Free Where Yesterday Lives by Karen Kingsbury Page B

bounding up the hillside, her small hands cupping the body of a bumpy, brown toad.
    “Let’s find him a box.” Ellen motioned for Jane to follow and the two girls ran as fast as they could back to the house. Gasping for breath, Ellen ran inside and came back with a dilapidated cardboard container.
    “Should we put grass in it to keep him happy?” Jane’s innocent blue eyes gazed admirably at her older sister.
    “Okay.” Ellen helped Jane lower the toad into the box and grabbed fistfuls of grass. “I know he’s your toad, Jane. But let’s say we’re both his parents.”
    “All right. That way hell have two people who love him.”
    “Hey, what do you girls have there?” The voice was her father’s. Clear, strong, vibrantly alive. He walked toward them, his whole face smiling.
    “A toad!” they shouted in unison.
    Their father, a systems analyst and one of the most brilliant men to enter the booming new frontier of computers, stooped down and patted the homely creature.
    “A fine toad, I might add.” He glanced around. “What if we find another one? So that this one will have a friend.”
    Jane wrinkled her small nose. “No, Daddy. I think one’s enough.”
    He sat back on the grass and looked at Jane thoughtfully “Well, now, you and Ellen are sisters, but you’re friends, too, right?”
    Jane smiled at her big sister. “Right.”
    “Think how you’d feel if someone put you in a box and took you away from Ellen.”
    Jane’s face fell and she reached for Ellen’s hand. “I would be sad, Daddy.”
    “That’s how your toad feels.” He stood up and swung Ellen onto his shoulders, taking Jane’s hand in his. “Come on, now. Let’s go find ourselves another toad so that the little fellow won’t be so lonely.”
    The voices grew dim and Ellen opened her eyes slowly, staring vacantly into the sky, wishing she could remember whether they had ever found another toad. Instead, a different scene began taking shape.
    Kansas City, late-afternoon. Their mother was seven months pregnant with Amy and had taken Ellen, Jane, and Megan outside their rented townhouse to wait for their father’s return from work. Dark clouds filled the sky and there was lightening in the distance. It was tornado season, and the weather bureau had warned that conditions were right for a twister.
    Blissfully unaware of the weather, the girls giggled and sang silly songs, watching intently until finally they saw the green Ford sedan round the corner.
    “Daddy!” Their delighted squeals rang out, and they jumped up and down as their father parked the car andclimbed out. Dressed in a suit and tie, he bounded toward them, a blond, six-foot-two, former football player with bulky shoulders and arms of steel. He swept each of the three girls into his arms, one at a time, tossing them into the air and making them laugh so hard they could barely breathe.
    “I have an idea!” He grinned at his wife and leaned down to kiss her
    She smiled. “That’s what I love about you, John.”
    “What’s that?” He traced a finger along her cheek and stooped to tousle Jane’s hair.
    “Never a dull moment. I’m married to the chief memory maker in all of Missouri.”
    “Tell us, Daddy. Please! Tell us.” The girls jumped up and down, tugging on their father’s coat sleeves and waiting to hear his plan for the afternoon.
    “Let’s take a drive.” He pointed toward the menacing storm clouds. “Maybe we can get a better view of the storm.”
    Ellen’s face grew troubled. “Daddy, is it safe?”
    She was always the worried one, doubting whether the car was working properly and making sure the doors were locked. She was especially nervous about storms, even as a six-year-old. Her father looked sympathetically at her and tousled her hair.
    “Of course it’s safe. I wouldn’t do anything that might hurt my girls.”
    “It hurts to move away from our friends, Daddy,” Ellen said then.
    Her father frowned and lowered himself to his oldest