The Great Unexpected

“Joe, my guardian and a man of few words, once said about Lizzie, ‘That girl could talk the ears off a cornfield.’”

This line embodies Joe’s sense of humor and helps to illuminate his character, who doesn’t talk or appear in the text often. Naomi highlights his humor by sharing his use of a pun to describe Lizzie’s garrulousness. Lizzie is so talkative, he says, that she could talk the ears off a cornfield, which would have thousands and thousands of ears of corn growing in it. The pun plays on the two meanings of the word “ear”—the first being what we use to listen and the second being an “ear” of corn. It’s a corny joke, but it typifies Joe.

“I suppose the only thing I wanted beyond [someone to care for and feed me] was that it wouldn’t be my fault. What ‘it’ was, I couldn’t say. But ‘it’ was usually bad and always unexpected.”

This line depicts how significantly Naomi’s fear of the unexpected pervades her consciousness, even as a very young child. Though she cannot even name whatever “it” is that she fears, the line shows how much she has subconsciously internalized a sense of responsibility for things that go wrong, like the blood clot that developed during her mother’s pregnancy and the dog attack that resulted in her father’s death.

“First there’s the Finn boy dropping out of nowhere, and now there’s a Dangle Doodle man. Maybe next we will get a kangaroo hopping down the road. It’s like The Great Unexpected.”

Lizzie’s reference to the book on the girls’ summer reading list that shares the same name as the book in which Lizzie and Naomi are characters is a mind-bending metafictional moment that draws attention to the nature of the story the reader peruses while also suggesting that Lizzie and Naomi are real readers of real stories as well. The irony of Lizzie referring to a text by the same name as the book in which she is a character suggests that the line between story and life is more flexible than it may seem.

“I was embarrassed for being such a drip over a boy. I was glad no one could see into my head.”

This statement is ironic, given that the story is told from Naomi’s point of view—using first-person objective narration—which means, precisely, that the reader does know what’s going on inside Naomi’s head. This is yet another way in which the line between story and reality is blurred.

“You shouldn’t call old Mrs. Wiggins a witch, Naomi, even if she does have that warty nose and earsplitting cackle and even if she does seem to affect the electricity in town.”

Though Nula acknowledges three witchy qualities of Hazel Wiggins—most compellingly, the old woman’s ability to affect the town’s power—she tells Naomi not to call her a witch. This is emblematic of the way characters like witches—or fairies, or spirits—are considered fantastic rather than real in Blackbird Tree. Despite evidence that Hazel has supernatural power, Nula tries to stop Naomi from thinking of the woman in this way because Naomi is old enough to know better.

“One of my worries about the trunks in the barn was that they would be like my worst fears about the donkey’s ears: instead of something good coming out of them, we might pull out something bad.”

This line alludes to the donkey story from the Prologue, but her fear also shares a connection to other stories, such as the Greek myth of Pandora’s box or the modern classic, “In a Dark, Dark, Room,” in which terrible things do come flying out of trunks or boxes. Naomi’s fear that reality could mirror her worst fears, related to a story shows how completely her anxieties dominate her thinking. Rather than hope for lovely mementos of her departed parents, she dreads what horrors could be lurking inside.

“You’re a useless wreck of a man and you don’t deserve even the dust that lies on that trunk.”

Sybil Kavanagh berates Paddy McCoul, who has come for his son’s trunk. Her judgment that he doesn’t deserve even the dust on Finn’s trunk highlights another example of good fortune being ushered in by bad. Paddy McCoul hurt Sybil and Nula, so much so that Sybil is bent on revenge; however, Paddy’s involvement in their lives led to them knowing and loving his son, Finn. Finn becomes instrumental in Naomi’s developing understanding of life’s inclusion of both the good and bad.

“Finn was floating toward me. Truly, I think he floated on the air.”

Finn’s existence as a spirit and not as a living boy, despite appearances, is subtly foreshadowed a number of times in the text. This selection is one such example. One might assume that Naomi only thinks he seems to float because of her romantic feelings for him, but the fact that he’s a spirit helps to account for how he moves, the fact that Nula never sees him, and Naomi’s inability to hear him coming.

“My brain was shut down. It felt as if a fungus had infiltrated every little convoluted corner.”

Naomi’s fear of the unexpected prompts her to worry that Finn likes Lizzie better than her, and her jealousy of her best friend is represented in this simile. Jealousy is compared to a fungus in Naomi’s brain, as it overwhelms her knowledge of Lizzie’s loyalty and honesty, potentially harming their relationship and clouding Naomi’s judgment if not excised.

“‘Tomorrow,’ Nula said, ‘is tomorrow.’”

Nula tells Naomi that they have enough food and money for today, but she suggests that it is impossible to know what tomorrow will bring. Such an insinuation seems to confirm Naomi’s fear that tomorrow could usher in circumstances terrible enough that she could be sent away, as Nula was, though Nula does not intend this meaning. Though she has no evidence to suggest that Nula and Joe would want to send her away, Naomi still anticipates the possibility as a result of her own string of tragedies.

“‘But what is “a story”? It’s in here now’—I tapped my head—‘with all the other stuff, so maybe everything is a story.’”

Naomi, as a young child, questions the nature of reality and stories before she is taught that they are separate and that one cannot be the other. Nula tries to convince Naomi that stories and just stories because accepting “reality” is part of growing up in Blackbird Tree. Notably, Naomi is happier when she believes that she can be and have anything and grows more anxious as she is taught that she cannot.

“I wondered why people had made such a fuss about the stranger Dangle Doodle but no one had mentioned the stranger boy Finn yet.”

This is another example of foreshadowing that hints at Finn’s appearance as a spirit. Town gossips are very aware of Mr. Dingle’s presence, though he’s been in town less time than Finn, and Finn has evidently walked all over the community. It is possible that he can only be seen by Naomi and Lizzie—who are connected to Rooks Orchard via Nula, Sybil, and Miss Pilpenny—because he is never seen interacting with anyone besides the two of them.

“There he was […] with the morning light behind him, giving him a white-light halo all around his whole self. I didn’t know how he got as far as the barn without the chickens raising a ruckus.”

Naomi compares the sunlight behind Finn to a “halo,” a metaphor that hints at her feelings for him and foreshadows the revelation of his death. To her, he seems saintly and perfect; however, halos are often depicted as features of the dead as well, especially those who were good in life. Further, Finn’s ability to pass the chickens without setting them off is another indication that he can only be seen by certain people or that he can simply appear wherever he wants, thereby bypassing the chickens altogether.

“Mine is not a story that can be repeated too often. Not only did it seem too heavy to drag out, but I felt as if I did not have all the pieces of it, that I would not be able to tell my story until I was an old lady.”

Though Nula and Joe attempt to stop Naomi from conflating her life with stories, the idea persists, suggesting the Compatibility of Reality and Fantasy, despite the teachings of communities like Blackbird Tree, where reality is thought of as separate from fantasy. It also foreshadows the big changes that are about to befall Naomi and her circle, including Joe’s death, which occurs in the very next chapter.

“Not ever’body has the same advantages as you.”

Bo Dimmens speaks to Naomi after Joe’s funeral service. When he calls her ignorant, she retorts that she didn’t flunk two grades. She doesn’t feel like she’s had advantages; after all, she has two dead parents and a mangled arm. Naomi still doesn’t realize her good fortune, that she has guardians who love and care for her, apparently unlike Bo, whose parents must be less present and caring; she sees only the bad.

“You don’t even know that it was my dog that et up your arm and your daddy. You don’t even know that you was so stupid as to whack that dog with a stick in the first place.”

This revelation helps to explain Naomi’s fear of being “at fault” for the unexpected tragedies in her life. If she hit the dog with a stick, prompting it to attack her and compelling her father to intervene, which led to the dog biting him and his subsequent development of an infection, then Naomi is—in a very indirect way—responsible. This fact seems like something else from which Joe and Nula tried to protect her and another piece of good fortune that she has not recognized.

“I just cannot believe this, Naomi. It’s like—it’s like—the universe spun us together on purpose.”

When the girls find a picture of Naomi in the hospital, being nursed by Lizzie’s mother, this connects the two of them in a way that brings Lizzie a great deal of peace. She is convinced that her mother saved Naomi’s life, and this gives Lizzie a much greater sense of connection to Naomi, even at the moment when she feels so alone. The link between them seems so coincidental—though it really isn’t—that it thrills Lizzie and gives her a sense that their experiences are purposeful and, therefore, right, even when they hurt.

“I had big thoughts to match the big wind. I wondered if things that might seem frightening could lose their hold over you. I wondered if we find the people we need when we need them. I wondered if we attract our future by some sort of invisible force, or if we are drawn to it by a similar force. I felt I was turning a corner and that change was afoot.”

After Naomi learns how Mr. Farley got the pair of iron rooks, she begins to piece together the ways in which people in her life, or those who are linked to her, are connected. This process helps her to feel, as Lizzie does when they find the picture of Naomi with Lizzie’s mother, that such connections are purposeful, though sometimes hidden, and that they influence one’s future in ways that can be mysterious but, perhaps, for the good.

“Lizzie and I stared at each other. Real or not real?”

In Rooks Orchard, so many events seem like they ought to be outside the realm of reality, as the girls have been taught to know it. Evil spirit-tricking bridges, fairy rings, and the unbelievably good fortune of inheriting the estate cross the boundary from things they thought impossible to things that are actually happening. This is part of the nature of reality in Rooks Orchard, where adults are happy to admit a much greater number of possibilities than in Blackbird Tree.

“It is therefore Sybil’s revenge on the wretched Master Kavanagh and on the wretched Finn that women and girls will be running the estate and inheriting it.”

In another moment of irony, Sybil’s revenge is not an eye-for-an-eye kind of retribution but, rather, one that actually benefits a great many people, including Naomi and Lizzie. Sybil’s motives have been one of the biggest mysteries in the text—who Sybil sought to punish and how—and it is solved in an unexpected way, especially given the ominous connotation of the word “revenge.” Though she seems so commanding, Sybil turns out to be very generous and loving, and she masterminds a clever plan, similar to Finn’s wife, Oonagh, in the legend of Finn McCoul.

“Maybe sudden change of any kind—even unexpected good fortune—jolts your world.”

Naomi comes to this realization after the reading of Sybil’s will. It is strange to her that something so unexpected could be so good rather than tragic, as she’s believed unexpected events to be for so long. She can recognize her advantages now; something she wasn’t able to do back in Blackbird Tree when she spoke to Bo after Joe’s funeral. Capitulating to the idea that good things can occur without warning is a big step, as is accepting that good fortune, as Naomi must if she is to keep Rooks Orchard.

“It seemed that everything and anything was possible. […] When I came down from the roof, Nula was standing on the balcony. ‘Naomi,’ she said. ‘It’s okay to accept good fortune.’”

Though this is a lesson Nula has to learn as well, hearing this seems to exonerate Naomi from being “at fault” for whatever bad fortune has befallen her. Even if she played a part, however indirectly, in her parents’ deaths, Nula teaches her that she can still accept the good things that happen to her. Being “to blame” for something, especially when that responsibility was so unintentional and indirect, does not mean that a person never deserves goodness again. This reassurance seems to allow Naomi to move on, past her guilt, so that she can agree to the terms of Sybil’s will.

“Did a delicate cobweb link us all, silky lines trailing through the air?”

Upon learning of the multitude of relationships that link her and Lizzie’s mother and Naomi’s mother and Mr. Farley, Paddy McCoul and Naomi’s Finn, as well as the parallel friendships between Sybil and Miss Pilpenny, Mary and Margaret, and Naomi and Lizzie themselves—not to mention Cora and Dora Capolini and Thomas and Michael Canner—this rhetorical question can only be answered with a resounding “Yes!” Though the connections might seem tenuous, their strength is emphasized by the metaphor that compares them to a spider’s web. Though spider silk is thin, it is incredibly strong. This metaphor also emphasizes The Interconnectedness of Lives across oceans, cities, and even death.