“Oh, good. The girl’s all right, then. Do ask after her mother.” Under her breath she added, “Even if they aren’t exactly relations anymore, we ought to be civil.”
I told her we’d be out walking for a bit but I’d be sure to pass along any news. In a moment, we were out the door and headed for the lake.
At the Commons, Isabella and Avery walked along the shore a ways while Hannah and I found a bench overlooking the water. A mother mallard bobbed in the shallows, tipping her tail up as she searched for food under the waves. Half a dozen of her almost-grown children milled about her, mimicking her movements as they refined the skill. They’d grown to be almost the size of adult ducks, but their feathers still stood out in some places when the wind blew. A few months ago they were nothing but puffballs lined up behind their mama, but now it was mid-August. Soon they’d have to fend for themselves.
“We’re staying with the Pedersons at their summer cottage until we take the train home next week. They sent their driver to fetch us as soon as they saw the fire across the bay that night and realized it was our hotel. We couldn’t find you or your mother, but people told us you were okay.”
“It was all confusion that night—thank heaven we all made it out. So you’re headed home soon then.”
“Yes. And do you want to hear some crazy news? Charlotte said she wouldn’t come without Avery! It turns out they’ve had a romance going all summer and none of us knew it.”
I looked at her in surprise. “I guess none of us was paying any attention,” I said. “I certainly wasn’t.” I had considered him my friend, but all I’d really done was use him. I’d needed him but offered him nothing of myself, and I was so caught up in my own story, I’d never even asked about his. You’d be amazed how self-involved people can be, Isabella had said once. I felt ashamed of myself, suddenly, but happy for him.
I looked down the shore to Avery. He seemed to be telling the very same news to Isabella at that moment because she laughed and grabbed his arms and danced him around in a circle, hooting.
“So Charlotte threatened to stay here in Minnesota if we didn’t offer Avery a job,” Hannah was saying. “Mother said she couldn’t spare her after all these years, so Father would just have to find the boy some work with one of his buddies from the country club. We can’t afford to employ him ourselves, of course. They’re going to marry at the city hall before we leave.”
He’ll be stuck with Mrs. Harrington forever, I mused. The things we do for love.
“Avery wanted Isabella to stand up with him at the city hall next week,” Hannah went on, “and I asked him to bring me along when he asked her, so I could see you and—and apologize.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Hannah.”
“Yes. I do. I’m sorry I called her those awful names. She’s—um—it’s very generous of her to take you and your mother in like this.”
I nodded. “We’re leaving in a few days. As soon as Mother can walk on her ankle.”
“What then?”
“Oh, who knows? I’m going to finish school and apply to the university. Mother’s going to look for a job, and I’ll probably find something for the weekends too.”
I must’ve looked nervous because she said, “I’m sure it will work out.”
“Thanks. And good luck with, you know, the eligible young men of St. Louis.”
She giggled. “Yeah, maybe that will work out too.”
“You look lovely, by the way. That green is stunning on you.”
“Borrowed. But yes, I rather like it too. The Pedersons’ daughter has got me reading fashion magazines now. I might be done letting Mother pick my clothes.”
“They always mean well, but they don’t always know best,” I said.
The mallard in the bay tipped too far forward and her legs kicked comically in the air as she tried to right herself. She finally surfaced and shook herself from her beak to her tail, water droplets flying. The young ducks watched her, then went back to their meal.
We laughed and laughed.
EPILOGUE
American Goldfinch
(Carduelis tristis)
The morning we left Excelsior, Isabella came to the station to see us off. When the streetcar swung up to the platform and yawned open its door, I hugged Isabella briefly and kissed her cheek. Mother did the same and I heard her whisper a thank-you in Isabella’s ear. Then, as Mother hobbled toward the car, Isabella handed me a package wrapped in brown paper.
“Don’t open it until you’re on your way,” she said. Then she squeezed my shoulder and hesitated a long, painful moment before stepping back. My skin already ached for her, but I steeled myself with a deep breath and turned away. We boarded the streetcar, dropped our tokens into the fare box, and claimed a bench seat. As we sped out down the track, Isabella’s waving form disappeared behind us.
Mother pulled an embroidery hoop out of the traveling case Aunt Rachel had sent and began stitching hearts on a handkerchief. I chuckled. Aunt Rachel had thought of everything. I turned over Isabella’s package and carefully removed the paper.
And there, in my lap, lay a sequined dress with black fringe—just like the oriole dress, but yellow. A goldfinch dress. My goldfinch dress, apparently. I blinked away the tears that gathered in my eyes. On a note pinned to the dress, Isabella had written, “You are no sparrow. I hope you know that now, my bright, beautiful Garnet. Have courage and you will fly.”
I will, I thought, as we soared across the landscape—toward home, and school, and the one life that was mine to live. I will.
AFTERWORD
AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Fact and Fiction in Silhouette of a Sparrow
Readers should know that Excelsior, Minnesota, is a real town; Lake Minnetonka is a real lake; and there really was an Excelsior Amusement Park in that town and on that lake that ran from 1925—1975. I grew up in Excelsior, but I was not born until 1982, and so the stories of the amusement park have always fascinated me in a way that only something just missed can.
I’ve tried to paint an accurate picture of the area, the town, the Commons, the amusement park, the lake, and the historical era of the 1920s, while inventing characters and situations within those settings, and while giving the story room to grow beyond the facts. Many details from the text are true: a man who ran the carousel for years did indeed start collecting fares at the single red light so he’d know if anyone was trying to sneak on; the Minnehaha, along with other steamers (or streetcar boats), was sunk off of Big Island in the summer of 1926 because it was considered outdated (it has since been hauled up from the bottom of the lake and restored); the great blue herons did move their roosting place from Crane Island to nearby Wawatasso Island because of a storm, and Crane Island then became yet another vacation spot. Countless other details are either true or as true as local legend can make them, while some facts were fudged for the sake of fiction. The Galpin House of the story is a fictitious blend of the real Galpin House and other hotels that served vacationers in that area during the 1920s. (A photo of the Sampson House that I kept by my desk most directly inspired the architecture of the story’s hotel.) The fire of this story is fictional, but hotel fires were very common in those days and many Lake Minnetonka hotels burned and were rebuilt during that era. The twisting tunnel ride really existed, but was part of the park’s Fun House, which was not built until the ’50s. The hat shop is a locale of my own invention, but a feasible addition to the town’s Main Street, while the bakery and its upstairs apartments are real. The Excelo Bakery was a favorite haunt of my childhood, and a friend of mine lived above it for a time, but the beloved shop has recently closed, along with the town’s hardware store and drugstore. Like all small towns, Excelsior is ever changing.
A word must be said about Garnet’s precious birds. I am no ornithology expert, but I wrote this novel with one hand on my Sibley bird book and one eye out the window. The birds mentioned here are all found in Minnesota, are all given their correct Latin names, and ar
e all described with their real habits and habitats in mind. Any errors in the text come out of my own well-meaning ignorance, and I beg the birds’ and the birders’ forgiveness for any inaccuracies. The passage discovered by Hannah about Crane Island is adapted from a real book: Notes on the Birds of Minnesota by Dr. P. L. Hatch, published in 1892. As I wrote, Garnet’s passion became my passion, and she gave me the chance to learn so much about these amazing creatures, as well as to learn about the constant struggle in the modern world between conservation and destruction—between conscientiousness and thoughtlessness. It is an issue very close to my heart and one vital to our future on this beautiful planet.
I owe many thanks to the Excelsior-Lake Minnetonka Historical Society staff and publications, the Minnesota Streetcar Museum volunteers, the special collections librarians at the Minneapolis Central Library, and many other patient and generous people who helped me delve into the history of this area. Thank you to my editor at Milkweed for believing in my vision for the book and for helping me make it a reality. Thank you to my writing group for years of insights, patience, and emotional support. And finally I must thank my parents for raising me in such an inspiring town, my advisors at Hamline University for helping me craft this story (draft after draft), and my partner, Emer, for giving me the courage to write and rewrite it (day after day).
MOLLY BETH GRIFFIN is a graduate of Hamline University’s MFA program in writing for children and a teacher at the Loft Literary Center. She is the author of a picture book, Loon Baby. Silhouette of a Sparrow is her first young adult novel. She lives in Minneapolis with her family.
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Interior design by Ann Sudmeier
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Printed on acid-free 100% postconsumer waste paper
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The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
© 2012, Text by Molly Beth Griffin
All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical articles or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher: Milkweed Editions, 1011 Washington Avenue South, Suite 300, Minneapolis, Minnesota 55415.
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Published 2012 by Milkweed Editions
Author photo by Kevin Obsatz
Manufactured in Canada in June 2012 by Friesens Corporation.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Griffin, Molly Beth.
p. cm.
Summary: During the summer of 1926 in the lake resort town of Excelsior, Minnesota, sixteen-year-old Garnet, who dreams of indulging her passion for ornithology, is resigned to marrying a nice boy and settling into middle-class homemaking until she takes a liberating job in a hat shop and begins an intense, secret relationship with a daring and beautiful flapper.
eISBN : 978-1-571-31861-9
[1. Feminism—Fiction. 2. Self-actualization (Psychology)—Fiction. 3. Lesbians—Fiction. 4. Ornithology—Fiction. 5. Excelsior (Minn.)—History—20th century—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.G8813593Si 2012
[Fic]—dc23
2011036296
This book is printed on acid-free paper.
Silhouette of a Sparrow Page 13
