Read Blossoms Meet the Vulture Lady Online
Authors: Betsy Byars
Blossoms Meet the Vulture Lady (14 page)
“Let’s go,” Michael said.
Vern sensed from Michael’s tone of voice that he was not going to be put off. He got slowly to his feet. He brushed off the seat of his pants.
“Mom,” Michael yelled, “we’re going to Vern’s house.”
Michael’s mom came to the door. Michael’s family had only been living at the farm since June, and they had not met many neighbors. “Where do you live, Vern?” she asked.
“About a mile down that way.”
“Are your folks at home?”
“My mom and my granddad and my brother and sister are. My dad’s dead.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess it’ll be all right, Michael, but you be back by suppertime.”
“I will,” Michael called happily. He kicked the stand up on his bike. It was a ten-speed bike, the exact kind Vern would have chosen for himself.
Vern pulled his bike away from the tree trunk where it had been leaning. It was an old bike of his father’s, so old it did not have a kickstand. Kickstands probably hadn’t even been invented back then. It also had, to Vern’s shame, balloon tires.
With Michael in the lead, the two boys pedaled down the dusty drive. As Michael turned onto the main road, he stopped. “Who’s that?” he asked, astonishment in his voice and expression.
Vern stopped his bike beside Michael’s. He looked down the road where Michael was pointing.
He swallowed. It was Mad Mary, and she was picking up a dead animal from the road. She examined it and, satisfied, tucked it into her shoulder bag.
“Who is that?” Michael asked again.
“Mad Mary,” Vern answered.
Mad Mary had been a friend of his grandfather’s all his life. Now, ever since she had rescued Junior from the coyote trap, she had become a family friend. It was something else about his family he didn’t want Michael to know.
“She eats things she finds on the road,” Vern explained, careful not to reveal too much. “She lives in a cave.”
“Have you ever seen it?”
“From a distance. I didn’t want to go too close because of the vultures.”
“Vultures?”
“Yes. They roost over her cave.”
Michael looked at him with respect. “You’ll have to take me there sometime.” He hesitated. He nodded his head in Mary’s direction. “Is she dangerous?”
“She knows me. I better go first.”
“Thanks.”
With Vern in the lead, the boys pedaled down the road toward Mad Mary. She was on the left-hand side of the road now, striding along in her man’s boots. Her long, crook-necked cane matched her stride.
As they passed her Vern raised his hand. “Hi, Mary,” he said. Her head snapped up, and she looked at him with her bright, piercing eyes. “Afternoon,” she said.
Vern leaned over his handlebars and began to pedal faster. He was relieved she had answered, yet disappointed she had not spoken his name.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
copyright © 1986 by Betsy Byars
978-1-4804-0268-3
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