Kathleen Creighton - One Summer’s Knight

Then David, with a faith born of innocence, said, “Hey, Beatle, did you find her? Huh? Find Helen, Beatle-where’s -Helen? Come on-let’s go find Helen.” And he turned the knob and opened the door. Beatle scampered into the room. Riley and Summer exchanged a look, then followed.

It was very warm in the room. Riley knew it could get downright hot in those south-facing rooms in the summertime, in spite of air-conditioning and the huge magnolia trees that had been planted on that side of the house long ago to provide shade for the tall casement windows. It was precisely why Riley had given his guests quarters on the north side, though the south rooms were larger and certainly brighter.

While Riley stood frowning in the doorway, thinking about that, Summer walked on into the room, calling, “Helen? Honey, are you in here?” She opened a wardrobe door. David dropped to his hands and knees and peered under the canopy bed.

Meanwhile, the dog Beatle hesitated only long enough to give the rug a sniff, then scampered over to the window, put her paws up on the sill and uttered that same small but decisive “Wuf.”

It was then that Riley realized the window was open. “The balcony,” he said, and started forward.

Summer, too, was moving toward the window, moving like a sleepwalker. “Helen? Honey…?” She put her hand on the window casing and leaned out.

Riley’s house had been built in the sumptuous twenties, in a Southern Gothic style more typical of Savannah than Charleston. All the upstairs windows had narrow balconies trimmed with wrought iron, meant more for decoration than actual use. Still, he thought, a child might easily hide on one, crouched below the level of the windowsill…

Summer was looking down, up, all around. But it was obvious the balcony was not occupied. She stepped onto it and peered over the railing. She looked down…and Riley could feel his heart trying to bang its way out of his chest. But there was no scream of horror and grief, and moving up behind her, he could feel her body relax slightly.

And then…go absolutely rigid. In a spasmlike reflex her hands clutched the railing, so hard the knuckles went white, and she cried out, “Oh, my God…”

Never, in all his life, had Riley heard such terror in a human voice. It had to be the worst sound he had ever heard. He went icy inside as his mind struggled to form the terrible question. But by then Summer had turned blindly into him and was hiding her face against his chest. And without thought he folded his arms around her and held her tightly while his eyes searched for what she’d already seen that had frightened her so.

Leaves . All he could see was those damned leathery, greeny-bronze magnolia leaves. The huge tree filled the window, its branches in some places extending over the balcony railing to scrape against the walls of the house. Oh, hell-and the gardener had just mentioned something to him last spring, he remembered now, about it being time to trim those back. He’d been in the middle of a tricky court case and hadn’t wanted to be bothered just then with calling the tree people. And had apparently forgotten about it. Damn .

He saw it now-splashes of hot pink and lemon-yellow, colors Mother Nature never put in a magnolia tree. He even remembered the outfit-one of the ones he’d bought-pink shorts with a pattern of tiny cartoon characters, Disney, he thought, and a yellow sun top with a large version of the same characters on the front.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured hoarsely, stroking Summer’s hair. He could feel her trembling. “She’s all right. I can see her. She’s all right.”

She jerked away from him with a loud sniff. “She’s not making any noise,” she said in a strained voice as she leaned over the balcony railing, trying to see through the leaves. As if, he thought, she were clenching her teeth together to keep them from chattering. “That’s not Helen. You don’t know-”

He gave a short, ironic laugh. “I think she’s too scared to move. Talk to her-keep her calm. Tell her we’re gonna get her down, okay?” But Lord in heaven, how?

Summer called in a high, thin voice, “Helen? Mommy’s here, honey…Mommy’s here. Are you okay? Answer me, sweetheart.” For a moment, it seemed, they all stopped breathing. And then they heard it-a barely audible whimper. Riley saw Summer close her eyes. Her face was bleached bone-white and shiny with sweat, as if she were about one deep breath away from fainting, but her voice sounded calm enough. Only he would hear the knife edge of panic in it as she called, “Okay, that’s my girl. You just hang on tight, now, okay? Don’t try to move. We’re coming…”

Riley put a hand on her arm, then gripped it tightly. “Not this way, we’re not,” he said in a tight undertone. “That branch will never take the weight.”

“But I can see her-”

“So can I.” The kid was stretched out flat on her stomach with her bottom toward the window, her head toward the trunk, arms and legs clamped tightly around the limb. “She’s too far out to reach from here. We’ll have to get her from below.”

“If she falls…” Summer’s face was a mask of terror.

“She’s not going to fall.” And if she did- Dear God, if she did?- he was never going to forgive himself. Never. He leaned over the railing and looked down. Lord, it was a long way down. And the kid was so small… He drew a deep breath. “There’s a limb below this one. Big enough to stand on. If I can climb up to it-”

She threw him a wild look, which he imagined was about equal parts surprise and doubt. “Are you sure you… I mean, maybe I should-”

Well, he thought, who could blame her? Climbing trees didn’t exactly fit the image he worked so hard to build for himself. Would she even believe him, he wondered, if he told her there’d been times he’d slept in one?

“Hey,” he said in a cracking voice, “you may find this hard to believe, but I have climbed a tree or two.” His smile felt cramped.

It was the first time she’d ever seen that smile, Summer realized; a dark, off-center smile, with haunted, remembering eyes. Something about it shook her even then, a small earthquake that rocked the underpinnings of her most basic conceptions of the man, and she filed it away for pondering over…later.

“There’s a ladder,” said David. Summer and Riley both turned to look at him. He nodded, eyes round with eagerness and bright with fear. “I saw it. Over behind the garage. It’s a big one, too.”

Summer clamped a hand to her mouth, stifling a small whimper. Riley touched her arm and said in a low voice, “Stay here-keep her calm. Young man-” he put his hand on David’s shoulder as he passed him “-you come with me. Show me where you saw this ladder.”

“Come on!” David was so wired he seemed about to jump out of his socks. He’d be feeling it, too, Summer realized as she watched them go off together, Riley’s hand on the back of David’s neck seemingly all that held him to the ground. He’d feel the guilt, the sense of responsibility for this. Her heart ached for him. If anything happens to his sister, he’s going to blame himself-

Nothing is going to happen. She’s going to be all right. She has to be all right.

Somewhere way off in the distance, thunder grumbled. A breeze sprang up, making the magnolia’s leaves rustle with a dry, crackly sound. Helen whimpered and uttered a thin, terror-filled cry. “Mommy!”

Summer spun back to the railing. “Helen, it’s okay-I’m right here. Mr. Riley’s gone to get a ladder, okay? We’re gonna have you down in just a minute-you just stay right where you are and hold on tight, you hear me? Hey, I know what-let’s sing a song. Okay? You sing, too, sweetie. Winnie the Pooh, Winnie the Pooh…”