Free Saving Cicadas by Nicole Seitz Page B

money? And I thought you hated flying.” Grandma Mona was in the front seat because she’d been complaining about being carsick in the back. Poppy was right next to me in the middle of the backseat. He was holding both mine and Rainey’s hands, the one without the bug in it.
    â€œMama, I see airplane!” Rainey’s eyes were peering up, her smile wide.
    â€œYes, honey, see that? There’s lots of airplanes over there.”
    â€œWe’re really flying somewhere?” I’d never been on an airplane. The thought of being so high in the air, so small, just a speck in the sky, both excited and scared me.
    â€œI gonna fly!” Rainey squealed.
    â€œBetter than that,” she said. We pulled into a big grassy area, at least two football fields away from a fleet of planes lined up like soldiers. Mama stopped the car in the shade of big tree, took a deep breath, and said, “When I was a little girl, Daddy used to bring me to the airport whenever it was just the two of us. Maybe just a handful of times, but I remember them.”
    â€œI do, too, sweetie,” said Poppy. “Oh, what a treat. What a great idea.”
    â€œWe’d do this,” said Mama. She turned off the car and got out, then opened Rainey’s door and unbuckled her. “Come on out, Rain.”
    Poppy followed, then me, and we four stood in front of the old Crown Vic, watching as an airplane took to the air. Whoooooooosh . . . Our heads tilted to follow it as it flew right over.
    â€œWhat in the world are we doing?” said Grandma Mona, refusing to get out of the car. She sat there, eyes sharp, cheeks shriveled up like an apple doll.
    Climbing on top of the hood of the car like four big kids, my mother, my sister, my grandfather, and I lay flat and watched the clouds move through the big blue sky. I could feel the hardness of the car in my back and sense my mother’s presence beside me. I pictured Poppy lying on the other side of her, the way they used to when she was little, and it made me so happy. Knowing Mama had left home when she was younger than Rainey and how she didn’t see her parents for a very long time—having everybody all together again, in a way, made this trip all worth it. No matter what happened. Even if we never found my daddy again.
    â€œLook, the angel,” said Rainey, arm outstretched and pointing to a cloud with two wings flowing out the sides.
    â€œSure is,” said Mama.
    â€œAnd that’s a flower,” I said. “See the petals? Right there. To the left of the angel.”
    â€œOh, yeah. I see,” said Rainey.
    For the first time since we left our house yesterday, I was feeling like I could finally take a breath.
    â€œI gonna pick flowers,” said Rainey. “Get some for buggy.” She sat up and slipped off the hood.
    â€œI’ll go with her,” Poppy said. Mama and I propped ourselves on our elbows, watching Rainey hunched over in a field of dandelions. Poppy handed one to her, she made a wish, then blew it and stared at the puffy parts floating away on the wind. Then again and again. Poppy handed her a flower, and Rainey wished on it. It was Rainey’s faith in action. So simple. Just taking things as they come. Then, believe it or not, she set her beloved cicada free. She watched it fly about three feet, then it disappeared into the grass. Poppy was patting her on the back, assuring her it was the best thing for it to be earthbound again, but Rainey decided to search and save it again.
    Suddenly, I felt the weight of all this, remembering the baby growing as we lay here, slowly but surely. A baby. Mama was having a baby.
    â€œMama?”
    â€œMmmmm . . . this feels good,” she said, letting a band of sunshine cross her eyes.
    I remembered that boy and his parents at Lake Tomahawk, and all a sudden, there was something I really had to talk about. “Did you . . . did you ever think about adoption . . . a