Birds in the Air
The Birds in the Air quilt
pattern is symbolic of flight or migration and the dominant colored “arrows”
once pointed to the direction of safe travel for the slaves.
The Underground Railroad
was a network of abolitionists helping slaves escape to the north. Because
slaves were forbidden to read and write the abolitionists devised a way to
communicate directions to safe territory. One of the ways was to hang quilts
with special patterns on the washing line or through an open window appearing
that the housewife was simply washing or airing the quilt.
The second book in the Pecan Valley Series, based on the quilt pattern Bird's in the Air, will be available in 2014. Meanwhile here's an excerpt.Chapter 1
Biddie, although
dressed in bright crimson and purple, looked forlorn, melancholy and not up to
cheering for the Red Hat Society.
“I
haven’t heard from her for over a week,” Biddie stated and slumped into a pink
shabby chic chair placed in the corner of the antique mall booth. Her wide
brimmed red hat, that was askew, barely perched upon bouffant black hair
reminiscent of the sixties.
Bea bit
her lip, trying to come up with words of comfort for her friend while wondering
how Biddie kept the ends of her hair flipped up in a perfect curve.
“Perhaps
she’s flying,” Bea offered. “Doesn’t Rina have flying lessons every day?”
Nodding,
the hat slipped farther down, but Biddie neither noticed nor seemed convinced
that Rina would take off as it were without letting her aunt know.
Putting
down the quilt she had been draping over a screen propped against the wall of
the tiny booth, Bea slid into a matching chair opposite Biddie and grasped her small
hand. Although about the same mature age, Biddie was of smaller stature than
Bea. The veins on her hands were raised like meandering blue rivers. Her ankle
length violet colored dress pooled on to the floor and rested on dark brown
leather sandals.
“Look,”
said Bea with more conviction than she felt. “She came here to get away and
start a new career. I expect she’s made new friends at the aviation school and
is for once enjoying her life. Have you tried calling her?”
“I’ve
called, I’ve texted, I’ve sent her an e-mail and left a comment on Facebook.”
It was
definitely different from when Bea was in her twenties. You simply left a
message on a phone. A phone that could only be answered in the area as far as
the cord reached.
“What
about her blog?” Bea persisted. “Have there been an updates?”
If her
friend, Marge had been here, she would have pulled up the blog on her fancy
phone with all the bells and whistles that Bea simply couldn’t fathom.
“I hadn’t
thought about that. I’ll look when I get home.”
A
commotion from the antique mall entrance made both the ladies look up. Above the partition Bea spotted a
sea of red, like anemones stuck to rocks. The crimson, Burgundy and poppy-red
hats bobbed up and down and voices became louder and louder as they approached.
“I think
the group is here,” said Bea although there was little doubt that the Red Hat
Society had arrived.
“Go and
have a nice lunch in the tea room with them and I’ll see if I can find out
where Rina is.”
“Would
you?” asked Biddie and gripped her friend’s hand.
“Off you
go now,” said Bea, prizing her hand from Biddie’s clutches. “I’ll just finish
up here and go on over to The Cottonwood. That’s the hotel she’s staying in,
isn’t it?”
Biddie
nodded, adjusted her hat and brought up the rear of the purple and red group,
waving a little more cheerfully as she left.
The
sounds of chatter faded away and Bea smoothed the creases of a quilt she had
finished just yesterday. It was a birds in the air pattern with dark triangles that
pointed in one direction and resembled a flock of birds. Biddie had also started
work on a similar pattern, hoping to present it to her niece when she graduated
from aviation school. But there were several things that had bothered Bea about
Rina’s visit. Why had Rina come to Pecan Valley, but decided to stay in a hotel
and not with her aunt? Why hadn’t she called Biddie back and what was she
running away from? Despite Biddie’s protestations that this was simply a change
for Rina, Bea had a feeling there was more to this story than either Biddie
knew or was willing to share.
She’d
head over to The Cottonwood this morning and see what she can find out. Because
in spite of telling herself she was retired, Bea rarely sat still, nor did she
like unsolved mysteries so she intended to find that niece of Biddie’s and let
her know she needed to be more considerate and at least take her aunt out to
dinner occasionally.
With a
flick of her wrist Bea threw the quilt over the chair Biddie had vacated and
slung her purse over her arm. Behind her she heard squeals of laughter from the
red hat ladies and couldn’t for the life of her figure out why a bunch of
mature women wanted to dress in red and purple and make spectacles of
themselves. On her way to the entrance, she ran her fingers through her spiked caramel
colored hair, adjusted the elastic waisted white peasant top and smoothed her
hands down her red flowered Capri pants matching the embroidered flowers on her
shirt. Her teal blue toe nails failed to match anything in her attire.
“Mature
people should dress for their age,” she said with a shake of her head and
closed the door.
