Country Pumpkin

Spring vacation pleased Tibby so much she could think of nothing else. She nearly skipped down the apartment steps. A swift rude creature dashed pell-mell down the stairs and then out the front door. Her hands fluttered like the wings of a butterfly in flight. Tibby raced after her down the busy street and into a dark alleyway. The blond child hid behind an oil drum. Her sobs gave way and Tibby found her. What monster lives near her thought Tibby.

"May I help? Why are you crying?" Tibby asked.
The sun came out warm and bright between the tall buildings. Yet, the child quivered as if cold. Her hands circled her mouth. She has no words thought Tibby. She hides and won't come out.
"With all my heart I want to help you!" Tibby told her, and promised to ask mother her name.
Tibby fussed with her shirtsleeve hoping she could safely overcome her rude helplessness. Her morning was ruined. A stab of something sharp like a dart caught in her side. Tibby squirmed with disappointment, and backed away.
Tibby's mama slowly climbed two flights of stairs to the third floor apartment. Shopping bags covered the kitchen table. Tibby watched from her bedroom window the shopkeepers as they washed windows, and piled fresh fruits and vegetables. A great company of trucks and wheeled things went by.
Across the street Great Dane dogs pounced on a chain-link fence. Saliva dripped frim their mouths, and their long legs jumped and jumped fiercely able to get free.From far above a windfall of snowflakes drifted down from the open sky and filled the window sill. Tibby gave a long sigh. Her big brown eyes searched the city streets. Where are the little birds? Where are the spring flowers? Then she remembered Gram's words, spring comes on cat's feet.

First one flower blooms, then another, then another.

The small apartment looked empty. Someone below yelled for the mailman. What a commotion a person can't think around here muttered Tibby to herself. Mama complained, and tossed her suitcase on the bed. She took clothes from the dresser and folded them.
"Where are we going?" asked Tibby.
"We are going to your grandmother's today. The train leaves soon!" mother said.
"I chased a girl down the street. She hid behind an oil barrel. She was very upset. Who is she? Why was she crying?" asked Tibby.
"She is most likely crying because Piney's parakeet died. The bird was a favorite pet. Karen is mute. She has no words." Mama explained.

Later she picked up the suitcase and took Tibby's hand. Fear gripped Tibby's heart as they descended the stairs. Where are the dogs now? Mama walked quickly toward a waiting yellow taxi cab. The car door opened, and they climbed into the cab safe and sound.
Steam released its pressure with a loud, long hiss-s-s from beneath the black bulk of the Bangor- Aroostook locomotive. Mama and Tibby hurried to find a good seat. The locomotive's engine builds up steam from the heat that burns red fired coals, and circulates very hot water throughout its chambers. The conductor signaled to the engineer. Two blows from his whistle meant the train was ready to leave. Woo! woo! clang, clang, clang went the train.
Tibby gladly took a window seat. She wiped the steamy wet window with her hand and looked out.
"All aboard!" cried the conductor for the last time. Mama gave a sigh of relief. The passenger train was on its way. The train jerked as it picked up speed. At the same moment a very surprised blond girl slipped from her seat nearly onto the floor.
"Hello, Miss," said the conductor, "Welcome Mr. Bishop to America! I hope you are comfortable.This is a fine March day." Then the conductor whispered, "You might see a deer or two feeding at the edge of the woods."
"Oh, I'm so sorry. This is a very long journey for Papa and me. My name is Rhonda. I'm going to visit my grandma for the first time." Rhonda said sadly.
Tibby gave a friendly smile, "I'm visiting Gram and Papa in La Grange. I could hug every spruce tree and ash tree in the yard. This is school vacation. Is this your vacation, too?"
Rhonda's voice nearly cracked. "My grandma Bishop is very sick. We are from London, England. This is my first trip to the United States. I know grandma won't meet us at the station. I am twelve years old, and I haven't ever met her or talked with her!" exclaimed Rhonda.
Tibby gathered her courage. "Gram says, if March comes in like a lion, it will go out like a lamb."
Rhonda took this advice as if it were a fact and tucked it away.

With a keen sense of purpose Tibby proceeded to tell Rhonda all about her illustrious people and countryside. Deep down Tibby hoped to delight her. Words flowed from her lips.

"I want to tell you a story like the best parts at Gram's," said Tibby.
I like the tender eye of a full old man in the moon. Clearly his light shines out across the soft, white snow covered fir trees. I wonder why I like the country so much. Uncle Ron works in the woods. He tells stories about pulp wood they hauled , and the animals that visit them at odd hours. Coyotes and bobcat chase the deer in the winter time. Sometimes, we can hear them travel at night.
In the winter time the cold sharp sparkle of frost, and sheets of ice forms evenly between rows and rows of garden dirt. I like to freely skate on it, and watch bubbles below the surface. After a storm white on white snow drifts entertain at my window sparkling, curling, paused politely. I just imagine they are snow people who stand there like soldiers. I laugh and stare and circle around again thinking I should show my best turns for the theater.