RWC #38 (37B)

SONG

"Somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high, there's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby!" The little girl sang the words quietly, her voice sweet, in tune, lush, for one so young.  She brushed her doll's hair, and braided it as she sang, "Somewhere, over the rainbow, blue birds fly. Birds fly over the rainbow.  Why, then, oh why can't I?"

It was raining up in the mountains, and she could see it coming down to wash the valley, to rid it of the last snows of winter.  She could hear her mother and her big sister outside talking as they hurried to take the washing off the line.  She looked up at the view outside her window, and hummed the song some more.

"It's a beautiful rainbow, isn't it, Amy?"

The voice made her jump up quickly, dropping the dusky-faced doll where she had been sitting to throw herself gleefully into the arms of the man who stood just inside her door, smiling at her.

"Uncle Dan!  Uncle Dan!" she screeched in excitement, and hugged his neck tightly, gifting him with a smacking kiss on his dimpled cheeks.

"Hey, Pigtails!"  Daniel Collins dropped his bags and hugged the little girl, kissing her soundly on both cheeks.  "Boy, have I missed you!"

"I missed you, too, Uncle Dan!"  Amy pulled her face away to peruse his whiskered one, and the look on her face made him smile wider.

"Keep looking at me like that, and you're bound to get your candy sooner rather than later!" He chuckled as she laughed merrily, and wriggled her way down and out of his arms.  Pulling him along with her, she raced as fast as she could go with a six-foot-six 250-pound man in tow to the back door, where her mother and sister were just entering, a few minutes ahead of the rapidly approaching rainstorm.

Miranda, her sister, put her basket down and rushed as elegantly as a teenager would over to her favorite uncle, hugging him and letting herself be kissed.

"Prettier every day, Miranda!  Will I have to ride shotgun while I'm here?"

Miranda blushed prettily, but he knew she was pleased at his compliment.  "I don't have anyone you need to protect me from, Uncle Daniel!" she answered with a sedate smile.  "The boys aren't interested in me."  There was no wistfulness in her tone, just a plainness that told him she was okay with that.

"Then they're all blind, or stupid, or both!" he declared.

"Wade likes her, Uncle Dan, but she doesn't give him the time of day!"  Amy made her pronouncement with typical childlike enthusiasm at having said something grown-up, and having added to the conversation in a meaningful way.

Daniel watched his older niece frown slightly, and then remove all expression from her face. Hmmm...something to find out more about, he thought, and turned his attention to their mother.  Joy Collins was the most beautiful woman he had ever known, and his deep love for her was unabated.  That she was his brother's widow was only one reason he did nothing more about his feelings than watch out for her and the girls, and come for a visit as often as he could.  

The other reason was that he did not know how she felt about him, and he knew if she knew the feelings he had been harboring for her for all the time he had known her, she would have barred him from her home.  She had been married for ten years before Rick had died in a fiery collision on the Interstate.  Now, a year later, he was home on leave from duty, and as always, his first stop was her home.  He watched her now as she put her own basket down slowly, and turned to face him.

"Dan!  How lovely to see you!"  Her smile was as warm as her voice, but he noted that she avoided his eyes.

"Always a pleasure to come here, Joy!" he said, keeping his tone and his words light.  He reached for her, and she bestowed a light peck on his cheek before moving away, and he let her go with only a small, light, one-handed hug.

"I was about to serve lunch when we noticed the storm coming," she said, "so you're just in time!"  She went to the counter, where she had begun to lay out food. "Girls, help me set the table while your uncle washes up."

"Same room, Joy?" he asked.

"Yes!  Don't hurry!  There's still the sandwiches to make!"

Dan turned away, retrieving his bags on the way to what he had come to call "his" room.  It was small and neat, a double bed, prettily spread with a rainbow-colored blanket, sheer curtains at the windows, and a chest of drawers with a single yellow rose in a bud vase atop it. He threw his bags on the bed and went into the small adjoining bathroom, deciding to remove only his uniform shirt, and put on one of the black tees he favored.  By the time he walked back into the kitchen, there were three place settings, and soup was being carried to the table to complete the lunch settings.  There were sandwiches in a plate in the middle, a jug of what looked like lemonade, spoons, and three glasses.

"Would you like coffee now or later?" Joy asked, motioning him to sit in the chair his brother had always sat in.

"Probably later, thanks!"  He smiled at her, and swallowed the emotions that had been threatening to swamp him from the moment he had walked up the path to the front door.

"Uncle Dan, have you ever walked to the end of the rainbow?"

Amy's question shook him out of his reverie, and he chuckled at her.  "No, Pigtails, I haven't! And I doubt anyone has!  Why do you ask?"

"Can we say grace first, please?  I'm starving!"  Miranda brought them to attention, and after she hurriedly said grace, Amy said,

"Well, don't they say there's a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?"

"Yes, but that's just a story, little one!"

The little girl seemed to ponder that as she ate her sandwich first, obviously waiting for the soup to cool.  The rain, which had come minutes before, pounded down on the roof, the windows, the earth, and the dark it brought was such that they had to switch on the lights to see.  

"It's gone," Amy said suddenly.  "The rainbow's gone!"

"Well, it's storming now, sweetie.  The sun has to be out for there to be a rainbow," Dan explained patiently.

"You mean it's not there all the time?"  She seemed particularly offended by that possibility.

"I'm afraid not, Pudd!" he answered, finishing his soup, and swallowing the last of his lemonade.

"So the song is wrong then?" she asked, her soup forgotten.  "Birds can't fly over the rainbow?"

How on Earth was he supposed to answer that?  He looked up, and found Joy's eyes on him, piercing, swirling with emotions he did not understand.  He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and said,

"Well, remember how we talked about the world of our imagination last time I was here?" he asked.  

"Yes," Amy replied, and got up from her chair to come and sit in his lap.

"Well, in that world, birds can fly anywhere they like, and so can we!  But it's only there, Pigtails!  Only there!"

"And there's a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow there?"

Dan smiled into her hair.  "Absolutely, Pudd!"  He pulled her away from his chest to say, "Now, if you finish your soup, I'll give you one of the special candies I've brought home just for you!"

His eyes wandered out the window to look at the mountain in the distance, and watched with a kind of awe as a splash of color began to hover over it, gradually deepening as he stared, as fascinated as his niece would have been had she seen it.  The sounds of rain slowed above and around him as the rainbow strengthened its hold on the sky, and he felt as though he was experiencing a kind of renewal, as though something significant was happening to him. He realized with a start that he had never seen a rainbow begin.  

"Look, Amy!" he said, directing the child's gaze out the window.  "It's back!"

There was no hope of getting her to finish her soup now.  She jumped up to peer out the big bay window, and soon he heard her humming again.  His eyes went back to Joy, standing before the sink, rinsing the dishes before stacking them in the dishwasher.  He was not aware of Amy leaving the room, nor of Miranda taking the laundry to the adjoining room to fold.  He could only watch Joy, and think how much he wished the world of HIS imagination could somehow make it into this world, into this kitchen.

"Birds fly over the rainbow.  Why, then, oh why can't I?"

Dan smiled at the exuberance of Amy's voice as she belted out the final words of the song. Why not, indeed?

Copyright © 2010 by Teri K D Bannerman

For others, read here------>RWC-37