Skyward. Mary Monroe Alice

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      Harris weighed the lecture building in his mind about how humans needed to keep away from raptor nests so as not to disturb them, but decided against it. This man seemed pretty knowledgeable, and at the moment, he needed his help.

      “Could you show me where this nest is?”

      Lijah rubbed his jaw with his brow creased, then said with hesitation, “I suppose I could.”

      “Lijah, it’s going to be hard for that male to incubate any young that may have hatched. Damn near impossible, in fact. We’ll have to watch the nest carefully, in case he abandons it.”

      “I intend to.”

      “Maybe if we…”

      Harris’s attention was diverted by a gentle tug on his trousers. Looking down, he saw the sweet, pale face of his five-year-old daughter. Marion’s hair was pulled back into an elastic that was slipping off center. The clothes he’d seen her in that morning were now slightly soiled and a smudge of grape jelly lingered at the corner of her pouting lips.

      “Daddy?”

      His face softened at the sight of her. “Yes, baby?”

      “Are we gonna go shopping yet?” she asked in a soft whine.

      Shopping. Christmas Eve. Dusk. All these realities hit him like a bucket of cold water dumped down his back. How could he have forgotten the outing? It was always this way with him. He’d get so caught up in his work he’d lose track of time and anything else that was on his calendar.

      His daughter’s eyes were filled with childish expectation and longing and Maggie’s admonitions played again in his mind. He swung his head around to look out the window. It was only four o’clock but already the sky was dark. A few flakes floated in the dim light outside the door, but nothing to be worried about. He had to make good on his promise. If he hurried, they’d be in town and back before too late.

      “Why, sure, honey,” he replied, jostling her hair, sending the elastic flying. “Just give me a minute to close things up here.” He looked again at the old man, who had already reached out to grab his hat.

      “I best be going,” he told Harris. “It’s Christmas and looks like you’ve got an evening planned.”

      “We do. Heck of a night to hit the roads, though, isn’t it. Can I drop you somewhere?”

      “No, sir. Thank you but I’ll find my own way.”

      “But didn’t you say you walked here?”

      “I did. But don’t pay me mind. My friends live a short way down the road.”

      “But the closest house is a long walk through the woods. I insist. Let me drive you.”

      Lijah shook his head and began heading toward the door. “I been sitting here all day. My legs’ll enjoy the stretch. Thanks again for tending to my bird. I’ll stop by tomorrow, if you don’t mind. Just to see how she is.” Before leaving, he bent his snowy white head and smiled warmly at Marion. “Merry Christmas to you, little missy.”

      Marion smiled shyly and ducked behind her father’s legs.

      “We’ll talk again. I’d like to go to that nest,” Harris said.

      Lijah nodded, then left, quietly closing the door behind him.

      Harris stared after him a moment. The man left a lingering impression. With a sigh, he peeked out the window at the smattering of faint snowflakes dancing in the gray-blue afternoon. Placing his arm around his daughter’s slim shoulders, he bent close to her ear.

      “Will you look at that?” he asked. “It’s been a long time since I last saw snow for Christmas right here in South Carolina. In fact,” he said, squeezing her close, “I’ll bet this is the first time you’ve seen snow at all. Guess it’ll help ol’ Santa.”

      “You told me there’s no such thing as Santa.”

      His brows rose. “I did, huh?”

      She nodded her head.

      Even though he never encouraged belief in such things as fairies, Santa and the Easter Bunny, he believed firmly in the magic and beauty found in the wilds of nature and human nature alike. Life was full of hard realities, like people putting buckshot into an eagle for sport. And though he was dog-tired and hungry, at least for tonight he’d do what he could to keep the magic alive.

      

      Harris felt blinded by the fluorescent lights as he strolled into the Wal-Mart store with Marion in tow. There was so much stuff everywhere. Who could need so many things? Bright red bows, gold tinsel and moving Santas seemed to jump out at him from the shelves. Compared to the silence of the woods, the loud and persistent Christmas music was grating to his ears. He squeezed his daughter’s hand and fought the urge to walk faster through the aisles. Other shoppers racing through the store brushed clumsily as they passed in a buying frenzy. He couldn’t wait to get back outdoors.

      “Daddy, I’m thirsty.” Marion’s face peeked out from the hood of her pink parka, a hand-me-down from one of Maggie’s girls. It was too small; Marion’s shoulders were squeezed and the cuffs were inching up her forearms. He thought of buying her a new coat, since they were already here, then thought again. Money was tight and it wasn’t cold for that long in South Carolina. He figured this parka would make do awhile longer.

      “You had a drink before we left the house and another at the gas station. You can’t be thirsty again.”

      “But I am. Can I have some of that?” she asked, pointing to some icy blue swirling mixture for sale at the snack bar.

      “Maybe later.”

      Marion dragged tiredly on his arm and whined, “I’m thirsty now, Daddy.”

      Her tone was insistent, drawing his attention from the aisles of toys. On closer inspection her face appeared flushed and her eyes glassy. Come to think of it, she’d downed those glasses of juice this morning as if she were dying of thirst. He wondered if she could be coming down with something.

      “I’ll tell you what,” he said, bending over to speak gently. “Let’s pick out your present first and then, if you feel up to it, we’ll go someplace real special for our Christmas Eve dinner. You can get anything you want then. How’s that sound?”

      “Okay,” she replied with lackluster, casting a final longing glance at the drink machine.

      It was his fault they’d had such a late start, but he couldn’t help feeling disappointed. He’d hoped she might be a little excited by their special outing instead of dragging her feet and complaining. When they reached the doll section, he spread out his arm grandly and said with the enthusiasm of a carnival barker, “Look, Marion! Have you ever seen so many dolls in one place? And you can pick any which one you want for Christmas. Go on! Any one at all.”

      Marion let go of his hand and shuffled close to the row of dolls, staring dully at them with her arms dropped to her sides. There was no squeal of delight or so much as an ooh of anticipation.

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