“What kin I do, Daddy?” Vonnie was so excited. She exploring places, and there was so much to explore here.
“Your Aunt Sparky and I are going to pack things up in here, so why don’t you go out into the back yard and see if there is anything out there that we might want.” Her father informed her.
“’Kay.” She darted toward the back door.
“Vonnie.” Her father warned. “You stay in the back yard, where I can see you from the door. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
The little blond bombshell was outside at the speed of light. Billy walked over to the screen door and watched her bounce around in the grass for a moment.
“She’s fine.” Sparky assured him and used the tape gun to assemble another empty box. “Any idea when they can start going through what’s left of the Osbourne’s?”
“Maybe next week.” Billy squatted down in the floor and opened the doors beneath the old sink. “Oh man, where to start…where to start.”
“It’s so sad. You never think about the little things you leave behind. You hate to just throw it all away, especially knowing Miss Hilary. Every little dust bunny had some kind of memory or story, and no body thought to write any of it down.”
“The Clary’s said just to let ‘em know when to come and pick up anything that we don’t want.”
“So should we just box up what we’re taking for Ian and let them do the rest or box it all up and separate it into two piles?” Sparky looked out the door for her niece, knowing full well at any given moment she could be playing in the grass or trying to climb up on the roof.
“What do you think?” Billy sat in the floor and began pulling bottles and boxes of cleaners and Brillo pads.
“Normally, I’d say throw stuff like that out.” Sparky pointed to the things Billy was lining up on the linoleum. “But the Clary’s lost everything, so they can probably use it. Let’s make sure it’s all sealed tight, box it up and mark it like we were moving.”
“Good plan.” He made sure a container of Mr. Clean was shut tight and reached for an empty box.
“Here put everything like that in one of these first.” Sparky handed him a box of gallon size Ziplocs. “Have you talked to Ian?”
“A little while this morning.”
“How’s it going?”
“Well, he was going into the office. His neighbor was taking the boy out to buy clothes and stuff. He’s Ian…what can you say? He can juggle six chainsaws in the air, dance a tango and have a nervous breakdown all at the same time and never break a sweat.” Billy combined a few boxes of scouring pads together. “Your boss didn’t mind you taking off work?”
“Are you kidding? This is for Ian. He said to take all the time I needed. Besides, it’s kind of helping me with a story.”
“They finally put you back to reporting?”
“I wish.” Sparky was putting boxes of cereal and oatmeal in her own box. “This is something I’m doing on my own. I thought with the sudden publicity, I do a piece on the history of Lost Mountain.”
“Lost Mountain? God makes mountain, the rest of the world yawns, end of story.” Billy smirked, took some paper towels off the roll before he put it in the box and wiped the now empty cabinet out.
“Actually, there’s a very rich history here, and I hate to repeat myself but no one thought to write it down. Did you know that the original settlers on this mountain were all from the same family who basically lost a bet as to the outcome of the Civil War?”
“Guess that’s where the name comes from. It’s not like you could loose something this big.” Billy opened the bottom in a series of cabinet drawers. “Aw look…all Miz Hil’s special towels. She made every one of these by hand.” He held one up.
“That’s beautiful. Put those in a box for Ian. If nothing else, someday he might want to pass them on.” Sparky reached for one. “You know she made me a set of these for my hope chest.”
“Still hoping?” Billy teased.
“I’m still trying to narrow down my list.” Sparky slapped her brother on the back of the head. “Do you think Ian would mind if you kept a set for Vonnie?”
“He said for us to keep anything we wanted. I still have a little sweater set she knitted for Vonnie when we brought her home from the hospital. You know Miz Hil came over to the house everyday for almost two months when Donna got killed. She made sure we were taken care of.”
“That’s probably where Ian got it.”
“Got what?”
“You know, everyone else first, himself last.” Sparky sighed.
“You still spend hours writing Mrs. Ian Justyn in little hearts in your notebook?” Billy giggled.
“Gave up that dream a long time ago.” Sparky gave her brother a wry smile. “Have you?”
“Don’t go there, Spark.”
“Holy smokes.” Sparky looked around the room. “These old cabinets are so deep. Is there a step stool somewhere? My arms aren’t long enough.”
“Use a chair.” Billy pulled open the second drawer.
Sparky scooted a chair from the table to the counter and stood on it. “Okay, if I don’t come back in an hour, call for the bloodhounds.”
“Is it that deep?”
“Billy, Vonnie could get lost in here.”
Billy stood up and went over to look in the cabinet. “I forgot how these old places have all kinds of hidey holes. Need a flashlight?”
“No, but if I scream, pull me out quick.” Sparky rolled up the sleeves to her sweater. Billy watched the upper half of her body disappear into the cabinet.
“Jackpot!” her voice echoed.
“What?”
“I found where Santa Claus lives!” She started handing wrapped packages out. Billy took them from her and began to stack them on the kitchen counter.
“More?”
“Yup. Hold on.” A few more came out. Billy could hear his sister run her hands around feeling for anything else in the cabinet. “Clear! Coming up for air!”
Sparky withdrew herself from the cavern and sat down on the counter top. “Looks like we found one of her hiding places.” She picked up the wrapped packages and inspected. “I wonder if she even remembered this stuff was back there?”
“Maybe. I found a Christmas gift in the attic from two years ago for Vonnie I forgot about.” Billy began reading the names. “Ian, Ian, Ronnie, Ian, Ian…ooh this one’s for me!”
“Don’t you dare tear that paper!” Sparky caught him in pre-rip. “We are putting all those in a big box and we’ll make sure they are opened…at Christmas.”
Billy gave his sister a scowl. “Fine. I’ll put ‘em in my garage.”
“We’ll put them in my spare bedroom.” Sparky hopped down and grabbed an empty box. They started piling them in. “Wait. This one’s not for Christmas.”
“How can you tell?”
“The wrapping says ‘Happy Birthday’ not ‘Jesus Is Born’.” Sparky read the name. “Ian…September?”
“October.” Billy said.
“The big three oh. This will make the day special for him.” Sparky placed it to the side.
“Daddy! Daddy!” Vonnie slammed back in the screen door. “Look what I found!”
“What is it, Sugar?” Billy left the packages on the counter and got on his knees in front of his hyper four year old.
“It’s a old picher!” She held it for her father. “See!”
Billy looked at it. “Where’d you get this, Vonnie?”
The child suddenly looked guilty. “Nowhere. It just fell outta the sky.”
“I bet.” Billy took it from her and inspected further. “Did you wander next door?”
“No, Daddy. I promise.”
“Then where was this?”
“Laying over there by the field.” Vonnie smiled. “There’s all kinds a stuff laying in the weeds. Shoes, an’ bottles and burnt smelly stuff…and this! Ain’t it cool?”
Sparky took a step towards them. “Must be some things that got blown out of the house when the tank exploded.”
Billy looked at the pitcher. “This was Miss Hillary’s special milk pitcher. She used it on holidays. I wonder how this got in the back yard?”
“Look, Daddy.” Vonnie pointed at it. “There’s writin’ on it.”
“What?” Billy turned it bottom side up. His mouth dropped open and he looked up at his sister. Sparky bent over to read the letters etched into the bottom…I…A…N.
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