A Smidgen of Sky (10 page)

As soon as I logged on to the Real Investigations website, I saw there'd been no reply. The comment box sat empty below my story about Daddy. An ache spread from my throat down to my stomach as I stared at the screen, hoping I'd missed something. But there was nothing.

I was halfway home before I realized I'd forgotten to look for a book on model airplanes, but I didn't care.

 

I knew it would be better to stay away from the library for at least a few days. But when the chance to go came up again the very next morning, I couldn't resist. Miss Claudia asked if I would ride my bike to Dib's Market for a pint of cream, and said to buy myself a candy bar for the effort.

The offer of the candy bar was good enough, but even better, the market was only two blocks from the library. I ordered myself not to get excited, and I promised myself that if there was no news, I'd let at least three days pass before I checked again.

I must have done a pretty good job of not getting my hopes up, because my heart nearly jumped into my throat when I saw there was a reply to my post. It was from someone with the username of People Hunter. I hunched toward the screen, hoping to block it from anyone who might sneak up behind me.

 

Hey, Piper Lee—

Nice to meet you. Sorry to hear about your dad. My name is Lyn and I'm from Savannah. I'm a pilot, so I follow all the aviation stories. Your tale rang a bell with me, and I might be able to help you dig up some information. But first I need to know more. How old are you? What town are you from, and what was the date of the accident? Is anyone else helping you search? Let me know and I'll see what I can do.

Lyn

 

I curled my fingers around the metal frame of the chair to anchor myself in place. If not for all the folks milling around the library, I might've come right up off that seat. I couldn't believe it. Somebody really wanted to help me find out about Daddy. A real pilot—and a lady pilot, at that. And she didn't even live very far away.

I started tapping out answers to Lyn's questions. But it wasn't till after I hit Post that I noticed the alarm ringing in my head, warning me I'd just done something I should've asked Mama about first. She'd let me talk with a stranger on the Internet about as soon as she'd let me jump out my bedroom window. But if I asked her, I'd never get the chance to find out if Lyn knew anything or not. As hard as it was to keep the secret about Tina, now I had another to keep.

I stopped by the market for Miss Claudia's cream and then pedaled home, sucking on a sweet chunk of chocolate. It tasted good, but it would've tasted even better without all the worrisome thoughts swirling through my mind. How long would it take Lyn to answer? What would she say? How long would it be before I could get back to the library to check? Had Tina called Ginger? Would she? What if she tried to cause problems like Mama feared?

 

I didn't get any of my questions answered until the next night, when Mama and I went over to Ben and Ginger's for supper. As soon as we pulled into the driveway and I saw Ginger hanging around the front porch looking all puny and sad, I knew it probably meant Tina hadn't called. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

Mama walked over and put the back of her hand on Ginger's forehead. “Are you feeling sickly, kiddo?” Ginger mustered up a little smile and shook her head. “Yeah? Well, you don't feel feverish. Where's your daddy?”

“Inside. Getting the hamburger patties.” Ginger ambled over to the picnic table and dropped down onto the bench.

Mama shot me a look that said
Do something to make her feel better.
Then she headed in to check on Ben.

I stood in the shade of the sunflowers, trying to decide what to do. “You want to jump on the trampoline?” I asked.

“Not now.”

“Wanna do something else, then?”

She shook her head. I went and sat down on the bench beside her. Usually she kept her hair pulled back, but today it hung long and loose and blocked most of her face. I wasn't sure when I'd started caring how Ginger felt, but right then I felt puny along with her. I leaned in close and whispered, “Don't feel too bad 'bout your mama. Bet she calls tomorrow.”

“Piper Lee,” Ben said.

Maybe it was because my nerves were already jumpy or because I didn't know he'd come outside, but when Ben said my name like that, my heart nearly fell out of my chest. “Yes, sir?”

“Whatcha want?”

“N-nothing. I was just talking to Ginger, is all.”

Ben raised his eyebrows and waved the barbecue tongs at me. “I was asking what you want—hamburger or hot dog?”

“Oh—uh, a hot dog, please.” I glanced back at Ginger. I couldn't tell if she'd heard what I'd said about her mama or not. She didn't act like it.

We were halfway through a quiet supper when a UPS delivery truck roared into the driveway.

Mama smiled at Ben. “Let me guess. You ordered more parts for that Mustang of yours?”

Ben set his hamburger down. “No, ma'am, not lately I haven't.”

He walked over to meet the truck, and the driver placed a medium-size cardboard box into his hands.

Ginger perked up a bit. “Who's it from, Daddy? It's not for me, is it?”

Ben flipped the package to read the address as he headed back to us. His expression turned as dark as if a storm were brewing, and his lips moved with a single, silent word. He set the box onto the picnic table and said, “Yeah, Ginger. It's for you.”

Ginger leaned over for a closer look. She squealed. “It's from Mama! She sent me something!”

A look passed between Ben and Mama. The muscles in Ben's jaw began pumping in and out while Ginger hopped around like a crazed chipmunk.

“Open it, Daddy. Do you have your knife?”

Ben reached into the pocket of his jean shorts and fished around. Coins clinked. Then he pulled out his pocketknife and sliced the packing tape real slow and careful, as if he were handling a snake that might bite.

The evening sun beat hot on my bare shoulders as Ginger tore through the crumpled white tissue paper. I shoved a big bite of hot dog into my mouth.

She lifted a hardback book from the box—
The Complete Cheerleading Book of Cheers, Chants, and Jumps
. I felt better as soon as I saw the title; who'd want a dumb gift like that? There was a necklace, too—a silver chain with a little cheerleading megaphone dangling on it. Ginger touched the megaphone like it was something holy, her eyes shining, and then held it up for all of us to see. But it was the last gift that seemed to affect her the most: a little teddy bear wearing a blue and white T-shirt with the words
Somebody in Colorado Loves Me
. None of us said a word, not even Ginger. She just held the little bear against her chest and closed her eyes for a bit.

I took another bite of hot dog as she pawed through the box, making sure she hadn't missed anything. Then her eyes got wide and she said, “Hey, Piper Lee.” She held out a wrapped package with my name printed across the paper.

I struggled to swallow. Tina had actually sent me something? I couldn't believe it. I wanted to grab that package and rip it right open, but Mama was making that little sound in the back of her throat—the one she made when she was a hair away from getting riled up.

“I'll open it for you,” Ginger said.

No way was I letting that happen. I snatched it from her and yanked off the single strip of tape before Mama could tell me not to.

“It's a plane,” Ginger said. “You ought to like that.”

“It's not just a plane.” My excitement bubbled up. “It's an X-stream Future Glider, like they advertise on TV.” I ran my fingers over the glider's black and white foam body and yellow wings. “These things are s'posed to fly sixty yards.”

Mama forced a tight little smile. “Ben,” was all she said.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “All right,” he said. “I'm done, done.”

Ginger put a protective arm around her gifts.

I clutched my glider.

Ben covered the distance between the picnic table and the porch in three long strides.

Mama darted after him. “Wait, guy. Don't call when you're angry. We have to be careful how we handle this.”

“Daddy?” Ginger called after him. “If you're gonna call Mama, can I talk to her? Just to say thank you?”

Ben pointed a finger at her right before he and Mama disappeared through the screen door. “You can stay put, is what you can do.” The screen door banged, bounced open, and banged again.

Ben's hamburger sat on his plate. Funny how Tina always managed to interrupt supper.

Ginger sighed—a deep, sad kind of sigh. It made me want to tell her about Tina's phone number. I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep my mouth shut. Ginger fingered the little megaphone on the necklace and then put the chain around her neck and fooled with the clasp.

“Need some help?” I asked.

She nodded, and I went around behind her and fastened the necklace. Then I took my plane out into the center of the yard, pulled back my arm, and let the glider fly. It sailed way up above the rooftop to the upper branches of the pecan trees, making cool little dips and arcs just like a real plane. It made a final turn and came in for a graceful landing near the porch. I wished I could shrink myself real tiny so I could climb aboard and pilot it. Just thinking about that made me shiver.

“Gee willikers,” Ginger said. “That thing really flies. Can I try it?”

“Didn't think you liked planes.”

“How would you know? I don't recall us ever talkin' about it.”

I couldn't think of a single thing to say to that.

“Sure,” I said. “You can try.” I trotted over to retrieve the glider and sailed it back toward Ginger. She craned her neck as the plane swooped and looped above her. “How's it make those turns like that?”

“It's all wing design. It's got a real good structure.”

She waited for it to land and then scrambled over and scooped it up. “Hold it a little farther back,” I said as she got ready to launch it. “Back by the tail.”

She repositioned her fingers and let it fly. “Hey, cool. Look at it go.”

We played until Ben and Mama came back outside. It didn't seem right to fly the glider in front of them. Ben sat down and finished his hamburger. Mama sipped on a Coke and smiled at me. I was dying to know what had happened inside the house. I could read on Ginger's face that she wanted to know even worse than me, but she didn't ask. She just asked to be excused, packed her gifts back into the box, and headed inside. I followed with the glider.

Ginger propped the teddy bear on her pillow, then flopped across her bed and started thumbing through the cheerleading book. I sat down on the floor, with my back up against the bed, and studied the wing design of the glider. “It sure was nice of your mama to send me this. You must've told her I like planes.”

“Told her you were gonna be a pilot and I'm gonna be a professional cheerleader.”

“What'd she say about that?”

“Not much. But she must think it's a cool idea or she wouldn't have sent me the book, huh? I wonder what Daddy told her. It makes me so mad he won't let me call on my own. Just don't make sense.”

“Where did he get her number?”

“Said he's always had it. He won't tell me where, though. I looked in his address book, but it's not there.”

“Maybe he just keeps it in his head.”

Ginger sighed. “Maybe it's in the box where I found the letter.”

Something in her voice made me shift so I could see if her face was as sad and wishful as her words. It was. She saw me looking at her. “What?”

I stood and peeked out her window. Mama and Ben still sat at the picnic table, but it didn't look as if they were talking. Mama was hunched forward with her chin in her hand. I turned back to Ginger. She was watching me with cat eyes, cautious and curious. “What?” she said again.

My secret was itching to bust free. But could I trust her? Something told me I could, but it was still scary. I dug my fingers into the wood of the windowsill. “Ginger, if I told you a really big secret, would you swear to keep your mouth shut?”

 

G
INGER'S JAW DROPPED
open wide enough for me to see her tongue. “You have my mama's phone number?”

“Hush,” I hissed. “You don't have to let the whole neighborhood know. 'Member how we talked about looking it up on the Internet? Well, I went to the library and did it. Wasn't even hard—her name came right up.”

“How . . . I mean, does your mama know?”

“Course not. And you swore to keep your mouth shut, 'member?”

“So where's it at?”

“At home. I'll get it to you soon as I can.”

Ginger seemed a little dazed. “Why'd you do it, Piper? Why do you want me to find her so bad?”