Sparrow Road by Sheila O'Connor Read Free Book Online Page A

the final blaze of sunset, her neon braids glowed cotton candy pink. “We’ll get to make a memory!” Every day Josie sewed a brand-new patch of memory so in the end her summer would be a kind of quilt. “Root beer floats at the Comfort Cone. Marge’s lemon bars at the sweet Blue Moon Café. How soon can we set out?”
    “Tomorrow?”
    “Tomorrow would be perfect! We ought to take a practice run the day before the Rhubarb Social. Eight miles into town might feel long the first time.” The Rhubarb Social at Good Shepherd was Josie’s latest scheme. She insisted everyone would go this weekend. Everyone but Eleanor. Mama and Lillian would ride in Viktor’s truck. I’d bike in with Josie and Diego.
    “Tomorrow then,” I said.
    “I hope your mama lets you, Raine. I know she keeps you close.”
    “She will,” I lied. I wasn’t going to ask Mama until the minute I was leaving, until I had Josie’s power right beside me, so Mama would say yes.
    “Take a look at that!” Josie said. Out in the water, Mama and Diego floated like driftwood on their backs. Mama lifted up her hand and gave a little wave. “You think those two are a mystery?”
    “Nope,” I said. It seemed most evenings Diego stayed by Mama. Washing dishes. Talking on the swing. Bringing ice cream to our cottage. Sunset swims with us when Mama would say yes. “Diego definitely likes her.”
    “You bet he does. But I’d say he likes you both.”
     
    By the time we all got back to the house, lanterns burned along the side porch, and through the screen I could see the silhouettes of Lillian and Viktor.
    “What about a fire?” Diego set his hand on Mama’s back, but Mama stepped away.
    “Yes!” I said. The only fires in Milwaukee were emergencies.
    “Hey, you two,” Josie shouted to Lillian and Viktor. “S’mores. Marshmallows and chocolate bars on me.”
    “Oh yes,” Lillian said. “A roasted marshmallow would be lovely.”
    “If you’d like,” Viktor said to Lillian.
    “A miracle!” Josie pinched my waist. “The Iceberg’s going to join us, Raine! Maybe Eleanor will be next?”
    “Oh no!” I said. “She would ruin it all.”
     
    Eleanor didn’t come down to the fire, but it was strange enough to have Viktor in our circle. He didn’t say a single word; he just roasted marshmallows for Lillian and slid them on a plate.
    In the fire glow everyone looked happy—even Viktor, whose hollow face seemed to brighten through the flames. I licked the sticky marshmallow off my fingers, breathed in the smell of burning wood.
    “Tonight the children will sleep down at the water,” Lillian said. “I’m afraid the attic is too hot.”
    “We’ll see,” Viktor said, as though the children were still here.
    “What we need at this fire is some music,” Josie said. “Someone who can sing and play guitar!”
    “Molly does,” Viktor said. “She both sings and plays guitar.” How did Viktor know Mama played guitar? Mama hadn’t played it since we moved back to Milwaukee; she always said her music days were done in Amsterdam.
    “Guitar?” Diego smiled. “Another talent, Molly?”
    Mama slouched down in her lawn chair. “I really don’t do either.”
    “Ah, Molly.” Viktor looked at Mama as if they shared a secret. “I am certain that you do.”

16
    “So how does Viktor know you played guitar?” I grabbed a damp towel from the basket and pinned it on the line. I’d volunteered to help Mama hang the laundry, so she’d be in good spirits when Josie came to take me into town.
    Mama looked up toward the house, then pulled the clothespin from her teeth. “Shush,” she whispered.
    “We’re far enough away,” I said. “Eleanor won’t hear. And Viktor’s gone. And Josie and Diego are working in their sheds.”
    Mama shook her head, then handed me a soggy sheet.
    “Did you tell Viktor?” I asked. Mama never talked about those years she was a singer. Her hippie years in Amsterdam were like a thing that never happened. A