Distant Waves Read Online Free PDF Page A

middle for fear that they would fall off the sides during the night.
    Silver light from a bright full moon streamed in the curtainless window. That in combination with the loud chirping of crickets kept Mimi and me awake. Or perhaps it was simply that we were so excited about everything that had happened.
    We had spent the day trailing Mother as Aunty Lily introduced us to so many people that they became a blur of faces. We went into storefronts and private parlors, each the scene of some séance, mystical reading, or strange bridge between the living and the dead. It was impressed upon us that we were not to call them the dead. No one was truly dead, at least not in Spirit Vale; they had passed  on, gone over, were living elsewhere -- and were still eminently reachable.
    Despite my high-strung state, slowly I began to drift. Glancing at Mimi, I saw that she was still wide-awake, twirling and untwirling one long curl with so much energy I was reminded of a woman knitting.
    As I replayed the remarkable events of the previous two days, I thought of Tesla. Strangely enough, I felt that I missed him.
    "Do you think Tesla misses us right now?" I asked Mimi.
    "He doesn't even know us," she said to me. "He knows us," I disagreed. "I miss Father," she said softly.
    "Me, too," I said, resting my head on her shoulder. The truth, though, which I didn't dare tell her, was that I was already beginning to forget what Father had looked like. I recalled his outline: tall with broad shoulders and dark hair. And I remembered kind eyes. But the rest of him was starting to fade away.
    It was easier to picture Tesla. In fact, the image I held of him was extremely vivid, and it somehow merged with the recollection I had of Father. This refreshed image comforted me, for it meant somehow that I wasn't forgetting Father, after all. I know it might sound odd, but I don't believe such peculiar thinking is really unusual in small children.
    "Tesla misses us," I said earnestly. Then I yawned. "I like this place," I added sleepily. "Do you?"
    "It will do, I suppose," Mimi replied with a reserved air.
    "It was lucky Mother saw Hiram's ghost," I said.
    "I could have seen Hiram's ghost, too," Mimi said.
    I was suddenly up on my elbow. "Did you see him? I tried to, but I couldn't."
    "No, but I could have pretended to see him, just like Mother did."
    "What?"
    Mimi turned on her side so that we faced each other. Bending her head, she dropped her voice. "The top letter in that bundle on the table was addressed to Mrs. Hiram Miller, widow. It was from the U.S. government, veteran affairs, but it was postmarked from Cuba. On the bottom of the envelope was a typed line about widow's benefit forms being enclosed."
    "I don't understand," I said.
    "Mother knew Aunty Lily's husband was dead because it said she was a widow right on the envelope."
    "How did she know where he was when he died?" I challenged.
    "That's where the war that's on now is taking place. Grandmother Taylor told me about it. It started last spring and is almost over now. That's how Mother guessed where Hiram was and when he died."
    "She lied to Aunty Lily?" Mimi nodded sullenly.
    Mimi had been reading since she was four and was already starting to teach me, so I trusted that she had really seen what she said she did. But I was not as accepting of the conclusion she'd drawn.
    "She didn't see the letter," I protested. Mother wouldn't do such a thing.
    "She saw it," Mimi insisted.
    "No, she didn't," I stated firmly.
    "You're just a little girl," Mimi said offhandedly, as though my opinion was of no importance to her. She had made up her mind.
    I flipped over onto my other side, facing away from her. Mimi had annoyed me. I wasn't ready to give up my unqualified faith in Mother. Not just then, at any rate.
    ***
    Chapter 6
    SPIRIT VALE, NEW YORK, 1898-1911
    W ithin a day of arriving in Spirit Vale, Mother let it be known she had been taught by the famous Maggie Fox, and -- coupled with Aunty Lily's often