by D. B. Magee
Ryan tipped his hat. “Howdy, Miss,” he said, glancing down at Lisa’s dangling arm.
Lisa closed the door and followed her guests toward the living room. “Mom!” she shouted up the stairway. “We have company!”
“I like your bracelet,” Lisa said to Mary Whitmore. “My nana has one similar. Hers is some kind of fish, but it’s got the same kind of eyes. I saw it when I was a little girl. She doesn’t wear it anymore, though. Can I see yours?”
Granny touched the bracelet, smiling warmly. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear—it’s pretty difficult to get off—you understand.”
Just then Ann hurried in, wiping her hands on her apron. “Hi, Mary! It’s good to see you again.” She extended her hand to Ryan in greeting. “And you must be Ryan.”
Ryan swiped his hat off his head with his left hand, revealing his short, matted, auburn hair. “Yes ma’am,” he replied, shaking Ann’s hand.
“Well, I’m Ann Walborg, and we are very happy to have you here, Ryan. You’ve met my daughter, Lisa?” she asked, presenting Lisa.
“Yes ma’am,” he said, with a quick nod.
“Wonderful! All right then, Lisa,” her mother said. “Why don’t you show Ryan to his room and introduce him to the others?”
“OK! Come on, Ryan. I’ll show you around.” Lisa raced up the stairs.
Ryan snatched his bag with one hand, smashed his hat to his head with the other, and hustled to catch up.
On the landing into the game room, Lisa stopped suddenly to wait for Ryan. “You sure are formal . . .” she was saying as she turned around.
Suddenly and without warning, Ryan yowled as he tripped on the last step and plowed head first into Lisa, sending her sprawling flat on her keister. He toppled head over heels, trying to avoid landing on top of her. “Oh, uh—sorry,” he stammered, regaining his composure. Then jumping to his feet, he scurried around reclaiming his hat and duffel.
Lisa just sat laughing. “Well, so much for formality,” she said, when she recovered.
Embarrassed and slightly confused, Ryan bumbled to explain. “Oh—yeah, Granny makes me—uh, said I have to be polite.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that here,” Lisa said cheerfully. “I mean—we do have to mind our manners. We just don’t have to be so—proper.” She presented her one good hand to Ryan. “Let’s try this again.”
Ryan took her hand and pulled her up, and then as tactfully as he could, he asked, “What happened to your arm?”
“Motocross accident,” she said, straightening her clothes. “One of the whoopty-doos got the best of me.” She thumbed toward the front of the house. “I damaged a nerve in my spine. Now my arm won’t work.”
“You used to ride dirt bikes?” Ryan said, pointing at her.
Lisa gave Ryan a playful shove. “Don’t look so surprised. I can do anything a boy can do. I was pretty good, too: won trophies and everything.”
“Sorry,” Ryan said, feeling a little sheepish. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that you don’t look the type, is all.” Then, changing the subject, he asked, “Can’t they fix your back?”
“Surgery might correct it—but it’s too expensive. My parents can’t afford it. Come on,” she said, ending the conversation. “I’ll introduce you to William.”
Over to one side of the huge game room, on top of the family pool table, William made adjustments to his remote control glider. More interested in science than socializing, William was normally pretty much a loner; however, since losing his family (all except Stacy that is) he had withdrawn into himself even more lately. Dressed in shorts and a short sleeve, button-up shirt, buttoned to the top, he glanced over his big, obtrusive glasses, unamused at the spectacle taking place on the landing.
Lisa led Ryan over. As Ryan scanned the room, one thing was apparent: The Lounge (for what else could it be called?) wanted for nothing, it seemed. Brimming with the latest electronics, it included the largest flat screen TV available, with surround sound, a fancy stereo system, various game tables, a dart board, and even a comfy sitting area. It was clear to Ryan that this was the hangout.
“William, this is Ryan,” Lisa said, plopping down into one of the leather armchairs nearby. “He’s going to be staying with us. Isn’t that great?”
William didn’t reply, nor did he look up from his task at hand.
“Hi-ya, Willy! You can call me Tex, if’n you want to—most people do.”
William tightened a loose control wire. “My name is William,” he said curtly. “Not Willy.”
Ryan paused for a second. “William seems a little stuffy for a kid, don’t ya reckon?”
“It sounds intelligent,” William countered.
“Right you are, but intelligence is for grown-ups. Willy sounds more like fun, and fun is what I’m all about,” Ryan said, thumbing his chest. “So what do ya say—can I call you Willy?”
Ignoring Ryan, William continued glumly about his work.
Ryan was about to give up and walk away when he suddenly remembered his self-appointed timeline—two weeks to get these kids out of their slump so that he could return to Granny’s. He tried again. “Willy,” he said, bold as could be. “After I drop off this-here bag to my room, what do ya say we get outta this stuffy ol’ house and go outside for some real fun?”
William scoffed at the suggestion. “I don’t know what fun you think you’re going to have around here,” he said. “Have you looked outside? We’re out in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to do.”
Ryan laughed to himself at this comment as he remembered that this was basically what he’d said to Granny. However, since seeing the various features of this property, he’d changed his viewpoint considerably.
“Are you kidding?” he said to William. “Have you looked outside?” For the next thirty minutes he ran down a long list of activities that could be done right here on this amazing property, starting with William’s remote control glider. He rambled on about fishing, jet skiing, swimming, hide-n-seek, oh yeah and let’s not forget that scrap yard. He explained that they could build downhill racers, go-carts, a tree house, a platform on the lake for sunbathing and diving off of, and even go camping and hiking in their very own mountains.
Later that afternoon, with William reluctantly on board, Ryan set his sights on one last recruit. “Come on,” he said to William.” Now, let’s go round up your sister.”
Stacy had met Ryan earlier, on her way through the game room, while he was attempting to enlist William in his scheme of outdoor fun. She hadn’t felt much like socializing, so she hadn’t stayed to see the outcome. Knowing her brother, she’d thought that Ryan was wasting his time. And as far as she, herself, was concerned, Ryan needn’t even bother. She was way too distraught to listen to the nonsensical ramblings of some junior wanna-be cowboy.
Bursting into Stacy’s room, Ryan, William, and Lisa found Stacy sitting at her computer, a pair of wireless 3D glasses perched on her nose. A second pair lay invitingly on an empty chair next to her.
“Wow!” Ryan exclaimed, seeing the strange glasses on Stacy’s face. “Your vision must be pretty terrible.”
“Those are 3D glasses,” Lisa said, giving Ryan a playful shove. “Haven’t you ever played 3D computer games before?”
“Nah,” Ryan replied, “I usually don’t have the time. The only thing I use computers for is emailing Granny, and some of my rodeo pards.” He peeked over Stacy’s shoulder. “How do they work?”
Without a word—or turning her attention away from her computer screen—Stacy grabbed the spare pair of glasses from the chair and shoved them behind herself, into Ryan’s stomach.
“Oof!” Ryan huffed, taking the glasses from her hand. Giving them a quick once-over, he put them on. Immediately, he stumbled backwards, swinging wildly at a herd of weird, wispy, ghost-like animals, rushing toward his face.
“WHOAAA!” he cried, ducking just in time to prevent from being harpooned by a strange—yet friendly-looking—unicorn-type creature. The front
half of the critter’s ethereal body was recognizable, but its back half was thin and wispy, like smoke from a snuffed candle. Ryan jerked the glasses from his face. “What in tarnation was that?” he said, breathing heavily.
Stacy grinned to herself at Ryan’s animated reaction. This seemed to improve her mood somewhat.
Lisa plopped, carefree, on to the bed laughing and pointing at Ryan, while William simply slouched against the bed’s headboard, trying his best to ignore the mirth by flipping through one of Stacy’s computer magazines.
“That was SPAZ,” Lisa said. “A program Stacy found online in an old game archive. It stood for Spirit Park, Aquarium and Zoo. It allows you to design and create spirit animals. Actually,” she added, flopping stomach-down on the bed, “the SPAZ program is just part of a larger program called Worlds of Paradise, which allows the creation of whole spirit worlds.”
“I don’t rightly believe in all that spirit stuff, myself,” Ryan said, unwrapping a piece of gum with one hand. (It was a trick he’d learned while riding horses.) “I think, once you’re gone—you’re gone.”
Stacy snatched the glasses away from Ryan. “Well, I believe in it!” she snapped, setting them down on the desk.
Ryan threw his hands up. “Now, don’t go getting your panties in a bunch,” he said. “I don’t know if that spirit stuff exists, or not. But the way I figure it is, that if there is life beyond the grave, there would have been proof of it by now. That’s all I’m saying.”
Stacy abruptly turned her back on Ryan, donned the 3D glasses once again, and re-immersed herself back into the world of SPAZ.
It took Ryan a whole hour of feigning interest in SPAZ to get Stacy talking to him. Ultimately though, he won her over, just as he had William, with the idea of fun and adventure and the promise of new and bonding friendships between the four of them.
New Friends Bond
“Come on, let’s go!” Ryan shouted, bounding through the front door with William’s glider in tow.
William stumbled out behind Ryan, toting his shiny dual-stick remote control box. “No, wait! This way,” he said, taking the lead and heading back toward the hillside.
Ryan skidded to a halt, dust billowing out from beneath his boots. “Why that way?” he asked, doubling back. “Let’s fly it out over the lake!”
William hustled past the tall, unkempt, thorny bush surrounding the towering Baobab tree. Keeping a suspicious eye on the foreboding shape, he swung wide as he passed by. That thing gives me the creeps, he thought.
Along the edge of the terrace William drew up close to the hillside, in an attempt to benefit from the sliver of shade provided by the mountain range. At this time of day, the sun was just beginning its arc to the other side of Stegosaurus Ridge, where its blistering rays still bathed most of the terrace. In a few hours, the whole of God’s Thumb would be in shade, but for now the only protection from the blazing sun was near the cliff’s face.
With the back of his hand William slung sweat from his brow. Plopping down on the terrace, he dangled his legs over the edge.
“We can’t get enough lift over there,” William said, on Ryan’s approach. “We need the updraft from the mountain.” This was actually the main reason William had chosen this location, in order to get his glider into the air current that flowed along the lake and up the side of the mountain. He switched on the control box. “Ryan, turn on the glider.”
Ryan fumbled with the motorless aircraft. “Where is it?”
“On the bottom of the plane,” William said, “inside the hole.”
Ryan tipped the glider over. “Oh, here we go.” Click! “Okay, all set!”
William quickly thumbed the controller’s two sticks, watching the plane’s control surfaces for proper operation. He bent suddenly, taking one hand from the controller to scoop up a handful of dirt. He threw the dirt into the air and watched as the dust blew up along the face of the mountain. “Okay,” he called out. “Toss it that way.” His pointing finger traced a track along, but slightly away from, the mountain’s face.
Ryan shuffled to the edge of the terrace and cast the sailplane into the upward air current. The sleek plane bucked slightly, and pitched as it was lofted skyward.
His mouth curled in concentration, William carefully manipulated the joysticks. The glider continued its upward pitch as it rolled gently toward the mountainside, in search of the stronger updraft. The silver-skinned glider soared higher and higher, sun glinting brightly off the plastic windshield.
“Yahoo!” Ryan shouted, waving his hat in the air. “Way to go, Willy. Keep it up!”
William’s masterful manipulation of the control box caused the glider to gracefully continue circling high overhead as it gained altitude.
Just as the aircraft reached its limits of lift from the air current off the mountainside, the girls came into view, skimming across the water on the jet-ski, their hair whipping in the wind behind them while the breeze carried their giggles to the boys above. Stacy slowed the watercraft as the girls neared the shoreline.
Ryan nudged his sidekick. “Hey Willy, look over yonder.” He gestured with his head toward the girls.
William looked, and saw Lisa and Stacy, talking merrily as their craft coasted slowly over the rippling waves below.
Ryan made a dive bomb motion with his hand—a mischievous grin followed.
William, with an equally impish grin of his own, swung the plane wide over Walborg Lake. The silent attacker glistened high above.
“Uh-oh!” Stacy exclaimed. “Hold on. I’m turning around!”
Lisa tightened her hold, extra tight, with her good arm around Stacy’s waist. Her life vest, however, made it difficult to get a good grip. “Why?” she asked, looking over Stacy’s shoulder for the cause of her friend’s concern. “What’s wrong?”
“I think William’s up to something!”
Lisa glanced up the butte toward the seemingly innocent boys on the terrace above. “What gives you that idea?”
“I can feel it!” Stacy said, whipping the watercraft around.
Lisa leaned close to Stacy’s ear. “You can feel it?” she shouted, over the engine’s whine.
“It’s a twin thing,” Stacy shouted, back. “Take my word for it. We’d better get out of here—and now!” Stacy aimed for the other end of the lake.
Up ahead, silhouetted against the Sierra Nevada mountain range, the glider bore down on its prey.
Unaware of the approaching menace, Stacy cranked the throttle.
William shoved the stick forward.
The glider-turned-dive-bomber nosed over, quickly picking up speed. The accelerating jet-ski and the descending aircraft of doom closed in on each other.
Ryan stood in suspense, his hand atop his hatted head, as the stealthy sailplane zeroed in on its unsuspecting quarry.
Wanting the best vantage point he could get, William got up and hurried along the edge of God’s Thumb, towards the retreating jet-ski, the control box pulled right up tight to his face.
Ryan, not wishing to miss any of the action, stayed close behind William.
Reaching the end of the jutting terrace, the boys stopped.
William stared, with tense concentration, between the controls as if he were looking through a fighter plane’s gunsight. He maintained steady forward pressure on the right-hand joy stick. Almost there! he thought. Just a moment more . . .
Suddenly, Stacy screamed. Her hands flew up in front of her face, and she jerked violently backward, ejecting herself and Lisa from the watercraft. The girls hit the water with a large splash while the Jet Ski, as it was designed to do, immediately stopped and idled nearby.
Ryan laughed and cheered.
William pulled abruptly on the joy stick.
The glider jerked upward, just missing the terrace’s edge. Both boys ducked down as the winged dart zoomed past their heads.
“Whoa!” Ryan exhaled, checking to see that his hat was still on his head.
William, still bent ove
r, swiveled briskly, both hands still firmly attached to the controls. Tight-faced and fully focused, he continued to guide the screaming aircraft up, up, when suddenly, “Noooo!” he shrieked, as his pride and joy crashed straight into the top of the dreaded tree. One wing sailed off beyond the tree, cork-screwing its way to the ground; the other, bent and broken, partly torn from the fuselage, fluttered noisily high up among the leafless branches.
“Just wait till I get my hands on William!” Stacy gurgled, while treading water amongst the heavy ripples.
Floating nearby in her life vest, Lisa, already thinking it was funny, spat out water between laughs. “Relax Stacy, we’ll get him back, and Ryan too,” she added, suspecting Ryan had also had something to do with it.
“Stacy,” Lisa said, once they reached the Jet Ski, “How did you know William was up to something?”
A small wave pushed Stacy up against the small vessel. She spat out water and coughed as another one caught her off guard. Using the momentum of the next wave, she scrambled aboard the watercraft and sat a minute, catching her breath. “I’ve always been able to feel when William was up to mischief,” she said, finally, “especially when it concerned me.”
“Does William have this gift also?” Lisa asked, holding on to the pull bar at the back of the craft.
“Yes,” Stacy replied. “We can feel other things about one another also, like when one of us is hurt, and sometimes if we are very excited over something.”
Lisa pondered this for a moment as she bobbed gently in the subsiding ripples. That means, she thought, in order to make sure William doesn’t catch on, I’m going to have to plan our retaliation by myself. “Come on, Stacy,” she said aloud, “let’s get out of here. I’ll hold on to the back. You can tow me in to shore.”
Back on land, William marched, red faced, toward his aircraft’s lacerated wing. “What am I going to do, now?” he said in a huff. “That was my only plane!”
Ryan hustled to catch up. “Don’t fret, Willy,” he said, throwing his arm around his new friend. “I’ll get ya a new one. Granny’s rich. She’ll get us anything we want.”
