Make Me Howl

by Susan Shay

  Mrs. N laughed. “Wait until she’s married and has children. Her over-achieving days will be over.”

  Mr. N nodded in complete agreement with his wife.

  I almost laughed at the notion that my super professional sister would let anything, even a husband or family, keep her from advancing in her chosen career. But that would only hurt the elderly couple’s feelings. And I’d never do anything to hurt them.

  We chatted a little longer, then I said good night, but when I started for the door, Mr. Newkirk went with me.

  Surprised at his actions, I tried to dissuade him. “I’ll be just fine, Mr. N. You stay here with the missus.”

  His brows dipped low over his eyes in a frown. “Now you don’t think I’m going to let you walk home alone in the dark, do you? I couldn’t do that.”

  I knew the battle was lost before we’d ever started. “All right, but just to the back door. No need to come in.”

  He nodded in agreement. We walked a few steps then he said, “If you don’t have plans for tomorrow, how about wetting a line with me in the morning?”

  Suddenly I was excited I’d decided to come. It had been years since I’d taken time to fish. “In Grandma’s pond? I’d love to.”

  “And I’ll let you have dibs on the willow tree,” he teased, his laugh sounding like dead leaves, rustling in the wind.

  When we were kids, Bella and I fought for the position by the willow tree each time we fished. “Well, that’s the best spot on the whole pond.”

  “Will you be over for breakfast? Mrs. N will make whatever you’d like.”

  “Please thank her, but tell her not to bother. I usually just have a cup of coffee.”

  He nodded. “All right then. I’ll meet you at the barn to pick out our poles about eleven o’clock.”

  “Good night.” I gave him a swift hug, then opened the screen on the back porch and stepped inside.

  He ambled back toward the cottage, strolling along as if it were the middle of the afternoon. I watched him as far as I could see him, hoping he wouldn’t fall.

  When I finally heard the slam of their door echo through the still night, I went into the house. Although I’d thought I might search some more, I was so tired, I decided to go straight to bed.

  The next morning, I awoke filled with a burning energy to find those journals. I fixed a pot of coffee then took a quick bath in the claw-foot tub while it perked. Dressing quickly, I went back to the kitchen, poured myself a cup and took it with me upstairs.

  There were three bedrooms on one side of the hallway and one huge bedroom on the other. I started in the big bedroom. When I opened the door, I remembered why Bella and I never asked to sleep in there. There were no pictures on the wall, no homey quilts on the beds. Just two double beds, made up with sheets and blankets. No dressers. No bookshelves.

  Getting on my knees, I looked under the beds, hoping I might find the diaries boxed up, but no luck. Then I checked the bedrooms on the other side. Each a cozy room, ready for a family member to move into at a moment’s notice. And while there were dressers and bookshelves in each room, there were no journals.

  I was stunned. What had Grandma done with those books? I’d looked in every conceivable place in the entire house. There was no attic and no basement. The only other place I could think to look was the barn, and I really didn’t think she would have put them there.

  Maybe she’d taken them with her.

  With a glance at my watch, I saw it was almost time to meet Mr. N out at the barn. Picking up my now empty cup, I went back to the kitchen and filled it again. After unplugging the pot, I left by the backdoor and walked across the lawn to the barnyard gate. After turning the small board that served as a latch, I pushed it open and walked through, closing it behind me.

  I walked slowly so I wouldn’t scare the chickens pecking in the grass. When I got to the barn door, I saw Mrs. N there with her husband. “Have you found a newborn interest in fishing or are you afraid I’m going to steal your husband?” I asked.

  “I’ve always liked to fish, Miss Smarty,” she answered, her voice sharp with teasing. “But I had too many chores to loaf at the pond with the rest of you lollygaggers.”

  “And you’ve decided you have time to loaf today?”

  She nodded once. “Yes.”

  When Mrs. N had picked out her cane pole, I took one that wasn’t too thick and had a large red and white float on it. Mr. N took a pole like mine, then picked up a rusted coffee can that had holes poked in the lid.

  We passed through the gate that led into the pasture, then walked across the dead grass toward the best fishing hole on Grandma’s farm. It took a few minutes to get there. I wondered if the Newkirks wouldn’t benefit from the purchase of a golf cart or four-wheeler to use on the place.

  If I were to suggest it to them, though, it would probably insult them. When we got to the water’s edge, we stopped near the old willow that grew at an angle out over the pond. Mr. Newkirk sat on the trunk of the willow that was just the right height to be a bench, balanced his pole against the tree and opened the coffee can.

  “Looks to me like you’ve opened a real can of worms,” I quipped.

  “Speaking of a can of worms, why didn’t your sister come with you?” Mrs. Newkirk asked.

  I smiled. “No, we aren’t fighting, if that’s what you’re wondering. I just decided to come on the spur of the moment, and she has responsibilities at the zoo.”

  Mrs. Newkirk’s smile brightened as if she’d been truly worried about Bella and me. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. How are your folks?”

  “They’re fine.” If they weren’t, I was sure Mom would have let us know. She was never one to keep secrets.

  When Mr. Newkirk had put a worm on his hook, he pushed himself to his feet and set the can where he’d been sitting. “Gabby women. Bait your own hooks,” he mumbled and wandered toward the other side of the pond.

  I picked up the can and held it for Mrs. N. She grabbed a worm as if she’d done it every day of her life and baited her hook. When I had my wiggly little guy on the hook, I put the lid back on the can and tossed my hook into the water.

  The float bobbed on the water for a few moments as I hiked one hip onto the bare willow tree. As I settled in to wait, I heard Mrs. N humming softly under her breath. It was such a peaceful scene with the golden shades of winter-killed grass surrounding the pond, and farther on, the russet colors of sumac bushes. Probably the same sumac bushes that first taught me about my allergy.

  All so different from the mad whirl I’d left behind in Dallas.

  Before long my float sank, bringing a yelp from Mrs. N, who pointed at the place where my fishing line had been yanked deep in the water.

  Reverting to instructions from childhood, I jerked my line to set the hook and hauled what I assumed would by a small perch out of the water. Instead of a perch, though, I pulled out a glossy black catfish that clicked at me as soon as he broke water.

  Mr. N pulled his line from the water and, carrying his pole, came around the pond to take my fish, put him on the stringer and placed him back in the water. “We can let him go later if we don’t catch enough for a mess.”

  As soon as my catch was submerged, Mrs. N caught a large perch. We went back and forth until we had more than enough for a meal.

  “I reckon that’s plenty. We might as well pack up and go in for lunch,” Mrs. Newkirk said, winking at me as she talked.

  “Since when did ‘let’s go fishing’ mean ‘come to the pond so you can take the fish off our lines?’ I didn’t get to catch one because I had to help you two dag burn females,” Mr. N pretended to grumble. “Jazzy, I’ll carry the fish if you can get my pole as well as yours.”

  I nodded, happy to carry Mr. Newkirk’s for him. After we got back to the barn, I helped Mrs. Newkirk put away the fishing equipment then we went into their house, washed up and prepared to fry the fish while Mr. N cleaned them. When he brought them inside, we had the breading ready, the oil
hot and the potatoes oven frying.

  We sat down to the freshest fish dinner I’d had since the last time I was there, and although I didn’t find Grandma Maleva’s journals, I didn’t feel as though the trip had been a waste. Somehow, being there in Grandma’s home and spending time with these two people, who she’d been so close to, gave me a feeling of renewal.

  After we’d cleaned up the dishes, I told the old couple goodbye, went back to Grandma’s house and packed up my car. After checking to be sure the house was locked up, I stowed my gear in the Z, got into the driver’s seat and was just putting the car into reverse when I saw Mr. Newkirk coming out of his house, a large brown box in his hands. Mrs. N followed right behind.

  When they saw me in my car, she started waving for all she was worth. “I have something of your grandma’s and I think it’s time you kept it,” she called as she rushed toward me.

  I killed the engine. Getting out, I went to meet them. Mrs. N took my arm and turned me, so I walked back to the car with them. “Your grandma asked me to keep these until one of you were in a position to warrant passing them on. I think you might be there now.”

  Mr. N held the box out to me, so I opened the lid. There inside were Grandma’s journals.

  “How did you know I was looking for those?” I asked, my voice cloudy with emotion.

  “Just a hunch.” Mrs. N pulled me with her to my car then opened the passenger door. “Put them in the seat, James. She’ll want to have them close to her, I’m thinking.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he answered. “I aim to please.”

  “Oh, you.” Mrs. N waited while her husband put the books inside the car then hugged him. “I’d never be able to get along without you.”

  “That’s been my plan all along.” He gave me a wink then hugged me. “Don’t stay away so long next time. And tell that sister of yours to come see us and bring her beau with her.”

  I thought about my ultra-professional sister. “I’m afraid she’ll have to come alone. She’s too busy at the zoo to have a boyfriend.”

  “Well, she’ll get over that,” Mrs. Newkirk answered. “Soon as she sets eyes on the man she was meant for.”

  Getting back into the car, I buckled up and, with one hand resting on the journals, backed down the driveway. As I drove away from the farm, I almost wished I had a job that would make it easier for me to spend time there. But as soon as Christmas was over, I’d be heavy into cruise season. And I hadn’t met a woman yet who thought she had all the clothes, or the right styles, to go on a cruise.

  For some reason, the trip home is always faster for me than when I go somewhere, and this time was no exception. When I got home, I parked my car in the garage then struggled to carry my bag and the box of journals up to the apartment with me.

  I got to the door and knocked, hoping Bella would let me in, but after several moments, I set the box down and flipped through my keychain for the right key. After opening the door, I put my bags inside, then picked up the box and carried it in with me.

  I almost dropped it when I found Bella, sleeping on the couch in front of the TV. Setting the box on the coffee table, I gave her a shake then crashed in the chair next to her.

  Finally she blinked at me then sat up, rubbing her eyes like a little girl. “Did you just get home?”

  “Just this minute,” I answered.

  “From work?”

  “How hard were you sleeping?” I asked as worry weighed in my stomach. “It’s Sunday. Remember? I went to Grandma’s farm for the weekend. Didn’t you see my note?”

  She stared at me for a moment as if she had no idea what I’d said, then glanced toward the kitchen, where I’d left the note written in chalk. “Oh. Oh, yeah. I forgot for a moment. I must have been dead for all counts. What time is it?”

  “A little before six.” She looked pale, which added to my worry. “Want to go out and get something to eat?”

  She shook her head. “I’m really not hungry. Why don’t we just warm up some chicken noodle soup tonight?”

  That meal had always been reserved for only when we were ill. “Are you feeling okay?” I asked as alarm shot through me.

  “I’m fine,” she insisted. “Just not hungry.”

  Maybe if I give her time to wake up a little, she’ll get hungry. Even after having that great fish dinner for lunch, I was starving. “Do we have any chicken noodle soup?”

  “Yes,” she answered, her tone chiding. “I keep several cans, just in case.”

  Deciding to humor her, I got to my feet and went to the kitchen. I opened a couple of cans, poured them in a pot and turned the flame on low under it.

  “Did you get any Christmas shopping done while I was gone?” I called.

  After several moments, I heard a loud yawn then Bella answered, “None. I can’t begin to think what we’re going to give Mom and Dad.”

  “Something from a store near them to make it easy for her to take back.” I took crackers, bowls, soup spoons and small plates from a cupboard and set them on the table.

  Bella chuckled at my joke. “She can’t help it if she has discerning taste.”

  I snorted as I gave the soup a stir. “Her taste isn’t all that discerning. She just can’t stand for us to buy her something that she’d use. She wants to be the discoverer.”

  “Then let’s give them a cruise.”

  I knew Bella would think of something. “Good one. But it’ll have to be the best cruise around. Otherwise, she’ll take it back for a different destination.”

  Bella giggled. “She probably will anyway.”

  I watched the steam rising from the pan as I tried to think of a place Mom would die to go. “We could send them on a cruise to Hawaii.”

  “They flew to Hawaii two years ago. Remember?” Bella wandered into the kitchen and dropped into a chair at the table. “She’d have a been-there-done-that whine if they actually took the trip.”

  “True.” I waited a few more moments until the soup started to bubble around the edges, then ladled it into bowls and set one in front of Bella. I pulled one close to me.

  Bella picked up her spoon and took a hesitant bite. Then, as if it were the best soup on the planet, she dug in.

  “Taste all right?” I asked, taking a bite to see if it tasted as good as she made it look. It didn’t.

  “Oh, yes. It’s delicious. And these crackers are wonderful. What kind are they?”

  If I hadn’t known Bella so well, I’d have wondered what she’d been smoking. She sounded as if she had the 420 munchies. “The same kind we always eat. Whole wheat sodas.”

  “Well these are great.”

  I took a bite of one, but it was the usual dry, crumble-into-dust cracker. She ate for several minutes, emptying her bowl, without saying a word. When she’d filled it again, I stared at her. She didn’t usually eat like this.

  “Didn’t you eat anything at all while I was gone?” I teased her.

  She looked at me as she thought, then she lowered her gaze as her cheeks turned a dull pink. “I ate while you were gone. Almost everything in the place. We’ll probably have to go shopping if you’re going to want anything this week.”

  Which pretty much explained the soup for supper. She wasn’t sick. She’d just polished off the rest of the food in the place. I gave her a quick smile. “Well, a growing girl has to eat. We’ll go shopping after we do the dishes.”

  She blinked at me as if I’d thought of something new and awe inspiring. “That’s a great idea.”

  “And since I cooked, that means…”

  “I know. I have to do the dishes.” She picked up her bowl, put it to her mouth and drained it, something I hadn’t seen her do since we were three. She was always so fastidious, I was shocked.

  When she set it down, she glanced at my bowl to see if I had anything left.

  “Sorry. I didn’t save you any.” I didn’t try to hide the amusement in my voice.

  She glared at me. I swear, if she’d been a werewolf, she’d have grow
led. “I’m starving to death and you think it’s funny.”

  “No, I don’t.” I picked up my dirty dishes. “Tell you what. I’ll help with the dishes then we can go to the store sooner.”

  She shook her head. “You only offered because there’s not much to do.”

  “Right.”

  With a chuckle, she opened the dishwasher and started rinsing and loading while I put away the crackers, salt and pepper.

  As I washed off the table and stove she finished up and went back into the living room. “I’m going to change clothes then we’ll go. Okay?” I called.

  “Anytime you’re ready.”

  In my bedroom, I swiftly tossed the clothes from my bag into the hamper, put away my other things, and changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a medium weight sweater. After slipping into a leather jacket, I went back into the living room to find Bella asleep. Again.

  Alarmed that she’d dropped off so quickly—I couldn’t have been more than ten minutes—I got on my knees in front of her and shook her. “Bella? Are you okay?”

  She jerked as if I’d startled her. “Yes. I’m fine.” She tried to hide a yawn, but wasn’t successful.

  “Why are you sleeping so much? Didn’t you get any rest at all last night?”

  “Yes, I did. In fact, I didn’t go anywhere. I just…slept.”

  That worried me. I got to my feet, then taking her hand, I pulled her up. “If this doesn’t stop, we’re taking you to the doctor to see what’s wrong.”

  She sighed, but then nodded. “All right. But we’ll probably find out I just need vitamins.”

  “Then we’ll buy you vitamins.”

  At the store, we did a role reversal. I spent most of my time picking out healthy food and putting back the junk food Bella tossed in the cart.

  Talk about an upside down world. Usually I was the one who wanted instant junk food.

  When we checked out, I found that she’d been able to sneak a package of chips and a bag of candy bars into the cart. She was much better at getting the bad stuff past me than I was at getting it past her.

  I should have taken notes.