prank?”

  “Sort of.”

  At home, Ivy threw several empty duffel bags into the back of the truck where all that remained were the benches. Ivy attributed the long life of the Monstrosity to the miraculous mechanical skills of Max and to the camper’s defiant spirit as a misfit. It simply refused to give up.

  They drove through town to the Rose Hill Nursing Home as little goblins, ghosts, and witches scurried along the sidewalks with bags full of candy. The light cast by the Halloween prank of burning bales of hay in the intersection of town illuminated the Halloween chaos as Charlie tried to put it out.

  They pulled into the nursing home parking lot and Ivy grabbed the duffel bags from the back. The ground crunched beneath their shoes as they crossed the lawn toward 8B, which had a glowing electric pumpkin in the window that Carly had given Otis. Ivy tapped on the window.

  “Mr. Norton, open the side door. It’s us.”

  After a few moments, Otis opened the heavy locked exit door. Ivy and Carly tiptoed inside. Ivy didn’t want Thelma to hear them. Otis put his arm around Ivy and reached down and touched Carly’s cheek. “So, what’s up with the sneaky stuff?”

  Carly jumped up and down. Her shoulder-length curls bounced. “Trick or Treat. We’re busting you out, Grandp
a.”

  Ivy put her finger to her mouth. “Shh.”

  Otis smiled as he cupped the little girl’s chin in his hand. “Is that right, sugar?”

  Ivy went into his room and shut the door. “I’m tired of waiting for your paperwork to get approved. So, tonight is the night you’re coming home to live with us. We’ve got to pack your stuff and then we’re going out the back exit. Thelma can figure it out for herself. I don’t want to deal with her right now.”

  Otis hugged Carly. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get going.”

  Ivy opened the drawers and the closet, gathering up Otis’s meager belongings.

  Otis slapped his legs. “Uh. Uh. Uh. Lordy. Lordy. I won’t have to be alone in this room anymore.”

  It didn’t take long to pack his things. His life whittled down to just a few belongings. With a final look around 8B, they left the light on to fool Thelma, and backed out, shutting the door quietly behind them. When they turned around, Thelma’s menacing figure stood beside them.

  “Witch!” Carly screamed.

  Thelma scowled at Carly over the top of her half-glasses. Then she turned her accusing stare at Ivy. “I hope you’re not taking Otis out of here on a night like this.”

  Thelma’s breath reeked of alcohol, her own Halloween brew. Ivy faced the small woman who was blocking their exit. “Yes, Thelma, that’s exactly what we’re doing.” Ivy nodded at Otis. “Mr. Norton will be living with us now.”

  Thelma, the peewee witch, shook her head. “His departure paperwork hasn’t been approved yet. He isn’t going anywhere.” She emphasized each word with her stubby finger.

  Ivy turned to face Thelma, now forty-four. “For months you’ve ignored our attempts to get the paperwork approved. We’re tired of waiting. If we leave without Mr. Norton, I promise you I will be back with Mr. Norton’s attorney, the county health inspector, and the Coffey Gazette. I’m sure you won’t mind answering questions about how the residents are practically prisoners in this facility, not to mention the quality of health care, or how cockroaches and mice run unimpeded in these rooms. Perhaps you would also like to discuss with the authorities why you’ve been drinking on the job when you made it perfectly clear that alcohol is against the rules for the people who live here?”

  Ivy heard a garden hoe swishing through the air in her mind. “Do I make myself clear, Thelma?”

  Thelma folded her arms across her chest. “Oh, you’re clear. I can see right through you.”

  Carly’s fingers dug into Ivy’s arms.

  “Why are you like this? I saved your daughter from the corn all those years ago,” Ivy said.

  “So? I’m supposed to be grateful?” Thelma didn’t give up. “What are you trying to do, go around saving as many black people as you can? I hate white do-gooders like you. You think us black people should be beholden to you because you pity us. Otis might be some poor community-service project to you, but you can’t drop him off in the country like some old stray dog when you’re tired of him.”

  Ivy paused, visibly shaken. “Mr. Norton is family and he’s going home with us.”

  “Otis isn’t leaving here!” Thelma yelled.

  A soft growl escaped from Otis’s lips. His sad eyes flashed alive. “Oh, yes I am, Thelma. Like the lady said, I’m going home.”

  Thelma pulled her shoulders back. Her mustache wrinkled into a tight half-circle. “Otis, your home isn’t with that white girl.”

  Otis put his arm around Ivy. “It is now.” He glanced around the shabby little room. “This was never my home. It’s just a place to wait to die. But I want to live.” Then he turned to Ivy. “Let’s go home.”

  Ivy nodded. She picked up the duffle bags and quickly moved past Thelma, the evil pixie. The three of them walked down the dingy nursing home hallway for the last time and stepped into the dark Halloween night.

  Early the next morning, Ivy found Otis in the metal glider on the back porch. He sipped a tall glass of sweet tea that Ivy made late the night before. Ivy wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, slipped on her boots by the back door, and joined him. They breathed the cool fresh air and listened to the trees rustling in the autumn wind.

  “Something’s wrong, Ivy. It’s too quiet.”

  Ivy pulled the blanket around her shoulders. “I know. It’s the birds. They left when Grandma died. Haven’t been back since.”

  Otis sipped his tea and gazed into the empty woods. “Well, can’t say that I blame them any. I left when Maggie and Pinky died. Thought it was all over when Miles took my Carly. But I came back. Maybe the birds will, too.”

  Chapter 43

  FINDING YOUR SPIRIT

  The cold Midwestern winter wind blew in across the prairie, but the rich black Iowa soil remained unusually bare without snow and ice that December. Nearly a year after Grandma died, Ivy finally felt strong enough to contact Angela. A lifetime of rejection made Ivy unsure of Angela’s reception. Her anxiety increased with the knowledge that they shared the same father. By life’s strange circumstances, they were sisters, another thing that Ivy would have to tell her.

  The time had come for Ivy to mend the torn hole in the fabric of her family. She needed to open her arms a little wider and bring Justin home. Although a daunting task, Ivy intended to keep her promise to Grandma, who she imagined was anxiously watching her from the Great Hereafter.

  She found Angela’s number in Grandma’s address book and called her. Angela refused to meet Ivy in Coffey. She had not been back home since she had Justin. But she agreed to meet Ivy at Ivy’s college alumni office in Stilton.

  At first, their meeting felt awkward. Ivy stared at Angela’s hair. Her long beautiful hair that she’d had all her life, was gone. Angela self-consciously ran her hand through her short brown crop. “I chopped it off when I left Coffey. My act of defiance, I guess. I never let it grow back.”

  “Good for you.” Ivy took a deep breath and decided to just plunge in. “Did you go to Grandma’s burial?”

  “Yeah, I just stayed near the woods. I didn’t want to make it about me.”

  “I thought that was you. Grandma wanted me to talk to you. Before she died, she asked me to bring Justin back to our family.”

  “I was afraid that’s what you wanted to talk about.” She slumped back against the chair. Her blue-gray eyes turned soft. The frantic steel stare of her youth was gone. “I never wanted you to know. I was too ashamed. I knew you would hate what I did. You always seemed so confident. Russell and I were pretty much bullied by our parents.” Tears ran down Angela’s face.

  “I never fit in, so I just acted like I didn’t care,” Ivy said.

  “I haven’t spoken to anybody since I left Coffey. I couldn’t stay there and live with giving up my baby. So, when I gave up Justin, I gave up my family, too. Overall, losing my family was a small thing. I never had any other children.”

  “What happened back then?”

  Angela sighed. “Well, Ben and I had been seeing each other for a while. Sneaking around, hanging out whenever we could. I really loved him, but I got pregnant my senior year. I didn’t even tell my mom and dad until a few days after Christmas. Remember the year the Santa suit caught on fire? Anyway, Dad told me I couldn’t raise him, that I had to give him up. He was worried about what everyone would think. I was so used to doing everything he told me, I just did it. I know you can’t understand that because Grandma always let you think for yourself. You weren’t scared of making mistakes.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Miss Shirley’s house. Nobody knew, but Grandma and Dr. Kelsey.”

  “What?”

  “Dad thought I went to live with someone Grandma knew in Des Moines. But I lived on Mulberry Street until the baby was born. Ben slept on the couch and I used his room. Ben and I became strangers and I spent most of the time just staring out the window. I used to watch you over at Maggie’s house. You guys even visited Miss Shirley while I hid upstairs. I could hear you laughing as you watched that soap ope
ra with Miss Shirley.”

  “That must have been horrible for you.”

  Angela grabbed a tissue from Ivy’s desk. “I lost my spirit that year. I left my little baby three days after he was born. I couldn’t go home to a father who considered me a disgrace and to a mother who believed I had given birth to Satan’s child. I left my little boy sleeping in Miss Shirley’s arms, and she raised my son as hers. I left Coffey, and I’ve never been back. I just couldn’t stand to stay there, knowing that I’d given up my child because of the color of his skin. I should have fought harder. I should have stayed. I hate my parents for making me do that. I just hope Justin will forgive me.”

  Ivy leaned over and touched Angela’s shoulder. “I know what it’s like to feel empty about your family. There’s always something missing. But it’s not too late for you and Justin. If Uncle Tommy and Aunt Hattie can’t accept Justin, we’ll do it without them. We don’t need their approval. They can’t control you anymore.”

  Angela looked down at her hands. She pulled at the edges of the tissue. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. You know, Grandma used to tell me I’d need you someday.” She looked up. “She was right.”

  “She always was,” said Ivy.

  “Thanks,” Angela said.

  Ivy waved her hand through the air, imitating Grandma. “Ah, pshaw.”

  Angela laughed. “I guess we have more in common than I thought.”

  Ivy smiled. Maybe some hope lingered for a friendship with her newly found sister, but one family secret at a time.

  Ivy stopped by Miss Shirley’s house the next day. They sat on the same brown tweed couch where she sat as a little girl. Miss Shirley turned on the TV to watch her story. Ivy leaned forward and pointed to the TV.

  “Hey, what happened to As the World Turns?”

  Miss Shirley waved her hand back and forth in the air. “Oh, child, I had to move out of that town. Everybody kept getting amnesia. I’m over at Pine Valley now with All My Children.”