Read Online Baby by Patricia MacLachlan - Free Book Online Page B

to talk about Sophie now.
    “Yes,” said Byrd. “You’ll see her again. Sometime.”
    Mama looked sideways at Byrd and smiled. She stopped.
    “Remember walking home with Sophie?” she said. “After we’d been to the beach? Right about there”—she pointed—“and about this time of day, Sophie began to dance.”
    I walked ahead of them and turned, looking at Byrd, her hair like silver in the light, at Mama and Papa holding hands, at Lalo with his look that seemed to say
I know what you’re going to do
. And he did, of course.
    I began to do the soft shoe. Papa and Mama stared at me, Papa’s eyes widening. Byrd smiled.
    Me and my shadow
    Strolling down the avenue
.
    Me and my shadow
    Not a soul to tell our troubles to
.
    “I learned,” I said. I grinned at the sight of them all, standing there so still and so surprised. And then, for some reason, as I danced I began to cry.

summer—ten years later

The memories came all the time now, crowding in, filling her head. They came in mist and clouds, almost revealing what was hidden behind them. Clouds with a face nearly hidden. Clouds
.
    And that face
.

chapter 17
    We leaned on the boat railing as land came into sight. Birds followed the boat, wheeling above and over it. One herring gull came so close, we could almost touch it. The day was crisp for summer. I turned to look at Sophie as she studied the island. She looked at the cliffs at the far end, then at the town that we could see clearly now, the harbor, the church, the hill where the cemetery was.
    Sophie was tall, almost up to my shoulder. Her hair had lost the fair baby color. Now it was the same color as mine. Around her neck was the chain with the red ruby.
    Sophie turned to her mother.
    “Did you spend a lot of time here?” she asked.
    “Only that summer,” said Julia. “That summer,” she repeated softly, like an echo. Julia looked at me and we smiled.
    The boat passed the breakwater and Sophie’s hands went up to cover her ears just before the whistle blew.
    “You remembered the whistle,” I said.
    “Did I?” said Sophie. “Sometimes—” Sophie stopped for a moment, then went on. “Sometimes I remember things and I don’t know what they mean.” Sophie turned and looked at me with the familiar look that made
me
remember her. “I remember a face,” she said.
    The boat came into the harbor, and Sophie took the newspaper clipping out of her pocket. It was folded over and worn from reading and rereading. It told of the life, the death, and where the burial would be.
    Byrd.
    “Will I know them?” asked Sophie. “Will they know me?”
    Julia smiled.
    “You’ve seen pictures,” she said. “And allthose letters.” She paused. “Probably yes. Somehow you’ll know them.”
    “They’ll know you,” I said.
    The boat came slowly up to the dock. The lines were tossed and tied. Then we walked down the stairs and onto the landing.
    “Do they know I’ll be here?” asked Sophie.
    I shook my head.
    “I didn’t know if you’d come,” I said.
    We walked down the sidewalk, past the stores and houses, and past Lalo’s parents’ inn. Sophie stopped and looked down at the sidewalk. My heart beat faster.
    “You danced here,” I said.
    Sophie didn’t say anything. Then, she reached over and took my hand. We walked along to the grassy place where the cemetery began. Julia stopped and touched Sophie’s arm.
    “You go ahead,” she said.
    Sophie looked at her.
    “It’s all right,” said Julia. She smiled. “It will be fine,” she said softly.
    There were people standing at the top of the hill, their backs to us. We walked up the hill still holding hands. Sophie looked back once, at hermother waiting at the bottom of the hill, looking so small. Then, when we had almost reached the graveside, and we could hear the murmur of low voices, Sophie looked up at the high, thin clouds.
    “Mares’ tails,” she said suddenly. “Mares’ tails.”
    Lalo turned at Sophie’s voice. His eyes