“Do you think Dad sent Henrietta?” asked Glory.
“I don’t think so, but I know he’s going to be happy to meet her when he does.”
Mrs. Johanaby came out the screen door. “Look what I found,” she said, holding up a bag of marshmallows. “They’re getting a little hard, but they might still puff up over the fire. Joey, can you cut some willows from the tree?”
Joey got up and walked around the tree searching for suitable branches. They hadn’t roasted marshmallows since Mr. Johanaby had died. He paused and looked at his family on the other side of the tree. They were happy tonight. Story and Glory leaned forward on their hands and knees to try to light the ends of twigs on fire. Mrs. Johanaby, her face glowing in the firelight, smiled as she watched them. The “don’t play with fire” warning was barely restrained in her throat. The only one missing was his dad.
He’s not here, but he’s not gone, Joey thought. Joey felt as happy as he had ever been in his life. Maybe happier. A little breeze moved the warm, night air. The chimes high above tinkled. Glory and Story both looked up and said together, “Henrietta.” To Joey, Henrietta or not, it was a beautiful sound.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Although an avid reader all of his life, Tory Anderson didn’t discover the magic of writing until he was in college. By the time he graduated with a master’s degree in English he had plans of doing nothing but writing for a living. However, his own story had surprises in store. The need to support a wife and eight children distracted him from writing for many years. The hundreds of stories he read to his children inspired him to pick up the pen once more. He lives in Levan, Utah, with his wife and five of their eight children who still remain at home.
You can contact Tory at [email protected]
Joey and the Magic Map Page 24
