Untethered (9 page)

“Hush, Ann,” Marie gently scolded, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “You’ll have me bawlin’ like a calf if you start.”

Cricket blinked away the moisture in her own eyes as she watched Vilma carefully situate the teapot on Mrs. Maloney’s front porch. She bit her lip with impatience as Vilma took entirely too long in placing the accompanying note just so on its spout.

“Oh, she’s gonna get caught,” Marie groaned. “She always draws it out so dang long!”

“It’s part of her way of doin’ things,” Cricket whispered. “Remember when we were in school and her cat died?”

“How could we ever forget?” Ann sighed with mild exasperation. “Standin’ out in the rain in the dead of night…all four of us bawlin’ our eyes out over that silly cat.”

“Herman,” Marie offered quietly. “His name was Herman.”

“Oh, believe me, Marie,” Ann giggled. “I’ll never forget his name
or
the two hours of standin’ in the rain bawlin’ over him.”

“Shhh!” Cricket suddenly shushed. “She’s gettin’ ready to knock on the door.”

Simultaneously, Cricket, Marie, and Ann dropped to their bellies in the cool, sweet-scented grass across the street from Mrs. Maloney’s house. There was the echo of Vilma knocking on Mrs. Maloney’s front door on the air and then the comical sight of Vilma hightailing herself across the street to join the others.

Cricket couldn’t help but laugh as she watched Vilma—all dressed in black underthings, leapfrogging across the street like a bullfrog with a firebrand at his behind.

“Here she comes!” Ann giggled. “Look at her go!”

Marie laughed so hard she snorted a little and sent Ann and Cricket clamping their hands over their mouths to ensure Mrs. Maloney wouldn’t hear them sniggling with overpowering mirth.

“It’s done!” Vilma panted as she plopped down on her stomach in the grass next to Cricket. “Do you think I knocked loud enough? I think the ol’ gal has trouble hearin’ sometimes. Daddy said she slept clean through his sermon last Sunday.”

Cricket smiled when Marie leaned over, whispering in her ear, “Well, then half the congregation in Pike’s Creek must have trouble hearin’…’cause the snorin’ durin’ her daddy’s sermon last week was nearly deafenin’.”

“Shhh!” Ann whispered. “The door’s openin’!”

Sure enough. Cricket’s eyes widened with wild anticipatory excitement as Mrs. Maloney’s front door swung wide to reveal Mrs. Maloney standing just inside, dressed in a gingham nightgown and holding a lamp in one hand.

“Hello?” the elderly woman called into the darkness of night. “Who’s there?”

“Oh, look down, woman! Look down!” Vilma whispered with impatience.

Almost as if Mrs. Maloney had heard her, the lovely old woman glanced down, spying the teapot.

Mrs. Maloney gasped—placed a hand to her bosom. “What in tarnation?” the girls heard her exclaim. Mrs. Maloney set the lamp down on the porch and picked up the teapot. “Oh! Oh, it’s you!” she said to the teapot. “It’s you. It really is you! Oh, how I’ve watched you for so long…but…what’s this?”

Nobody breathed as they watched Mrs. Maloney unfold Vilma’s note. They could hear her sniffling as she read—saw her wipe tears from her eyes.

“Thank you!” Maymee Maude Maloney called from her front porch out into the night. “Thank you, whoever you are! It’s beautiful. So much more beautiful than it was when it was a prisoner at the general store! I promise to cherish it all my life. Thank you!”

Cricket wiped the tears from her cheeks as she watched Mrs. Maloney pick up the lamp and disappear into her house, closing the door behind her. She began to cry all the more savagely, however, when she saw Vilma collapse facedown in the cool summer grass and begin to sob.

Marie and Ann were as soppy as Cricket and Vilma, and it took several long minutes for any of the four black-shrouded do-gooders to recover their emotions.

Red-eyed and with tear-streaked cheeks, the four young ladies of Pike’s Creek gathered themselves and started out for Mr. Keel’s home.

“She really will love it, won’t she?” Vilma asked, taking Cricket’s hand as they walked.

Cricket smiled, wiped a fresh tear from her cheek, and nodded. “More than anyone in all the world ever could,” she affirmed.

“I feel warmed and happier now,” Ann said, stepping in beside Cricket, tucking her quilt under one arm, and taking her other hand.

“Me too,” Marie added, clasping Vilma’s free hand.

“I don’t even miss my silly hair,” Vilma added.

Cricket squeezed Vilma’s hand with admiration and affection. “You’re very brave and givin’, Vilma,” she said. “One day you’re gonna burst out of whatever those invisible tethers are that keep you so wound up and be who God meant you to be.”

Vilma squeezed Cricket’s hand in return, but the new tears in her eyes kept her from speaking.

They walked silently for a time along the backside of the business buildings of Pike’s Creek, each lost in her own thoughts. Though she didn’t know what Marie or Ann or Vilma was thinking exactly, Cricket supposed their thoughts mirrored her own—that she wished she could spend more time doing lovely, kind things for folks in secret. It was what she felt she was meant to do, and she was glad for her companions in it.

“Just look at that moon,” Ann said as they strolled along toward Mr. Keel’s house and barn. “Just like a new silver coin hung high in the sky.”

Cricket smiled, touched by the way she and Ann often thought of things similarly.

“And the stars!” Marie whispered in awe. “No wonder folks cast wishes at them. They truly twinkle like they’re trying to speak to you…don’t they?”

“Well, I wish they’d speak to me,” Ann said then. “I wish they’d tell me whether or not Mr. Keel will think this quilt is the silliest thing or be glad he has it to keep him warm in the winter.”

Mr. Keel’s house was in view, and Cricket could see a lamp burning in the kitchen window. “Well, maybe when he opens the door and finds it tonight, you’ll know, and the stars won’t need to tell you,” Cricket whispered. “Now let’s quit talkin’ and creep over behind that big lilac tree there by the kitchen door. It should hide us pretty well, don’t you think?”

Quietly the girls made their way to the large lilac tree that grew to one side of Mr. Keel’s back porch. Oh, it was so fragrant! Lilacs abloom was one of Cricket’s favorite fragrances in all of heaven and earth.

“I’m havin’ second thoughts about this,” Ann nervously whispered as they carefully settled behind the old lilac tree.

“No second thoughts are allowed, Ann,” Marie reminded. “You know that.”

“But this is different,” Ann quietly argued. “I mean, who in their right mind gives a widower a new quilt? And in the middle of summer to boot?”

Cricket reached out, taking Ann’s hands in her own. Forcing her friend to look at her, she encouraged, “A kind, compassionate sort of woman who sincerely cares for him and worries about his comfort.” Cricket smiled. “There isn’t anything in all the world more cozy and comfortable than a soft, new quilt…even in the summer. Especially if a body wants to sit outside awhile and enjoy the cool evenin’ air once the sun has gone down. Right?”

Ann smiled. “Right!” she agreed. “And after all, if Mr. Keel’s beddin’ is anything close to as worn out and needin’ mendin’ as his underdrawers are, then he surely needs a new quilt.”

“His underdrawers?” Vilma exclaimed.

“Hush, Vilma!” Marie scolded. “He’ll hear us out here if we don’t stop chatterin’ away like flock of magpies.”

Vilma rolled her eyes, dismissing Marie’s scolding. “Oh no, he won’t. And besides, I want to know how Ann came by the knowledge of what condition Mr. Keel’s underdrawers are in.”

Cricket giggled. Vilma Stanley could find scandal about to erupt in anything.

Ann shook her head with amusement and whispered, “All you gotta do is take a look at his laundry when it’s out on the line, Vilma. His underdrawers are truly a sight to behold. Holey knees, safety pins where buttons oughta be on the trap doors. It’s nearly indecent.”

Vilma grinned and arched a suspicious eyebrow. “Seems to me a body would have to be pretty close to a pair of underdrawers to see such detail as that.”

“Well, there ain’t nothin’ wrong with lookin’ at a man’s underdrawers, Vilma,” Marie interjected, smiling and winking at Ann.

“I suppose not,” Vilma agreed. “As long as the man isn’t wearin’ them at the time.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Vilma,” Marie groaned. “I swear! You get so wound up about the simplest things and then don’t bat an eye about things that are truly scandalous.”

“Shhh,” Ann whispered. “Let’s just get on with it, girls. We’ve got a lot yet to do tonight, and if we stand here talkin’ any longer, I swear I’m gonna fraidy-cat it and run off before I have a chance to deliver the quilt.”

“Well, then go on, Ann,” Cricket prodded. “Just sneak on up to Mr. Keel’s front porch, drop the quilt and the note, and then knock on the door. It’s that simple.”

“Yeah. Then run for your life and get back here with us before he opens the door,” Marie giggled.

“Maybe you’ll even get a glimpse of those ratty underdrawers of his again, Ann,” Vilma playfully teased. “Makes sense that the man would already be strippin’ down for the night. It’s near ten o’clock.”

Marie and Cricket rolled their eyes and exchanged grins. Vilma Stanley—preacher’s daughter one moment, scandal of Pike’s Creek the next.

Ann inhaled a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. Fretfully she rubbed her hands together.

“I can do this,” she mumbled to herself with a firm nod of her head. “If my daddy managed to survive
Gettysburg
, then I’ll manage to survive this.” She looked to Cricket with an expression of impending doubt and added, “Right?”

“Right,” Cricket assured her.

“It’s just a quilt, Ann,” Vilma said. “It’s not like you’re proposin’ marriage.”

Marie took Ann by the shoulders—stared into her eyes. “Do it, Ann. Do this, and then you’ll know that all autumn and winter your handsome Mr. Cooper Keel will be warm and cozy beneath a quilt
you
stitched for him.”

Ann nodded, reached down, and gathered the carefully folded quilt, with handwritten note pinned to it, into her arms. “I’m goin’. I’m really goin’.”

And she did! Cricket smiled and dropped to her knees behind the large lilac tree. Marie and Vilma dropped down too, all three girls parting various lilac branches in order to view Ann’s admirable bravery.

“There she goes,” Marie began to narrate in a whisper. “She’s up the porch steps…and silent as a mice. She’s puttin’ the quilt down—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sakes, Marie!” Vilma whined. “Me and Cricket both have two good eyes in our heads.”

Marie wrinkled her nose at Vilma and then looked back to Ann. “She’s movin’ the quilt a little closer to the kitchen door…”

Cricket giggled when she heard Vilma puff a breath of exasperation.

“She’s movin’ toward the door,” Marie continued. “She’s…she’s…”

“She’s gonna get caught if she doesn’t hurry up! What’s she waitin’ for?” Vilma whispered.

“She’s diggin’ in her petticoat pocket,” Marie answered.

“What in tarnation for?” Cricket asked. What could Ann be doing? The quilt and note were perfectly placed on the front porch—right in front of the door where Mr. Keel would easily spot them. What could she be lingering for?

Marie laughed quietly. “It’s a little jar,” she said. “I know what she’s doin’. I’ve seen her do this a million times.”

“Well, I haven’t. What is it?” Vilma inquired.

“It’s a little jelly jar,” Marie explained. “She’s gonna put one of those little candles her mama makes inside the jar and light it. That way Mr. Keel will see the quilt right away.
And
there’ll be a pretty little embellishment too.”

Cricket smiled—sighed with admiration and approval. If there was one thing Ann was, it was a master of making the simplest things resplendently beautiful.

“She’s so good at things like that,” Vilma mumbled.

“Yep,” Marie agreed.

“She brought matches too?” Cricket asked as she saw Ann draw a small box of matches from her petticoat pocket.

“Shhh!” Vilma and Marie scolded in unison.

“I swear…that girl thinks of every little detail,” Cricket whispered.

She continued to peer between the lilac branches with Marie and Vilma as Ann struck a match on the sole of her shoe and lit the small candle she’d placed inside the little jar. Instantly the tiny golden flicker of light the candle produced kindled Mr. Keel’s back porch with a warm and comforting glow.

“She’ll have to be quick now,” Vilma noted aloud.

Cricket knew Marie and Vilma were holding their breath, just as she was, as they watched Ann rap firmly several times on Mr. Keel’s kitchen door. They gasped, giggling quietly as Ann leapt from down from the porch as gracefully as a doe and headed for the lilac tree.

Ann Burroughs looked just like a little pixie skipping through the night as she reached the lilacs and hunkered down behind it with the others.

“What if he’s not home?” she asked in a whisper.