Free Tea Cups & Tiger Claws by Timothy Patrick Page A

said “Billy” in a crude, shaky hand, maybe even in pencil. It didn’t have the carved edges. And the glossy paint looked uneven and blotchy, like the back of something not meant to be seen. Maybe it was the back. Maybe she’d find a different name painted on the front. She tiptoed up one wooden step, closed her eyes when it creaked, and then quickly climbed two more up to the porch where she reached up and pulled the placard off its hooks. Even before lowering it to eye level, the name jumped out at her. There, inside the fancy woodworked edges, written in same frilly purple script as the other ones, she saw, “Dorthea’s House.” Barely believing her eyes, she studied it closely.
    “Hello Dorthea.”
    She gasped and jumped. The placard slipped out of her hand. She bobbled it like a circus clown. It crashed loudly onto the wooden porch, bounced end over end down the steps, and came to rest on a stepping stone with her name facing up. Dorthea looked up and saw her sister, smirking, standing three feet away on the walkway in front of the porch steps. Behind her, Billy Newfield had just rounded the front of the first playhouse and was also approaching.
    “No, no…I’m not....” she stammered, mindful that a denial was in order, but not sure exactly what to deny.
    “Not what?” asked her sister. “Dorthea? Of course you are. I know it as sure as I know my own reflection.”
    “I…I accidentally took the wrong path…I have to get back,” said Dorthea, as she stepped to the left and went down the steps.
    The sister slid over and blocked her way. “That’s baloney,” she said. “You were spying and you know it.”
    Then Billy Newfield reached them, wearing a curious smile. They had her cornered. She stared at the ground. They stared at her until a voice drew away their attention. Dorthea also looked toward the voice and saw what she thought to be the other sister coming down into the clearing, except she had glasses…and didn’t look glamorous like the other one. The first sister yelled, “Look what I found, Abbey, our long lost sister, come to spy on us.”
    Abbey shrieked, dropped a picnic basket she’d been carrying, and dashed toward them. Dorthea tried to think and to breathe and to not look at Billy Newfield, who stared at her like she had cucumbers growing out of her nose. 
    When Abb ey arrived in a cloud of dust, she threw her arms around Dorthea and squeezed out what little breath she had left in her fearful body. Then she grabbed her by the upper arms, pushed back a bit, and started talking face to face. “I’m Abbey, but you knew that of course. I’ve always wanted to meet you, I mean besides that time in Tanner’s Mercantile—when I just stared like Dumb Dora—but mother could never arrange it and Sister was against it, so it just never happened, but now it is happening and I just can’t believe it.”
    And Dorthea had thought the first one acted like a ninny.
    Abbey looked at Dorthea with welled up tears before throwing herself back onto her neck.
    “Abb ey!” said Judith sternly, “She was spying on us like a thief, and who knows what else she had planned!”
    “Oh who cares , Judith!” said Abbey, breaking free from Dorthea. “You’d do the same if it were you and you know it! Besides I’ve been spying on her father for the last fifteen minutes so we’re all even.”
    “Father!” said Dorthea.
    “Yes, I saw him by the cellar, and he’s quite handsome. You should see him J. After all he is our father too, even though you don’t care to admit it.”
    “I have to go,” blurted Dorthea.
    “Oh please, not yet,” said Abbey, as she locked her arm with Dorthea’s.
    “Yes, please do stay, Dorthea,” said Judith, imitating her sister, and also locking arms with Dorthea. “Let us introduce our special friend to you. Billy Newfield, this is our dear sister, Dorthea. Her last name is Railer. It’s a name almost as famous as yours. Perhaps you’ve heard it before?”
    He