cucumber-seed packet to mark where they’d been planted.
She reached up to the top shelf in the garden shed, her hand searching for a stake. Something smooth and round came into contact with her fingertips. A lighter. Hmm. Why was a white Bic lighter on the top shelf in the garden shed? Slipping it into her pocket, she decided to tell the family. It was extremely odd.
She found a stake, attached the seed packet with a thumb-tack, and stuck the marker into the ground. That was really cute.
Mam hurried out to the garden, saying it was time for the pea wire to be put up. Those pea vines were growing faster every time she checked them.
Sarah had just emerged from the garden shed with an armload of stakes when a gray car came slowly up the driveway and rolled to a stop beside the garden.
Two policemen extricated themselves from the unmarked car as Mam dropped her roll of wire and went to greet them. They exchanged pleasantries, Mam’s voice low and careful, the way she was with strangers.
“This the new barn?”
“Yes.”
“No information? Nothing unusual? No sightings? No media?”
“Um, excuse me. What is media?” Mam asked, clearly ashamed that she didn’t know.
“Photographers? People asking questions? Reporters?”
Mam shook her head.
Sarah’s heart pounded. Should she come forward with the lighter? But it had been in the garden shed and likely had nothing to do with the fire at all.
She decided to keep her peace and went back to pound stakes into the loose soil.
The policemen asked for Dat, and Mam pointed to the team of mules pulling the corn planter.
Quite suddenly, the white lighter felt red hot, like a small plastic conscience burning a hole in Sarah’s pocket. Stumbling across the garden, she was surprised that her hand wasn’t burning, that the lighter was smooth and cool.
The officers looked up.
“H…hello,” she stammered.
“Yes, young lady?”
She held up the lighter, explained how uncommon it was to find a lighter on the top shelf in the garden shed.
The tall, heavy officer asked quickly if there were more children around. Was there a possibility that one of the younger children had hidden the lighter?
It was terrible to see the color drain from Mam’s face and the raw dread in her eyes. Surely not Mervin or Suzie? “Get Dat,” she ordered, her voice quivering.
Sarah handed the lighter to the police and ran swiftly past the strawberry patch, white with blossoms, past the raspberries, the compost pile, the woodpile, and over the small wooden bridge built over a cement drain pipe. She stood at the edge of the field, waving her arms, although she remained quiet, until he came closer.
“ Komm ! Komm rei ! (Come in!)”
Dat waved in acknowledgment, finished the row, and then turned the mules toward the house. He left them standing by the garden without tying them and went to greet the officers, tipping back his straw hat to wipe the dirt from his brow.
“Yes. Mr. Beiler.”
“Hello. Good to meet you.”
“I’m supposing each member of the family has been thoroughly questioned?”
“As far as I know.”
“You have no reason to believe any of your children would have been playing with this lighter?”
The officer held it up, and Dat’s face blanched, quiet confidence replaced with confusion.
“Well…”
“Your daughter found it.”
Sarah answered Dat’s questions and turned to find Suzie and Mervin scootering home from school.
“Here are the little ones.”
Dat’s voice tried to be confident, but the bravado held a tinge of doubt.
What if? Sarah thought.
What if Mervin had been playing with the lighter, became afraid, and hid it? Or Suzie? It was unthinkable, Suzie being so timid, so conscientious. Still, one never knew.
The children were called to join them. Priscilla came from the barn, her face glowing from her ride, but she swallowed, wrapped her arms about her waist, and scuffed her sneaker into the dirt.
The police questioned them, not unkindly,
She reached up to the top shelf in the garden shed, her hand searching for a stake. Something smooth and round came into contact with her fingertips. A lighter. Hmm. Why was a white Bic lighter on the top shelf in the garden shed? Slipping it into her pocket, she decided to tell the family. It was extremely odd.
She found a stake, attached the seed packet with a thumb-tack, and stuck the marker into the ground. That was really cute.
Mam hurried out to the garden, saying it was time for the pea wire to be put up. Those pea vines were growing faster every time she checked them.
Sarah had just emerged from the garden shed with an armload of stakes when a gray car came slowly up the driveway and rolled to a stop beside the garden.
Two policemen extricated themselves from the unmarked car as Mam dropped her roll of wire and went to greet them. They exchanged pleasantries, Mam’s voice low and careful, the way she was with strangers.
“This the new barn?”
“Yes.”
“No information? Nothing unusual? No sightings? No media?”
“Um, excuse me. What is media?” Mam asked, clearly ashamed that she didn’t know.
“Photographers? People asking questions? Reporters?”
Mam shook her head.
Sarah’s heart pounded. Should she come forward with the lighter? But it had been in the garden shed and likely had nothing to do with the fire at all.
She decided to keep her peace and went back to pound stakes into the loose soil.
The policemen asked for Dat, and Mam pointed to the team of mules pulling the corn planter.
Quite suddenly, the white lighter felt red hot, like a small plastic conscience burning a hole in Sarah’s pocket. Stumbling across the garden, she was surprised that her hand wasn’t burning, that the lighter was smooth and cool.
The officers looked up.
“H…hello,” she stammered.
“Yes, young lady?”
She held up the lighter, explained how uncommon it was to find a lighter on the top shelf in the garden shed.
The tall, heavy officer asked quickly if there were more children around. Was there a possibility that one of the younger children had hidden the lighter?
It was terrible to see the color drain from Mam’s face and the raw dread in her eyes. Surely not Mervin or Suzie? “Get Dat,” she ordered, her voice quivering.
Sarah handed the lighter to the police and ran swiftly past the strawberry patch, white with blossoms, past the raspberries, the compost pile, the woodpile, and over the small wooden bridge built over a cement drain pipe. She stood at the edge of the field, waving her arms, although she remained quiet, until he came closer.
“ Komm ! Komm rei ! (Come in!)”
Dat waved in acknowledgment, finished the row, and then turned the mules toward the house. He left them standing by the garden without tying them and went to greet the officers, tipping back his straw hat to wipe the dirt from his brow.
“Yes. Mr. Beiler.”
“Hello. Good to meet you.”
“I’m supposing each member of the family has been thoroughly questioned?”
“As far as I know.”
“You have no reason to believe any of your children would have been playing with this lighter?”
The officer held it up, and Dat’s face blanched, quiet confidence replaced with confusion.
“Well…”
“Your daughter found it.”
Sarah answered Dat’s questions and turned to find Suzie and Mervin scootering home from school.
“Here are the little ones.”
Dat’s voice tried to be confident, but the bravado held a tinge of doubt.
What if? Sarah thought.
What if Mervin had been playing with the lighter, became afraid, and hid it? Or Suzie? It was unthinkable, Suzie being so timid, so conscientious. Still, one never knew.
The children were called to join them. Priscilla came from the barn, her face glowing from her ride, but she swallowed, wrapped her arms about her waist, and scuffed her sneaker into the dirt.
The police questioned them, not unkindly,
Similar Books
