Speak No Evil

by Liana Gardner

Mrs. Langdon pushed open the exterior office door and led the way, talking the whole time.

  Chapter Five

  May 27, 2006 – Melody, age 7

  Wild strands of hair whipped across my face. Mama had braided it, but the wind had loosened the weave. I skipped ahead of Daddy on the path of the Tanawha Trail. We hiked the trail past Raven’s Rock to look at the rhododendron and mountain laurels. School had let out and Daddy and I were starting our annual hikes through the mountains. It was our special time together every week.

  He wanted to share his love of the mountain and the land with me and teach me the Cherokee beliefs through nature.

  “Daddy, look at the pretty flowers. They look like tiny umbrellas.”

  The inside of the flower had spines attached to the petal. And the buds on the bushes looked like closed umbrellas.

  “Can we pick some to bring back to Mama?”

  Daddy shook his head. “We’ll leave these here for other hikers to enjoy.”

  I pouted. “But Mama would really like these. And she doesn’t get to come hiking with us very often.”

  Daddy put his hands on his hips and paced, studying the bush. “Well, we can stop by the nursery and get some laurel for planting at home.”

  “Yay.” I clapped my hands.

  “We can plant it along the side of the house, so it gets the morning sun.” He gave me a mock stern look. “But I’d better have help in digging the holes.”

  “I promise, Daddy.” I reached out and touched a petal.

  “And you have to promise not to ever eat it. The mountain laurel is poisonous.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t eat plants.”

  Daddy’s eyebrows rose while the corners of his mouth turned down. “Really? You eat vegetables.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “And I recall you plucking some sour grass along one of our walks and eating it.”

  Oh yeah. He was right. “I promise I won’t eat the tiny umbrellas. They’re too pretty to eat, anyway.”

  We had been alone all morning on the path, but footsteps approached as we continued past the mountain laurels. I liked our hikes best when Daddy and I were alone because then I could pretend the mountain belonged to us.

  Elder Lowrey of the Ani’-Wah’ Ya clan climbed through the brush to the path. Daddy, being a part of the clan, stopped to talk with him.

  I pretended the flowers on the bush were bells and played a song and made the ding-dong sounds. After I finished, I glanced at Daddy. He had his arms crossed and nodded at whatever Elder Lowrey said.

  Someone walked through the brush and stood behind Elder Lowrey wearing weird clothes and a wolf hat.

  Who was that?

  I covered my mouth to hide my snickers. Not a cap with the picture of a wolf, but an actual wolf skin with the nose acting as the brim and the paws hanging down the front like a shawl.

  His clothes were like those I had seen at the museum. Deerskin shirt and pants, rawhide boots, and he wore paint on the lower half of his face. Daddy always talked to the tribe members, but Daddy ignored him. Strange.

  I moved on to the next bush because it had brighter flowers.

  “Melody, don’t get too far ahead. You need to stay in eyesight.”

  Whenever Daddy got to talking with Elder Lowrey, he always took FOR-ever. Something rustled under a bush on the other side of the path. I squatted to peer through the leaves.

  Awww. A baby fawn. It was so cute. I moved toward it slowly, not wanting to scare the poor thing. What was it doing out here all alone?

  Its nose twitched as I got close. Dropping to the ground, I crawled the last couple feet. Poor fawn. Its heart beat so fast its sides heaved with each thump.

  “It’s all right, little fawn. I won’t hurt you.” Moving the leaves aside, I crawled in the bush cave with the fawn. I hummed and held my hand out so it could get my scent.

  Gently, I laid my hand on its back. Then moved it up to the head and scratched it between the ears. My humming made it go calm. I wished I could take it home, but it would miss its mama.

  The fawn’s nose twitched, and its ears wriggled.

  Yip. Yip. Yip.

  The sound came from the right side. The fawn trembled again. I hugged it and leaned forward to peek through the leaves.

  The sound changed from yips to a whooping noise with laughter in between.

  In the gap between the ground and the bottom of the bush, four furry legs came into view. Like a big dog. Yipping, it angled toward the bush, one paw at a time.

  The fawn bleated. I moved closer to try and see a little better. The dog dropped its head and growled, baring its teeth.

  I scuttled back next to the fawn. It wasn’t a dog. It was a coyote. I needed something to scare it off.

  The fawn bleated again. I hushed it and searched for a stick or a rock. Anything I could throw.

  The growl, low and threatening, came closer.

  I found two stones. They weren’t big, but maybe they would scare off the coyote. I didn’t want it to attack the fawn. The baby was too small to defend itself against such a big bully. I had to save it.

  I crawled closer to the edge, then hunched over and hurled a stone sidearm as hard as I could through the gap.

  The rock hit the coyote’s back leg and he retreated a few paces.

  If I sneaked out from the bush, I might be able to hit the wild dog on the nose. The pain should chase it away.

  “You wait right here, little fawn.”

  On hands and knees, I inched out of the fawn’s hiding place. Peering around the bush, I looked at the coyote, which had closed in again. It was huge.

  Before throwing the rock, I checked for more ammunition. The broken tree branch a few feet away would be good. Small enough for me to throw or use like a bat, but big enough to hurt. My fist tightened over the rock.

  Now or never, Melody.

  I hurled it as hard as I could and hit the coyote smack on the nose.

  It threw its head back and howled.

  “Melody, where are you?” Daddy sounded a little panicky.

  I grabbed the tree branch and yelled at the wild dog. “Get out of here.”

  The coyote lowered its head and bared its fangs. He stalked toward me, growling.

  I raised the branch as Daddy came around the bend and stopped. He scooped up a rock and let it fly at the coyote, hitting its left flank. The rock didn’t faze it. The coyote slunk closer, keeping me in its sights.

  When it leaned back on its haunches, I swung the branch like a bat and screamed. I hit it along the side. It staggered back, then came at me again.

  Daddy didn’t have a chance to reach me before I swung the branch. Direct hit on the coyote’s head. He turned tail and ran off as Daddy scooped me up.

  “What have I taught you about confronting a coyote?” Daddy hugged me tightly, but his tone was stern. “You don’t. You stay still or make loud noises to scare it off.”

  “But Daddy ...”

  “No.” He set me on the ground and knelt in front of me. “You listen to me, Melody Rose. Coyotes are predators and they can be nasty, so you don’t confront them. Especially if they are traveling in a pack.”

  Tears filled my eyes. “But Daddy, I had to.”

  “No. The coyote attacked you.” Daddy’s frown lines deepened. “You have to respect nature, and if you can’t listen to what I’m teaching you and remember it, then we won’t be able to come on our hikes.”

  A big, fat tear slid down my cheek. “But I had to protect the fawn. The coyote was going to eat it.”

  The grooves between his eyes softened. “The fawn?”

  I moved the branches aside and crept back into the bush cave. “The coyote would have killed it.” I scratched between the fawn’s ears to calm it. “I couldn’t stand by and watch the coyote tear it apart. It’s only a baby.”

  Daddy reached into the hiding place and patted my back. “You did the right thing protecting the fawn, Melody. But if it happens again
, I want you to yell for me as loud as you can.”

  “But, what if you’re not with me? I have to be able to take care of myself. Aren’t you teaching me about life on the mountain so I can?”

  Daddy shook his head. “How did I get such a smart girl?” He backed out of the bush. “We should get on with our hike.”

  My heart lurched. “But what about the fawn? We can’t leave it here or the coyote might come back.” I had to make Daddy understand. We couldn’t leave the fawn unprotected. “What happened to its mama?”

  Daddy stood and shoved a hand in his front pocket. Then he paced next to the bush. I giggled because all I could see from inside was his boots stomping back and forth.

  His footsteps stopped. “Melody, come out here.” He whispered. “Be quiet. And listen.”

  I gave the fawn another pat and listened as hard as I could. I heard a funny buzzing noise.

  The fawn shook its head and bleated.

  “Come on, honey. Don’t wait.”

  I crawled out from the bush ready to convince Daddy we needed to stay but closed my mouth once I poked my head out. A doe stood no more than twenty feet away across the path. She made the buzzing noise again and the fawn bleated in response.

  Daddy held his hand out to help me up. “Move slowly. We don’t want to spook her.” He kept his voice soft and low.

  I’d never been closer to a doe in my life. It was taller than me. Daddy squeezed my hand and took a step back. We backed one step at a time into the thicket behind us. When we reached the trees, the doe raced to the fawn and nuzzled it through the bush.

  We stayed half hidden as the fawn rose on unsteady legs and followed its mama off into the brush.

  “Bye-bye, little fawn.” I hoped its mama would take better care of it so it wouldn’t be eaten by a coyote.

  Chapter Six

  Spring 2015 – Melody, age 16

  When the receptionist, Lily, told them they could go in, Melody opened the door, strode through, and turned to face Mrs. Langdon before she crossed the threshold.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Langdon.” Dr. Kane barely looked up from the paperwork on his desk.

  “You listen to the doc, Melody.” She shot a glance at Dr. Kane. “This one can’t wait to get here these days. Not like when she first started with you. Must be a charmer, you are.”

  The corners of Melody’s mouth twitched as she slowly closed the door in her foster mother’s face. Then she turned the lock, walked to the couch, and took her seat.

  In a few moments, Dr. Kane joined her. She held out her music player, but he shook his head.

  “I think today is the big day when you share a song with me.”

  The beginning of her smile faded as she pulled the player back. Tension spread through her shoulders and her stomach twisted. Her forehead wrinkled, shoulders hunched, and she rocked.

  Dr. Kane leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees. “You don’t need to worry. All you’re going to do is pick one song and we’ll put it on speaker. The same thing we’ve been doing for a week and a half, but this time instead of my song choice, it’ll be yours.” He leaned back. “Take your time. We’re not in a rush. Take a few deep breaths.”

  She closed her eyes.

  “That’s right. Relax. No pressure.”

  Melody bit the inside of her lip and tried to take a calming breath. She clamped her hand over the music player so tightly it bit into her palm.

  After a few moments, Dr. Kane broke through her pensiveness. “I’ve been choosing songs relating to nature, but you don’t have to. Pick what you want. It can be something about how you feel, or a song to make you smile, or something silly. It’s up to you.”

  Time slowly ticked by.

  Melody stared out the window, watching for the squirrel. When she saw his tail flitting through the leaves, she leaned against the couch back. She uncurled her fingers from the music player. Frowning, she touched the button to bring up the menu.

  She scrolled through a few songs, then stopped. She shook her head and continued scrolling. The tension crept back into her shoulders as she rejected song after song. Her knee bounced. Faster and faster she went through the songs.

  She stopped. Her hand moved to her silver necklace as she stared at the song title. The touch of the heart-shaped treble and bass clef charm comforted. She ran her thumb over the smooth bevels, following the curves, repeatedly. Chewing her lower lip, she connected the player to the speakers and pressed play.

  Dr. Kane immediately sat up and leaned forward. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then pressed a finger against his lips.

  Music filled the office—an acoustic guitar and single vocalist through the first verse. With the addition of the second verse, a piano joined. Once the music ended, Melody lunged forward and pressed the stop button.

  Tears stood in her eyes and her throat closed as she swallowed her emotion. She turned away from Dr. Kane.

  “Thank you for sharing with me. What an interesting arrangement of ‘Amazing Grace’. I don’t think I’ve heard that version before.”

  The leather squeaked as he shifted in the chair.

  Several minutes later, Melody slumped against the couch back and stared out the window.

  Dr. Kane leaned forward and stretched his hand toward the player. “You obviously have a deep connection with the song. Do you mind if I play it again?”

  He waited, hand hovering over the play button.

  Melody took a deep breath. She touched the silver charm, then let her hand fall to her lap. She met his eyes and gave a nod.

  He pressed play and the guitar chords filled the room, followed by the voice of a child.

  Chapter Seven

  April 11, 2004 – Melody, age 5

  The gravel path to the blue-faced church building had been smoothed, and the edges where the new grass made its way toward the early morning sun had been trimmed. My shoes sparkled in the sunshine as I walked up the path with Mama and Daddy on either side. I didn’t want to get a speck of dirt on my brand new shoes on this special day.

  Mama had bought me a new spring dress and pulled my hair back from my face with a matching bow. She put a hand on my shoulder and crouched to look me in the eye. “Before we go in, I have a present for you.” She pulled a small wrapped package out of her purse.

  With a huge grin, I clapped my hands. “Is it for Easter?”

  Mama held the package out to me. “It’s for your first solo.”

  After ripping off the paper, I opened a small box. Inside laid a silver charm attached to a silver chain. It looked like a heart, but crooked.

  Mama pulled the necklace out of the box and held it in front of me. “These are two musical symbols put together to make a heart.” She touched the curly upside-down ‘S’ part. “This is a treble clef for the higher notes.” She moved her finger to the part like an ear. “And this is the bass clef for the low notes.” The silver charm sparkled in the sun. “Together, they show your love of music—just like your name.”

  Mama unclasped the necklace and reached the ends around my neck to hook it together. As soon as it dropped against my chest, I snatched it up to watch it twinkle as the sun rays caught it.

  Mama stood and held out her hand. “Are you ready to go in?”

  I gripped her hand and grinned. A splinter of nervousness pricked my tummy, but excitement drowned it out. Easter was always a special day, but this Easter was even more special than all the others. I wanted to skip ahead, but then remembered about keeping my shoes clean. At least until after the service.

  An occasional rattle came from the snake case Daddy carried. Today he had his hands full because he had his guitar case in his other hand.

  Pastor Wolfson waited at the door for us. “Good morning, Fisher family. Are you ready for your part of the worship service this morning?”

  Mama ran a hand down my hair. “Melody is so excited, I’m not sure she slept last night.”

  “It’s not every five-year-old who gets thi
s opportunity.” The pastor reached for the snake case. His middle finger had turned black from the knuckle to the tip. It looked creepy.

  “I’ll take the serpents from you, Will.” He moved to the side. “Come on in and get settled.”

  I stepped through the door and turned to wait for Daddy and Mama. Daddy always said Mama looked like an angel. The sunlight shone on Mama and made her look angelic; the rays hit her reddish-gold hair and lit it like a halo.

  Daddy loved Mama’s hair. He said she got it from her Scottish mother along with her fair skin. When I asked why Mama and Uncle Harlan didn’t look much alike, Daddy told me it was because Uncle Harlan took after their black father while Mama had more traits from her mother. Then he told me not to ask about it around Uncle Harlan because he had never forgiven Mama for having lighter skin.

  Skin color seemed a funny thing not to forgive. But Uncle Harlan was always grumpy about something. And Mama’s skin got darker during the summer.

  When Mama joined me, she took my hand. “Come on. I want you to go to the bathroom before the service starts.”

  We walked down the aisle. Each of the pews had bows on them. “Why is Pastor Wolfson’s finger black, Mama?”

  “That’s not something you should ask, Melody.”

  “But—”

  She squeezed my hand. “I don’t know. And it would be impolite to ask. Maybe Pastor Wolfson doesn’t want to talk about what happened.”

  How could you not want to talk about what turned your finger black? Mama’s face paled like it did when something upset her. I bet she guessed what had happened to Pastor Wolfson.

  I stopped and gripped the end of the last pew. “My skin won’t turn black if he touches me, will it?”

  “Oh, Melody.” Mama’s tone was the one she used when I said something wrong and she pulled me forward.

  I didn’t want him to touch me with a finger that looked like it had been burned.

  Mama squeezed my hand. “You’re not going to be hurt by his finger. Now hush.”

  When I went into the cold metal stall, the tiny butterflies in my stomach started flying around. “Mama?”