Forever Glimmer Creek

by Stacy Hackney

  “Rosie, darling? Where are you?” Miss Lily’s voice drifted up to her.

  “Coming,” Rosie called, tucking the cards into her desk drawer.

  Miss Lily waited at the bottom of the stairs. Her snow-white hair was pulled back into a low bun, and she wore a long poppy-colored dress. Rosie galloped down the steps and gave her a quick hug.

  “Darling, I’ve missed you. Ever since school started back up, I hardly see you anymore. It’s been weeks! Come along. I’ve brought all the fixings for a lamb curry,” Miss Lily said, heading into their kitchen. She lived next door and made supper for them on nights when Mama had a city council meeting.

  Rosie followed Miss Lily down the hallway. Mama and Rosie’s house was nearly a century old and had all the creaks and dents to prove it. The rooms were filled with battered chests and sloped wooden floors. The outside had a chipped curlicued porch and arched windows dusted with dirt. The white siding needed a good paint job, and the floorboards on the front porch bowed like a hammock if you stepped on the wrong one.

  “I heard about last week’s bench catastrophe,” Miss Lily said casually while she unpacked ingredients from a grocery bag.

  Rosie collapsed into a stool beneath the counter. “Sheriff Parker was furious, as usual.”

  Miss Lily hauled out a large pot from the depths of a cabinet and set it on the stove burner. “Well, artists must suffer for their art, and if that means a bit of accidental vandalism, so be it. I certainly had my share of difficulties. I recall putting on performance after performance despite catching a dreadful case of pneumonia one winter.”

  “How could you sing if you had pneumonia?” Rosie asked.

  “Pure will,” Miss Lily said. “And my understudy was a horrible girl who was dying to steal my role. I couldn’t let her take it, now, could I?”

  “I guess not,” Rosie said, grinning.

  Miss Lily opened a cabinet, removing several glass jars of spices. “Tell me what you’ve been doing inside on this beautiful afternoon.”

  “Oh, reading and doing homework and—” Rosie stopped, struck with the sudden urge to tell someone what she’d discovered. “Actually, I was researching my father.”

  Miss Lily raised both eyebrows. “Indeed, and what did you learn?”

  “He has a new role, and the film is shooting in Richmond.”

  “Ah.” Miss Lily was silent for several seconds. “I’m sure he’s quite busy. Rehearsals go day and night on film sets. It wasn’t any different for a Broadway show.” Miss Lily had been a famous Broadway actress before she retired and moved back home to Glimmer Creek.

  “You’re probably right,” Rosie said, staring at a scratch on the counter but picturing the words written inside the card all over again. “Only—my father has no idea I want to be a director. He might come see my movies in person if he knew about them.”

  “Perhaps you should talk to Caroline about this,” Miss Lily murmured.

  “I can’t. Mama doesn’t like to talk about him.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true. She’s told you all about his career and where he lives and—and …” Miss Lily’s voice trailed off.

  “Exactly. She’s told me the most basic stuff. That’s all.” Rosie remembered Mama’s comment from last week; she’d said Michael wanted nothing to do with anything. “She never admits it, but she must hate him for leaving.”

  Miss Lily stopped mixing the spices and set down the wooden spoon. “Now, that’s simply not so. Your mama and daddy were very much in love. Caroline could never hate Michael. I can promise you that.”

  “I know they met when Michael was working in Gloster in a summer stock theater, but I don’t know much else,” Rosie admitted.

  Miss Lily glanced beyond Rosie’s shoulder toward the door. “Caroline is truly the one to ask about this.”

  “But couldn’t you … ? Well, couldn’t you tell me something about him?” Rosie asked.

  Miss Lily hesitated. “I suppose it won’t hurt.” She rubbed spices into the meat in front of her before choosing her words. “It was love at first sight. Michael saw Caroline in the audience during one of his performances, chased her down afterward, and demanded her phone number. She couldn’t help but give it to him. They were wonderfully happy together. Michael even delayed leaving Glimmer Creek after the summer. But he couldn’t sit still for long. He finally got a role he couldn’t turn down. It was quite sad. I think the entire town missed him. He was only here a few months, but he’d gotten to know so many people.”

  “Really?” Rosie had never heard this part before.

  “Oh yes. Michael had lunch at Sook Diner every day and spoke to all the patrons. He was fascinated with the town Miracles and would often visit with the Miracled themselves, asking questions about what happened and how it affected them.” Miss Lily smiled. “Thinking back on it reminds me of the summer you spent cataloging every single Miracle.”

  Rosie gasped. “I forgot about that. I wanted to write a movie script about them. I still think it’s a great idea.” Even more so now that Rosie knew her father was fascinated with the Miracles just like her. She shivered. This proved they were alike in more ways than they even knew yet.

  Miss Lily reached across the counter and patted Rosie’s hand. “I’m glad you believe in the Miracles, darling. I know some young people don’t anymore. I suppose I understand it. After all, there’s no accounting for the Miracles. No one knows what causes them.”

  “I’ll never stop believing,” Rosie said fervently. The Festival of the Fish was coming up in a few weeks, and the whole day was all about believing in the Miracles.

  “Good,” Miss Lily said. “Because Miracles do exist.”

  “Will you tell me your story again?” Rosie asked.

  “Come now, you’ve heard it a hundred times.” Miss Lily waved a hand in the air. Her emerald ring caught the light and flung green sparkles across the counter.

  “But it’s one of my favorites,” Rosie said. “Please.”

  Miss Lily’s face softened, the lines smoothing out and her eyes turning misty. “My first memory is of my mama talking to me, begging me to say something. Her green eyes filled up with tears, and she gripped my arms so tight. I tried to make a sound. I tried over and over, but I couldn’t. And, oh my, I hated to disappoint her.”

  Rosie always felt like hugging Miss Lily at the start of the story.

  “My parents took me to every doctor they could think of, but there was a problem with my vocal chords, something about improper vibration and my trachea. I’m not completely certain, but I was unable to make a sound from birth. I felt like a burden on my family.”

  “You never could be a burden,” Rosie said, outraged.

  “It was a different time. We had six children in our family, and no one knew how to handle disabilities. We heard about a treatment center in Boston that could help children like me, but my parents couldn’t afford it. I began selling oysters, pulling weeds for the neighbors, anything I could to earn enough money to send myself to Boston. But it wasn’t enough, so I decided to run away.” Miss Lily gazed off into the distance, falling silent.

  “And then?” Rosie prompted.

  “And then, the night before I left, I went to the Fishing Well, tossed in a penny, and made my wish. I wished with every fiber of my being that I could find some way to make my mama proud and stop my family from worrying about me. When I woke up the next morning, something was different.”

  “How did you know?” Rosie whispered, even though she knew the answer.

  “There was a tingling in my throat and a sweet taste on my tongue like sugared roses. I opened my mouth, and it happened. Words burst out of me as if someone had shaken a bottle of champagne and uncorked it all at once.” Miss Lily clasped her hands together. “It was a Miracle. My parents were overjoyed, though it wasn’t until that night that I began singing.”

  “And your mama said it sounded as if angels had come down to earth,” Rosie said.

  Miss Lily smiled g
ently. “That is what she said. Soon I was singing in the choir, then on the radio, and finally I made my way to Broadway, where I became a brilliant star and won a Tony Award. Twice. Well deserved, too.”

  Rosie then asked the same question she always did when Miss Lily was finished. “What if the Miracle happened because of your wish?”

  Miss Lily shrugged. “Maybe it did. Who can say for certain? But it always did seem to me as if fate had taken over my life that night. Perhaps it was the Fishing Well or perhaps it was simply divine intervention.”

  Rosie smiled, her heart filling with warmth like a cup of chocolate and cream. Just imagine—magic, fate, and a true happy ending, all tied up together. If it could happen to Miss Lily, it could happen to her. Surely Michael’s new job was its own kind of fate bringing them together. They were just one hundred miles apart. This was her chance to finally meet him, and there was only one thing to do. She had to find a way to get her father to Glimmer Creek.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The following afternoon, Rosie hurtled toward River Bend Park. Henry had called an emergency HenRoCam, and she couldn’t waste a second.

  HenRoCam was the best combination of Cam, Henry, and Rosie’s names. It was also code for their official meetings to discuss filming or fishing plans or the neighborhood talent show or anything, really. But an emergency HenRoCam was rare. The only other time Rosie could think of Henry calling one was when he found out his mama was sick. She hoped this meeting wasn’t about that.

  But even as she rushed down Magnolia Street and worried about the HenRoCam, Rosie’s mind turned back to her father. She had thought about him nonstop since yesterday and started to come up with reasons—good reasons—why Michael hadn’t ever called her. What if he believed Rosie wouldn’t want to see him because so much time had passed? What if he knew Mama wouldn’t let her see him? What if he thought Mama hated him? Rosie should call him first, but Mama wouldn’t let that happen.

  It was all so frustrating. Rosie couldn’t figure out how to get her father to Glimmer Creek even though they were meant to meet. Cam’s father attended every one of her soccer games, and Henry’s father was the first person at his science fairs. Rosie wanted a father to show up for her. They already had so much in common: their love of movies and believing in the Miracles and probably loads more. If he came to Glimmer Creek, surely he’d see that.

  Cam waved from across the street, and Rosie stopped to let her catch up. Throngs of people streamed into River Bend Park. Rosie stared at the growing crowd congregating around the Fishing Well up ahead.

  “What’s the emergency?” Cam asked.

  “I don’t know,” Rosie said, gesturing to the people hurrying past them. “But something is up. Henry asked me to bring my camcorder.”

  “As long as it’s not about Miss Betty,” Cam said in a worried voice.

  “It can’t be. She only has two treatments left, and Henry said the chemotherapy is working,” Rosie said, even though she had thought the same thing.

  Cam twisted her mouth to one side. “I saw Henry’s dad helping her out of the car yesterday. She could hardly walk.”

  Rosie wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed. She would never forget Henry’s face when he’d first told them Miss Betty was sick last year with breast cancer. He had swallowed over and over, his eyes had gotten huge and misty, and he’d blinked about fifty times. Rosie had never felt worse for anyone in her life.

  Though Miss Betty could still boss Henry around like nobody’s business, things were different at their house now. It was quieter, the curtains were often drawn, and there were medicine bottles lined up along the kitchen counter like soldiers guarding against the illness upstairs.

  “I’m sure she’s okay,” Rosie said, hoping it was true.

  “Well, Henry wouldn’t tell me anything on the phone, though I didn’t have much time to talk. I was in the middle of a meeting,” Cam said.

  Between the three of them, Cam was the only one with a cell phone. Mama kept saying Rosie didn’t need a cell phone because Glimmer Creek had plenty of pay phones, which was ridiculous because no one used pay phones anymore.

  “I didn’t know you had a meeting today,” Rosie said.

  Cam shrugged, but her eyes sparkled. “Leila and some of the other eighth graders on the soccer team wanted to meet in the Lounge to talk about who should start in Saturday’s game. I don’t know why they asked me. This is only my fourth game.”

  “You were in the Lounge?” Rosie asked in disbelief.

  The Lounge was strictly eighth graders only. It had its own vending machines with the best sodas and chips, a few tables, and beanbag chairs. It was loud and noisy and filled with kids who starred on the sports teams or ran the student government. One time a seventh grader walked in as a joke, and two guys from the baseball team put him in a trash can. Upside down.

  “Did anyone threaten to put you in a trash can?” Rosie whispered.

  Cam laughed. “No. Leila said it would be okay, and I trust her. No one is going to mess with her, you know.”

  Oh yes, Rosie knew. Leila Sellers sat at the first table in the cafeteria, boys were always talking to her, and she had a group of girls who walked beside her in the halls and all wore their hair in the same long French braid.

  “It’s not a big deal,” Cam said, but she was almost skipping alongside Rosie.

  “It makes sense she wanted you in the meeting,” Rosie said loyally. “You’re the best forward on the team.”

  Cam was also tall and pretty and had flawless bronze skin. Every kid in Glimmer Creek started off playing soccer when they were little, but Cam was one of the few actually good at it. She had a determined attitude and the right genes. Her daddy had played basketball in college. Cam was good at that too.

  Cam smiled big and wide. “Leila said that too. She wants me to spend the night at her house in two weeks.”

  Rosie tried to smile back, but it was stiff and unnatural. She and Cam were always invited to the same sleepovers in elementary school. But this was seventh grade and middle school, and there was no chance of Leila inviting Rosie to spend the night. Leila didn’t even know Rosie existed.

  “Sounds fun,” Rosie said, wondering what she would do on that Saturday night. She definitely wasn’t playing Truth or Dare or FaceTiming boys, which was what eighth graders did. She would probably watch a movie with Mama and go to bed by nine o’clock.

  “Come on, I see Henry up ahead,” Cam said, taking off at a jog into River Bend Park.

  The weathered gray rock and shingled roof of the Fishing Well rose from the clearing, looking as if it too had grown straight out of the ground, like the trees around it. There were clumps of people scattered around, and Mayor Grant paced nearby. A group of workers dressed in gray coveralls and orange vests pointed at something on the ground: a long, lean shape covered by a black tarp. For no reason at all, Rosie shivered.

  Henry stood off to the side, his eyes fixed on the Fishing Well. He waved as they approached. “Great. You’re finally here. I call an official HenRoCam to order.”

  “Subject?” Rosie asked, almost too nervous to ask.

  “You won’t believe it.” Henry lowered his voice. “I heard Mama talking on the phone, and she said they found a human skeleton at the bottom of the Fishing Well.”

  Cam and Rosie stared at each other. Miss Betty knew the Sook Diner had changed its crab cake sandwich recipe before Miss Matilda sold the first one. If she said there was a skeleton, there was definitely a skeleton.

  “Who is it?” Rosie asked in a hushed voice.

  “I don’t know,” Henry said. “I told you to bring the camcorder because I thought we might want to get whatever happens next on record.”

  “Good thinking,” Rosie said.

  “No one in town is missing,” Cam said.

  “It could be a really old skeleton. The human body decomposes at different rates, but it takes at least eight years to become a skeleton,” Henry said. “Sometimes scientists use b
ugs to determine the decomposition rate.”

  “Gross,” Cam said, shuddering.

  Rosie leaned in close, nodding her head at one of the nearby workers. “We should try to pick someone off to question. That one in the blue hat looks like he might crack under pressure.” Instantly, Rosie pictured a long trench coat wrapped around her while she peppered the man with questions. The camera focused on her face in a classic over-the-shoulder shot.

  “They aren’t going to tell us anything,” Cam said.

  Rosie held up her camcorder. “We could say we’re from a news station like that time we told the school crossing guard we were doing an interview for the Gazette to find out why the carpool lane closed.”

  Cam raised her eyebrows. “That got us nowhere, remember? The crossing guard threatened to report us to Principal Bradley. You know I’m usually up for your plans—”

  “And you always make them better,” Rosie added.

  “Not this time, though. I don’t think we should mess around with a skeleton. We’re not in a mystery movie,” Cam said.

  “Obviously,” Rosie said, fumbling with the strap of her camcorder bag. “I guess I should save my battery life anyway.”

  “I’m sure Mayor Grant will tell us what’s going on any minute. You know he can’t go long without making announcements,” Henry said.

  The Grants did abide by declarations. When Mayor Grant’s son, Billy, proposed, he spray-painted MARRY ME, LINDA right across the middle of the grass in River Bend Park. He called it a romantic gesture. Sheriff Parker called it vandalism. It took three weeks to grow out.

  All at once the voices in the crowd dimmed. Sheriff Parker stepped into the clearing and headed straight for Mayor Grant. Rosie glared at him, remembering how he’d yelled at her last week.

  Sheriff Parker and Mayor Grant huddled together. Piles of gray brick and white buckets of mortar were strewn around the grass. The tarp-covered object seemed to have a huge bull’s-eye target on it, and the eyes of everyone in the park were the arrows.