Beth turns the laptop so she can wink at me. “I have my ways.”
I am now even more curious what our rooms are going to look like. Matt’s room is, not too surprisingly, decorated entirely with soccer stuff. There’s soccer-ball wallpaper, pictures of famous players on the walls, even soccer-ball pillows. Matt starts jumping up and down, clapping his hands. “You knew I like soccer! How’d you know?” he shouts.
I was worried about how he’d take the news that we wouldn’t be sharing a room anymore, but it looks like he’s going to be just fine on his own.
Beth moves the computer out of Matt’s room and points it down the hallway as we walk. “That’s the bathroom, that’s the guest room….” She stops at the last door in hallway. “Dusty, Jack and I weren’t sure where you’d want to live, but Jack said teenage boys like their space, so we thought we’d give you that tower room. What do you think?”
Space? What did I need with space? And the tower room? Was it going to be far away from everyone else? “I don’t really care,” I mutter.
“We’ll just see if you like it, then.” She pulls open a door, and then the computer’s heading up a winding flight of stairs. It seems darker than the rest of the house, but at the top of the stairs light streams in from the windows that circle a bed, small desk, dark bureau, and armchair. There isn’t any special wallpaper or anything, though. The room is painted a light blue, with dark-blue trim. It’s okay.
Beth’s talking again. “I couldn’t seem to find out what your favorite color was. So I figured, blue?”
I don’t say anything, and Beth turns the laptop again. This time I can see her and Jack.
“You know,” Beth starts slowly, “this room used to belong to your mother.”
Julia gasps with delight. “Mom lived there?”
“Of course. This was your grandparents’ house. Jack thought one of you might want your mom’s old room…. Of course, it wasn’t always blue.”
I don’t have anything else to say, so I decide to go with the obvious. “Thanks.”
Chapter 3
FOUR YEARS Earlier
“Dusty, where’s Mom?”
Dusty woke to find Matt staring at him. “What do you mean, Matt?”
“I want breakfast. She’s not in bed.”
Dusty tried to shake the sleep from his eyes. “What are you talking about, Matt?”
Matt threw off Dusty’s covers and grabbed his hand, frustrated. “I mean she’s not in bed! I can’t find her.”
Uh-oh. Their mom had gone out with a friend the night before, promising Dusty she’d be home no later than midnight. Dusty had tried to stay up to wait for her, but he’d fallen asleep around one thirty.
Lately, their mom had been having more and more of her “moods.” Twice that week Dusty had taken Matt and Julia to daycare himself because their mother wouldn’t get out of bed. She even lost another job.
Dusty followed Matt to their mother’s bedroom which, sure enough, was empty. “Uh…. I bet she just stayed out too late and decided to sleep over at Aunt Sammy’s, Matt.” Dusty winced at Sammy’s name. He actually hated calling the woman his aunt. She was too loud and always patted Dusty on the head when she saw him. He hated that. Still, Mom insisted they call her Aunt Sammy.
Matt started to pout, and Dusty could hear Julia yelling from the next room. “Mommy!”
Okay, Dusty thought, I can do this. Get them some cereal, get them to the daycare. No big deal.
As long as Mom was home by the time they got home from school that afternoon, it wouldn’t be a big deal at all.
“DUSTY, MY ears feel weird.”
I pull a piece of Juicy Fruit out of my pocket and hand it to Matt. “Here, chew this.”
He pops it into his mouth and leans back into his seat. “That’s better,” he says through the gum. “Hey, why’d that work?”
I smile. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo. Read a book until you can play that Game Boy Jack gave you.” Any other time, I’d probably enjoy explaining altitude pressure and all that stuff to him, but right now I have too much other stuff on my mind. Julia fell asleep across my lap before takeoff, or no doubt she’d still be asking questions too. The last few hours have been nothing but “When are we getting to Beth’s house? How are we getting there again?”
It’s pretty obvious Jack and Beth have already won her over. They’ve come out to see us in Colorado Springs since we first talked to them on the computer, and Julia can’t seem to get enough of them. Matt’s pretty much in too at this point—Jack’s got him all excited about playing soccer there, and I’m sure the Game Boy helped. Jack and Beth have both spent a lot of time asking what I’m into, but I just responded with a whole lot of shrugging. I’m not falling for that. The kids may be too young to recognize bribery, but I’m not. At some point Barbara caved and told them I really like skateboarding, but when they asked me about it, I told them I don’t skateboard anymore.
It’s not totally a lie. I haven’t skateboarded since Race and I stopped talking to each other after that fight in the hospital.
And believe me, it’s not easy to stay not speaking to someone you’re staying in the same house with. Barbara tried a bunch of times to get us talking again, but neither of us was having it.
I sigh, running everything that’s happened in the past few weeks over in my head. Jack and Beth are definitely nice enough, but the fact that they’ve been decent doesn’t make me want to move to Vermont any more than I used to. I’m really glad we’re doing this trip on our own. They offered to fly back out again to “bring us home,” as Beth put it, but I asked if we could just fly out there by ourselves. I wanted one last chance for it to be the three of us, I guess.
I went through five or six drafts of plans to run away with the kids and bring them to see Dad before I finally realized that wasn’t going to get me anything except maybe time in juvie. Dad was the problem here, not the solution. He’d been right there in Colorado Springs, a bus ride away from stopping this plane trip, and I hadn’t even been able to convince him to come see his daughter in the hospital. It would be a tough contest who I hate more right now: Dad, or the entire social services department of the state of Colorado.
Or Mom. The woman hasn’t even bothered to show her face in the weeks since Julia got out of the hospital. Knowing Mom, she probably heard what was going on with us and made herself scarce rather than risk getting arrested. I haven’t been all that surprised; by now I’ve gotten pretty used to being sold out by my own parents.
But even if I’m not really going to miss them, there are plenty of things I’m sorry to say good-bye to. Prescott, the school I’d been going to for the last ten years. Friends (besides Race) that I’ve known since I was five, even if I’ve never known them all that well. Pikes Peak too. I shake my head, like I’m trying to get the memories of the Springs to fall out of my head or something. Even though I know you can’t really do that, I’m pretty sure I have to try to put Colorado behind me. No use lingering over things you’re leaving behind. As we’d left Colorado, the Front Range Mountains had stared me down through the window of the airport. I’d realized then that home is mostly the scenery you know and the people who matter to you. Leaving them both at the same time can be treacherous if you dwell on it too long.
The man next to me starts shifting in his seat uncomfortably, so I move Julia around in my lap to give him a little more room. They sure don’t give you a heck of a lot of space in economy class.
“Thanks,” he nods, adjusting his tie. He’s a young black guy, tall, and he looks all business in a gray suit and shiny shoes. His tie has some diamond-looking pattern on it. “Those your brother and sister?” he asks, gesturing toward Matt and Jules.
We’ve reached cruising altitude, and Matt is totally engrossed in his video game. At least he’s plugged headphones into it so the beeping won’t bug the other passengers. Jules is still completely unconscious. “Yeah. They’re usually a lot more… aware of what’s going on, though.”
He chuckles at that. “Bet it’ll make your flight a lot easier. Are you traveling alone?”
I stare at the seat in front of me. “Yeah, we are. We’re going to see our aunt and uncle.”
“They live in New York?”
I’d forgotten that’s where our stopover is. “Nah, upstate Vermont. Are you from New York?” I glance over at him.
“Brooklyn all the way.” He smiles. I thought his accent sounded funny. “I was just at a conference in Colorado Springs. It’s got some impressive views. Is that where you live?”
The guy has no idea what a loaded question he’s just asked. Suddenly I’m sorry I ever started a conversation with him. “Yeah,” I mumble. “At least, we used to. Maybe not anymore.”
He must realize that isn’t the best question to ask, because he doesn’t say anything for a few minutes after that. I’m more than happy to end the conversation on that note and go back to staring stupidly at the seat in front of me, but at some point he clears his throat and starts speaking again.
“You know,” he says quietly, “I actually grew up with my aunt and uncle.”
This is already starting to sound suspiciously like one of those “I got through it and you’ll get through it too” pep talks adults like to give. I definitely am not in the mood for one of those, and I don’t even know this guy. “So?” I say nastily.
He just shrugs. I guess you can’t throw a guy from Brooklyn off that easily. “So it sucked for awhile.” He looks me in the eye. “But it always sucked less than living with my mom.”
I glance over Julia and Matt to make sure they aren’t listening to any of this. Jules is still out, and Matt is still living in his new Game Boy. I decide to be blunt. “What was wrong with your mom?”
“Oh, she just loved heroin a little too much. My aunt decided to take me off her hands.”
Is this guy being honest? Do people lie about that kind of stuff? “Does that mean I’m supposed to tell you what’s wrong with my parents?”
He smirks. “Doesn’t mean anything, except that’s the story. I could care less what you tell me.”
I believe him, and I suddenly I don’t care either. What does it matter? Matt and Julia aren’t listening, and I’ll probably never see this guy again as long as I live. “Our dad’s messed up on drugs too, I think. He’s gone a lot. Our mom’s gone pretty often too. Maybe doing drugs. I don’t know.”
“But your aunt and uncle want you to live with them. Are you okay with that?”
I choke on my gum. “You’re pretty nosy, you know that?”
“Hey, I just ask questions. I travel a lot, and flights get boring with no one to talk to. You don’t have to answer anything.”
I wait about a minute before I decide to answer. “It just bugs me, you know? What’s Vermont like? I’ve never been there. I never even knew I had an aunt and uncle.” I pause. “You know, I have dreams of my mom showing up to drag the kids and me out of this mess. She always looks surprised in the dream. ‘I wasn’t arrested. Don’t be silly, Dusty,’ she always says. They’re just dreams, though. I know it’s stupid.”
“Just your mom? You don’t dream about your dad doing that?”
I scowled at the seat. “Guess not,” I mutter.
“You do want to be back with your mom, then.”
I snort incredulously. “Not really. That woman’s a basket case, and I can’t really stand her either. But if she was around again, things would go back to the way they used to be. When my parents weren’t around, I always took care of them”—I gesture toward Matt and Julia—“just fine. We don’t need these relatives. I can handle my brother and sister just fine.”
“What do they think of the whole thing?” The guy, whose name I have just realized I still don’t know, glances over at Jules and Matt.
“They’re okay with it,” I say begrudgingly.
“Really? They won’t miss your parents at all?” The guy is talking again.
“Nah. I guess….” I think about how excited Julia has been to have Beth cooing over her and buying her dolls, and I stare wistfully at her blond hair; it’s right from our mom. “There isn’t much for them to miss.”
“If it helps….” I don’t think it will, but I let the guy go on. “I had a little brother, too. Only he and I were really close to the same age, and neither of us wanted to live anywhere without our mom. We hated our aunt and uncle for about a year. Then….”
“What?” Maybe he’ll say his mom got her act together and came to rescue them.
“I started to really like it.” He crosses his arms and looks me in the eye again. “I liked having someone to cook dinner. Do the laundry. Come to my parent conferences at school. Listen to me when I had a good day, or a bad day… or any day.”
That isn’t what I expected—or wanted—to hear. “Maybe. Still, I can do all that for my brother and sister. I do now anyway.”
“Well, sure,” he replies, “but who does it for you?”
That startles me, and it takes me a minute to respond. “I don’t need anyone to do that for me. I’m just fine, thanks.” I’m being sarcastic, but I don’t care.
He glances me up and down. “How old are you? Thirteen?”
“Fourteen. Almost fifteen.”
He shakes his head. “Just my age,” I hear him mumble. “Well, kid, whatever you want to believe. But I think you just might change your mind.” He hands me a business card. It says JED DAVIES: PUBLIC RELATIONS on it in large letters. “My name’s Jed Davies. That’s my cell phone on there.”
“Why are you giving me this?” I ask, probably a little snottily.
He shrugs. “You know, I have no idea. I just think I’d like to see how this whole thing works out for you.”
I shove the card into my pocket, fully intending to toss it in the first trash can I see, and we don’t talk the rest of the flight. Every now and then Jed looks over at us and smiles and shakes his head, but I don’t care what he does or thinks. What does he know? Just because things worked out for him, what makes him think they’ll work out for us?
I spend the rest of the flight tensely watching the TV screen hanging from the ceiling of the airplane, wondering what Beth and Jack will be like. Not that it will matter much to me anyway. I know I don’t need them, even if everybody else seems to think I do.
We switch planes in New York. Julia is barely conscious through the whole thing, and Matt only turns his video game off long enough for landing and the new takeoff. Jed nods to me as we step off the plane, but neither of us says good-bye. Julia instantly goes back to sleep on our new flight and finally wakes up as the plane touches ground in Burlington, Vermont, which gives me an odd feeling of relief. A pressure is suddenly sitting in my chest, and it isn’t from the change in altitude. I’m glad I don’t have to spend time coaxing Jules awake.
As the aisle of the plane fills with travelers anxious to get off, I pull our heavy jackets out of the overhead compartment and help Julia into hers. It is mid-October, and Jack has told us over and over again it will already be very cold in Northern Vermont, even colder than Colorado Springs. He and Beth took us shopping for better winter stuff on their last visit.
The airport is pretty small, and there is no tunnel connecting the plane to the airport, so the kids and I walk down the airplane steps and onto the landing strip. Jack was right; it is colder here. I mean, Colorado Springs isn’t exactly summer all year round. Still, this cold is different somehow… more biting. It chills me straight through, something the cold in Colorado Springs never quite did. I check to make sure Matt and Julia have their jackets zipped, and we follow the crowd of passengers into the airport, where waiting friends and family are lined up behind a bar separating incoming passengers from the airport lobby.
I glance right to left, and of course Beth and Jack are right there waiting for us. Jack pulls Julia up into his arms for a hug before passing her to Beth, and Matt easily lets them both gather him against their legs for hugs as well. Jack just reaches out to sha
ke my hand. The last time they left he tried to hug me, and I stepped away. Looks like he’s not trying again.
After we get our luggage off the turnstile and begin to head through the airport, Julia starts to lag back a little. I pull the backpack off my back and lean down so I can give her a piggyback ride. She’s starting to climb on when Jack sweeps her up to carry her. “I’ve got her, Dusty. You must be exhausted.” Beth is holding onto Matt’s hand, so I drop back behind them as we finish the walk out of the airport.
Outside, the wet, frigid air brushes around us again, and I shiver even though I’m trying not to. I look around me for the first time, and I’m surprised to find mountains rolling their way around the scenery, in every shade of orange and yellow and red you can possibly imagine. They’re nothing like the mountains in Colorado Springs. Those are tall and intimidating, and they start and stop abruptly. These are shorter, more approachable, but they seem to go on forever. I wonder where they end up, and if anybody like Zeb Pike has ever tried to climb them and failed. Unlikely. These mountains are much shorter than Pikes Peak; good old Zeb could have conquered one of them easily.
The ride from Burlington to Danville takes about forty minutes. I kind of listen to Beth tell us about what we’re driving past, which seem to range from covered bridges to small stores to one of the only two malls in half the state. Nothing very exciting. The entire landscape is wrapped in those same bright oranges and yellows I first noticed, and anything that isn’t, like the grass, is a sort of mud-brown color. Lots of trees have already lost their leaves, and they look pretty dank and depressing. The sky is a dark gray, and Jack and Beth both mention that it might snow any day now. “It often snows before Halloween,” Beth adds.
“It does that in Colorado sometimes too,” Matt puts in from the backseat.
“Not this year!” Julia responds. “It’s been warm. This year Dusty said I could probably wear my costume without a jacket as long as it stays warm.”
Jack glances at me in the rearview mirror, but I just shrug. I don’t much feel like explaining Colorado’s notoriously unpredictable weather patterns, or telling Julia that her hopes of a costume without a coat were probably shot the moment we stepped off that airplane. I’m not too happy about leaving Colorado’s currently warm weather anyway. You can’t skateboard in the snow.
Here's to You, Zeb Pike Page 5
