Broken Flower (Early Spring 1)

"I won't tell," I said.

"C'mon to my camper," Flora said, "I'll make you a peanut butter sandwich."

"We have to go home for lunch," I reminded Ian.

"She's right," he said.

"I thought you wanted to see my butterfly collection."

"Yes, I did," Ian said.

"So. That won't take long. And," she said, "I have something to give Jordan." She smiled at me and reached for my hand. She held it so tightly. I couldn't run off if I wanted.

I saw Addison had joined three other boys who looked much younger. They were off to our right in a parking lot hitting rocks with sticks toward the woods.

"It doesn't take much to amuse Addison," Flora said.

Before we reached her camper, the door opened and a heavy woman with dark brown hair chopped short around her ears stepped out. It looked like it had been hacked with a hatchet. She waved a tablecloth in the air to disperse crumbs or something. She was wearing a pair of jeans and the faded gray top of a sweat suit and looked like an older and larger version of Flora. Her heavy bosom rolled about like globs of putty beneath her top as she shook the tablecloth more vigorously. Finally, she saw us and stopped.

"Who do we have here?" she asked Flora while she looked at

It wasn't difficult to see the resemblances in their faces. They had the same smile, twisting their thick lips crookedly. She folded the tablecloth as we drew closer.

"This is Ian's sister," Flora replied. "Jordan."

"Hello, dear," Flora's mother said, still holding on to her smile. "Your father's gone fishing," she told Flora. "I'm going to meet him down at the pier restaurant for lunch. I have all sorts of cold cuts, potato salad, fresh rye bread, and a chocolate layer cake for you and Addison. You can invite your new friends, too," she said. "Just don't mess up the mess," she added, and laughed. She went inside.

"That's my mother," Flora said. "My father is six feet two and only one hundred and forty pounds. My mother says a brisk wind will blow through him. I call them Night and Day," she added.

"We'd better go home, Ian," I repeated. "Mama will be very angry."

He looked at his watch. "I would like to see the collection and we have at least an hour," he told me. "You want to go back, go."

I looked at the woods.

"The bear could have come around and might be in there," Flora said.

"That's possible," Ian said.

I knew they were just trying to frighten me, but even though I knew it, I was still afraid.

Flora's mother emerged again and went down the small stairway. She waved at us and continued to her right to walk out of the campground and down to the lake. Her hips were so big, she looked like she waddled instead of walked.

"C'mon," Flora said, and we went into the camper.

The first thing that I noticed was the odor. It smelled like burnt toast. There was a very small kitchen to our left and a table just to our right, now covered with the tablecloth Flora's mother had shaken out a few minutes ago. The dishes from breakfast and maybe from dinner the night before as well were still piled in the sink.

The camper had a small living room and down a hallway after that two bedrooms with the bigger one being at the very end. Flora explained that Addison slept on the pullout sofa and she had the other bedroom.

"My father keeps promising to get us a cabin up here one day, too, but I'm not holding my breath," Flora said.

She led us to her bedroom. It was really just a double bed with built-in dressers. The bed wasn't made neatly. The blanket had been folded back unevenly and the top sheet hung down on one side. There were magazines and books on the floor. She went to one of the dressers and opened the bottom drawer to take out what looked like a big album.

"This is it," she told Ian, and sat on the bed. She opened it on her lap and I saw butterflies in little plastic bags stuck to the pages. "I have five

swallowtails on this page," she began, and pointed as she identified them: "A pipevine, zebra, black, eastern tiger, and a spicebush.

"On this page I have the fritillaries. Here I have the northern metalmark and here," she said, turning another page, "I have three checkerspots.