afternoon.â
âVibrato? Is it a trick?â asked Emily.
âYes,â said McGrew. âVibrato,â he recited, âis a tremulous or pulsating effect for adding warmth and beauty to the tone in music.â
Minna smiled. McGrew sounded like Imelda.
âIt makes the music sound better,â he sang, shaking his head to show the vibrato effect.
Emily nodded thoughtfully.
âA trick,â she agreed.
Minna sighed.
âLucas has a wonderful vibrato, Orsonâs on his way. Imelda soon. I want one,â said Minna, still practicing in her hand.
Emily shrugged. âSome people can do things that others canât.â She looked at McGrew. â I can catch,â she said wisely.
âTrue,â sang McGrew.
They walk up the sidewalk to Minnaâs house, past a rake lying in soggy leaves left over from last fall; past brown, crisp flowers in pots that Minnaâs mother forgot to bring in for the winter; past three huge green trash bags sitting on the porch, something oozing from one. Minna thinks about Lucasâs neat brick pathway through his neat brick courtyard. They walk through the kitchen, where there is a saucepan with last nightâs baked beans crusting over, a sink full of dirty dishes. Spilled sugar crunches under their feet. There is a note on the dining room table next to two dirty coffee cups, a pile of underwear, and the morning mail.
Gone shopping,
        Ma
Beside the note is a letter from one of their motherâs readers. It is typewritten with many xâs and a curious pattern of capital and lowercase letters.
DEar Mrxxs. PRatt,
I have TWo questions that only you, a WRiter, can ansxxswer because I know that writerxs know the anSwers.
1. HOw much does a tripewriter cost?
2. How do moths FLY?
        Love,
        Kiki
Minna stared at the letter. She knew her mother would spend a long time thinking about her answer. She would call typewriter stores to ask for information.
âThe moth question will take Mama days of research,â said McGrew, as if he had read Minnaâs thoughts.
âHow come?â asked Emily Parmalee. âAll moths do is move their wings. Up and down, you know?â
Minna and McGrew laughed, but Minnaâs throat felt tight. There was a sour restless feeling in her stomach. She left Emily and McGrew arguing quietly about moth wings and fly balls and wandered into her motherâs writing room.
I have, thought Minna closing her eyes, memorized the mess. Just as Mozart, so Imelda had informed them just this week, could identify chords and tones blindfolded when he was a child. Maybe I will be one of Imeldaâs facts someday, thought Minna: The Lone Cellist Left in the World Without a Vibrato . She moved around boxes of books and papers until she bumped against her motherâs typing table. She thought of Lucasâs house, where she could, if she wished, dance wildly, blindfolded, without bumping against anything. Minna opened her eyes and looked at a sheet of paper in the typewriter.
Dear Kiki,
Thank you for your letter . . .
Minna sat down slowly.
. . . regarding typewriters and moths. I certainly donât have all the answers, but I can tell you that the price of typewriters depends on whether you use manual or electric. Manual, of course, are less expensive and you can often get a second-hand typewriter. Electric cost anywhere from $149.95 plus tax to . . .
Mama had surely done her homework, thought Minna.
. . . $900.00 for the more expensive. And there are word processors. As for moths, I have consulted several science books, but need more information . . .
The letter stopped there, and it came to Minna in that moment, quite suddenly, that her mother had not gone shopping at all. She had gone to the library to look up moths. To find the answers.
Minna skimmed her hands quickly, gently,