What we have here is a historical-environmentalist fable set in Wisconsin as it was in 1871, before the extinction of the passenger pigeon. What we also have is a whodunit mystery, precipitated by the disappearance of a young lady and later discovery of a decomposing corpse wearing her clothes. The pursuit of higher education motivates her departure, so our story could be a proto-feminist parable, but since its physical activities revolve around the search for the missing girl by her younger sister, who refuses to believe that her sibling is dead, perhaps it's a coming-of-age lesson as well? Oh, and did I mention that her quest includes a falling-out with criminals, raising the possibility that what we've come to see is really an action-adventure odyssey?
Surprisingly, none of these potentially conflicting labels produce the taxonomic dissonance you'd expect of multiple themes. It might be true that—although not specifically targeted for the Youth market—Amy Timberlake's novel operates on so many different levels as to require the panoramic perspective of tweens to fully comprehend it in a single viewing, but adults who have not yet succumbed to the tunnel vision mandating predigested fare for their imaginations will find much to enjoy in Jessica Wright Buha's page-to-stage adaptation of One Came Home for Lifeline Theater. After all, this is the company whose specialty is fitting sprawling narratives to modern attention spans.
In the foreground of Timberlake's saga is Georgie Burkhardt, whose pre-teen world in the town of Placid is bounded by doing chores in her grandfather's store, shooting pigeons for family suppers and the companionship of her gentle sister, Agatha. When the order of this universe is disrupted by the latter's unexplained absence, Georgie vows to restore it, setting out on mule-back, accompanied by neighboring big-brotherly Billy. As they scour the landscape for clues, Georgie comes face to face with the conceptual complexities surrounding death, marriage and greed—experiences preparing her for the changes that will greet her upon her return home.
Under Elise Kauzlaric's direction, Ashley Darger, Jeff Kurysz, Miriam Reuter and Amanda Jane Long prove as deft at projecting 19th-century adolescent exuberance as Errol McLendon, Patrick Blashill, Heather Currie and Dan Granata at conveying their elders' frontier-hardened strength. John Szymanski's acoustical string-band music, Diane D. Fairchild's delicate winter-sunshine lighting and Alan Donahue's brittle prairie vegetation create an atmosphere of pastoral enchantment. The real stars of the show, however, are the flocks of pigeons whose free flight—replicated by Julie Taymor-style wire-rod puppets—cannot help but awaken in us a nostalgia for a mythical past now forever lost.
