Maiden Voyage, Book Three of the COMFREY, WYOMING series, finds twins, Amadeus and Marcela, on very different paths to self-discovery. As their guardian, Heidi Crow, attempts to weave a safety net as original and complex as the twins themselves, she prays it will hold through Marcelaâs gender affirming surgery and Amadeusâs uncertain future in Alaskaâs lucrative and dangerous fishing industry.
A richly diverse cast, including a Shakespeare-quoting street basketball player and a Chinese purveyor of pu-erh tea, joins characters already beloved by readers of the series in this transcendent tale of nontraditional family and steadfast friends.
Maiden Voyage, Book Three of the COMFREY, WYOMING series, finds twins, Amadeus and Marcela, on very different paths to self-discovery. As their guardian, Heidi Crow, attempts to weave a safety net as original and complex as the twins themselves, she prays it will hold through Marcelaâs gender affirming surgery and Amadeusâs uncertain future in Alaskaâs lucrative and dangerous fishing industry.
A richly diverse cast, including a Shakespeare-quoting street basketball player and a Chinese purveyor of pu-erh tea, joins characters already beloved by readers of the series in this transcendent tale of nontraditional family and steadfast friends.
Amadeus Crow baited his hook with a miniature dachshund puppy and attempted to reel his sister in.Â
âLook, Marcela, two are chocolate-colored,â he said, pointing at the computer screen.Â
Resting her hand on her brotherâs shoulder, Marcela leaned over and frowned at the image of five puppies in a basket.Â
âThey look black,â she said, squeezing his shoulder experimentally. âYou working out?âÂ
âAlways,â he said, shrugging her hand off. âItâs the lighting that makes them look black. Theyâre more like bittersweet chocolate, Heidiâs favorite. Câmon Marcela, I know you have over four hundred bucks, and I have a hundred. How much can they be?âÂ
To her credit, Marcela didnât mention she would be pitching in most of the money, assuming a dachshund puppy could be had for five hundred dollars.Â
âWhere are they?â she asked, and Amadeus felt a little tug on the line. She was interested.Â
âThatâs the thing,â he said casually. âItâs pretty far, but you can drive as much as you want.âÂ
They shared a car with their aunt; driving time was premium. The line gave another little tug.Â
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âOkay, maybe. So, where are they?â Marcela asked again.Â
âTen Sleep.â Amadeus winced as he felt the line go slack.Â
Marcela drew back and stared at her brother in disbelief. She shook her head slowly and compressed her lips into a hard line. Ten Sleep, months of nightmare eleven years ago. On occasion, even now, she would feel a wave of desolation so complete it stopped her in her tracks. The legacy of ignorance, intolerance, and alcohol addiction. She closed her eyes and swallowed hardâAmadeus couldnât really be suggesting they go back.Â
Looking at his sisterâs shuttered face, Amadeus continued softly, âItâs just a place with puppies, Marcela. Weâre sixteen now, no one can touch us, we can kick Ten Sleep in its butt. That Shit Seanâs probably gone or dead by now. We go back dressed as we want.â He meant she could dress as a girl; heâd wear his standard T-shirt and jeans.Â
Without saying a word, Marcela went outside, slamming the door behind her. Amadeus gave her a few minutes before following. He found her sitting on the ground, her back against the trunk of the Winter Nelis pear. He lay down next to her and a sudden gust of wind buffeted the treeâs branches.Â
âStop it, Nara,â he muttered.Â
Marcela looked at the sunlight dappling her brotherâs bronze skin with gold. His long black hair fanned out across the fallen leaves. His face was turned away from her, but she had heard him talking to their mother. That hadnât changed over the years; although these days he usually called her Nara instead of Mom, almost as if they were friends. Heâd taken to dropping the âAuntâ from Heidi too. Another strike at independence? Marcelaâs mixture of frustration and jealousy eased when Amadeus clasped her ankle with his callused hand. She was grateful for his warmth.Â
They had always agreed theyâd never go back to Ten Sleep, but now that they could drive, her brother was restless.
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Typical Amadeusâthe puppy in that little town was just an excuse, an opportunity to prove he was invincible. They had been five years old, she had been the one singled out for abuse. Although her brother had always stood by her, it couldnât have been as bad for him, but That Shit Sean could well be dead by now, they had willed it so many times. And if he were still alive in Ten Sleep, he wouldnât recognize them in a black Mercedes. Would they even recognize the place their mother had gone off the road? Would they recognize where theyâd climbed up the bank in the dark and stood by the highway, waiting for help, their mother unconscious in the car? Maybe not. Aside from the horror, it probably looked like most highway curves in Wyoming.Â
She said half-heartedly, âAunt Heidi doesnât want another dog and sheâll say itâs too far.âÂ
Amadeus opened an eye. âShe didnât say she didnât want another dog. She said that no other dog could ever replace Gering. Heâs been dead like almost four years. If she sees a chocolate dachshund puppy, sheâs not going to make us take it back.âÂ
âShe will say it is too far to drive,â Marcela repeated, annunciating each word.Â
âObviously we do not tell her we are going to Ten Sleep,â said Amadeus, copying her tone.Â
âSo, Sir Lies A Lot, what do we tell her?âÂ
Amadeus sat up. âWe just ask to borrow the car to go buy her a birthday present in Pinedale. We say after that, weâre going to Lake Fremont, paddle boarding, swimming, and stuff, so weâll be gone all day. If we drive home from Ten Sleep through Pinedale, we can stop to get her a little something extra, so itâll be less lying. It would be a whaddya call it?âÂ
âA lie of omission,â sighed his sister.Â
âExactly, we leave out the Ten Sleep part. Coming back, we could drive up through the reservation, through Teton, Pinedale and down. Back to our
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roots.Donât you feel it on the Rez?âÂ
âNo,â said Marcela.Â
âWhatever,â Amadeus said, serving up Marcelaâs favorite response, minus the eye roll. âAnyway, home for dinner. Itâs summer, Heidi said we deserved a day off. Do you really want to help every damn day with dinner prep and clean up? They can get Tyree, he wants hours, heâs trying to get a better place so he can attract a woman.âÂ
Marcela remained silent, but he could feel her weakening. Encouraged, he continued, âWe take food, we put gas in the car, and weâll still have over four hundred ân fifty bucks. The ad says the price is negotiable. You can choose which puppy and name it, but Heidi can change the name to some German food thing, like Wiener Schnitzel or Strudel or something, if she wants. Okay?âÂ
Wiener Schnitzel ⌠Marcela bit back a grin.Â
âOkay,â she said finally, âbut I drive as much as I want to and we phone first to make sure there are still puppies. How do you negotiate a puppy price, anyway?âÂ
Amadeus considered ⌠few people desired the unconventional when it came to puppies. âMaybe thereâs a weird one,â he said. âMissing toes, no tail, runty, or something. Heidi always feels sorry for the weird ones. It would be like a bonus.âÂ
Heidi Crow sat in her office off the restaurant kitchen. She was distracted by payroll taxes and handed over the keys with few questions beyond why Marcela was dressed up so nicely to go paddle boarding at Lake Fremont.Â
âSheâs just practicing, you know the âI am woman hear me roar stuffâ. Sheâs got what she needs for the lake in a bag,â said Amadeus glibly, nodding to his sister to make a quick exit.Â
âYouâre going to hell, youâre such a lyinâ liar,â said Marcela, as they got in the car, which was parked as usual in the lotÂ
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behind The Crowâs Nest, the restaurant their aunt had owned for ten years.Â
âI hear hell is where the hot women are,â said Amadeus with a smirk.Â
They eased off the lot, squabbling about whether Amadeus made the âhot womenâ comment up or just heard it some-where. Neither of them looked left before pulling on to Main Street.Â
When the driver of the black Mercedes turned the corner without looking, Fred Darcy blasted his horn and slammed on the brakes. His truck fishtailed right in front of the long plate-glass window of The Crowâs Nest. Fred could feel himself flushing as folks digging into their breakfasts paused to stare.Â
He ran his hand over his face and avoided looking at the restaurant again as he straightened the truck and drove off. Why should he feel embarrassed when he wasnât in the wrong? But there it was, if anyone was going to feel embar-rassed in any situation, it would be him. This damn small town full of watchers and judgers didnât help.Â
He was surprised to see the Mercedes pulled over at the edge of town. The passenger had gotten out and was waving at him to stop. Fred parked behind the car and got out of his truck. Maybe they had stalled.Â
âHey, youâre Elizabethâs husband, right?â asked the boy with a grin.Â
Fred nodded.Â
âWell my sister,â he pointed to the driver, who was looking steadfastly straight ahead, âis sorry she scared the crap out of you and plans to be way more careful in future.âÂ
Again, Fred nodded.Â
âAnd,â the boy drew out the word, âweâre hoping maybe you wonât say anything to our aunt, because well, weâre on our way to get her a birthday present and the
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present will be kindaâŚâ he searched for the word â⌠kinda tainted if she knew my sister,â another glance at the car, âwas driving like an idiot.âÂ
Fred examined the boy. This was the first time heâd seen either of the twins up this close. If Marcela looked as much like her brother as people said she did, he could see what had attracted his son, Lucas, to the girl from such a young age.Â
âIâm pretty sure all those people eating their breakfast on the other side of that long window will have informed your aunt of the, ah, incident already,â said Fred, taking some satisfaction at the boyâs expletive.Â
Fred shrugged; the boy shrugged.Â
âMaybe you should drive,â suggested Fred.Â
âNo, we made kind of a deal, and anyway, she got her license a week before me, so sheâs more experienced.âÂ
Fred raised his eyebrows and nodded at the car. âThatâs more experienced?âÂ
âYeah, and she learned her lesson right now. She said to say thanks.âÂ
Fred managed to meet the boyâs bold gaze and asked where the twins were going.Â
âUm, you know, just around, maybe Pinedale,â said Ama-deus. âYou?âÂ
âGillette, so Iâd best be going.â Fred glanced again at the Mercedes. âDrive safe.âÂ
âYou too,â said the boy, without missing a beat. âGilletteâs a big placeâeyes on the road, hands at two and ten, look both ways.âÂ
Fred shook his head as he walked back to his truck. He would bet good money that boy didnât fluster easy.Â
* * * * * *Â
Flora Wong was lost in the fragrance of the yellow roses she was trimming along the wrought iron fence that bordered her sidewalk, when she heard, then
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saw, the sleek, black, vintage diesel Mercedes pull up in front of the house, earlier than she expected. A car like that? Rare in these parts. She rapidly started reassessing her asking price.Â
The passenger waved and Flora didnât think she could dash to the backyard to hide what her husband referred to as âthe mutantâ, who was still playing with his brothers and sisters. The mutant was not good publicity and his future was a bone of contention between her husband and herself.Â
Flora opened the front gate and stood awkwardly by the car as the couple inside carried on an animated conversation before glancing up at her. When they got out, she looked at them in surprise. From the voice on the phone, and now this Mercedes, she hadnât expected Indian kids. Their hair was the same length and hung loose to well below their shoulders. Their features were strikingly similar. Twins?Â
The boy wore a T-shirt and jeans. The girl was beautifully dressed in a long-sleeved red blouse and black skirt, cinched with a silver belt. The heels on her black leather boots made her a little taller than the boy. Her nails were painted a blue that mirrored the blue in the intricate orange, blue, and red beaded necklace that hung around her neck. The two were an arresting sight and Flora realized with a start that sheâd been staring.Â
âAmadeus and Marcela Crow,â said the boy when Flora forced a smile.Â
âCrow Indians?â Flora asked, shaking the hand he offered.Â
âArapaho Indians, Crowâs our last name,â explained the girl.Â
âFlora, Chinese person, last name Wong,â said Flora. She was used to introducing herself to whites as simply Flora Wong, but she had never introduced herself to an American Indian person before. It looked like these two were trying not to laugh, and she felt a stab of embarrassment. What was so funny?Â
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Amadeus and Marcela followed Flora along a flagstone path to the backyard. There were six puppies, not five, and they gamboled about, wrestling and panting, galloping and collapsing, on a well-tended green lawn. Three were chocolate and three were the color Heidi referred to as âbiscotti brownâ, the color her miniature dachshund, Gering, had been. All appeared to have the requisite number of legs, toes and tails, but the darkest puppy, the one whose coat was closest to the color of bittersweet chocolate, had a single, very appealing ice blue eye. Where its companion should have formed, there was merely a depression.Â
The puppy didnât know of his defect, he didnât know he wasnât the most desirable of the litter and he romped over to them, wriggling, giving soft little yips and moans, turning over as Gering used to do, short little legs peddling the air, proudly exposing his private parts.Â
âDoes the blue eye see okay?â asked Marcela.Â
âYes,â said Flora, âit sees fine, but the other puppies are better.âÂ
âWe think our aunt would like this one,â said Amadeus. âHow much for this one?âÂ
Flora was an educated breeder and businesswoman. She was careful when selecting sires for her females, but biology could be fickle, and the occasional defective puppy was euthanized almost immediately. Something about this little dog had bought him some time. He was strong and had a good temperament. She had put off the inevitable far too long and now she had a problem. She didnât want this puppy associated with her breeding stock.Â
âHe is not mine to sell. I board him for a friend,â Flora lied, silently vowing a trip to the vet the next day.Â
The twins looked at each other, and Flora sensed a silent communication between them that left her suddenly longing for her sisters in Hong Kong.Â
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âHe looks like heâs exactly the same age as the other puppies,â said Marcela. She picked the dog up and held him close, breathing in his scent of grass, dirt, and something doughy, like fresh baked bread. He strained his neck to lick as much of her face and hands as she would allow.Â
âBut not for sale unless âŚ.â Flora appeared to consider for a moment. âLet me phone my friend.âÂ
Flora went into the house and came back a few minutes later. âMy friend says âif you really want him, you can have him for two hundred,ââ she said. âHe has no papers. You must neuter him within three months. No puppies from him.âÂ
Amadeus took the puppy from Marcela and immediately held him at armâs length as the little dog peed his delight. Amadeus looked at Flora and said with a grin, âWell, he works anyway.âÂ
They put the puppy on a towel on the backseat, but pulled the car over in less than a mile so Amadeus could scoop him up and hold him on his lap. It was lonely to be a solo puppy on the backseat of a big car.Â
âWhat do you think the name of the friend was?â asked Marcela, and they burst out laughing.Â
âYou know what Heidi would say âŚâ Amadeus said. ââDo not look at the gift horse in its mouth!ââÂ
âYeah, we got a deal,â his sister agreed. âThis little Cocoa Bean is worth four hundred easy.âÂ
Amadeus loosened his seat belt and propped himself against the passenger door, his right knee bent to make a nest for Cocoa Bean. Within minutes, Marcela became the single cognizant occupant of the car. Her brotherâs head nodded, his hair falling over his face, and the puppy nestled in his lap. The comfort of their soft snoring was so sweet, Marcela imagined driving them to a den, perhaps in those rocky cliffs there, the three of them and no others. A tribe of three, two ArapahosÂ
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and their dog, they would be perfect in their isolation. Ama-deus could hunt, they could make fire and burn cones, needles, and sage, fragrant crackling sparks disappearing into an indigo night.Â
She glanced over at her brother, a reminder of how she would appear if she had remained Marcel. The texture of the road was imperceptible through the carâs heavy German engineering, and the steering wheel barely moved. Her right hand was free to seek the comfort of her breasts, rounded and firm, created by her own body in response to five years of hormone therapy, some to block the hormones she made, the more recent ones to supplement the hormones she didnât. The smoothness of her cheeks, her slender neck, her delicate wrists and hands, Aunt Heidi had walked every step of the journey with her, and Amadeus had never wavered.Â
Marcela sighed. It had been a good day. Ten Sleep had seemed smaller, almost pretty in the light of early afternoon. They escaped without seeing anyone they recognized, al-though they had been so young when they had lived there. Neither of them mentioned where they thought their mother had driven off the road, although they had looked as they entered and left town. There was no damaged guardrail, no skid marks. Had there even been a guardrail? Had their mother, Nara, even applied the brakes?Â
The past slipped further away. Theyâd traveled over six hundred miles to bring a dachshund puppy, who saw well with his one ice blue eye, back to Comfrey.Â
Like a calm river with hidden undercurrents, the town of Comfrey, Wyoming imitates a humble Western life while the inner relationships in the town swirl with curiosities, uncertainties, and found families.
As the third installment in the Comfrey, Wyoming series, Maiden Voyage reintroduces its readers to Heidi, Marcela, and Amadeus. Marcela is preparing for her gender-affirming surgery, Amadeus is eager to spread his wings out of the small town, and Heidi continues to offer her special recipe of firm love and loyalty to the twins while working at her restaurant. Supporting characters begin their own developments as wellâ Lucas commits to winning Marcelaâs heart and Amadeus picks up a Shakespeare-quoting friend in San Francisco that follows him through Canada and into Alaska.
Birkmyer writes a comfortably paced and beautifully described story that isnât tedious or redundant. Each character has an organic and natural deposition with believable personalities and flaws.
My favorite aspect of this novel is the consistent presence of the special type of unconditional love that found families curate. Heidi continues to love Marcela and Amadeus through their teenage growing pains even when she isn't their biological mother, Lucas unabashedly exposes his love for Marcela to prove himself worthy of her time, and Amadeus takes a chance on William, a young man from San Francisco who runs away to Wyoming after meeting Amadeus only once. The relationships that develop throughout the novel are unwavering reminders that to love and be loved are the cures to our fears and insecurities. In Maiden Voyage, each character is presented with a moment where instead of letting their doubts and prejudices stop them from connecting with someone, they choose to love and they reach out their hand. This series is full of moments where choosing to love is the solution and this sentiment never gets old.
Like a cup of hot tea after walking in the rain, this series brings comfort that is rejuvenating yet familiar.