First Came the Owl (11 page)

Eighteen

D
AD STAYED
in Maushope's Landing, but he didn't go home, and Nita couldn't either. Wednesday Dad came to the Stillwaters' for dinner, and Thursday he took them all out for Chinese food. Still, no one said when Ma-jah could come home, but Nita was so busy with rehearsals, she only had a few minutes to think each night before she fell asleep. Then she would see the lighthouse flashing in her mind's eye and think, Home, home! before she drowsed off.

On Friday morning, nothing seemed to go right.

“Has anyone seen my Thailand report?” asked Nita. The Stillwater breakfast table was covered with cereal bowls, geology journals, yesterday's mail, and one red mitten, but no Thailand report appeared in the jumble.

“I can't find my Thailand report,” said Nita. She searched in her school bag and knocked over the jam.

“Your report's in the fruit bowl under the bananas, of course,” said Petrova. “Hey, we glued your coffin together again yesterday. I hear you wrecked it the first time, so could you
please
be more careful?”

Mrs. S. looked at Nita. “Your coffin?”

“For the play,” muttered Nita. She found her report in the fruit bowl and headed out of there before anyone could ask another question.

All week, she'd managed to forget the last act of the play when she had to get in that damned, yes
damned,
coffin. Just calling it that made her feel a little bit better, but at the rehearsal, when David and the dwarfs carried it in from the back porch of the school, Nita shivered. An actual cold shudder ran up her spine.

“Three of us on each side and one for her head,” said the dwarf Pokey.

“I don't think I can,” said Nita, and her heart thumped.

“Yes, get in,” said Sleepy. “I'd love to get in there and snore.”

“But drop it very carefully, guys,” said Amy.

“
Very
carefully,” said David, “or the sides will fall off, and that will look ridiculous.”

“I really don't want to,” said Nita.

“You have to. And you have to be dropped. Otherwise, how will the poison apple get unstuck from your throat? Trust us, Nita,” said Amy. Her brown eyes were serious.

It was hard to say no to Amy.

Nita couldn't believe she was doing it, but once more she got into the plastic box and let them close the lid. She took a deep breath and shut her eyes. And like a vision, the snowy owl, soaring over the beach, sprang into her waiting mind. Her breathing slowed down and she rested.

A loud whisper made her eyes fly open. Henry knelt by the coffin and practically spit his words through the air holes. “Oh, Princess S. W.,” he slobbered, “I cannot live without you.”

No one heard him but Nita.

“Speak up, Henry,” said Amy. “Throw your voice to the back of the room.”

Henry stood up and stomped off the stage. This time he galloped in, as if he were on a prancing horse. He waved his sword toward the coffin. “I must have her,” he shouted. “Get going, dwarfs, and carry her to my castle.”

Nita lay in the plastic coffin. Through the plastic she could see Henry waving his sword. It looked like a crazy world out there with Henrys in it. Right now, I don't mind it in here. At least I'm protected from the spit.

“Time out,” called Amy. Her words came faintly to Nita.

Saved! David opened the coffin and Nita sat up to see what had called a halt to the action. Sounds got louder and there was a bustle around the door.

“Ma!” said Henry. He tripped over his sword as he headed toward a large pile of clothes that was moving into the room on two little legs. “Is that you, Ma?”

“In here,” said a muffled voice from the pile of clothes. The clothes landed on a desk, and Mrs. Sporoni rubbed her back. “There now. Costumes. Dwarf jackets and a fabulous skirt for you, Anita, if I do say so myself.” Mrs. Sporoni beamed at Nita, even if she didn't get her name right, and brought the fabulous skirt over to her. It was embroidered with white flowers that had embroidered holes. You could see the pale pink underskirt through the cutwork.

Nita fingered the fabric shyly. “Did you do all that fancy sewing?” she asked.

“Lord, no,” said Mrs. Sporoni. “It's my old tablecloth. Doesn't it look great? Get out of your coffin, lovey, and I'll slip it over your head.”

The waist fit perfectly and the silk underskirt rustled when Nita walked. Maybe being in the play wouldn't be so bad, wearing this dress. On the other hand, she could see how it was: they dress you all up in pretty clothes and then you have to marry Henry. She would have to read more of Anne's fairy-tale books to see if there was a way out of this destiny.

“Roll up your jeans,” said Anne. “What a great skirt. But you can't wear sneakers. You can borrow my pink ballet shoes if you like.”

“You guys look pretty girlie,” said Henry to Nita and Brenda, who was posing in slinky black silk.

His mother squelched him with a glance. “Get your homework together, Prince Henry,” she ordered. “My coach won't wait.”

Henry went off as meek as a lamb. Brenda stabbed her long fingernails in the direction of his retreating back in a witch's hex.

“See, that wasn't so bad, was it, Nita?” said Amy with a grin. “I guess you've put off the carrying until next week. Last rehearsals next week, guys! See you then.” She pulled on her jacket.

Suddenly, the play seemed awfully real. Am I really going to get up there in front of all those people? Don't think about it, Nita told herself fiercely, you'll just scare yourself to death, and then you
will
need a coffin. “Anne,” she said, “will you walk down to the base with me? Dad's going to take me to see Mom and he'll give you a ride home.”

“Sure, and we could take the long-cut and go see the pigeons.”

They put all the clothes away carefully and went out into the darkening afternoon. The sky was streaked with red over the harbor and the water was a steely dark blue. Nita took a deep breath of the chilly air as she watched the red winter sun slip below the horizon.

Nineteen

W
HEN THE TWO
girls reached the parking lot, one plain dark gray bird with a tiny head balanced on the railing of the bridge, its outline etched against the sunset exactly like a shadow puppet.

Another pigeon flapped up under the bridge and several others bobbed along the pavement. A pink-green-purple sheen livened up their dark gray necks, like an oil slick on a rain puddle.

“Why did the story say ‘but at last came the dove'?” Anne wondered. “I mean, why ‘
but
at last,' as if some great thing was going to happen?”

“Well, some great thing
did
happen. Ma-jah talked! It means the bemoaning worked! Snow White woke up, Ma-jah talked. It was like … like going back to normal life.”

“Look! That pigeon's got a little stick,” said Anne. “Do you think it's making a nest? In January?” They watched the heavy bird flap up under the bridge.

“I think it means Ma-jah's coming home, back to
our
nest,” said Nita.

“Petrova would say it's just a coincidence,” said Anne. “But, I hope it's true.”

They left the pigeons and found Dad just coming out of the main Coast Guard building. “Hi, Anne. Hi, Nita,” he said. “Do you want to eat supper here? They're having meat loaf.” Dad knew Nita loved Coast Guard meat loaf.

“Can I call my parents?” asked Anne. Good smells drifted down the hall. Nita sniffed hungrily as Anne dialed home from the petty officer's desk.

The dining room was like a little restaurant, all brown and shiny. They got their trays and found a table in the corner, where Nita's red sweatshirt stood out among all the dark blue uniforms. There was a clatter of dishes, and people smiled to see Dad with her and Anne. It was cozy at the Coast Guard base, like living in the woods with the dwarfs. Dad looked like he wished he could stay right here forever. Nita could see why.

Captain Pudge came by and beamed at them. “That window's just about finished,” he said.

Dad smiled back. “Great! We really want to move back in this weekend.”

“Yay!” said Nita. “How about tomorrow?” She grabbed Dad's hand and squeezed it. “I love your meat loaf, Captain P—uh, Vanderpost.”

He patted his round stomach. “So do I,” he said, “made it myself, that's the only way to get what you want around here!” The men at the next table burst out laughing.

Dad pushed back his chair. “Let's go, girls,” he said. “We've got to get to the hospital.” He bussed his tray and waved good-bye to his buddies. Nita gulped down her milk, and the girls hurried after him.

After they dropped off Anne, the problem that had been nagging away at Nita came back to her.

“Dad, why does Snow White have to marry Prince Henry? I mean, he's kind of weird. Even when he thought she was dead, he wanted to keep her at his castle like something in a museum.”

“It's only a story,” said Dad, as he pulled into the visitors' parking lot.

“It's like how you want Mom to stay in the lighthouse while you go to sea, or out with your dwar—Coast Guard buddies.”

Dad stopped the car. “Is
that
what you think?” He gave Nita an intense look out of his blue eyes. Then he rubbed his forehead. “Maybe you're right. I like knowing you guys are there, my beautiful princesses in our lighthouse tower.” He smiled.

Maybe I can talk to Mom—Ma-jah—about the prince problem, thought Nita. Dad doesn't understand.

*   *   *

“Dad says it's only a story, but why does the story have to be like that?” asked Nita later.

Once more, Ma-jah was in her chair and Nita was curled up on Ma-jah's bed. Dad had gone to talk to the doctor.

“Just because the apple gets unstuck from her throat when the dwarfs drop her, it doesn't mean she has to get married,” Nita argued. “Just because the Prince wants to marry her doesn't mean she wants to marry
him.
”

Ma-jah smiled. “Maybe she is grateful to the prince who has saved her from the demon owl.”

Boy, she still didn't like owls. “Even in Thailand, it always has to be the prince?”

“Oh, yes,” said Ma-jah.

“And was Dad your prince?”

“Oh, yes,” said Ma-jah. “He saved me. My family was afraid we would lose the farm. It was just like a story—of the rich neighbor and the poor mango farmer. My family wanted me to marry the son of the rich neighbor, but I didn't like him.”

“They
did?
” Nita could not imagine Ma-jah married to anyone but Dad.

“But then,” said Ma-jah, “I met your father and went to America with him.”

“What about the farm?”

“My sister married the son of the rich neighbor. Remember, we visited the farm when you were little?”

“Yes, I remember! Where there were lizards.”

“Jing-jok,”
said Ma-jah. “I'm glad you remember.” A faint smile lingered on her face. Nita loved watching it. I never knew all those things about Ma-jah, she thought. Parents are like opening a book in the middle, a book that has all those chapters before you were born.

“Did your sister like the rich farmer's son?”

“I think so.” Ma-jah closed her eyes.

Nita tiptoed out of the room. “She talks more and more every time, doesn't she?” she said to Dad in the hallway.

As they headed out to the car, she asked, “When can she come home?”

“I'm going to talk to the doctor again tomorrow,” said Dad.

“Next week's the play,” said Nita.

“Nita, I really don't want you to count on Mom coming to the play. The noise, the crowd—it will all be too much for her, I'm afraid. But I'll be there, with bells on.”

“Bells?” Nita looked at him, imagining him in a jester hat or as a horse with a sleigh-bell harness. Why was he talking about stupid bells, when Mom wasn't even going to come to her play?

“Not real bells,” he said. “It means, I'm looking forward to it.” He took a deep breath and added, “And I'm looking forward to moving back to our castle tomorrow. I'll come and get you first thing.” The car stopped in front of the Stillwaters' house.

Nita threw her arms around Dad's neck and kissed him on the cheek. “I'll get up early! Good night, Dad.”

One minute she felt so angry because he didn't understand
anything
and the next minute she loved him again. More opposite things, thought Nita, as she got out in the cold and ran inside the house.

Twenty

N
ITA AND DAD
spent Saturday morning unpacking clothes, watering orchids, arranging the quilt on the bed, and buying groceries.

“We've got to have something besides eggs,” said Nita. “Maybe I could learn to make the Captain's meat loaf.”

“I bet you could,” said Dad as he lugged the big bag of birdseed out to the feeder.

Nita called Captain Pudge at the base and got his recipe, or at least what he
said
was his recipe. It started: first, catch a cow. Maybe they'd just eat the hamburger they'd already bought.

The new window looked really good, and they arranged all the orchids on the built-in shelves. The little mouths on the orchids didn't say any mean things to Nita this morning.

It was so great to be home that Nita didn't miss Mom as much as she thought she would. Getting things ready for her was almost as good as her being there.

Nita watched out the window for the owls as she worked. She thought she saw one lift off far down the beach. Dad got a glimpse of the white bird, too, and Nita hoped they wouldn't go away.

“Dad, can you help me with my Thailand report? I forgot to bring home my library book,” said Nita.