The Unsung Hero of Birdsong, USA by Brenda Woods

Author:Brenda Woods
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2019-01-07T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

A person who hasn’t taken this ride as many times as I have might call the sights along the way interesting. But the drive from Birdsong to Charleston during the summertime is usually the same.

While Daddy drove, Mama hummed and sang along with the radio music. Now and then they’d talk to each other or me about this or that, but there really wasn’t that much conversation. I imagined that if Patrick had come along like he was supposed to, we’d be busy yakking, but that morning Doc Riley had said his mama was about ready to have the baby, and for that reason Patrick had to stay close. So, for over an hour I mostly daydreamed, but if sometime later a person had asked me about what, I probably wouldn’t have been able to tell them. In that way, my daydreams are much the same as the dreams that happen along when I’m asleep, for the most part—forgotten.

I knew we were close to the shore when the salty-air smell hit me, followed by the sounds of seagulls. Soon, the Atlantic Ocean came into view and I gazed out to the horizon where the dark blue of the water and the lighter blue of the sky meet.

“Such a lovely breeze,” Mama noted. “A trifle cooler than Birdsong.”

Before long, we had turned the corner to Tradd Street, where Cousin Polly and Them live. The American flag flapped from the pole holder on the front porch of their big three-story, cream-colored house. The walkway was lined with blooming rosebushes, mostly red.

I was just out of the car when the screen door of the house next to theirs opened and a girl about Tink’s age stepped out. She was dressed in a white shirt and blue dungarees rolled up to her knees. Her long curly hair was a color smack-dab between red and brown. She was one of those people who stand out from the rest, a thing you have no choice but to notice first, a full moon in a sea of small stars on a clear night.

Mama and Daddy glanced her way too. “Must be that friend of Tink’s from New York City,” Mama said.

I searched through my memories for her name until I found it. “Helene.”

Like a cat burglar, Helene quietly stole my attention. And my eyes were forced to remain glued on her as I followed Mama and Daddy up the path to Cousin Polly’s. When I suddenly tripped on the uneven walkway and stumbled, I expected her to laugh like Emma probably would have, but Helene only smiled a smile that, maybe because I didn’t want to see it or maybe because it really wasn’t there, contained no meanness.

“Stop gawking, Gabriel,” Mama warned.

Daddy turned to me and winked.

“Seems nice,” I remarked.

In a blink, she headed inside, and right after her door closed, the doorway to Cousin Polly’s opened. “What’s buzzin’, cuzzins?” Tink said. Her Kodak camera swung from her neck.

Mama nearly had one foot inside when Teddy, Auntie Rita, and Cousin Polly crowded the doorway.

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