Unclaimed Treasures Read Free Page B

dew, and Willa grinned suddenly with the feel of it. “There’s Bella-Marie,” spoke an ancient voice, “out for a breather.” Willa saw that the rags in Porky’s wheelbarrow were not rags. They were Old Pepper, Porky’s great-grandfather, a dried apple of a man—nearly one or two hundred years old, Willa thought. He had left his teeth at home, and his mouth fell into his face. He wore a rugby shirt, bright yellow and black, and he looked like an old bee.
    â€œWhy is Porky hissing at bushes?” Willa asked Horace, after he and Nicholas had pushed the cats inside the house. She sat beside him on the steps. “And who is Bella-Marie?”
    â€œBella is Old Pepper’s pet parrot,” whispered Horace. “And hissing attracts birds. Didn’t you know that?”
    â€œOf course I knew that,” said Willa grumpily, though she had no idea that hissing attracted anything.
    Old Pepper wore all his clothes today. Old Pepper was forgetful and independent and forgiven for all of it. Sometimes he forgot his clothes, though he never wandered naked from his own backyard. He went birding there “starkers,” as Horace put it, blending in well with the plants and bushes. “Looking lots like Adam in the first garden, even though he has a mustache and wears half glasses,” said Horace. “Innocent, like a naked baby at the beach.”
    Old Pepper peered up into the apple tree as Porky hissed.
    â€œAha!” he croaked. “I see you, Bella!”
    There was a sudden flapping of bright wings high in the tree. “Bug off!” screeched Bella. “Bella’s on holiday!”
    â€œHoliday my foot come home I’ve got mangoes,” exclaimed Old Pepper, who often spoke in run-on sentences. He struggled out of the wheelbarrow, arms flailing. Porky grabbed Old Pepper as he weaved, while Bella shrieked and glared at them from above. The cats were fierce against the kitchen window, tails whipping, eyes wild.
    Willa, Horace, and Nicholas ducked under the tree and looked up. Bella peered down at them, turning her head from side to side as she moved nervously sideways on her branch.
    â€œHoliday no mangoes!” she shrieked.
    Old Pepper staggered under the tree, nearly stepping on Willa’s bare foot. He shook his fist. “Be nice!” he yelled. The effort of shouting and shaking his fist almost tipped him over, but Porky staunchly kept him upright. “Be nice,” said Old Pepper, more softly.
    â€œBe nice how do I love thee let me count the ways,” answered Bella.
    Horace, Nicholas, and Willa burst into laughter, and Bella laughed back at them, flying down to a lower branch. She was a beautiful bird, mostly red with a few touches of green and yellow, almost too bright for the tree.
    Nicholas swung easily to the first branch of the tree. “I’ll climb up,” he called to Old Pepper. “Maybe that will get her down.”
    â€œNo, no, no, no, no” came a shout from the back door. It was Aunt Crystal, waving her hands in the air. “That tree is not for climbing, Nicholas. It is old and dying.”
    â€œNever,” added Aunt Lulu, looking over Aunt Crystal’s head. “Never. Its limbs are most dead. It is not a trustworthy tree.”
    â€œCrazy,” muttered Old Pepper, glaring at Aunt Lulu. “My limbs are old and most dead, too. But I am as trustworthy as I ever was.”
    â€œNot trustworthy, not trustworthy,” repeated Aunt Crystal, shaking her head with her hands over her ears.
    â€œCrazy, never, no,” chanted Bella from the tree.
    Aunt Lulu held up a warning finger. “Never,” she said sternly, “never climb that tree.” And then she and Aunt Crystal disappeared into the house again.
    There was a silence. Willa smiled at Old Pepper and looked up.
    â€œBeautiful Bella,” she called softly. “Come down, beautiful Bella.”
    Bella stared at Willa for