An Uncommon Family Read Free Page A

unpolished, of course. But skill and craft could be taught. What was more important was the degree of passion and the level of personal expression, which was rare in a child so young.
    What Karla needed now was the willingness to learn and to practice, which Jonas believed she had. He had seen it in her eyes when she asked him if he would teach her. How long her endurance would last, that was another question. Children changed as they grew up; they developed other interests, they got bored. He had seen it happen many times. He remembered his own children, the years of paying for piano and violin lessons and just when they were getting good at it, they became interested in video games and dating.
    Jonas picked up his pipe, stuffed it with tobacco, and lit it. He closed his eyes, enjoying the earthy taste. He had stopped smoking cigarettes years before, but he treated himself to an occasional pipe. He stepped outside and stood on the rooftop patio, watching the last golden and orange hues of the setting sun fade into the approaching dark.
    He smiled. “Well, Karla, what do you say? I think it’s worth a try.”
     
     
    Chapter 4
     
    It was past noon and the sun was high in the sky. Karla and Maja were sitting at the edge of a pond near their home underneath a weeping willow. Its hanging branches formed a bell shape and the leaves skimmed the surface of the pond. The pond was one of the children’s favorite hangouts. When they were quiet—which wasn’t often—they could hear the rustling of leaves in the summer breeze, the quacking of ducks, and an occasional splash from a leaping fish. It smelled earthy, of algae and clay.
    Karla, with her elbows propped on her knees and her head cradled in her hands, was watching as a family of coots slowly emerged from behind a patch of reed. Mother, father, and a flock of chicks floated across the pond. As if on command, the adults dipped their heads into the water and the babies followed. They kept diving and coming up again until the two adult birds swam on and the little ones followed them single file.
    Karla watched them disappear behind a bend in the bank where the pond veered off to the left. She felt the familiar sting of homesickness. “A family,” she murmured, “a real family.” She turned to Maja. “Last night, I dreamt about Mama again. She was standing by my bed. When I woke up, she had disappeared.”
    Maja nodded and skimmed the water with her hand. “I know how we could see our mamas again,” she whispered.
    “How?” Karla sat up straight and brushed her shoulder-length black hair out of her face. She starred at Maja with her large dark eyes.
    Maja was seven, a year older than Karla. She was a thin girl with a skinny, boyish figure, short blond hair, and blue eyes. She scudded closer and gave Karla a conspiratorial smile. “Back home, my grandmother told me once that at night, when there’s a full moon and you’re on a mountain or high hill, a gate in the sky opens for a short time and you can see right into Heaven.” The girl nodded emphatically.
    “Have you ever seen it?” Karla asked, wrinkling her forehead.
    Maja shook her head. “No, but if you can see into Heaven, you can see the dead, the angels, can’t you?”
    Karla nodded. “I guess you could,” she whispered.
    “Perhaps we could see our mothers,” Maja said.
    Karla was quiet, thinking things over. She wrapped her arms around her tanned legs and glanced at the water. Maja’s pale calves dangled in the water.
    “I’ll have to ask Anna,” Karla said.
    “No. We can’t tell the adults.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because Grandma said that adults can’t see into Heaven.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because their hearts aren’t pure enough. Only young children can see Heaven.”
    “We can’t go alone in the middle of the night without telling the adults,” Karla said.
    “Of course we can. We just get up after they’ve gone to bed and sneak out of the house.” Maja scratched at a scab on her