Page 32 of Tamiko and the Two Janitors
“It can’t work.”
“Made up your mind on that score?” Kip flopped back. “Okay,you win. What was I even thinking? Guess it’s just you and me. Togetherforever. Sad fate.”
“Hey!”
“Kidding, kidding.” Kip snickered and hauled him over,tangling their legs together and wrapping his tail around Ash’s shoulders.
“I don’t want to be in love,” Ash whispered.
“That’s practically an admission.”
He grunted.
With experienced strokes, Kip settled ruffled feathers andkneaded away Ash’s tension. “Can I say something as your friend?”
He sighed and nodded.
“Talk to Cyril.”
“Guess I better,” Ash conceded.
“And….”
“And?”
Kip bussed his cheek. “You’re an idiot, and I love you.”
FOURTEEN
Foundling
October was the busiest month of an already busyseason, and Joe had been up extra late cleaning the cider press. Even so, hewas awake before the sun, escaping into the orchard with a sack of day-oldapplesauce doughnuts and a thermos of hot milk. It was easier to face neighborsand strangers alike if he faced himself first.
Otherwise, he’d spend all day out of step and fallingbehind.
Joe wasn’t sure why he needed this so badly. Not really.
True, it first started when Tami left home—school andinternships, jobs and conferences. He didn’t like losing sight of his twin, butshe had places to go, things to do. At least she still always came home. Hissister was part of his balance, but he had to stand on his own two feet.
Maybe that’s what this was.
His mornings in the orchard and oak glen—the relative hushof a waking world, the peace he found in puttering among the trees—helped himfind his own balance. He needed this little reminder that he was all right,even if he was alone.
Joe’s breath puffed in the chill morning air, and his bootsscuffed through heavy dew. No frost yet, but it wouldn’t be long now. He pacedalong the boundary, checking fences and keeping an eye out for trouble amongthe trees.
He paused to nip dead branches and new suckers, watching forsigns of pest or blight. Grandad always said dealing with little problems keptthem from becoming big ones.
When the oak glen came into view, he swerved toward theshining dome that glittered beckoningly. Almost overnight, their mystery treehad turned to gold. He’d bring a few leaves to show Mom. And hadn’t Tamimentioned something about needing an acorn?
Eyes on the glory of autumn overhead, Joe stuffed his handsin his pockets and slowly circled the tree. “Beautiful,” he decreed, though theword fell short.
Someone giggled.
Joe caught a flash of movement, but it vanished behind thetree.
Was someone there?
He hadn’t imagined it, but he couldn’t explain it. Maybe itwas something other people couldn’t see, like his air ribbons and gem snakes.Or maybe even a fairy. The laughter had been small and light, like a person’s.Asmallperson’s.
