The old Bronco stalled out in month seven at the ranch. The Masons replaced it with a brand new Ford double cab in a color called Oxford White. It was so clear it sparkled like it was painted in diamonds. The charity list went on and on, making my head dizzy.
“It’s not that easy to explain, Alex.” He set the white package down on the counter and looked up into the anger growing on my face. I couldn’t hide it.
“Then try. I want to understand,” I said with an even tone. I had him cornered, and I felt some triumph knowing I may finally have an answer to the million-Mason-dollar question.
“Wow!” His hand went up to rub his forehead. It was something he did out of stress. “Sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a sixteen-year-old instead of my little Pumpkin.”
Whose fault is that, I wanted to yell in his face, but stayed calm instead. “I will be eleven in a few weeks, Dad.”
“Ok, well I guess I can try. The way I see, sometimes bad things happen in life. You want the bad part to be taken away. You plead or sometimes pray for a miracle. I don’t know, Pumpkin. I asked so very hard, but it didn’t happen for us. I didn’t understand.” His eyes got a little sad.
“But you know, not all miracles come in the form you ask or even in the way you think they should. It was hard at first for me to understand it, but once I did,” he smiled again. “Things just made sense.”
“I don’t understand, Dad.”
“Well, your mother. It was not good with her. Then everything just seemed to get worse. So I prayed for a miracle. I wanted it so bad. It wasn’t just about losing your mother. I needed her to be healed because I thought everything would be fixed if she was healed. I didn’t know how to do life by myself without her. But no matter how much I asked, it just didn’t seem to happen,” he paused, shaking his head for a second.
“Things got worse. We lost everything. I felt like a failure toward my family. I was angry some, just like you are. I kept asking and my words just seemed to evaporate into thin air. It was day after day of defeat.”
“It took moving to the ranch house to see what I’d been missing. One morning I woke up to the sun shining through the window and I knew. Life is a much bigger picture than just what concerns me. I know we got that miracle I asked for. We got the Masons at the very lowest point in our lives. They stepped in out of the blue and got us back on track. I have an eternal level of gratitude toward that family. You should too.”
Stunned! The letters of the word repeated over and over through the crevices of my brain. My father gave an answer far beyond what I ever could fathom regarding the Masons. Not only did he willingly accept this fate; he embraced it.
“So this miracle to have my mother healed was replaced by the Masons? The miracle was them?” I wasn’t buying this miracle nonsense. The Tanners just gave up and let the Masons take over their lives. It was so frustrating!
I wanted clarity or something that would make me understand why we became reliant on charity. Instead, my father babbled some garbage about miracles that opened up the second line of questions. I didn’t grasp the Masons’ role in our lives.
Why would they continue to bail out this poor family over and over again? Did it make them feel powerful over others? Something they could hold over gutter trash like me? Something they could brag about with their other rich friends?
“Look Pumpkin, the Masons are nice folks. I know Mrs. Mason can be a little harsh at times, but they have good hearts. Actually, they have really big hearts if you would just look at it that way. You even have one of them as your best friend. I don’t question why. It’s not something that is in our control. They came into our lives when we needed them the most. Don’t worry about why they were our miracle. You need to just be thankful they were the miracle and not be angry. Your mother wouldn’t like to see you this way.”
“Well, I guess it’s good she’s dead!” The internal thoughts accidentally slipped out in real words.
“Alexandra!”
I stared back at his face, feeling the impact of my sudden outburst. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I’d caused this to happen tonight. I ruined the amazing evening of the carnival with my ever present struggle over this deep-rooted, grown-up issue. I may sound sixteen, but all I really wanted to be was ten going on eleven.
Turning on my heels, I stomped to my bedroom and slammed the door. A little better, but it wasn’t enough. Opening my closet, I looked around with wild eyes and saw the latest pair of dress sandals, courtesy of Mrs. Mason. I grasped the toe and beat the little shoe into the wood floor. Come on, break!
“Pumpkin, what are you doing in there.”
My shoulders froze, waiting for the door to swing open. I stood up with my arms held high above my head, gripping a patent leather shoe as if it were a weapon. I felt the thud of my heart with each breathe. He could not see me crack. I set the shoe carefully back in the closet and threw a shirt over the wood floor damage. Something I would need to fix later.
“I’m sorry,” I said, cracking open the door.
He didn’t believe me. The reality of being a father and not a mother registered with sadness as he watched through the four-inch slit, not sure if he should extend comfort or punishment. “I know, but I think we should talk about it some more. I don’t think you understand.”
I saw the look of failure in the creases around his eyes. He was worried that I was on the brink of a destructive meltdown. Maybe I was tonight. Instead, I took on the role of comforter to the broken man in front of me. Back to being sixteen.
“I do understand, Dad. I am really sorry for saying it. It won’t happen again. And I’m glad we have the Masons.” He looked back at my face and the reassurance seemed to help. “I’m going to bed now. I’m kind of sick from all the cotton candy.”
“Ok. Good night.” My father reached through the opening and patted the top of my head like I was three.
I shut the door tight. This wasn’t over. He could think whatever he wanted. I would not sit idle and let our debts go unaccounted for to the Masons. I would pay them all back; I just didn’t know when or how, I just knew it would happen. Someday, I would repay every so-called miracle. I would not be a product of charity.
Pulling out a piece of notebook paper, I drew columns down the page with a ruler. I numbered in the left corner and tried to picture the first day I met the Masons and every item that was delivered.
I turned the pencil over and applied the eraser. This list needed to go back even further than the first day in Arlis. I wrote number one as Momma’s Hospital Bills. As Jess had pointed out when we first came to the ranch, the Mason-funded hospice wing was the reason for us even moving to Arlis. My fingers cramped as I printed in tiny letters down the first column. I sat back, reflecting on each item.
I glanced at the film strip from the carnival; our laughing faces side-by-side. My friendship with Jess was a difficult thing for me when it came to the Masons. It was the one thing that had my feelings completely divided. My eyes shifted back, contemplating the items. It needed to be called something. I guess it was pretty simple. I printed the name in large letters across the top of the page for The Mason List.
Chapter 12
When I was ten…
The next Saturday after the carnival, Jess showed up at the farmhouse. He said today was the day for horse riding and refused to take no for answer.
“Are you sure I can touch them?” I looked at the two horses and shuddered. I was a tall girl, but these beasts towered over my head.
“They’re really nice, you just have to give ‘em a chance,” Jess said over his shoulder as he tied the lead rope to the fence. “Here’s some carrots. Feed ‘em to Blue Bonnet.”
“Which one is Blue Bonnet?” I looked back and forth between the two tan horses. Maybe they had name tags like a dog.
“That one’s BB,” Jess said, walking to the other horse. I was surprised he could even stand up straight with the excitement. Once we got here, he’d switched over to pancake
-syrup talk, slurring every syllable into Texas gibberish. I knew me riding horses meant the world to him.
“I think BB is bigger than the other one. Maybe I should get the smaller one.” It was only a few inches but a few inches seemed a little less terrifying at the moment.
“No, you don’t want to ride Clive. You need BB. Here, take the carrots and feed her one. Like this.”
My eyes grew wide as I watched Jess shove the carrot into Clive’s mouth. I didn’t know horses had such big teeth. Jess moved his hand up Clive’s neck to scratch behind his pointed ears. I knew Jess loved his horses. He desperately wanted to share his pretty animals with me.
Looking at BB’s silky hair, I reached up to touch her neck. She lunged forward, and I screamed. BB knocked the carrot from my hand to the ground. Her big teeth scooped it up. The horse chewed with her big brown eyes fixed on me.
“What are ya’ll doin’ back there?”
“I’m not going up. I can’t even feed the carrots right.”
“You’re goin’ up. Stop chickenin’ out! You said you would do it!”
We stared at each other for a few moments. I took a deep breath and offered a compromise. “Fine, but I’m only sitting on her. No walking. Just sitting tied to the fence. Promise?” I needed a firm understanding with that boy before I ever got on top of his horse. I knew how he worked.
“Promise,” he said with a grin.
After several attempts to boost me up, Jess finally got my behind on top of BB. Jess climbed up on Clive. He leaned over and untied them both from the fence.
“Hey! What are you doing?” BB followed along behind Clive. My fingers trembled, clenching the rein in one hand and the saddle in the other.
“You’ll be fine! We can just go down the fence row!” Jess yelled back.
“You promised!” I was so angry but too scared to say anything else. I managed a few deep breaths and let them out slowly through my mouth. Each step jarred me sideways a little in the saddle. My thighs clung to the horse.
We traveled at a steady pace in a single line down the fence. Maybe Jess was right. I was doing ok. I wasn’t upside down on my head. Feeling brave, I glanced around the fence. It was a different experience than a four-wheeler. So peaceful and quiet.
I released my tightly-clenched hand from the saddle and patted BB’s neck. Her hair felt really soft against my palm. I calmly stroked her until suddenly, a loud yapping came from my right. One of the cattle dogs chased a small orange cat around the stables then through the grass directly toward us. I felt BB move faster and then like a flick of a switch, she broke off from the fence row and out toward the meadow.
I screamed and yelled. I grabbed a hold of anything my hands could grasp as I bounced along on top of BB. My screams got lost in the wind and the barns faded from view. The trees and grass flew by in a blur as the horse continued to gain speed. In the distance, I saw a fallen tree directly in our path. I panicked and felt the horse go airborne. She cleared the massive tree trunk, but I couldn’t stay in the saddle.
I hit the ground with a hard slam that sent my body rolling for several feet. Everything hurt and I couldn’t catch my breath. I wanted to scream but nothing came out. I thrashed around on my back, trying to breathe. I heard the sound of pounding hooves.
No! BB was coming back to trample me. As I tried to move away, I saw Jess ride up on Clive. He jumped off and ran toward me.
“A…lex…a…are you ok?” He was out of breath and his words came out in spats. Leaning over, his black hair flopped into his blue eyes. “I don’t know…what…happened.”
“I’m… going to… kill you!” I tried to rise up and throw a swing at Jess. My left foot gave out, and I crashed back onto the ground.
“Alex, you have to calm down.”
“This is all your fault!”
“No, Alex. Be still.”
“Jess!” I snapped with anger.
“There’s a snake.” His voice remained steady while his blue eyes darted to the left again. I looked over my shoulder to see the tan and dark brown shape about a yard from my hand. The tail rattled just a little, sending prickly fear down my spine.
“What do I do?” I whispered through clenched teeth.
“I wish I had my gun. It’ll take too long to go get it,” Jess whispered back.
Since moving to the ranch, I had listened to numerous tall tales involving rattlers. Right in that terrifying moment, I recalled the photographs Davey Rawlins had brought to school of his uncle’s foot half-rotted off from a snake bite. Davey said it struck his Uncle Skeeter straight through his boot.
The images spread fear through my body. It would hurt as the snake sunk the sharp fangs into my skin. The venom would burn as it ate away the tissue and then my hand would gradually fall off. Very simple.
“Alex, you listenin’?” His voice sounded like a hiss. Beads of perspiration dripped down the front of my pale, clammy face. I saw his eyes move to the snake then back to me.
“I’m gonna move in slowly to the left. Then I’ll toss a rock over in the other direction as a distraction then pull you real hard. You gotta push off with your good foot. We only got one shot at this.”
“It might bite me,” I whispered.
“Yup.”
“But…”
“Let’s go,” he whispered, giving me no time to think any more.
Jess tossed a baseball-sized stone in the opposite direction and then yanked my arm, pulling me up from the ground. In the dusty air, the sound of rattles played like background music. His body held me up, dragging me along to keep the weight off my throbbing ankle. For several yards, we stumbled through sage bushes and vines cursed with thorns. The sharp spikes dug into the legs of my denim jeans.
“Are you sure it’s gone?” I peered through the grass for signs of the scaly body.
“I think he went the other way when I threw the rock.”
“You think?”
“No. I’m sure.” Jess lowered us both to the ground. The muscles in my legs felt like Jell-O.
“That was really scary.”
“I know. I ain’t ever been that close to one without a gun.” I watched his grungy fingers push the hair off his forehead.
“You saved my hand from rotting off.”
“Your hand was gonna rot off?” his eyebrows scrunched up in a frown.
“Never mind. I just wanted to say thank you.”
Jess looked at me for a moment then shrugged. “It’s no big deal. Friends have each other’s backs. I’ll always have your back and you’ll always have mine.”
“Always? That’s like forever. How do you know we will be friends forever?”
“I just do.”
“You do?” I looked over at him in disbelief. He had no control over the future. I knew first-hand how life changed faster than the flash of a hummingbird wing. One moment you’re playing Barbies, and the next your mother is dying while you eat moldy sandwiches.
“If you don’t believe me, then we should swear on it. Then it ain’t gonna change.”
“I don’t think swearing will make a difference.”
“Alright. A blood pact,” his famous grin widened across his face.
“Are you crazy?” Maybe that rattler got in a strike and the venom was eating away at his brain.
“Nah, that’s what they used to do. You know, Cowboys and Indians and stuff.”
Jess pulled a small pocket knife from the left side of his Wranglers. He flipped out a blade roughly three inches in length. With a quick slice, red bubbled from the small opening in his palm.
“Stick out your hand.” Jess grabbed my right hand in a tight grasp.
“I am not letting you cut me on purpose.”
“Just a nick. Then we seal it with a shake. Trust me.”
“Trust you. Really,” I rolled my eyes. This boy was so unbelievable.
“I won’t hurt ya.”
“Ok. But I’m not watching.”
With my head turned to the right, I let Jes
s Mason slice across the lines of my hand. The pain was the same as a paper cut. I unclenched my eyes to see a streak the color of deep crimson run to my pinky finger. Jess wiped the knife across the knee of his jeans then snapped it shut.
“Ok. You ready?”
I nodded in agreement. Jess mashed the inside of my palm in a tight handshake, mixing the blood and dirt together.
“I promise we always will be friends and have each other’s backs. No matter what. Even when we have no teeth and no hair.”
“No teeth or hair? I will never have no teeth or hair.”
“Alex! Just swear, ok?”
I watched the serious blue eyes of a ten-year-old boy waiting for my answer. Forever was a very long time to promise loyalty. I smiled as I thought about the last two years. I had numerous issues with the Mason family, but I’d never felt anything like I did when I was with Jess.
I saw the picture he painted with Jess bald and toothless, except I had long red hair and perfect white teeth. It was a fantasy that would never happen in the reality of our world, yet I looked into his grinning face and longed for it to be true. Maybe the act of speaking words sworn in blood could cement this pact into cosmic existence.
“I promise we will always be friends and have each other’s backs, no matter what.” I gave his hand a little squeeze to seal the deal. Dabbing my hand against my denim jeans, the cut left dark traces on the fabric.
“Now I’ve got your complete sworn trust,” Jess arched his eyebrows up with a mischievous smile, “I’m gonna help you get up.”
“Why do you need my trust?”
“Because we gotta get you up there,” Jess motioned to Clive.
“Oh no! No. I am not doing it.” There was no way I would get back up on one of those things.
“We don’t got no choice. You can’t walk back and we can’t just sit because the rattler’s over there.”
The Mason List Page 6
