Here's to You, Zeb Pike

by Johanna Parkhurst

  “How tall are the mountains?” I ask at one point.

  Jack chuckles. “They’re probably nothing compared to the Colorado peaks you’re used to, Dusty. They tend to cap out at a little over four thousand feet.”

  He’s right. That is nothing like what I’m used to. Still, even these mountains seem impressive somehow. It’s too bad they’re so… different.

  “…And this is Colby High School, where I teach, where Dusty will go to school.” We’re driving through a small downtown area, full of small stores with names like “Jen’s Diner” and “Pat’s Dress Palace.” The high school Jack points out is huge, though, with at least three wings. It’s older than any building I’ve ever seen in Colorado. The front is dark brick, and it’s covered in ivy from top to bottom.

  “It’s pretty big for such a small town,” I mutter. I don’t even realize Jack is listening to me, but he nods from the driver’s seat. “It’s what’s called a regional high school. This is actually the town of Colby, but they take in students from all the surrounding towns, including Danville. Most of the towns around here are too small to have their own high school.”

  I’m thinking about that when I realize something huge. “Wait, you mean Jules and Matt will go to a different school than I will?”

  Beth turns in her seat. “Of course. They’ll go to the elementary school in Danville. I thought we already told you that?”

  I guess they probably did, but I’m sure I wasn’t paying much attention. I’ve never really thought about what schools we’ll go to. I haven’t ever been to a different school from the kids—I started going to Prescott long before either one of them was old enough to go to school, back when Mom was having a “good mom” moment and was pretty intent on making sure her kids got a good education. She visited Prescott, chose it herself, and even moved us a few miles across town so we could be down the street from it. One of my favorite activities was bringing Matt and Julia back and forth to Prescott every day. The idea of not spending every morning and afternoon with them is… well, disturbing.

  My look probably turns dark, but nobody seems to notice. Jack starts talking about all the great things Julia and Matt are going to get to do at Danville Elementary, and I sort of check out of the conversation. I stare out the window, the strange, new mountains staring back at me, and I wonder how I am ever going to begin to like this place.

  Jack and Beth’s house is in the middle of nowhere, spread out against the background of a giant, brown-and-green field. The neighbors are at least a mile apart on each side. It’s a huge old Victorian, red with white trim. There’s even a little tower leaning out of the right-hand side of the frame. My room, I’m pretty sure. Next to the house itself is a smaller building that looks like it used to be a shed. A raised blue sign above the door of the building reads “Morton Real Estate.”

  “Real estate?” I look at Jack. “I thought you were a teacher.”

  Jack parks the car in the driveway and Beth starts to open the door. “The real estate business is mine,” she says. “It’s very well-established. I even managed to arrange things so I could take some time off this week and get you guys settled.” She opens up the back door and starts to help Julia out, brushing Julia’s hair back at the same time. Nope, it isn’t my imagination—she really does look at Julia like she’s a doll just waiting to be dressed up.

  Matt jumps out of the car and quickly surveys the area. I can practically feel his eyes boring into the giant backyard, the brown fields stretching out from behind the house, the neighbor’s house far down the road. “Hey, where’re the dogs?” he calls out.

  Jack puts his hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, kiddo. You won’t be able to miss ’em once we get into the house.”

  Jack’s right. The second we step into the front door, we’re surrounded by loud barking. A golden lab and smaller dog that looks like a mutt come charging at us, paws raised. Julia squeals and buries her head in my jacket, and for the first time since we arrived in Vermont, I relax a little.

  “Get away, you crazy dogs!” Jack hollers, pushing past us. “The big lab is Missy; the other one’s name is Portia.”

  “Portia,” Matt says quietly. He approaches the dogs slowly, but he doesn’t need to. Portia immediately comes running up to lick his hand.

  Jack ushers us in past the dogs. “C’mon, kids, let’s take your bags up to your rooms.”

  I almost groan out loud. The last thing I want to see is those stupid rooms. But I can’t exactly not follow when Julia yells “Yay! I can’t wait!” and starts running past Jack.

  Naturally, the kids get immediately engrossed in the crazy amount of toys already sitting in both their rooms. Looks like Beth’s been adding since that first Skype tour. Jack leads me up to my room, which at least doesn’t seem to have too much added to it. Except for one thing: the laptop on the desk.

  I clear my throat. “You got me a computer?”

  Jack pats me on the back. “We thought you’d need your own for school, and we wanted to you to be able to stay in touch with your Colorado friends. Of course, there are rules for it: it goes off at ten o’clock every night, no matter what, and homework always happens first. If you have a Facebook account and things like that, make sure your last name isn’t on anything. Careful about websites you’re on, of course. If you misuse it in any way, we take it back for a while.”

  I clear my throat, because I have no idea what to say. This is crazy. They bought me my own computer? They don’t even know me. And I already have rules for it? “You got me a computer?” I finally say again.

  Jack laughs. “You’ll find out that I’m kind of a tech freak—we’ve got way too many gadgets around here. We’ll get you a cell phone eventually too, but we thought we’d wait so you could pick your own out.”

  Jack starts back down the stairs. “Get comfortable, okay? We’ll have dinner in about an hour and a half.”

  I crash on top of the comforter. Down the tower stairs, I can hear Julia yelling, “Matt! Matt! Come look at this!” I start to get up, to go downstairs and see what Jules’s so excited about. But then I start thinking about Julia and that pink room and those dolls. I decide to lie back down again, just for a minute.

  “DUSTY!” SOMEONE’S shaking me. Why is someone shaking me? I groggily open my eyes. It’s dark outside, and Jack is leaning over me.

  “Kiddo, we’re about to eat dinner. You want to sleep or eat?” Kiddo? No one’s ever called me that before. That’s what I always call Matt. I try to sit up suddenly, and Jack holds onto my shoulder. “No rush, Dusty. We just didn’t want you to skip a meal.”

  I put my hand on my stomach, trying to remember the last time I ate. Anyway, I want to get downstairs and see Julia and Matt. I can’t believe I fell asleep an hour into being at the new house. What if they’ve needed me?

  I get to the kitchen quickly, hoping to save Matt and Julia from an uncomfortable dinner with these strangers, but they’re both talking loudly, battling each other for Beth’s attention. She’s sitting at the head of the table and they’re on either side of her. I notice Julia’s hair has been brushed and pulled back into a ponytail and that Matt’s face is clean. I wince. I’ve never had a lot of time to pay attention to that kind of stuff with them.

  “Dusty!” Beth’s face lights up as I walked in. “We were a little worried you were out for the next week. How’s fried chicken sound?”

  “Dusty, my new doll’s name is Linda and the dog Portia likes me!” Julia starts tugging excitedly on my shirt as I sit down.

  “Dusty, I got to take Missy running outside and the TV really is huge!” Matt’s eyes are wide with excitement. I nod tensely, and suddenly all the food in front of me doesn’t seem very appetizing.

  I think I see Beth and Jack exchange a glance. “Let’s eat, okay, kids?” Jack ruffles Matt’s hair and starts piling our plates high with food. Maybe they think we’ve never eaten before.

  At my first bite of mashed potatoes, though, I feel as if I have never e
aten before. I’m suddenly starving again, because this is delicious. The kids and I eat and eat, and I notice Jack’s eyes are twinkling as he watches us, like he’s trying very hard not to laugh. I can’t blame him. I don’t even want to imagine what we look like.

  “Did you make this?” Matt asks, rudely grabbing the serving platter for a third helping of chicken. Even Julia, who is usually so polite and neat around food, isn’t stopping for air.

  Beth nods. “We both did. Jack did the chicken; I did the side dishes.” While we finish off most of what is left on the table, Beth begins plotting out our schedule for the next day. “Of course, we really want you guys to start school as soon as possible, but Jack and I thought it might be best if you had a day to adjust to the area. So I thought tomorrow I’d take you shopping, get you some new clothes for school, show you around a little bit. You can start school on Thursday.”

  School. Wahoo.

  “How’s that sound?” Beth is still talking. I’m going to have to get used to that. I’m not used to there being so many other adults around, talking all the time, especially at dinner.

  The kids start asking questions about clothes and their new school, and I just look steadily around the kitchen, trying to find anything wrong with it. The floor could use a good sweeping, I notice. There’s actually a dust bunny in one corner of it. I catch Jack watching me across the table and I bury my gaze in my plate. It’s still strange to look at him and see a mirror image of myself. Shouldn’t I be the mirror image of my dad or something? But Matt has that covered.

  By the time dinner is over, there are almost no leftovers on the table. At home, this would be the point where the kids do their homework and get ready for bed while I do the dishes, so when we’re finished eating, they just sort of stand there and stare at me, waiting for directions.

  I’m not sure what to do either, so I figure it’s best to just do what we’ve always done. That makes the most sense, right? I’ve already started clearing our plates away when I realize that Beth and Jack are staring at me too.

  Jack clears his throat. “Dusty, you don’t have to do that tonight. We’ll establish some kind of chore schedule eventually, but for tonight I’ll clear the table.”

  I don’t put the dishes down. Dishes are something that have been part of my life forever. I like the routine I have with Matt and Julia after dinner, and I want to keep it.

  I turn to Matt and Julia. “You guys go put your pajamas on and get ready for bed, okay? I’ll help Jack and Beth with the dishes and then I’ll read to you.”

  Beth and Jack suddenly look uncomfortable. “Actually, Dusty,” says Beth, “I was thinking of having the kids help me take the dogs for a walk.”

  Julia claps her hands. “I’ll find the coats!” Matt yells out. I stand there, holding the dishes. Fine.

  “Sure, no problem,” I tell Beth. “I’ll just read to them when you get back.”

  Beth smiles warmly. “Of course,” she says. “I got a bunch of books out of the library; I can’t wait for us to read with them.” She starts toward the door.

  Jack’s watching me carefully, so I refuse to let my facial expression change.

  Still, as I’m rinsing off the serving dishes a few moments later (I figure I can at least keep that part of my routine), I can’t stop the phrase Who invited you? from dancing over and over inside my head.

  THE SUN is bright in the tower room, brighter than I would expect in this gray place. I can tell I’m waking up late in the morning just from how high the sun is in the sky, and I instantly wonder what time it is. The clock on the bureau reads 10:06. After ten o’clock? I throw off the covers. Matt and Jules are usually awake by seven, even on weekends.

  I find my bags in a corner of the room and quickly grab some jeans out of my old duffle. I dimly remember that Beth is supposed to take us shopping today. That’s probably a good thing, I realize, counting the many holes ripping their way through my poor old pants.

  I realize as soon as I get to the living room that, just like last night, I didn’t need to bother rushing down the stairs. Julia and Matt are dressed and sitting in front of some kind of stupid PBS TV show. They’re eating giant bowls of cereal. Beth is in the corner of the room sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the paper. “Morning, Dusty,” she calls. “What would you like for breakfast?”

  Before I answer her, I go over and give Matt a quick shove and Julia a hug. I try to ignore the fact that they grin and immediately go back to their TV show. “I’m okay,” I say. “I’ll just have some juice.” I take off to the kitchen before she can try to come fix it for me.

  I’m definitely not hitting it off very well with Beth. Our rough ending to last night is still ringing in my head, and I wonder if it’s ringing in hers too. Things were fine when the kids first came in from walking the dog; I was finishing up the dishes with Jack and I told them to get their pajamas on. But Beth decided to give them both baths, and when I walked into Julia’s room later, the two of them were curled up on either side of Beth with wet hair and fascinated looks aimed at whatever she was reading. Beth stopped and invited me in, with Julia and Matt begging me to come in too, but we all realized pretty quickly that there wasn’t a whole lot of room on the bed for me. I left before their second story was done. It was the first time in months Julia hadn’t drifted off to sleep while I was reading to her.

  Maybe the whole scene is staying with her too, because she follows me into the kitchen. “So, I thought we’d go shopping soon.”

  “Sure. I could use some new jeans.”

  Beth smiles and puts her hand on my shoulder. I tense up, but I don’t pull away. “Dusty….” Beth starts to say something, but she stops quickly. “Be ready to go in about forty minutes, okay? That’ll give you time to shower.” She leaves the room.

  Julia comes running into the kitchen, holding one of the Barbies that had been on her new bed the day before. “Dusty! Aunt Beth’s taking us to get new clothes!”

  I try to smile. “I know. It’s great, Julia.”

  She puts out her arms for another hug, so I swing her around the rooms a few times and get a kiss on my cheek. “I like it here, Dusty.” She grins as I put her down. “Will Mom and Dad come here soon too?”

  You’d think the biggest burdens of my life in Colorado would be the dishes, the cooking, the laundry, that stuff. Nope. It was always wondering when my parents would finally show up to raise my siblings. It was trying to always explain to them where Mom and Dad were, what Mom and Dad were doing, why they were never around. Now, apparently, new parents have shown up. And I still don’t know how to explain what happened to the old ones.

  “I don’t know, Jules,” I finally decide to say.

  THINGS JUST get worse as the day wears on.

  First we go to some little kids’ store in a Burlington mall, where Beth pulls every pink outfit off the store racks and hustles Julia into a changing room with them. Then she finds about a hundred things for Matt and sends him into another one.

  In all the time I’ve spent taking care of Matt and Julia, I’ve never once shopped with them. When Mom’s around, she usually finds time to get them some clothes, and there isn’t much money for clothes shopping when she isn’t there.

  Beth keeps glancing over the partition of Julia’s changing room, saying, “We’ll get stuff for you next, Dusty.” I don’t really care that much. It doesn’t matter to me what the kids at this new school think of me.

  The problem is that Julia keeps flouncing out of the dressing room in new outfits, usually pink or purple, shouting to Beth about how great the clothes are. Then she looks at me and says things like, “Dusty, look at my new shirt!” I finally pull a chair up into the corner and try to drown out the fact that Matt and Julia are happier than I’ve seen them in a long time.

  Matt gets sick of trying clothes on long before Julia. He sacks out in a chair next to me, and Beth finally decides it’s probably time for lunch.

  “Dusty, aren’t you hungry?” Beth has ordered M
att and Jules grilled-cheese sandwiches, and I have a bacon cheeseburger in front of me. I can’t eat a bite of it, though. We’re in probably the nicest restaurant I’ve ever been in, with fancy waiters and bartenders all around, and the kids are loving every minute of it. I just want to go back to Colorado Springs and eat ramen again for a while. Yup, that would definitely be easier. I shake my head. “Nah, not feeling well. Do we have to go shopping for me today? Can it wait?”

  Beth eyes my worn jeans for a moment. “Dusty, I really don’t think you can make it through the rest of the week without a decent pair of pants. Give me your sizes and I’ll get you some while you’re in school tomorrow, okay?”

  Matt is instantly concerned. “Dusty, why are you sick?”

  He comes around the table to stand next to me, and I grin a little, thinking of how quickly he can become such a serious kid. The look on his face is the same one he wore when Julia first got sick, and I know him well enough to know what he’s thinking. I stop smiling. “I’m okay, Matt.”

  I am and I’m not. I’m not sure if it’s watching Matt and Julia moon over Beth’s every move, or the fact that I have to start a new school tomorrow, but I’m just not hungry, and I sure don’t want to go shopping. This move’s turning out to be just excellent for my emotional health, I think, as I remember Race in the hospital cafeteria not that long ago.

  When we get back to Jack and Beth’s, I head to Julia’s room with her and ask her to tell me a story about one of her new Barbies. I figure that way I can try to rest without feeling like I’m abandoning her or whatever.

  It has to be late when I feel someone lifting me. “Jack?” I croak.