The Summer Kitchen

by Lisa Wingate

  But a minute was long enough, and now it had been five minutes, maybe ten while we were looking for her. Opal could be anywhere by now. I pictured her running down the street, and I couldn’t even breathe. What if she ran out in front of a car? What if she got lost and didn’t know where she was? What if she wandered down by the highway bridge where the homeless people hung out?

  Another idea hit me so hard it took my breath. What if she didn’t run away at all? What if someone grabbed her? What if Kiki and Uncle Len came back, and they saw her, and took her while Ronnie and Boo weren’t looking?

  If Kiki came to get her, Opal probably wouldn’t even fuss. She’d just let her mama take her by the hand and lead her away without a word.

  Chapter 19

  SandraKaye

  “Mom, what’s going on?” Christopher stared agape at the collection of people waiting in line on Poppy’s driveway. There were groups of young children with older siblings, two elderly women who stopped to talk to Holly and give her a hug as they crossed the porch, a stooped-over man who, judging from his clothes and his backpack, was homeless, and a group of teenage girls, slightly embarrassed and slightly curious, as they eyed the food table with interest. Behind the table, Holly was pouring drinks. The front door swung open, and Angel came out carrying a large aluminum pan filled with sandwiches.

  A young Hispanic woman had stopped on the lawn with her children, and they were having a picnic of sorts on a bright Mexican blanket next to the real estate sign, which Teddy had surrounded with transplanted iris, as if it were part of the yard décor. The young mother was taking care to keep her children from crushing the new plants. She gave Christopher and me a strange look as we exited our car and stood on the curb.

  “Mom?” Chris muttered, his voice uncertain.

  I couldn’t formulate an answer. I was still busy taking it all in. How in the world, in just a few days, could a couple dozen sandwiches turn into a line halfway down the driveway?

  The answer was simple, of course. Behind the crumbling yard fences, and the windows covered with cardboard and threadbare sheets, and the leaning front porches overgrown with weeds and old plantings, there were people for whom a free sandwich mattered enough to walk down the street and stand in line in someone’s driveway.

  “Holly didn’t tell me there were so many now,” I muttered. Over the past few days, communication between Holly and me had been rushed and limited. I was preoccupied with Christopher’s problems, and Holly was busy. Obviously.

  “So many … what?” Chris pulled off his baseball cap, scratched his head, and put his cap back on.

  “People,” I answered absently, experiencing a rising sense of panic at the idea that the situation at Poppy’s house was rapidly snowball ing. All I’d asked Holly to do was come down here, check on the kids, and make a few sandwiches. I hadn’t intended for anything like this to happen. Even though the action on the front porch was orderly, the situation seemed bizarre and almost surreal. “She didn’t tell me there were so many people.” Every time I’d asked Holly if things were all right at Poppy’s house, she’d responded, Oh, sure. Word’s getting around now that school’s out, I think. Your little friend came by and helped me make sandwiches today. I told her you were busy at the hospital with Christopher …

  It was just like Holly to keep all of this to herself. She probably didn’t want to worry me, but now I was worried … or in a state of shock. Something big had been set in motion here.

  Chris pointed tentatively at Holly. “Why’s Mrs. Riley handing out food on Poppy’s porch?”

  “It’s a long story,” I said, and gave a brief history of the restoration projects at Poppy’s; the handicapped lady at Wal-Mart; the kids digging in the Dumpster; Cass, Opal, and the sandwiches.

  My son’s mouth hung open, and he blinked at me as if I’d grown two heads—as if he were certain I’d slap him on the shoulder any moment, laugh, and one of the heads would say, Gotcha! You didn’t really believe all that, right? We’d laugh at the joke, I’d turn back into his normal mom, and there would be some logical explanation for the mini-horde of people on Poppy’s lawn and the serving line on the porch.

  “Ha-loo-oo!” Teddy came out the door, spotted us by the curb, and waved. “Ha-loo, lady. You comin’ back. I put the door on closets, ho-kay?”

  Chris stiffened, owl-eyed. “What the heck?”

  “That’s Teddy. He does the gardens down at the church on the corner. I hired him to help with the yard work.” I’d left Teddy out of the initial story. It seemed best to lead Christopher into Mom’s Alien World a bit at a time. Unfortunately, the new reality of Poppy’s house and the summer kitchen was rushing out to meet him faster than I could contain it.

  “Oh,” Chris murmured, with a cautionary look that reminded me of Rob. I could only imagine, if it were Rob driving up on this scene, what he would say. Now that I’d brought Christopher here, I’d have to tell my husband, too.

  How would I ever explain all this?

  Holly followed Teddy’s wave and spotted us. “Oh, hey!” she called as she changed out sandwich trays. “Hey, Christopher, don’t you look great! You’re back on your feet again!”

  “Hi, Mrs. Riley.” Christopher returned an embarrassed greeting, and the teenage girls in the driveway glanced over to check him out.

  Holly gave her place in the serving line to a woman I’d never seen before. Still sporting a bubbly smile, my best friend trotted down the steps and across the lawn, lighter than air. “You look so good!” She gave Christopher a hug. “Your mom didn’t tell me you were getting out today.” She turned what was supposed to be a stern expression in my direction. “You should have told me Chris was getting out. I would have baked him some brownies.” For Holly, brownies were a home remedy for everything from skinned knees to broken hearts.

  “Holly, what’s going on?” I motioned to the yard. Three more kids had just come from somewhere across the street. The line was growing.

  “What?” Holly chirped innocently.

  “Holly …” Leveling a grave look at her, I pointed to the line.

  “We’ve … uhhh … grown … a little?” she replied cheerfully, then lifted her arms and twisted first to one side, then the other, displaying herself like a fashion model on the runway. “But not me. I’ve lost four and a half pounds. Gosh, this place keeps you busy. I don’t know how you did it by yourself. I couldn’t keep up after the first couple days, even with the help of your little friend over there.” She motioned to Angel, who was now handing out drinks and telling children in no uncertain terms not to spill.

  “Angel’s been here helping?”

  Holly nodded. “She showed up the first morning, just like you said she would. She’s been here every day like clockwork. Usually she has her little brothers with her. I don’t know where they are today.”

  Christopher’s head swiveled back and forth between Holly and me, his face pinched with confusion. I was baffled myself.

  “But where’s Cass?”

  Holly stopped with her lips parted and a new stream of words about to tumble out. “Cass … who?”

  “The girl who was helping me. Cass. About five five, blond, blue eyes, around twelve or thirteen years old… .” Holly’s expression said that nothing was ringing a bell. “She always has a little preschool-aged girl with her—dark curly hair, green eyes, kind of quiet. A pretty little girl. Opal.”

  “Oh!” Holly’s face took on a look of recognition, and I felt a quick burst of relief. Unless something was wrong, there was no way Cass and Opal would turn their territory over to Angel. All the time I’d been gone, I’d been assuming that when Holly said everything was fine at Poppy’s house, she meant that Cass and Opal were fine, too. I never dreamed that the sandwich helper had suddenly, inexplicably become Angel.

  “That must be who Teddy was talking about,” Holly added. “He kept asking something the first day, but I couldn’t figure out what he was trying to tell me. First he was saying, ‘Where’s the girl
and the other girl?’ And then it sounded like he was asking, ‘Where’s the gas for the Opal?’ ” Leaning close, she held a hand beside her mouth and whispered, “He’s a little hard to understand sometimes. I think I confuse him, but he’s very sweet. He’s been helping with the sandwiches, too. The lady from next door comes over, sometimes, but if we’re going to keep this up, San, we’ll need more help. I’m not sure sandwiches are the most efficient menu item, though. I’ve been counting up the food costs a little, and I was thinking, if I brought the catering dishes, we could cook big batches of …” Holly stopped to study my face. “What? I don’t like that look. Now you’re worrying me.”

  “I can’t imagine why Cass and Opal wouldn’t be coming by … ,” I muttered.

  Pulling her lip between her teeth, Holly tightened the bow on the cook’s apron she must have brought from home. “Okay, time out. I think we’re talking on at least three different wavelengths. Let’s start over. You had the sandwich thing going on here. You couldn’t come while Chris was in the hospital, so I came. There was a girl who showed up to help, but it’s the wrong girl … right? But now we don’t know why the right girl didn’t come here … right?” She ended the sentence by bobbing her head like a marionette. I might have laughed, but I was too worried.

  “Hey, we need some help here!” Angel called from the porch. “The drinks got spilt!” On the table, a half dozen cups had tipped over, and red liquid was streaming onto the floor. In a panic, Teddy was trying to hold back the flood with his hands.

  “Oh, shoot,” Holly muttered. Chris and I followed her to the porch and helped clean up the mess while Teddy and Angel stood in front of the table and finished handing out sandwiches. I asked Angel why Cass hadn’t been coming.

  “Opal got the flu,” Angel answered, seeming unconcerned. “They been stayin’ home. I’m gonna take ’em some sam’iches.”

  “Is Opal all right?”

  “Yeah, she all right.” Angel shrugged. “Cass keepin’ Ronnie and Boo today, too.”

  As I finished wiping the porch floor, I rolled the situation around in my mind, trying to mold it into something that made sense.

  I ended up under the table with Christopher and a pile of soggy paper towels.

  “Mom … ,” he said, but before he could finish, there was a commotion in the yard, and when I stood up, Cass was there. She looked pale and panicked as she tried to hand Boo and Ronnie off to Angel. Holly rushed toward her, and I dropped the paper towels and followed.

  Cass met me near the walkway. “Is Opal here? Did Opal come over? I can’t … did you see Op … Opal? I can’t find …” The words were tangled in an almost unintelligible jumble of gasping sobs.

  I grabbed her hands to hold her still. “Ssshhhh. Cass. Calm down. Take a deep breath. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “Op …” She choked again on the word, stopped, swallowed, tried a second time. “Opal’s gone. She just … we were at the book … at the store. She was only outside a minute. I was watching. I kept looking. Ronnie and Boo got in a fight … I can’t find her! She’s gone!”

  “Opal’s gone?” Her face flashed through my mind. I couldn’t imagine her wandering alone in the city. “Cass, what are you talking about? Where’s Opal?”

  “I don’t know,” she sobbed. “She went … she ran off. I don’t know if Kiki got her, or somebody got her. I don’t know.”

  Holly gasped and put a hand to her mouth.

  The moments seemed to pass in slow motion as instinct took control of emotion, prompting me to gather details. “How long has she been gone?”

  “Where Opal gone?” Teddy echoed. He’d backed into the flower bed and was nervously pulling the front of his T-shirt. “Where Opal gone?”

  “Mom?” Christopher leaned over the porch railing. His voice probed the silence as I waited for Cass to answer. “What’s going on?”

  Cass sobbed out a story about Opal having disappeared during a trip to the Book Basket. She’d been gone at least twenty minutes. “We looked for her all around the store,” she finished. “I don’t know why she’d run off. She doesn’t ever run off. I was watching her. I was!” She collapsed into sobs again.

  Holding her shoulders, I looked at her very directly, trying to force her to focus. “Cass, you have to be calm. You have to settle down so we can find Opal. She can’t have gone far.” The words sounded convincing, but in reality, my mind was whirling with terrible possibilities. “We need to call the police.”

  Cass’s eyes flew wide. “No! No! We’ll get in trouble. They’ll take Opal away. We can find her. She’s got to be here.”

  “Cass, we have to—” The desperation in her face stopped me, even though I knew we’d have to make the call.

  “Is there anyplace else she’d go?” Holly interjected. “Anyplace between here and there? You know how kids are. They get distracted.”

  “The creek!” Cass flashed a glance toward the little bridge and the old park next door. “We drop cereal off the bridge and watch the fish eat it. Opal’s always trying to go down there.” She spun around and dashed across the lawn, leaving us and a group of confused sandwich customers behind.

  Teddy lumbered after her in an uneven run, calling back, “I gone see Opal!” Christopher vaulted over the porch rail and the flower bed and jogged after them with Holly and me close behind. By the time we got to the bridge, Cass was leaning over one curb and Teddy over the other. Christopher was at the end of the bridge, looking for a way down.

  “She was here! There’s her doll.” Cass pointed as I skidded to a stop beside her. On a sandbar, the little Raggedy Ann was lying alone, the small black orbs of her eyes staring blankly up at the sky.

  Holly leaned over the edge next to me. “Could she have fallen in? It doesn’t look very deep, though.”

  I thought of all the times Jalicia and I had played in the creek as children. “It’s never been more than a foot deep here.” Even now, in spring, when the rains were plentiful, the creek was just a trickle in the middle with lazy tide pools languishing in curves along the sides. It didn’t seem possible that someone, even someone as tiny as Opal, could fall in and be swept away, or that the people next door at Poppy’s house wouldn’t have heard if she cried out. “She has to be near here somewhere,” I said, then I called Opal’s name. Teddy and Holly joined the call until the air was full of noise, and we couldn’t have heard Opal if she’d answered.

  “Maybe she’s in here.” Christopher was over the vine-encrusted chain-link fence and into the old park in two quick movements. He disappeared into the growth of dried sunflowers, Johnsongrass, and brambles.

  “Maybe Opal gone there,” Teddy echoed. He proceeded to the gate and pulled on it until the hinges gave way. After setting it aside like a toy, he went in. Holly and I made our way through, and Cass climbed over the left side of the bridge to check up and down the creek.

  The search was over almost before it began. Teddy discovered Opal curled up in the middle of the merry-go-round with her thumb in her mouth, fast asleep. Summoned by Teddy’s call, we all stood looking at her, watching her breaths come soft and even, her body twitching in a dream. Around her, faded streaks of yellow and blue fanned out like a distant memory of sun and sky. Overhead, the swaying tree branches painted dapples of light, softly covering her skin and causing the rhinestones in her pink shoes to twinkle like diamonds.

  “I’m gonna kill her,” Cass muttered. She stepped onto the merry-go-round, and, off its axle, it listed to one side. In the center, Opal jerked and smacked her lips.

  “Just be calm,” I said. “It’s all right now.”

  Cass gathered Opal and we started back to the house, Opal blinking drowsily in Cass’s arms. Crossing over the bridge, she whined and reached for her doll.

  “I’ll get it.” Chris hopped over the edge and landed flat-footed on the sand below.

  “Christopher!” I scolded, then realized how long it had been since I’d protested one of his crazy, impulsive acts. This was the real Chris
topher, the one who plunged into every situation with boyish confidence and landed on his feet like a cat.

  “Got it!” he said, scooping up the doll in one fluid motion and grinning impishly, delighted to have an audience.

  Opal giggled, and Cass gave Chris an admiring “Whoa” before he disappeared up the bank. He ran back around to the gate and joined us again as we reached Poppy’s yard.

  “ ’S my doll.” Opal reached for her Raggedy Ann. Chris held the arms and legs, working them like a puppet’s, making the doll walk toward her.

  Opal’s gleeful squeal caused Cass to give her an irritated frown. “You shouldn’t even get it back, Opal. You can’t just run off like that. If you ever do it again, you’re not gettin’ your doll back, ever, and …” She stopped talking as a late-model car crossed the bridge and pulled up to the curb. “Oh, man, I forgot about MJ. She went the other way to look for Opal after we couldn’t find her at the bookstore.” With Opal bouncing on her hip, she jogged to the curb to talk to the driver. Judging from the hand motions, she was describing how and where we’d found Opal. After the story was finished, the woman turned off the engine and got out. I watched with more than idle curiosity. Her clothes were as eclectic as the collection of colored bottles and beads outside her bookstore. She was tall, regal in a way, dressed in a turban, loose cotton pants, sandals, and a tunic-style shirt with an African motif. Holding Opal’s hand, she bent close and said something, then stood up, took in the last of the lunch customers now picking up their belongings and wandering off, then focused her attention on me. Briefly, I had the sense that we’d met somewhere before, but there was nothing familiar about her, other than that Cass had told me about her on occasion. I couldn’t imagine anyplace I would have met someone like her.

  Cass brought her across the yard and made introductions. MJ was pleasant enough, beautiful, earthy, and exotic. She seemed completely comfortable in her own skin, yet the way she watched me gave me an off-centered feeling. As we began cleaning up the lunch mess, she remained on the fringes, talking with Opal and Boo.