Waiting For Lily Bloom Read Free

Anya at church? The baby’s not comin’.”
    Oh dear. Lily’s chest tightened as she remembered her own mother…
    “After I heard about Anya, I forgot all about Bloom’s clothes. I need you to take his mendin’ back for me.”
    Lily gasped. Go all alone, in this wasteland, to a stranger’s house?
    Aunt Charity touched Lily’s cheek and frowned. “Now you just take that look off of your face. You’ll be fine. Listen close. Bloom lives right next door. It’s only a mile away, and our fields join. You travel straight down the road and his is the first house you come to. We passed it when we brought you from the train depot and I told you to look at the cow, remember?”
    She remembered. It wasn’t far at all.
    “That was Bloom’s cow. He won’t be there now. He’s havin’ lunch with the Floyds, like he always does on Sundays.”
    Good. She didn’t like meeting people. After church, she’d tugged on Aunt Charity’s sleeve and they’d walked straight back to the Model A. The only person she’d met was Reverend Cox, and after a brief shake of his hand, she pinned a smile on her face and exited.
    “You can go right in and set the mendin’ on his table. I do it all the time. Just drop it off and come right back. You’ll do fine. I’ve got to help Anya. Poor woman. I don’t know why Henry can’t…” Aunt Charity trailed off, mumbling something about selfish men and hungry children as she wrapped the clothes in a burlap sack and handed them to Lily. Then she placed her warm hands on Lily’s face. “I’m proud of you. Just you mind that.” Aunt Charity patted Lily’s cheeks, and then took the bottles off of the table. “I have no idea how long I’ll be, but if I’m not back by dark, just set out the cornbread and pour your uncle some milk, OK? Wash up his cup when he’s done.”
    Lily nodded.
    And then Aunt Charity was gone.
    Lily fingered the rough material in her hands. All she had to do was return some clothes. It was a simple task. What could go wrong?
     
    ****
     
    What a barren sight.
    Lily held a piece of cloth over her nose and mouth with one hand, and with the other she clutched the sack that held Bloom’s clothes. The soil under her feet was more compact than the fields to her right and left. Was this what the desert looked like? Some places were flat and some were raised, but dust was everywhere, blowing and swirling into fascinating little tunnels. Dirt devils, Uncle Ned called them.
    Such a strange place. Not sandy soil, but powdery-fine instead, clinging to one’s clothes and skin. Broken fence posts and barbed wire littered fields where nothing grew. Uncle Ned toiled in this? Why continue, if this was the result? Was he discouraged?
    She would be, if her work produced nothing.
    But he seemed calm and had a pleasant enough disposition. Much like Papa’s.
    Lily saw Bloom’s house in the distance. A windmill stood in the front yard, its blades spinning. A corral adjoined the farmhouse. The closer she got, the more it drew her. Heavens, there was a porch. Porches were so welcoming, even dusty ones. The roof was very steep, as if it boasted a loft. Bloom’s house had more windows than Uncle Ned’s. The paint looked fresh, if somewhat dusty, and all of the porch floorboards were intact.
    A rusted automobile languished beside the corral, its windows gone, the driver side door swinging on its hinge. Two large trees sheltered the house, casting it in shadow. A solitary cow watched her approach. It released a mournful bellow that caused Lily to smile.
    The unmistakable sound of a tinkling brook reached her ears. She walked past the corral and discovered a small stream. Water flowed as birds chirped, hopping and fluttering their wings.
    She returned to the farmhouse and stepped onto the porch. The wood beneath her feet protested as she crept to the front door. She placed her hand on the door knob and paused. Aunt Charity said he was gone, but what if he wasn’t? She breathed deeply,