Flight

Birdsong and wild strokes of white across the sky.

Miriam looked over the little girl’s shoulder, leaning over from where they both sat on the floor. “What are you adding to your picture, Anna?”

“Here’s our garden–someday–and this room is my art room. Out the window, you can see the garden.”

Anna pointed across to watercolor clouds of forest green. “And these are bushes, for birds to live in. See, they can fly from branch to branch.”

David, two years older and conscious of it, chimed in. “I’d make them fuller. To hide them from hawks.”

“Hawks?” Anna looked doubtful.

“You never know.” This time it was Will’s voice. He stretched to look, holding green and yellow crayons. In answer, she added strokes of midnight blue and citron, her bird sanctuary deeper and protected now. The youngest but most serious of the three, Will nodded with approval.

Turning, David showed Miriam his sketchbook. “This is my upstairs study. With a laboratory–and here’s my aquarium.” The page showed life-like lionfish, angelfish, and oversized algae in pastel. Sweeping his chalk-rainbowed fingers into the air, he announced, “Of course, the library will be bigger than my study–since it’ll be where we can all be, all the time. Or maybe in the greenhouse?”

Will leant over to study his brother’s dream house, dark eyes shining: “The library will be attached to the greenhouse!” Deftly, his small hands added quicksilver crayon to David’s library.

Anna came and stood by Will. “Wait, I know–the library is actually in the greenhouse!”

“Perfect!”

The three children put their sketches together. More than four solid walls: one wonky, impossibly glorious house came to life. Birds and fish, living leaf and golden childhood–shot through with ruby, violet, and electric blue. Miriam looked at it, and her weighted heart sang.

Hum of engines, not quite overhead.

“Let’s finish up, kids. Take your sketch pads–leave the paints and things, we’ll come back for them—we need to head over to the Red Cross. Hurry now.”

Opening the flap of their tent, Miriam looked up to see how many were coming this time.

“David, you take care of Will. Anna, you come with me. Right. Everyone ready?” They smiled at her and her breath caught. But only for a moment. After another glance skyward, she added, “You know what? Let’s race and see who wins!”

As they sped down the path–”ah! bright wings” the familiar words flew through her mind—the first bombs fell. They had all been told to memorize the way so they’d know it, even in the dark, even if time stopped. There was the scarlet symbol. The two boys ran ahead, hands clasped and legs flying. Her left hand safe and tight in Miriam’s, Anna kept pace. Flying, her right arm clutched her sketchbook, protecting their dreams from the hawks.