Flight of the Sparrows Read online

  They all agreed that if he had seen any large migrating flocks, he probably would have taken note of it. Paul did promise that the next time he went up, he’d keep his eyes open for birds and give Bonnie a full report.

  “Next time?” Kate paused in midsip of her ice water. “So you’re definitely going up again?”

  “If Lucas needs a warm body to fill the seat, I’d love to do it,” he said. He looked at his wife, who smiled at him, supporting his decision but not altogether enthusiastic about it. He grinned and added, “And who knows, I may see something from that angle that you nonflyers might overlook completely.”

  Chapter Ten

  Kate awoke just before dawn on Saturday morning and decided to head out back for her morning prayers and meditation. It was the perfect time of year to envelop herself in God’s creation. She wrapped herself in her robe, gathered her coffee mug and Bible, and went out the sliding-glass door.

  Dew clung to the top of the black wrought-iron chairs. Kate wiped one down with a corner of her robe and sat down, inhaling the delicious aroma of her coffee. A sense of gratitude for the bounty God provided welled up within her, and she smiled to herself.

  Touched and feeling alive, she took time to soak in the view of their maple tree and the tree-covered hills behind her yard. The darkness had lifted, and the bright promise of the new day gave an almost magical distinction to the redbuds and giant tulip poplars. Kate racked her brain to recall a poem or snippet of literature that might do it justice. Words seemed inadequate. Perhaps a psalm or hymn?

  And then it came. Sweeter than the most artfully crafted prose or poem, an inspired gift from God to those he loved. Kate listened as his creation sang his praises. “Morning song” she’d heard it called, when the birds awoke to serenade one another and welcome the new day.

  It began with a trill, a distant call. Soon an answer rang back from across the hills. With every moment, more voices rose and joined the cardinals, bluebirds, mourning doves, and even those nondescript varieties of wrens, sparrows, and warblers. Kate smiled, remembering that Bonnie called them LBBs: little brown birds.

  Each new and different song lifted Kate’s heart and gave her cause for praise. The simple beauty of their existence filled her with awe. She marveled that she hadn’t stopped to immerse herself in this impressive experience more often since coming to this part of the country. If she asked, Bonnie would tell her in detail why this musical morning ritual happened and what purpose it served, but for this moment, Kate just wanted to enjoy it.

  Reading the Scripture for the day, Kate was reminded of how God’s world was so full of wonder and beauty. But so often his people got caught up in the bustling business of their own worlds that they didn’t take time to savor the goodness of simple things, like the changing of the seasons, the splendor of a sunrise, or the song of the birds. She folded her hands in her lap and closed her eyes.

  She wished now that she had paid more attention to the birds and wildlife in and around Copper Mill. She, like most people, enjoyed her surroundings but only really focused on them when something special caught her attention. She’d admire a deer by the side of the road or a flock of geese flying overhead or a pair of cardinals fussing.

  She scanned the hills, trying to pick out any birds among the trees. For just a second she felt alone in the world, just her and God and the birds.

  Her thoughts went to Artie Best. She just didn’t know what to make of him. He loved his birds, went to great pains to maintain his home and contributed to the community by teaching about the birds of the area. Yet he clearly didn’t enjoy people—with the exception of the Howells—cared little for his personal appearance, and wanted to shut Sparrowpalooza bird-watchers off from his property.

  Kate adjusted the Bible in her lap and turned to the concordance. She wanted to find a verse about how much God valued each of his children but found herself searching the verses that contained the word sparrow. She found what she was looking for—the perfect verse to encompass both Bonnie’s protective instincts about the missing birds and the lesson that Artie Best, of all people, could stand to be reminded of.

  She slipped her feet out of her slippers, then propped them up on the waterproof cushion on the chair across from her. She let her outstretched legs create a makeshift table for her Bible. She flipped the pages to the book of Matthew, the tenth chapter. Then she moved her fingertip down to the verses listed in the concordance: twenty-nine through thirty-one.

  She took in a deep breath of morning air, then read out loud, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.”

  She closed the book and turned her thoughts again to the lonesome bird wrangler. Many people might say he was as common as a sparrow, nothing special to the eye, just a simple fellow. And yet, the Father had his eyes on Artie Best, just as he did on Kate and Paul, and their children, grandchildren, and everyone.

  Artie Best was worth more than many sparrows, and Kate committed to herself to keeping that in mind in all their interactions. She concluded that thought with a prayer for Bonnie’s quest to find out why the birds had disappeared, and then paused for a moment of gratitude.

  Not long after that, when Kate had finished her quiet time, she heard the sliding-glass door open. According to Bonnie, if the early bird catches the worm, then the dedicated birder had to be even earlier to catch sight of the bird. So Kate had invited Bonnie to come over for breakfast so they could get an early start on the day.

  “Good morning.” Bonnie stepped outside wearing a long-sleeved pink and lavender tunic over sage green jogging pants. She had on thick ankle socks and traction-soled, white athletic shoes. “May I join you, or do you want some peace and quiet?”

  “Oh, I have peace to spare out here this morning.” Kate put her feet down and into her slippers. “But I’m finding out that this time of day isn’t really all that quiet—if you take the time to listen.”

  “It’s pretty clear that there’s no bird shortage here in town.” Bonnie took the seat across from Kate and smiled warmly. She shut her eyes, and her smile faded as she added, “Yet.”

  “Yet?” Kate sat up. “Bonnie, you don’t think...?”

  “Until we know what’s going on, we can’t assume it will only affect the birds along Pine Ridge Road and Best Acres Line Road.” Bonnie lowered her steady gaze to Kate’s. “If it’s an illness, it could just be a matter of time until it spreads. Or if the hand of man is to blame, well, anything is possible.”

  Kate nodded. “I’d thought of that. How will we know what the cause is?”

  Bonnie stared out at the hillside behind the house and exhaled thoughtfully. “I actually don’t think we’re looking at a disease or parasites or anything like that, since we haven’t encountered dead birds. We also haven’t found any feathers in the brush when we went exploring along the road, or at Artie’s yesterday.”

  “So if the birds were ill, they might be losing their feathers?” Kate shook her head. “I didn’t even look for feathers.”

  “That’s all right, dear. If I’d seen any, I’d have alerted you to keep a sharp eye out for more.” Bonnie put her hand on Kate’s knee and laughed. “So do you make a habit of getting up early to greet the morning?”

  “Just drawing a little inspiration to fortify me throughout the day.” Kate showed Bonnie her Bible. “I don’t usually come out here for my devotions, but with the birds, and you and Artie on my heart, it seemed the right place for some prayer and time in the Word.”

  Bonnie gave her hand a squeeze and sighed. “I’m ashamed to admit this, but while you’ve spent time in your day in quiet contemplation, I can’t seem to get my mind on anything more substantial than this.” She tapped her finger on the side of her head.

  “Your own thoughts?”

  “My hair!”

  “Your hair?” Kate sco
oted to the edge of her chair and gave the tousled waves of platinum-blonde hair a closer look.

  “What with the trip and all the time outdoors yesterday, it’s a mess. I keep worrying what people will think of me in your church tomorrow. I want you to be proud of your old teacher. I know we were planning on bird-watching this morning, but...”

  “I’m proud of you no matter what, Bonnie.” Kate stood and bent down to give her friend a big hug. “But if it would make you feel better to get your hair done, then I know just the place.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Saturdays were usually busy at Betty’s Beauty Parlor. It was often the only day women and girls could get their hair cut, colored, or styled. Between Saturday night activities and the regulars who wanted to look good for church, Kate knew she was asking a lot when she pleaded with Betty Anderson to work Bonnie in.

  “Of course I’ll work her in,” Betty had said. “I’m always a little behind, anyway. Somebody down the line won’t mind waiting a few minutes for a good cause.”

  Bonnie had conceded that she could probably do something with her hair herself, but she couldn’t help being a little excited at the idea of meeting new people and seeing more of Copper Mill. So they scheduled the appointment and hurried to get ready.

  “I may be out flying today,” Paul told her. “So I probably won’t see you until dinnertime.” He gave her a kiss and headed out the door.

  Kate chose a quilted, jewel-toned jacket out of the bedroom closet to wear over her green turtleneck and dark slacks, then gave him a kiss. “Dinner, then. Why don’t I make something extra special?”

  “Something fried?” he asked, rubbing his stomach.

  Kate laughed and moved past him to take a quick look in the mirror. Paul made healthy choices most of the time, but when he wanted something special, he wanted something Southern and savory. “How about fried chicken and cobbler for dessert?”

  “Peach cobbler?” He gave her a tentative look.

  “With French-vanilla ice cream on top.” She held her hand up in a pledge.

  “I can’t wait!” He laughed and gave her a hug. “You and Bonnie have fun. Flying or not, I have some errands to run, and I have to go over my notes for tomorrow. I’m looking forward to a quiet dinner with you two, and I may even have some questions for Bonnie.”

  He picked up a pair of reading glasses, one of several he kept stashed around the house and church. “I plan to do a bit of reading up on birds. I even stopped into the library yesterday on my way home, but I’m not really sure that I need any of those books. Have you noticed lately how the print in so many books has become abnormally small?”

  He gave her a wink to let her know he was aware that at sixty-two his eyes were more likely the things that had changed, not the text.

  “I didn’t realize you’d developed an interest in birding, Paul.” She raised a brow, pretending to be skeptical.

  “Stalking around all those trees and bushes? With my allergies?” He feigned a sneeze for her amusement. “I just thought that with all the stir around town about these rare sparrows, I might weave in a few bird metaphors or analogies into my sermon.”

  “Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows?” She repeated part of the verse from Matthew that she’d been meditating on during her devotions.

  “I was thinking of something a little less on the nose.” He walked behind her into the living room. “I’m trying to recall some things my grandmother used to say about the birds that would come to her feeder and nest in her trees. I want an anecdote or...I can’t really say right now, but I’ll know it when I see...or hear...or remember it.”

  He gave Bonnie and Kate a wave as he headed for the door and reminded Kate that he would be eating light so he’d be plenty hungry for that night.

  WHEN KATE AND BONNIE arrived at Betty’s Beauty Parlor later that morning Betty and the two other stylists, Alicia and Ronda, were busy with clients. Other customers were waiting on the benches at the front of the shop, and the place was a hubbub of activity.

  “Oh, Betty, thank you so much for shifting your schedule around on such a busy day,” Kate called out as she stood at the Formica counter by the door.

  “Don’t fret over it one little bit. I’m happy to do it.” Betty looked up from putting the finishing touches on a haircut for Agnes Kelly. “I can squeeze you in as soon as I’m done with Agnes.”

  “Just a comb-out and a bit of what I like to call ‘a little air in the hair.’” Bonnie put her hand a couple of inches above her flattened hairdo to indicate where she hoped it would reach. “I don’t need anything fancy.”

  The stylist fixed her shining gray eyes on Bonnie’s platinum-blonde hair, a full shade paler than Betty’s own bottle-blonde hue, and a wistful look came over her face. “My word! Hair like that? I could carry off a style with air to spare!”

  Bonnie laughed appreciatively at her enthusiasm and said, “That’s all right by me. You know we have a saying in Texas: the higher the hair, the closer to heaven. So I say, don’t stop until you hear the angels sing!”

  “Well, don’t let me keep you from her.” Agnes tugged off the cape around her neck.

  Bonnie took the chair, and Betty dove into action.

  Kate took a seat on the bench with the women waiting for their turn.

  When Betty finished, Bonnie rose from the chair and did a pivot and wave worthy of a beauty queen taking the stage.

  Just before they walked out the door, Bonnie twisted around and gave the complex structure of teased hair with side-swept bangs a pat. “I haven’t gone in for anything this special since the party they had for me on my last day of school. I can’t imagine when I’ll ever have a reason to do anything like this again.”

  “Oh, don’t fall into that trap,” Betty warned as she helped her next customer settle into the chair.

  “Trap?” Bonnie froze with one hand resting on her stiffly sprayed hair. “What trap?”

  “I’ve seen so many women reach an age where they don’t go out as often or don’t have to present a certain image for work, and they start thinking why bother?” Betty shook her head. “They resign themselves to the idea that those things are behind them. Bonnie, even if you’re not going off to work, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t keep making an effort to look and feel good. Remember, you’re retired from a job, not from life.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Betty.” Bonnie gave her a wave.

  Out on the sidewalk, Kate complimented her friend, then said, “Now, what do you feel like doing? We have some time before we need to do the grocery shopping and start dinner.”

  “Think maybe we can go somewhere and get a scarf?” Bonnie laughed. “I feel an obligation to keep this hairdo intact at least until after church tomorrow.”

  “So that means no traipsing through brush and trees looking for birds today?” Kate directed Bonnie to turn and walk to the left.

  “That means even if I do find a scarf, I think that for today and tomorrow, we can forgo the great bird quest and just enjoy the picturesque surroundings and lovely company. Starting now, I declare a bird-free zone.”

  “All right, then. Let’s go to the Mercantile just down the way here.” Kate pointed to the end of the row of shops where the beauty parlor sat. “I don’t think we’ll go far enough to bump into any birds along the way, so I guess we can maintain that bird-free zone easily enough.”

  “Mrs. Hanlon! Mrs. Mulgrew!” Before they could take more than a few steps, Charlene Howell called out to them from across the street. She waved and hurried over to them so quickly, she had to pause to catch her breath before speaking. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you—alone.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Kate pursed her lips, unsure what to make of that. “You want to talk to one of us alone?”

  “No, I mean without...other people around.” Charlene looked to the left and right, then when she fixed her gaze on them again, she smiled. “I like your hair, Mrs. Mulgrew. Did you jus
t have it done?”

  “Thank you. Yes, I wanted it to look nice for church tomorrow.”

  “Church! Is tomorrow Sunday already?” Charlene put her hands to her cheeks. “We’ve been roughing it a bit on this trip. I’ve lost all track of the days without things like my regular TV shows to keep me on schedule.”

  Kate and Bonnie laughed with her, and Kate took note of the woman’s hands. Charlene had some of the same kinds of scars that Kate had noticed on Dud’s hands. There were fewer of them, and they were lighter, but still, it captured Kate’s attention. Kate knew what it was like to go around with bandages on her fingers and tiny cuts and nicks from the days when she first started working with stained glass. Those marks hadn’t resulted in lasting scars, but she could imagine how that could happen to a person who worked with his or her hands.

  Kate also noted that despite the roughness of her hands, Charlene wore nail polish: a dark, trendy shade, but badly chipped. It seemed an odd mix, that someone who had set out on a trip to try to get a look at birds in the wild would have done her nails. Then she thought of Betty’s admonition to try to look and feel your best. Kate decided that Charlene might not want to concede certain things she enjoyed just because of her circumstances.

  “We always try to get to church even when we’re away from home. Artie mentioned that you’re one of the local ministers’ wives,” Charlene said as she put her hand on Kate’s arm. “What church do you attend?”

  Kate told her about Faith Briar and extended an invitation for them to join them in the morning.

  “We’ll certainly try. Absolutely.” Charlene smiled broadly.

  “Well, Charlene, we’d love to see you and Dud there,” Kate said. “We were just on our way to the Mercantile. Would you like to join us? That will give us a chance to chat.”

  When Charlene happily agreed to tag along with them to the Mercantile, Kate realized that despite not wanting other people to hear what she had to say, Charlene didn’t mind talking in a public place. So, Kate assumed, that meant there was someone very specific whom Charlene didn’t want to overhear her. This seemed interesting to Kate, and she was eager to hear what Charlene had to say.