MARA 5
The train stopped at Islamorada right on time, and Dad was there with the truck to meet us. I'll never forget the look on his face when we paraded Jewel and Rudy down the ramp and onto the dirt road.
"Am I seeing right?" Dad asked.
"You're seeing right, Dad!" I yelled, pushing the tipsy wheelbarrow, with the dog trotting along behind me. "Sharkey bought a mule and a dog in Key West!" Sharkey led Jewel nicely this time. The mule was probably tired of the train ride and eager to keep Rudy in her sights.
"She's a pretty thing, isn't she?" Sharkey said proudly as Jewel nuzzled his arm.
"Her name's Jewel," I told Dad. "The dog came with her. His name's Rudy."
"My game leg's been bothering me, and I thought the mule could help pull the boats in when they need work -- that kind of thing," Sharkey explained.
"I suppose a mule could come in handy," Dad agreed.
"Mules have put this whole country together," Sharkey went on, somewhat defensively, as if he had to explain that he wasn't totally crazy to have come home with Jewel. "They took the pioneers out West, they built the Erie Canal..."
"They work in the coal mines," an unfamiliar girl's voice piped up. "I've seen them down there hauling the coal cars. Some of them have never seen the light of day." The girl was sitting on the steps of the train station. Beside her was a battered cardboard suitcase that looked as though it might fall apart at any moment. I wondered if she was traveling by herself.
She went up to Jewel and petted her nose. Jewel seemed to like it. "Excuse me. I couldn't help overhearing. I love mules, as you can probably tell. And this one is pretty, and sweet, too." The girl's long red hair, which was held back with a white headband, reminded me of Rudy's tail. I felt a bit ashamed when the thought crossed my mind; comparing a girl's hair to a dog's tail wasn't very nice. But Rudy's tail was beautiful -- long and silky -- and the girl's hair, which fell to her waist, was long and silky too.
"I was to meet my aunt Edith here, but she's late. Can you tell me how to find Edith Kraynanski's house?" she asked.
Dad and I looked at each other in surprise. Edith Kraynanski was a Polish lady who had lived alone in her tidy little house for as long as I could remember. She was known for the delicious Polish food that she often shared with her neighbors. We never knew she had any family. "I'll show you where she lives," I offered. "But first I should help Sharkey with the mule and the dog."
"I'll give Sharkey a hand," Dad offered. "After you take..." He paused.
"Mara," the girl said, holding out her hand. "Mara Lynn Kraynanski."
"How do you do, Mara," Dad said, shaking her hand. "I'm Doug Pitney, and this is my son, Jake. We live at the general store down the road apiece, and your aunt Edith lives near us." He turned to me. "Jake, take Mara's suitcase and show her to Miss Edith's place. I'll help with the mule until you can get back to Sharkey's."
"Yeah, it'll take some doing to get these animals situated," Sharkey agreed.
"Thank you." Mara smiled at me gratefully.
I took her suitcase. "Come on. Miss Edith's place is just up the road a way. One thing about Upper Matecumbe Key is that it's a narrow island, so everything is pretty close together in the town of Islamorada. Folks live on one side of the tracks or the other. These railroad tracks were built up so high above the main road, we think of them as hills."
Mara laughed. "You should see the hills in Pennsylvania, where I come from!"
We walked along quietly for a while, and then Mara said, "You look a lot like your dad."
"Everyone tells me that," I said. Dad and I both had kind of bronze-colored hair and dark eyes. Mom and Star looked alike too, with blond hair and pale blue eyes.
"You live here all the time?"
"Yep, I'm a real conch. I was born here."
"What's a conch?"
"It's really a shellfish, but people who live on the Keys are called conchs."
"Do you go to school here?"
"We go to school up in Tavernier, about fifteen miles north of here. They have electricity for two or three hours in the morning. But when I go to high school next year, I'll have to board down in Key West. What grade are you in?"
"I'm going into tenth grade. I'll be fifteen next year."
"I'll be fifteen next year." I didn't tell her that my fourteenth birthday wouldn't be until December. I didn't want her to know I was only thirteen right now.
As we walked, I noticed that Mara was whistling a tune under her breath, so softly I could barely hear it. "That's the Atlantic Ocean on that side," I said, pointing to the dark-blue water to the east.
Mara stopped and looked out at the sea. "I never saw the Atlantic Ocean until today. Did you ever see so many shades of blue and green? It's like shiny ribbons spread across the sea."
I stopped too and followed her gaze. I'd never noticed that about the sea before. The shades of blue, turquoise, and emerald did look like ribbons all twisted together and laid across the water.
We began walking again. "How long will you be visiting your aunt?" I asked.
"Oh, I'm not visiting. I've come to live with her. And she's really my great-aunt."
I wondered why a girl about my age would come to live with Miss Edith, who looked at least a hundred years old.
Mara must have read my thoughts. "I lived in Pennsylvania with my dad, but last month he was killed in a coal-mine accident." She looked away.
"I'm real sorry to hear that," I said.
"Aunt Edith is my only relative now," she went on. "I've written to her off and on over the years, but we've never met. She's from Poland and so was my dad. When she heard that Daddy died, she sent me the money to come down and live with her here."
I wondered about Mara's mother. She hadn't mentioned her at all. "Is your mother living?"
"I don't have a mother," Mara answered abruptly.
No mother? That was a strange answer, but I could tell that it was better not to ask any more. "You'll like it here," I said, trying to be cheerful. "Do you fish?"
"I never have. In Pennsylvania we lived near a coal mine, not the water."
"So that's how you know about the mules in the mines."
"Yes. Those mules are so smart. They know how to change the train rails for the coal carts by kicking the switches."
"Jewel seems to be a good mule -- as mules go, I guess." I paused, shifted the suitcase from one hand to the other, and pointed to a two-story wooden building across the road. "That's the Matecumbe Hotel," I said. "It's not fancy like the hotels in Key West or Miami, but it looks real pretty with those new striped awnings, doesn't it?"
"Very pretty, but I've never stayed in a hotel."
"Me neither. People from up north come down here to fish in the winter. They stay at the hotel, unless, of course, they're rich enough to stay at the Millionaires Club near the water."
"No wonder people come down. It's like paradise here." Mara smiled, and her face lit up.
I laughed. "That's what folks call this place. Paradise. Actually, Islamorada means 'island home.'"
"Now it will be my island home." Mara looked up at me with a grin. "I'd like to learn to fish now that I'm here."
"I'll teach you," I said.
As we walked, not speaking for a while, I noticed Mara's soft whistling again. When we passed by the Robinsons' house, Ripper, their burly dog with bowed legs and a big head, barked viciously and pulled against his chain. Mara clutched my arm, and her eyes widened. "Can he get loose?"
"Don't worry, he's shackled up good. But he's strong and nasty. Don't ever go near him," I warned her.
We had approached Miss Edith's little gray shack. "This is your aunt's place," I said, setting the suitcase on the porch. We looked around, but there was no sign of her anywhere. The few chickens she kept clucked around our feet.
Mara knocked on the door. "Aunt Edith?" she called.
The door creaked open and Miss Edith stood in the shadows. Except for a bright orange cobbler's apron, she was as pale as a ghost in the darkness of the room. Then I realized she was spattered with flour. "Oh my, oh my! You must be my dear Mara! I'm so forgetful! I was so busy cooking up kolacki and pierniki for you, I completely forgot the time! I can't believe I wasn't there to greet you! So foolish of me."
"It's all right, Aunt Edith. Jake brought me here."
Miss Edith reached out and gathered Mara into her arms. "Welcome, my little Mara!" she exclaimed. Miss Edith turned to me, wiped her pastry-covered fingers on her colorful apron, and stretched out her hand to me. "Thank you, Jake. You're such a good boy."
"You're welcome, Miss Edith," I said, carefully shaking her hand. The whole house smelled of good things to eat.
Once again, Edith Kraynanski took Mara into her arms. "I'm glad you've come to live with me, Mara."
"Thank you for sending for me, Aunt Edith," Mara said. "When Daddy died, I felt so alone and lost. I didn't know what to do or where to go." Mara's voice broke into a sob. "And then I got your letter and knew I still had someone in the world who cared what happened to me."
For a moment my own throat tightened. I couldn't even imagine what it must be like to lose your family and be alone in the world.
"It's all right, dear," Miss Edith said, stroking Mara's long hair. "This is your home now."
"And I have a new friend. Jake is going to teach me how to fish." Mara turned and smiled at me through her tears.
It made me feel good to see her smile -- and to be called her friend.
Copyright © 2007 by Joan Hiatt Harlow
RUINED PLANS 6
I went over to Sharkey's after saying good-bye to Mara and Miss Edith. Jewel was tied up with a thick rope to a gumbo-limbo tree, while Rudy was checking out the landscape, sniffing and smelling every bush. Dad had gone on home, and Sharkey was trying to erect a rickety fence that had fallen down over the years.
"This thing's too old and rotted." He hurled the dilapidated wood into the ...
