Dandelions in Paradise Read online

"Just open it up!" Silas said with a hint of impatience.

  "Now, Sy," Sallie scolded him gently. "Best to tell her before she opens it."

  "I suppose so," Silas mumbled.

  "A jump box is a little collection of things to help you jump start your memories of your previous lives. Except for the one you just lived, 'cause you have those memories already." Silas smiled warmly. "You'll get your memories intact eventually, but a jump box helps you start remembering a little more quick-like."

  "Who selects the things in the box?" I asked.

  "You do," she said. "During each of your eternities you get to choose one little thing from your previous life, and then it's waiting for you in your jump box next time you die."

  "Well," Silas corrected her. "Not always actually waiting for you."

  "That's true," Sallie agreed. "Usually takes a few weeks. Remember that one little newbie we had, Sy? Took his jump box three months to get here."

  "I remember," Silas frowned. "Most annoying newbie I ever had. Heavens, he asked the questions. Morning to night, wouldn't shut up. Couldn't remember a blessed thing about his other lives. Liked to drove me to distraction!"

  "Dear," Sallie said. "I think we're getting a little off course."

  "Sorry," Silas muttered. "But, my goodness, he was irritating!"

  "So the things in this box," I asked, "are things I've chosen from my previous lives?"

  "Except your most recent life."

  "I see."

  "And no more than one thing, plus it's got to fit in the box. Remember that one fellow over in Klankerton, Sallie?"

  Sallie chuckled. "Henri," she remembered with a smile. "Wanted to have his pool table put into his box. Said it was his lucky table."

  "Silly fool," Silas said. "Didn't he realize how heavy slate is?"

  "Well," Sallie added, "and the sheer bulk of it."

  "So he didn't get his pool table?"

  "No," Silas and Sallie chimed together.

  "He selected his stick instead. You know, the kind that screws apart. That seemed to make him happy."

  "Silly fool," Silas snarled under his breath.

  "Well, enough of that," Sallie sang. "Let's see what you've selected, Honey!"

  "The box looks familiar somehow," I said, stroking the top of it. It was simple, made of walnut. The edges were sanded down, and the hardware was brass. A small peanut was etched in the middle.

  "You haven't seen this particular box before, Sweetie," Sallie said. "This box is new. Oh, that's right. You don't remember yet. Your last eternity, your box fell off a shelf, the hinge got bent and one of the boards was knocked apart. Got banged up pretty bad."

  "But it sure does look familiar," I repeated.

  "Well," Sallie smiled, and her eyes gleamed as she spoke. "I think you're familiar with the woodworker. He made you a few things in your last life."

  I stared at the box, touched its corners, ran my fingers slowly across the peanut. I looked back up at Sallie.

  "Pop built this box?"

  A tear slipped out of the corner of Sallie's right eye, and even Silas' eyes were misty. He sniffed suddenly, pulled out his handkerchief, and murmured, "Cursed pollen!"

  I lifted the box as gently, almost reverently, as I could. Pop had had some small brass name plates engraved, and for years before he died he screwed the little plates onto each of the items he made. When I had raised the box just over my eyes, I tilted it a little to the side and read out loud, Made by Craig Leonard

  A second plate, slightly smaller, was screwed in just below the first one. It said "For Our Little Peanut."

  I set the box back on the table.

  Silas blew his nose, and Sallie wiped her cheek with her apron. We sat silently for a short while.

  "Well," I smiled at them, "Let's see what we've got here." I opened the lid as one opens a newly discovered treasure chest.

  At first glance, the contents seemed casual, ordinary. No gold coins, no rubies, no silver cups.

  "So, what'cha got there?" Silas and Sallie both leaned toward the box at the same time, peering in.

  "Well," I picked up a silk scarf, carefully folded, and shook it out. It had an intricate Japanese design on it.

  "Oh, now, that's just lovely!" Sallie said, and I handed it to her. "Must be from when you were a Samurai, huh?"

  "I don't know," I said. "Don't remember."

  "It'll take a few days to start kicking in," Silas assured me. "Don't rush it. You newbies! Always so impatient!" Sallie and I smiled at each other.

  "What else?" Sallie asked me.

  "Well, here's a little, I don't know what this is." I turned it over in my hands a couple times."

  "Here," Sallie reached for it, flipped it over once, and said, "Oh, that's an amulet. Common in Africa."

  "Let me see," Silas reached over. "Uh huh. Ivory carved amulet. Nice work, too."

  In all, there were seven items in my jump box. None of them flickered even a hint of memory for me, but the last thing I picked up intrigued me.

  "What's this?" I asked. "Looks like some kind of a flute."

  It was obviously handmade, and very rustic. It looked like cedar wood, but I wasn't sure. It had five holes bored on one side. The totem, attached at one end with a little slit near its base, was so poorly carved I couldn't make out what kind of animal it was supposed to be. A small white feather with a dark brown tip hung by a piece of rawhide. "What are these?" I pointed to several small indentions and showed Sallie.

  Sally cocked her head a little, and said, "Looks like teeth marks. What do you think, Sy?"

  Silas adjusted his bifocals, studied the flute, and said, "Uh huh. Teeth marks. Anyway," he added with a grin, "that's just about the ugliest thing I've ever seen."

  "Play us a little tune," Sallie said, and Silas smiled warmly.

  "I don't know how to play this!" I protested.

  "Oh," Silas said, "Just blow. Put it in your mouth and blow." He giggled and added, "At least as long as you're blowing the flute you won't be able to ask any questions!" He shot a quick wink at Sallie, and they both grinned.

  "Well," I sighed. "Just remember. Ya'll asked for it!"

  I stood up, adjusted my shoulders a little, and blew.

  A hideous screech pierced the air, and I stopped abruptly.

  "See?" I smiled awkwardly. "Told you I didn't know how to play this thing."

  "Try just breathing into it very, very gently," Sallie suggested. "Just put your lips up against it, and barely breathe."

  "Fine," I shrugged. "If it will please you." She winked at me and nodded. I glanced at Silas, and he added softly, "Go on, little Newbie."

  I raised the flute to my lips, closed my eyes, inhaled, covered all five holes with my fingers, and exhaled slowly, very slowly. A deep, rich, sweet tone floated from the flute, and without thinking, I kept blowing. I inhaled, exhaled, wriggled my fingers, and blew very softly.

  The music was intoxicating, addicting. I could hardly quit. For what seemed like a long, long time I kept blowing, and the music filled the afternoon, and for a moment it seemed that all eternity paused.

  I opened my eyes and lowered the flute. I stared at it in my hands, then looked at Sallie, over at Silas, back at Sallie.

  "What in the world was that?" I asked.

  "That was you, Sweetie," Sallie said. "Lovely.

  Very, very lovely." Silas was grinning, and he shook his head in agreement.

  "Lovely," he repeated her words. "Very, very lovely."

  At supper that evening, I said, "You know, I don't mean to sound proud, but honest to God, that was some of the most beautiful music I think I've ever heard."

  "Ain't proud to acknowledge what's in you," Sallie said, and Silas, chewing a bite of catfish, nodded his agreement.

  "Besides," Sallie added, reaching for another biscuit, "the most beautiful things in life, and eternity, come from deep within you."

  "And the ugliest, too," Silas mumbled. Sallie slapped his hand playfully, and he winked at me. />
  "Hand me some of them butter beans, Newbie," he said.

  Late that night, long after Silas and Sallie had gone to bed, I got up and looked out the window. There was no moon, and it was very dark outside. I reached down on the table by my bed, felt for the flute, picked it up like the treasure it was, and walked out to the walnut tree.

  I played until dawn was barely licking the eastern edge of the meadow of bluebonnets.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN