Page 33 of Tamiko and the Two Janitors
Taking care to step softly, Joe edged closer, thinking tocome up behind whatever was with him in the glen. His first glimpse took himcompletely aback. A child sat among the roots of the tree, a little girl withher knees pulled up to her chin.
“Hello there, little one,” he called softly.
“Sister?” she asked.
“I’m not a sister, but I have a sister.” He took a few moresteps. “Are you lost?”
She smiled, and he found himself smiling back.
Part of his mind was trying to reason out the presence of achild in the middle of their orchard. They were miles from any other house, andthe migrant workers had finished with this section more than a week ago. It wastoo early for customers or tour groups to arrive. So where had she come from?And why wasn’t she wearing any clothes?
Shedding his jacket, he swung it around her thin shoulders.She was small, no bigger than a kindergartener, and her wide eyes held no traceof worry or fear. In fact, she lifted her arms in a silent plea.
He picked her up, tucking his jacket more snugly around herwhile trying to make sense of what he was seeing. This had to be a Rivvenchild. Her skin was unusually pale, and her thickly-lashed eyes were darkgreen. Her ears came to points, but it was her hair that threw him for a loop.Well, not hair, really. Joe tentatively touched the golden leaves that rustledsoftly on her head. Delicate as tissue and definitely attached, the leaves weregrowing on her head just as surely as they grew on their mystery tree.
“Are your mommy and daddy close by?”
Her brow puckered in confusion. “Sister?”
“Were you with your sister?” Joe shook his head. “Do youhave a name, chick-a-biddie?”
She giggled and rested her head on his shoulder.
Now what? He’d never been very good with kids in the firstplace, and he was feeling more than a little panicky. This probably lookedreally bad. What if the girl’s parents accused him of kidnapping … or worse?Could he start an international incident?
“Maybe we should go to my house. Would you like to meet mymom and dad?”
The girl threw her arms around his neck and cooed,“Joey-boy!”
That’s what Grandad used to call him, but how would she knowthat? He started toward home with long strides. “That’s right. I’m Joe. What’syour name?”
“Chick-a-biddie!”
He was definitely out of his depth. With luck, Tami wasstill home. She’d learned about Rivven at her conference, and she was greatwith kids. As he hurried along, she craned her neck, looking back the waythey’d come.
“Where are we going?” she asked worriedly.
“To see my sister.”
“Sister?”
“Yes, she’s my twin.” He offered a tentative smile. “You’lllove Tami, and she’ll love you.”
The girl nodded and nestled down in his arms, an expressionof serene trust on her dainty features. She startled him by reaching up totouch his cheek. “Joe?”
“Yeah?”
“Hurry.”
Tami turned at the sound of her nameand the thud of boots up the porch steps. Her brother rushed into the kitchen,eyes wide and breath coming in gasps. “You’re still here.”
“Just on my way out.” She lifted her car keys.
To her dismay, Joe sank to his knees on the floor. That’swhen she noticed a pair of eyes peeping at her from the bundle in his arms.
“I found a girl,” Joe said, all in a rush. “I think she’s …well, with the leaves and her skin. People don’t usually have woodgrain, youknow?”
Tami set down her keys, travel mug, and lunch bag. Joe wasbabbling, and Joe didn’t babble. Usually he was the one to calm her down whensomething had her riled.
