The Lark Taps Twice

Chapter 1: A Visitor From a Dream

Miriam stretched and yawned, rolling from her side to her back as she awoke. Sunlight tugged at her closed eyelids, and she twisted her face back toward the wall. It was Saturday, the one day of the week her alarm remained unset, and she was free to dream as long as she wished. She knew the sun only snuck through the gap between her black-out curtain and the wall for a few minutes just after sunrise this time of year, so she yanked her other pillow over her head and settled back into her dream.

In REM, her surroundings were familiar, but not. She had been working in the garden with her mother, their weekly custom, but rather than the usual rows of carrot and lettuce sprouts surrounded by a border of multicolored pansies and poppies, blush pink carrots dangled from tangles of sky blue vines above small amethyst bushes she somehow knew hid baby heads of juicy lettuce, growing under the ground. The surrounding flower beds held pansies and poppies, but their bright rainbow colors were watered down to nearly nothing, leaving them various shades of white with only the veins on each petal full of pastel beauty. Yet dream Miriam went about weeding and trimming and stopping to sniff the blossoms as though nothing looked out of the ordinary. She supposed she should be frightened, but the scene was so serene she hoped instead that the dream would never end.

tap tap

Dream Miriam lifted her head from the carrot vine in her hand to glance around for the source of the noise. Visitors were rare at their home, as her mother worked from home for a tech company, and she herself had few friends, preferring to study or read her current favorite novel to socializing with anyone outside of school hours. Was that a knock, or a woodpecker (if such existed in this place), or a man-made noise she could not identify? When the sound did not repeat, she shrugged it off and turned her attention back to the overgrown vine.

Tap Tap

This time the rapping was clear, sharp and close. It came from the direction of the house, but an intent glare at the building revealed no movement. A glance across the yard to where her mother knelt in the dirt to check the roots of a lettuce bush told her the odd noise only disturbed her; her gray hair fell forward to hide her face as she probed the bottom of the bush, her concentration unbroken.

TAP TAP

Something hard beat down on the top of the vine frame above her head, and her head snapped up to see the culprit. Less than a foot above her head perched a lark, pointed beak and feather crest easily identified from her casual birdwatching, but this was no lark she had ever seen in the nearby woods. Where typical larks had plumage in browns and grays with black beady eyes, this fellow was robed in silver feathers edged with royal blue; the silver feathers matched his beak, and eyes the color of pine needles in the spring studied her carefully. Before she could observe it further, the bird took flight and swooped toward her, so close to her head that his left wing hit her twice as he flew away.

tap tap

Miriam jerked awake and upright, breath panting and heart pounding. The dream had been so realistic, she swore she could still hear the bird tapping on the trellis in the not-right garden. Of course, that was impossible; nothing in that dream had been real, including the presence of her mother, who was serving out another five year sentence for criminal intimidation and possession of stolen goods.

It was a rare month or two these days when her mother was home and in her right mind so the two of them could tend the garden as they had when Miriam was small. She always wanted what was trendy but lacked the dedication or patience to work for the funds to purchase them legally, and her first arrest when Miriam was eight would be her shortest sentence. At least there was no need to call Aunt Ruby to come stay with her anymore; being a legal adult had its perks.