Free A Snicker of Magic by Natalie Lloyd Page A

meanness’ sake.
    “My mama said that was an awful offense, to shoot a dove. I told her people did it and they’ve been doing it forever. She said one thousand people doing a thing didn’t make it right. She said doves were sweet birds. They’re small and gentle and they only wanna sing. She said that whenever you see a dove, that means hope’s coming down. Where’s the sport, my mother asked, in shooting a creature so sweet?”
    Oliver sighed. “Her words stuck to me, even though I pretended they didn’t. ’Cause I wasn’t just mean to doves. I was mean to people, too.”
    “But all of that changed!” Jonah interrupted. He pushed away his empty ice-cream glass. “You always spend too much time on the before parts, Oliver. Tell Felicity about the good. Tell her about the woman preacher who changed the course of your days.”
    A sad smile stretched over Oliver’s face. “Her name was Eldee Mae Cotton and she was, indeed, a traveling preacher. She drove a red pickup truck from Knoxville, Tennessee, all up through the Appalachian Mountains. When she came here, to Midnight Gulch, some folks got real backward over it. Law sakes — they said. A woman preacher! It ain’t right! ”
    “What’s wrong with being a woman preacher?” I said. “I think that’s awesome.”
    “So did I.” Oliver grinned. “Eventually.” He ate another spoonful of Blackberry Sunrise. “But honestly, the reason I first drove out to the fairgrounds to listen to her speak was to see if the crowd might start heckling and hollering and teasing her. And if they did, I figured I’d jump right in. Just to have something to do.”
    “But then,” Jonah butted in, rushing Oliver along.
    “But then I got flabbergasted when I saw her,” Oliver admitted, “and I couldn’t say a word. Firstly, I liked the way she talked — gentle as a songbird. But mostly, I got tongue-tied ’cause she was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.”
    Mama would have loved to paint the look on Oliver’s face right then. His eyes sparkled, sad and blue. His cheeks wrinkled up into a lonesome smile. If the midnight mooncould smile, it would look just the same as Oliver’s. Two words arched over his shiny head:
    Eldee Mae
    Her name looked as pretty as writing in a storybook. I watched the letters of her name curve and stretch, taking up all the space in the room before they faded away.
    “Sweet Eldee Mae,” Oliver sighed.
    The way he said her name made my heart cramp. In all my years of word collecting, I’ve learned this to be a tried and true fact: I can very often tell how much a person loves another person by the way they say their name. I think that’s one of the best feelings in the world, when you know your name is safe in another person’s mouth. When you know they’ll never shout it out like a cuss word, but say it or whisper it like a once-upon-a-time.
    Oliver sighed again and said, “I stood there and listened to Eldee Mae talk about heaven and hope and love. I’d never cared much for that sort of talk in a church house, but I could have listened to her for hours. I got so caught up in what she was saying that I didn’t even realize she’d come to stand right in front of me. She was a tiny thing. Probably no taller than you, Felicity, no bigger than a dove. I saw a feisty-spark in her eyes and I thought — This is it. This crazy preacher lady’s about to tell me what’s what….”
    “Did she?” I asked.
    “No, ma’am,” said Oliver. He leaned up on his forearms. I could see his tattoo clearly now: a dove with ink-black wings.

    “Eldee Mae reached out for me” — he tapped his chest — “pressed her hand right over my heart. And she said to me, ‘ God ain’t forgotten about you, Oliver Weatherly. He doesn’t forget anybody. Hope’s coming down .’ ”
    “What’d you say back?” I sighed.
    “I laughed in her face,” Oliver admitted. “But she didn’t look offended. She went back to preaching and I drove home as