The Lark Taps Twice

Chapter 4: More Companions and Questions

beeEEEP beeEEEP BEEP

Miriam bolted upright in bed and fumbled for her alarming phone on the nightstand, her questing fingers bumping the noisy device right to the edge of the surface before gaining a good grip. She swiped right to turn off the annoying wake-up sounds and rolled her eyes at the time displayed: 4:45am. It wasn't all that early compared to when she got up on days she planned to spend in the field, but it seemed absurd to purposefully rise so early on a weekend.

After a quick cold shower to sharpen her senses, she tossed on the underthings, snug navy t-shirt, and faded hiphugger jeans she'd laid out the night before, and descended the stairs on tiptoe, not wanting to wake her mother. The note she wrote last night glowed on the dark kitchen table, and she hoped to keep the promise she left on that piece of paper, the promise to return by late Monday night with some souvenir to add to the collection of knick knacks in the china hutch.

"Were you really going to leave without a hug goodbye?"

Miriam nearly leapt out of her socks at that familiar voice, its dry tone indicating that, as usual, she already knew the answer to her question, and she wasn't happy about it.

"Yes, Mom. I am a grown woman now, and I pay most of the insurance and utilities, so I think I am allowed to come and go as I please." Miriam kept her tone playful, mindful of her mother's tender emotions. Ever since her heart attack the previous year, her inability to carry all of the household expenses on her personal income rubbed Miriam's mom the wrong way, and she hated being reminded of her weaknesses.

After two beats of silence, Miriam heard, "Be that as it may, I want to remedy the situation immediately."

One of the shadows lurking in the dim kitchen separated from the others and wrapped warm soft arms around Miriam's shoulders. Without hesitation, she returned the embrace, inhaling the familiar scent of vanilla and lilies, a perfume that never failed to take her back to the days her head barely reached this woman's belly button, the days when a kiss and a hug cured every hurt. She squeezed a little harder before stepping back.

"Thanks, Mari. Have a great day. See you tonight?"

"No, Mom. I'm meeting friends for a long weekend, since the institute is closed on Monday. I may not be back much before work on Tuesday, so let's plan to have our weekly dinner on Wednesday."

"All right, dear. Take this, at least." The handle of a large insulated tote was shoved into her hand; she clutched it out of instinct before it could slip from her fingers to the hardwood floor. The weight of the bag told her it contained more than just lunch; in fact, she would be surprised if it contained anything less than enough food for three or four meals, for three people. She grinned as she staggered out the door after pecking her mom on the cheek.

At least I'll be well fed, no matter the results of my weekend adventure, even if I have to sleep in the Jeep for a few nights.

So focused on maneuvering the bounty of food without tripping, Miriam did not notice her audience until the bag settled onto the gravel drive next to the Jeep with a soft crunch, and she had retrieved her keys from her jeans pocket.

tap tap

Fingers frozen around the bulky hunk of metal half impaling the driver's side door, her eyes shot to the source of the familiar rapping to be met with an equally familiar sight. Her annual visiting bird, who defied identification and rarely lingered long on his appointed calling day, perched on top of her side mirror, head tilted a bit to the left and beak smiling. His gaze met her own, just before he twisted his head to look at the door window and-

Tap Tap

"I guess you want to come along?" Miriam asked as she pressed the key into the lock and jerked it to the left to unlock the door. The lark's blue tipped silver crest bobbed up and down with enough enthusiasm to shake its whole body before it turned its head to the window-