Excerpted from Signs and Wonders

Linda studied the toppled fountain on the ground in front of her. Its concrete pedestal crumbled, and its small cistern broken, allowing it to meld into the ground. She thought back to that mini-series she had seen as a teenager, in the days when PBS was the only source for programming that was British or artsy. The voice of James Earl Jones echoed… “The world is full of signs and wonders,” he told the woman whose daughter had left college to join a cult. That’s all Linda really remembered of it. The world is full of signs and wonders… and here was one of the signs in front of her… on her daughter’s college campus. Her own daughter, not the miniseries character, at that same vulnerable time in her life. Hopefully there was no cult on the horizon, unless it was one of sensible students who did nothing but study and make good choices. Yeah right. Maybe I should start that one, thought Linda. I could market it at all the test prep centers. 

She returned to the fountain… $67K a year should at least provide enough money for a university groundskeeper or a golf cart with a couple of work study kids to haul the broken fountain away. This was neglect, obviously, but was it willful or just apathetic? Either way it bothered her. It had been overlooked, and now it was here, giving life to James Earl Jones in her head.

Linda looked at her watch, the one that Nico had given her for Mother’s Day five years ago. She rarely wore it, having given up watches in favor of her phone, but she hoped Nico would notice it. Anything to bring her back, back to a time when everything was all right. She was examining the watch when she felt the intensity of someone’s gaze on her back. She turned and saw Nico, thinner than she had been at spring break. Her hair was also longer and darker or was it just unwashed. “So, it’s not just the fountain,” thought Linda. Nico was pushing a housing cart overflowing with random bags and boxes. Linda popped the trunk and moved toward the cart. Nico pushed it past her, bumping it against the edge of the car. Linda instinctively recoiled, allowing a squeak to escape from her throat. Nico ignored her and unloaded the contents of the cart into the trunk. Plastic bags tore, clothing tumbled onto the asphalt, and boxes collapsed from the weight of heavier things placed on top of them. Linda tried to make herself useful by packing some of the things in the back seat. She had nearly finished arranging the space behind the passenger seat when the car shook. Raising her eyebrow, Linda backed herself out of the car to see what was going on. 

Nico tried to close the trunk of the car again. No luck. Linda wasn’t surprised. Loose blankets and books fought for space amongst the broken boxes and muddy boots. Nico flung the trunk down again. It bounced back up, vibrating like a cartoon character who’d been hit by a shovel. As Nico pushed and pulled at her possessions, Linda felt a tremor rise from the tips of her fingers through her hands to her wrist. She could see the problem immediately. She jumped into action, imposing order on the trunk before gently sealing it. “Baby steps,” she whispered, almost inaudibly.