The Time of the Fireflies by Kimberley Griffiths Little
I jerked my head up. Anna was staring directly at the thicket in which I hid. She was going to find me! If I stood, she’d see me for sure. Oh, why didn’t I leave five minutes ago!
I started to crawl on my hands and knees, keeping low. The shrubbery seemed so noisy, crackling and snapping as I scrambled around the trees.
The long dress wrapped tight around my knees and I lurched forward, dive-bombing into the dirt and leaves nose first. “Ouch!” Jerking at the tangled old-fashioned dress, I began crawling again, but Anna was right behind me. Running toward the cloud of fireflies — fireflies that belonged to me. Fireflies I needed to get across the broken bridge. I didn’t want Anna scaring them off or scattering them. I really did not want to spend the night out here.
The lightning bugs buzzed around my head, making me dizzy. How long could I stay in the past? Any second now, the year 1912 might dissolve right in front of my eyes. I could be stuck over here in the dark all night long!
“They’re so pretty!” Anna called out, much closer now. At first she was behind me, and then she was to my right. I figured if I kept going left, I’d eventually reach the bridge, if my knees didn’t give out. They were scratched and burning worse every minute.
I was probably shredding the old-fashioned dress, too. Mamma was gonna kill me if I ruined it. The price tag said fifty bucks.
All of a sudden Anna’s crashing and running stopped. “There you are!” she whispered, her voice right above me. I heard the sound of a lid on a jar.
Before I could stop myself, I let out an “Ah!” and then clapped my hand over my mouth. Anna was standing right in my path. She skidded to a stop.
In the final moments of twilight, Miss Anna Normand blinked at me real slow. In one hand she held a jar with a firefly buzzing frantically up against the glass, glowing like it was made of spun gold. With her other arm, she cradled Dulcie’s doll tight against her, the beautiful porcelain straight from the Island of the Dolls in the Caribbean.
“Who are you?” Miss Anna demanded, her eyes big as saucers. “Are you a thief? Do you have a gang of hoodlums waiting to burgle our home?”
I crouched on my knees, holding still as a statue. I was still stupidly hoping she couldn’t see me, so I said nothing.
Anna cleared her throat. “I spoke to you, girl. Who are you? Now answer me! Before I scream. Are there more of you hiding in the trees?”
Finally, I shook my head.
“Rise to your feet,” she commanded, and I gulped, slowly standing. Leaves crackled under my buttoned black shoes. “Where did you come from?”
For a split second, I considered pretending I was deaf or couldn’t talk, but I figured that might be too complicated. “I’m from — from Bayou Bridge.”
“You’re a town girl, or a servant girl, or what?”
I shook my head to all of her questions.
“Your dress is despicably dirty. And torn along the hem.”
I nodded, feeling completely foolish.
“What’s on your face?” She reached out to touch the scar on my cheek.
“Don’t!” I shrieked, pulling back. For several long seconds we stared at each other, me all dirty and torn and scarred. I even had shreds of Spanish moss snarled in my hair. I’d hoped Miss Anna would assume I was some poor, ugly girl and let me run away.
“Your face has got a terrible scar,” she finally said, curious. “How’d it happen?” Then Miss Anna Normand lifted her finger and connected with my cheek. There was a faint brush as her skin grazed my chin and ran along the ridge of my white scar.
But the moment we made contact, our two worlds collided.
I jerked backward like I’d just got hit by lightning. Falling straight down, I hit my head on the ground. Tears sprang to my eyes and pain radiated out from my skull.
Anna let out a bloodcurdling scream — and then the scream cut off and she was gone, vanished. Just like that. The whole thing happened in a split second.
I groaned in pain and tried to move. I was lying on my back in the dirt and leaves and moss, still wearing the old-fashioned dress, but the sky was lighter than just seconds ago.
Glancing around, I let out a breath. Anna Normand was gone. Disappeared into thin air.
Up ahead, I could make out the chimneys of the old Normand Mansion. Chimneys crumbling and blackened with age. I was back in my own time, the sun hovering on the edge of sunset. As if time hadn’t passed at all.
Slowly, I rolled over, stroking my face where Anna had touched me. The feel of her fingers, her skin against mine, had been so bizarre.
Inch by inch, I got on my hands and knees and pushed myself up. A twig snapped. I heard the rustle of a leaf. My stomach shot into my throat.
I was staring straight into an alligator’s beady red eyes.
A real live alligator.
I gulped down a nasty taste in my mouth. Willed myself not to scream or throw up.
I could lose a hand or a foot, if not my head. I could end up scarred up one side and down the other.
My eyes darted back and forth. It was a good thing it wasn’t quite as dark as when I’d left 1912. The alligator was sitting in a pile of brush waiting for prey — me. The reptile appeared sleepy, it hadn’t stirred yet, but I knew it had the potential to move fast.
I estimated ten, fifteen feet between us, which meant I had a fighting chance. My paw-paw had always told me that alligators were shy and more scared of me than I was of them. At that moment, I wasn’t so sure I believed him. I’d never been this close before.
Move, I told myself. But I was glued to the ground, terror gushing up my throat.
The gator’s eyes shifted toward me. That’s all it took. I let out a wild scream and raced for the bank.
Wind tore at my throat as my legs pumped like a madwoman’s. I leaped through the brush until I hit the dirt path. I swore the gator was right behind me, tail slithering, jaw snapping, about to come down on my heels any second. He’d pull me into the deep bayou waters and roll me around until I drowned. I’d seen it on National Geographic. Heck, I’d heard my mamma and daddy read about it in the newspaper right here. I was about to die! But I didn’t dare take the time to look behind me; I just ran and ran and ran and ran.
The sound of gasping was raw in my ears, and I was about to burst into sobs when I turned back around wildly, wishing I had a thick tree limb to use for a weapon. No sign of the gator.
I finally slowed, but stayed on the cleared path. I swiveled my head back and forth, but all was quiet. No red eyes. I began to consider that I may have startled the gator as much as he startled me. Should have remembered that while dusk was the perfect time for lightning bugs, it was the worst time for gators and other critters.
Keeping a sharp eye, I stumbled toward the broken bridge, and my stomach dropped like a rock. The fireflies were gone. They’d disappeared before I could get back across!
Yesterday I’d floated back across the bridge, easy peasy. What was different this time?
Miss Anna Normand had touched me, that’s what was different. The past and present had crashed together. Two worlds that weren’t supposed to see each other, let alone touch. As soon as her finger met my face, I’d been instantly zapped back to my own time. In the very same spot I’d been standing in 1912.
Horror shot down my back. “That means —” I gulped. “That alligator was there all the while I was hiding behind the cypress during the barbecue, and I didn’t even know it.”
The broken bridge was still broken. It was getting dark. I was stranded.
Hot tears stung my eyes. I felt like a baby, but I knew I was stuck here for the night. With alligators hiding close by. Which meant I had to walk myself back up to the deserted house with its moldy walls and caved-in staircase. With dirt and mice droppings and no dinner.
I stared across the water and tried to stop bawling, tried to come up with a plan to get home.
I wondered what Anna told her family when I disappeared in front of her eyes.
Then I wondered if it really was the fireflies that had taken me to the past. Or could I see the past because I lived in the antique store? Maybe I was tainted by unseen spirits clinging to the old furniture and tea sets and porcelain dolls. To the old-fashioned dress and shoes I was wearing.
The girl on the phone had told me to come. She knew something I didn’t know. Next time she called she had some explaining to do! I didn’t know what I was supposed to do back in 1912, although obviously, I wasn’t supposed to interact with my ancestors. I could still feel the whisper of Anna’s fingers along my cheek.
I whirled on my toes, thinking hard as I paced the dock. The girl on the phone had said, “It’s a matter of life and death.”
“So why don’t you just tell me?” I burst out. “Next time I’m gonna get myself killed. Next time I’ll be sitting on an alligator’s head!”
Twilight settled, and the broken bridge disappeared with the darkness. I could barely make out the shoreline and the dirt road beyond. Tiny pinpricks of neighborhood lights. It wasn’t really that far, but it seemed like miles.
It was time to do the only thing I could do. Scream bloody murder and hope the sound carried. “Help!” I yelled. “Help! I’m over here! Help me! Please help me!”
Pretty soon, nobody else would be able to see me, either. I’d be hidden behind darkness. Stuck here all night. And if I was, I couldn’t sit here on the bank. I’d have to find my way back to the deserted house without a flashlight. Without any kind of light all night long.
“Heeeelp!” I screamed, waving my arms like a crazy person. “Somebody please help! I’m over here!”
Then, like a miracle, I heard a faint voice give a shout in return. Heard the slosh of waves, a shadow on the water.
My eyes bugged out as I strained to see, and all of a sudden a rowboat bumped against the partial dock. A girl sat inside, thrashing the oars, trying to maintain her position as a small wave hit the pilings. “Grab the rope!” she called. In the dim light, I tripped over the torn hem of my long dress as she threw me the rope.
The girl had brown hair, and her eyes were just a little bit frantic as the boat banged against the pilings. It was Alyson Granger, again. Of course.
But I was relieved to see another human being, even if it was my mortal enemy. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t you remember?” Alyson said, hanging on to the piling with one arm. “I passed you a while back. After I delivered Mamma’s cookies I came back to see if you were still lurking around the cypress knees.”
“I wasn’t lurking,” I said, my face going hot.
Alyson shrugged. “Then I heard shouting, and I could tell it was coming from across the water. That’s when I saw you dancing on the bank.”
“I wasn’t dancing, either! I was jumping up and down and waving to get someone’s attention.”
“Whatever. You’re lucky I have good hearing.”
I nodded, both grateful and wary at her showing up to rescue me.
“So what are you waiting for?” Alyson said. “Get in and grab an oar. We need to get back before it’s pitch-black.”
Alyson held the boat against the dock, keeping it steady while I scooted myself over the edge of the pier and slid into the boat. She handed me an oar. “You stroke right, and I’ll stroke left and steer.”
“Whose boat is this?”
“My older brother’s. He left it tied down there a ways closer to our house.”
“Did you have to get permission?”
“Probably, but I knew there wasn’t much time. Hey, row faster, okay? I don’t like to be out on the water when it’s getting dark.”
“Well, me neither!” My heart was going a hundred miles an hour. I was grateful to be rescued, but annoyed that Alyson Granger was my savior. She’d probably tell the whole town how dumb I was. We fell silent as we bumped into the opposite bank a few minutes later.
“Jump out first,” Alyson instructed, “and tie us up on that tupelo trunk right there.”
I did as she said and made a knot so the rope wouldn’t loosen.
I was impressed with Alyson’s boating skills. Guess she’d done this before, like most every bayou kid. But I was surprised she’d come out so quickly to get me. She didn’t run home to get help or permission. Never knew mousy follower-girl Alyson Granger had it in her.
After we were standing in the soft dirt along the bank once more, I tried to catch my breath, brushing back my sweaty hair. Then I realized I was exposing my scarred cheek. Quickly, I turned away to climb up the bank’s incline to the road.
“Larissa,” Alyson said behind me in a quiet voice.
“What?” I said impatiently, not wanting her to gawk at my face. “Guess you want my daddy to pay you for rescuing me?”
Her eyes flew wide. “What are you talking about? You think I’m that much of a creep?”
I shrugged. If the shoe fit … who was I to say differently?
“I just — I just wanted to ask you if that scar — well, I mean, does it hurt?”
“No,” I said fiercely, waiting for her to make fun of me. I paused. “Least not much. Sometimes.”
“I’m sorry,” Alyson apologized. “You know that day last summer? I never meant for you to get hurt. Really, I didn’t. I hope you’ll believe me. I want you to believe me. Because it’s the truth.”
I shrugged again, not giving her satisfaction either way. But a tiny part of me was glad to hear her say that. Words I never thought I’d hear her say in a million years. “Gotta get home,” I finally said.
She nodded. “Yeah, me, too.”
We stood there for another few seconds.
“My mamma’s gonna kill me for missing supper.”
Alyson nodded conspiratorially. “Mine, too. And now my brother will, too, if he ever finds out I took his boat.”
“Then I hope he never finds out.” I felt my mouth working up into a half smile and I quickly stopped it.
“Thanks, Larissa.”
“Um, yeah. Thanks for coming to get me. Guess if our parents found out we’d both be in a huge heap of trouble.”
“That’s for sure.”
Silence hung again and I finally started down the road, the only light coming from a few backyard lamps beyond the fences.
Alyson reached out to touch my arm. Real fast. Light as a firefly. I jerked, remembering when Miss Anna had touched me: so soft, like a quick breath of air. “Just wondering …” Alyson said, playing nervously with the ends of her hair. “How’d you get over there anyway? The bridge is broken. There’s a huge gap of at least fifteen feet of broken planks. Or no planks at all. I don’t think anybody with half a brain would swim it. Besides, you ain’t wet.”
I bit at my lips. She’d deem me certified crazy. Off my rocker. “It’s hard to explain,” I said in a low voice. “You wouldn’t believe me.”
“Hmm.” She didn’t press me, but her eyes were intense as she studied me.
I didn’t want her probing any deeper so I picked up my skirts and raced for home. After a minute I sneaked a glance over my shoulder. Alyson Granger’s shadow had disappeared into the night.
This town is cursed, I tell you, Luke,” Mamma was saying as I walked in the door.
Daddy was clearing the supper dishes and Mamma leaned against the sink, arms folded across her chest, belly protruding like a beach ball under her balloon-like blouse.
“Why did we ever come back?” she sniffed. “Everything bad that ever happened to my family happened here in Bayou Bridge. I must have been crazy to agree to buy this store.” Then Mamma saw me and pounced. “Where have you been, Larissa? I was about to call the sheriff! We waited for supper and you didn’t show. I called around to the neighboring shops and a couple girls from school and nobody’d seen you!”
“I’m fine,” I said, chills running down my arms when I remembered those red, sinister gator eyes. If my parents knew, they’d never let me out of
“I even called Shelby Jayne, but Miz Mirage told me she was gone on a trip with her grandmother Phoebe.”
“I told you that already,” I said. “You never listen to me.”
“Of course I listen to you, but you can’t just waltz in and out however you please. I needed your help with the cooking. And Daddy had a million phone calls about some delayed shipments we’ve been waiting for on special order.”
Daddy ran a hand through his hair and sighed. His eyes were puffy and tired. “I got paperwork to do. Tomorrow’s Monday, a brand-new week of problems.”
“Don’t you care about your own daughter?” Mamma said, her voice shaking. “Where she’s been, what she’s been doing?”
“’Course I do. You know that. I was about to go looking for her when she walked in the door.” He turned to me and rubbed a hand along my arm. “Yep, it’s really her. In the flesh.”
“Don’t you get sarcastic with me, Luke Renaud.”
“Not being sarcastic, honey, just trying to lighten the mood. I’m tired and gotta stay up late again in the office. Larissa is here and perfectly fine. Although a little dirty.”
“So where have you been, young lady? And wearing one of the store’s antique dresses?” Mamma asked.
I blinked at my mother, the overhead kitchen lights harsh and bright.
“Um.” What was I supposed to say? That I’d been following fireflies back to 1912? Almost got eaten by a gator? “Um, I was with Alyson Granger.” That was true, actually. At least for the last thirty minutes.
“Guess if we’d called Sheriff Granger he would have known where she was,” Daddy said.
“Not funny,” Mamma said, her eyes narrowing. “Since when are you friends with the enemy?”
“Maddie!” Daddy winced.
Mamma sucked in her breath, guilt on her face.
“Since when do you call a little girl the enemy?” Daddy went on. “You gotta stop this kind of thinking. It’s making you angry and bitter all the time.”
Mamma’s voice shook. “I got a right to be angry and bitter. My family has practically been destroyed by this town and the people here.”