melodrama

A LITTLE CROWN

by Harper Kingsley

The paper crackled in Papa’s hand. His face was heavily lined, as though he’d aged 20-years in the last few minutes. There was a wildness to his eyes.

Miri wanted to ask what was wrong, what had happened. Why did Papa have such an expression on his face? But she was scared to speak, afraid to know.

Papa gestured for Mama to leave the room with him, and they went into the hallway where their voices became a low murmur of worry and something Miri had never heard from them before: fear.

She poked at her breakfast, no longer hungry, but made herself eat every bite.

Whatever was happening, she didn’t want to cause problems by not finishing her food. And if it was bad enough that there was no lunch later, she didn’t want to be left with a grumbling belly when she’d much rather be out playing.

She’d just rinsed her plate and lowered it into the sink–careful, careful so as not to chip the delicate porcelain–when Mama hurried back into the room.

“Come Miriam, you have to get dressed,” Mama said, in a tone that sounded like fake cheeriness but that really made Miri’s stomach tighten with anxiety. Something was wrong. “We have to pack. We’re going on a little trip.”

“Where are we going?” Miri asked, obediently following her mother.

They passed by Papa’s office, and he was busy inside grabbing things from his desk and putting them in a briefcase. The briefcase that Miri had played with once before she was scolded, because she’d managed to lock the key inside and Papa had had to find his just-in-case extra key to open it again.

“Don’t worry, dear, but we don’t have time to talk about it. We have to get your clothes and your shoes and…” Mama’s voice wavered, the cheeriness cracking around the edges. “It’s going to be all right, I promise. We’re going to be all right.”

Miri wanted to ask more questions, but she swallowed them down and hurried with Mama to her room. Where Mama quickly laid an outfit for her on the bed and instructed her to change out of her pajamas while Mama packed her little suitcase full to bulging.

And Miri dressed and didn’t complain when Mama tugged too hard when braiding her hair or the pins poked her scalp when the braids were woven into a little crown on top of her head. She simply bit her lip and fought back the tears that wanted to come, because she was strong and brave and Mama looked so worried she didn’t want to add to it.

“Take your suitcase to the door,” Mama instructed. “I have to pack the bags for me and Papa. And you can put on your own shoes, can’t you?”

“Yes, Mama,” Miri said. And the suitcase was heavy for her little arms, but she was strong and she carried it without complaint to the front door. Listening behind her as Mama ran to the other bedroom and threw open the closet with a clatter.

Something was very wrong, Miri knew. And as she sat on the small bench her Papa had made just for her and tugged on her shoes, she wondered what had been written on the paper.

And she was afraid that she would soon find out.

==THE END==

~Harper Kingsley
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