by Donna Poole
“Sissy, wake up!” Debby shook Molly’s shoulder. “It’s a homemade blackberry pie kind of day!”
Molly groaned and pulled her sheet over her head. “What time is it? And why are you whispering?”
“I don’t know the time, but the sun is up. I’m whispering because I want to surprise Ma. Let’s go pick blackberries so she can bake us a pie! But we’re going to have to sneak out, because she’s already in the kitchen. I smell waffles.”
Molly could smell them too. Her stomach rumbled. “Maybe we could go berry picking after breakfast?”
Debby shook her head. “It will be way harder to get out then without Ma seeing us. Hurry! You know how hot it gets outside this time of year!”
“What if Ma doesn’t know how to make blackberry pie?”
“I’m pretty sure all mothers know how. Our other mom made delicious ones.” She sniffed and swiped a hand across her eyes.
Molly hated to see her sister upset. She jumped out of bed but hesitated in front of her closet.
“Just grab a pair of jeans and a t-shirt,” Debby hissed. “If you don’t hurry up, it’s going to be lunch time before we get there!”
“What will we do for lunch?” Molly asked. “Our other mom always packed us one.”
“Don’t lets keep talking about our other mom. We’ll both cry. We can eat berries for lunch!”
Molly nodded. “Okay. You go wake up Jennie, and I’ll get dressed.”
Debbie returned without Jennie. “I couldn’t wake her. She’s really sleeping. It’s probably better this way. She doesn’t like berry picking. She’s so little, and her legs are too short, and she get sunburned, and…why are you wearing that? You can’t pick berries in that!”
Molly patted her blue and white checked sundress. “I’m wearing it. And you better be quiet, or Ma is going to hear you, and we won’t be going berry picking! I hope Jennie won’t feel bad. We should at least leave her a note.”
“Do you think I’m a total nincompoop? I left a note. Now, let’s go! And don’t complain to me when your legs get all scratched and sunburned.”
“I won’t.” Molly flounced ahead of her, saying, “Some of us like to look nice. I bet you didn’t even brush your teeth.”
Debbie didn’t say anything, not because she’d decided to quit arguing, but because she had, indeed, forgotten to brush her teeth. She ran her tongue over them and shrugged. Oh well. I’m missing two on the top and two on the bottom. Maybe the rest of them won’t stink too bad. It’s only me and Molly anyway.
The two of them slipped silently out the door into the sunny summer morning while Ma was bent over the waffle iron. Once outside, they giggled like only sisters heading on an adventure can do. They trudged down the town sidewalks until they came to open country. They were too tired to talk much; Jennie wasn’t the only sister with short legs.
Molly broke the silence. “Are you sure we’re going the right way, Debby? I don’t remember it taking this long before.”
“It didn’t used to take this long because our old house was closer to the hills.” She heard sniffles and turned to look at her sister. Sure enough, Molly was crying.
“I know you miss our old house, and Mom and Dad, and life like it used to be, Molly. I do too. I don’t like our new place very much. But we have lots to be thankful for in our new house.”
Molly sniffed and rubbed her eyes. “I am thankful. But you know our new Ma won’t make blackberry pie as good as Mom’s. And she doesn’t love us as much as Mom did either. You know it’s true, Debby!”
Debby nodded. “I know. But I feel sorry for her. She does have an awful lot of kids to take care of. and some of them aren’t too nice. Billy took my oatmeal at breakfast yesterday and ate it. I was hungry.”
“I’m sorry, Sissy. I wish you’d told me. I would have given you half of mine.”
“I know you would. Do you think one blackberry pie will be enough for all of us?”
Debby looked worried. “I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe we’ll find enough berries for a lot of pies. These baskets I found will hold lots!”
“Where did you find them?”
“In the kitchen before Ma got in there. They had knives and forks in them. I dumped out the silverware and borrowed the baskets.”
Molly giggled. “Good thing you just borrowed them. Our first mom wouldn’t like it if you stole something.”
By the time they climbed the foothills and found a blackberry patch the cool morning had turned hot. Both sisters took off their matching sweaters, the ones that had patches embroidered with “Sweet Water Home.” They tied them around their waists and got busy picking, ignoring the scratches made by thorns, and keeping a wary eye out for snakes who like to hide there. When small rodents and birds come to snack on the berries, they become snacks themselves for the snakes.
“Yikes,” Debby screamed as a snake slithered over her hand. “Good thing Jennie isn’t here. She’d want to head home right now. I miss her though.”
“I do too. She’s been so tired all the time lately and hasn’t wanted to do anything. She’s younger than we are. It doesn’t seem like she should be so tired. You don’t think she’s sick, do you?”
Debby thought for a minute then shook her head. “I think if she was sick Ma would tell the doctor when he comes to the home once a week. Speaking of tired, I’m exhausted. How about you?”
“Our baskets aren’t even half full,” Molly objected. “We can’t go back already.”
“We could eat some berries for lunch and then nap in that grass.”
“We should sleep one at a time. Someone has to look out for bears. Remember our other mom always told us to do that.”
“Okay. You sleep first, and then I’ll wake you up and I’ll sleep. I’m so tired from climbing the hill and picking the berries. My left arm hurts, and that’s funny, because I picked berries with my right hand.”
“Mine too!” Debbie exclaimed. “Maybe after our naps, we’ll feel better, and we can pick more berries before we go home. But first, lunch!”
They sat in the soft grass and stuffed themselves with berries, laughing at each other’s purple lips. Then Molly rolled up her sweater, put it under her head, and was instantly asleep.
Debby fought hard to stay awake. It was too much of an effort to sit upright, so she rolled her sweater and did just as Molly had. Her last waking thought was I’ll listen for a bear while I’m lying down. And I don’t think one will come. Molly’s loud snoring would keep anything away.
***
Back at Sweet Water Home the place was in an uproar. When Jennie didn’t show up for breakfast, no one thought anything of it. Meals in the dining room were optional; residents could opt out or eat them in their rooms, and Jennie often skipped breakfast so she could sleep in. These last months she’d needed much more sleep than usual. When she didn’t show up and sit at her usual table for lunch, they were concerned. They went to check on Jennie and found her still in bed, covered up, with the same clothes she’d worn the day before.
It wasn’t that Jennie wasn’t breathing because she was. But she was breathing celestial air.
Two nurses were getting her ready for transport, and both were crying. “Sweet Jennie,” one of them said to the other. “She was my favorite here. Her heart failure was congenital. Both her sisters have it too. We’re going to have to tell them. This is going to break their hearts.”
The second nurse picked up the note and gasped. “Do you know what those two have done? This says they’ve gone berry picking. They wanted to take Jennie with them, but they thought she was sleeping. Where do you suppose they’ve gone, and how did they get out of here without being noticed?”
“We got that text message last night that the alarm system was down and to be especially watchful. Their dementia is pretty advanced, isn’t it?
“Yes, but in a delightful way. They think the cook is their mother and call her Ma. They call each other sissy and think they’re little girls. Every night at dinner they sing “Jesus Loves Me, This I know.” Then they recite a Bible verse, John 3:16. They have many of the other residents doing it with them. They are well-loved around here. I hope they’re okay. I have no idea where they might have gone berry picking. They’re pretty spry for 90 and 92. It’s probably going to take the mounted police to find them here in the foothills of the Adirondacks. God only knows where they are.”
God and two park rangers knew where they were. When they found two old ladies sleeping in the field, they didn’t even try to perform CPR. It was obviously way too late for that.
“Look how peaceful and happy they look,” the one commented.
The other one chuckled. “Look at the berry stains on their mouths and hands. They look like little girls. I don’t mind telling you Bill, I wouldn’t mind going out like that when it’s my turn, rather than locked away in that stuffy old folks’ home they’re from.”
“Old folks’ home? How do you know that?”
“Look at the patches on the sweaters.”
“Well, let’s call the police first, and then the home. I imagine someone is looking for these two by now.”
***
Molly and Debbie arrived at heaven’s gate within a second of each other. Delighted, they looked at a man leaning on the gate.
“Are you Saint Peter?” Molly asked. “Do we get to come in? We haven’t always been good, but we love Jesus.”
He laughed. “I know you love Jesus. You taught me ‘Jesus Loves Me’ and ‘John 3:16’ at Sweet Water Home. I’m Pete Smith. Don’t you remember me? I hate to disillusion you, but Saint Peter doesn’t stand at the gate up here and let people in. He has better things to do. Well come on in, then. Someone wants to see you!”
“Sissies!” Jennie squealed, throwing her arms around them. “What took you so long? I might have the shortest legs, but I got here first! And Mom and Dad and so many others are here too. Best of all, Jesus is waiting to see you. He wants to hear us sing “Jesus Loves Me.”
“Sing for Jesus?” Debby gasped and tears ran down her cheeks. “I could never!”
“Sure, you can,” the sweetest, most loving voice the sisters had ever heard replied. “Who do you think you’ve been singing it for all these years?”
They fell on their knees, looked up, and started to sing. Suddenly, Mom, and Dad, and a heavenly chorus of angels joined in.
When they finished, Jesus said, “Welcome Home, children. Do you have any questions?”
“Yes, Lord Jesus,” Molly answered timidly. “Do you serve homemade blackberry pie up here?”
Her sisters were a bit horrified, but Jesus laughed. “You’ll have to wait and see. But it sure is a homemade blackberry pie kind of day, isn’t it?”
The end.
***
These blogs are now available in book form on Amazon:
Backroad Ramblings Volume One: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
Backroad Ramblings Volume Two: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
Backroad Ramblings Volume Three: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
Backroad Ramblings Volume Four: Stories of Faith, Love, and Laughter
