Read Online The Year the Swallows Came Early by Kathryn Fitzmaurice - Free Book Online

I knew she remembered the names of all those stars. And that it was good luck when one of them shone more brightly than another. Or if they lined up in certain formations.
    But all I could see was the Little Dipper.
    She turned in circles as she held her arms out to the sides, still watching the sky. Her pink-paintedtoenails glowed in the dark on top of the black pavement, and her yellow hair blew around her face from the breeze. She looked beautiful to me, twirling like a maple seed does when it falls from its branch on a windy day. And as I watched her, I knew I loved her for taking such good care of me, worrying about my future, all the matters of my heart that’d obviously transferred automatically when I wasn’t watching, just like she said they would.
    After a minute she stopped and turned to look at me. “I don’t know how to explain what your father did. I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “Let’s go home.” She took my hand in hers because it was almost like I didn’t know the way just then.
    We walked up to our white house and to Mama’s roses. The moonlight caught their petals, like tiny night-lights showing the way home. The smell of Listerine rose from the dirt, mint and orange mixed together.
    She put her arms around me as the shock of all the news sank in deep.
    â€œI can’t believe Daddy did that,” I told her, feeling my face grow hot.
    Mama stopped at the front door and looked me over. Then she guided me into her bedroom instead of my own, saying she wanted to keep an eye on me for the night.
    â€œPut these on,” she told me, helping me change into my pajamas.
    She slid me into the middle of her bed, tucking the soft, light-blue blanket tight around the edges of my legs and feet, making me look like a mummy.
    â€œI’ll be right back with some hot jasmine tea and some limes and honey, baby,” Mama said.
    â€œMama?” I asked.
    She turned to look at me. “What, baby?”
    â€œWhen Daddy was being taken away in the police car, when he got into the backseat, there was this flower growing out of the sidewalk right there where the car was parked.” I stopped, feeling tears start in my eyes. I remembered the chrome bumper on the car, how it had shone in the sun.How now I understood why Daddy hadn’t been able to talk about anything just then. And how his explanation hadn’t really explained anything. Well, no wonder; it had been about my future.
    Mama waited.
    â€œIt was a dandelion,” I told her. “It was poking out of the concrete beside the wheel of the police car. And when Daddy got into the car, he stepped on it, accidentally, probably.” I wiped my eyes and breathed deep.
    Mama walked to the bed and sat down next to me. “It will grow back, baby. Dandelions are strong.”
    â€œHe didn’t watch where he was going,” I said. Tears rolled down my cheeks. “He ruined it, Mama. He didn’t watch, and now it’s ruined.” And I started crying like there was no tomorrow. But it wasn’t the dandelion that made me so sad. It was how I was like the dandelion, minding my own business, waiting to grow and be something. And he hadn’t seen me waiting.

SALTINES AND LIQUID TYLENOL
    M ama didn’t know what to do with me after that. I could tell by how long it took her in the kitchen. I couldn’t believe how she carried on. “You want some tea, baby?” “I could fix you a plate of saltines.” “Here you go, liquid Tylenol.”
    I heard her banging pots and filling the tea-kettle with water. It took her four tries to get the stove lit. When she finally came back, she brought two cups of steaming tea. I watched her squeeze limes into the cups and stir them with her little finger. I wondered why she didn’t know that withtea, most people used lemons.
    â€œCareful,” she said, handing one to me. “It’s hot.”
    â€œThanks,