Lovely Wild

by Megan Hart

  Well, Mari can be happy, too. She can be more than that. She can be good.

  SEVENTEEN

  “DON’T CHASE THEM, IDIOT.” Kendra tapped the keys of her phone to send a text to Sammy as she watched Ethan run after a squawking chicken. “God.”

  Sammy hadn’t answered the last couple texts Kendra had sent, but since Kendra was only getting two or sometimes three bars of signal, that wasn’t a surprise. Dad said that they didn’t need the internet, that they should use this time to do other things and to not be distracted, which was totally unfair since it wasn’t Kendra’s fault he couldn’t be self-disciplined enough not to go online when he was supposed to be working.

  He was writing a book, he said, and that didn’t make any sense. Her dad was a doctor, not a writer. When Kendra was in seventh grade and had the worst English teacher ever, she’d tried to get help from him, but he’d totally messed her up. Her mom had been the one to figure out how to diagram a sentence, working hard with Kendra at the kitchen table, going back and forth from the textbook to the paper, struggling until finally, she’d cried out, “I get it!” And had been able to show Kendra how to do it. Now her dad was writing a book?

  “What a joke,” she muttered.

  “I’m not joking. Or chasing them!” Ethan made a face at her. “I just want to pet one.”

  “They’re not pets, monkeybrat.”

  “That’s what Mama said,” he mumbled.

  Kendra looked at her phone again, hoping for an answer from at least one of her friends. Nothing. She shoved it into her pocket.

  The barn was run-down but pretty cool. It was mostly empty inside. Part of it had been converted into a garage. Part into a chicken house with a small doorway for the chickens to get in and out. The other stalls were too small for horses or cows. Goats, maybe. Around the back was a tall box of small cages stacked on top of each other, also empty. It looked as though it had once had pigeons or something in it. Outside behind the barn, closer to the field, was a high, round cage made of wire like something you’d see in a zoo. Inside was a doghouse, but it didn’t look like the sort of cage you’d use for a dog. A monkey, maybe.

  Or a person.

  The chickens were cool, too. Red ones, white ones, a few speckled ones with fluffy feet and heads. That was the sort Ethan was trying to catch, and Kendra had to admit, they did look soft and fun to pet. But they were all wild, running around and dodging his grasp. It was funny to watch.

  “Ain’t the way to catch ’em.”

  Kendra and Ethan both turned at the sound of an unfamiliar voice as an old woman shuffled around the edge of the barn. She wore a brightly colored muumuu, rubber boots and a baseball cap with a picture of a tractor on it. She waved at Ethan, who moved at once to Kendra’s side. Kendra put her arm around him, knowing it was stupid to be afraid of an old woman, even if she did show up all of a sudden out of nowhere.

  “I’m Rosie, from down the lane. Heard we was getting some new folks.” She had a funny accent. “Dawn the lane,” it sounded like. She grinned, showing straight teeth way too white and big for her face. White hair floated from under the ball cap, some of it tied behind her but most of it loose. She jerked a thumb toward the driveway. “I look after the chickens. Used to take care of the squabs, too, and the peafowl, but they’re long gone now.”

  “Is that what was in that big cage?” Kendra pointed.

  Rosie nodded. “Yep, yep. A hen and a cock. Victor and Victoria was their names.”

  Ethan giggled when the old lady said cock, though Kendra was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to even know that was a dirty word. “Peacocks!”

  “Yep, yep.” Rosie shuffled forward.

  “What happened to them?” Ethan asked.

  “Oh...they runned off. Victor and Victoria are probably dead by now. But I think they had some chicks or something. At any rate, I find their feathers sometimes, so...” Rosie shrugged.

  “So they are around?” Ethan bounced. “Can we see them? That would be really cool!”

  “Maybe they’re out there in the woods, though if they can live on their own out there without getting et up by a fox or coyote or somethin’ they can surely hide from you.”

  “Coyotes?” Kendra’s lip curled. “I didn’t know there were coyotes in Pennsylvania.”

  “Yep, yep, sure there are.” Rosie laughed. “But don’t you worry ’bout that. These chickens here, now, they’ll squawk and kick up a ruckus if so much as a possum comes rustling around, and coyotes mostly keep to themselves up on the mountain. They come down once in a while to get into your garbage, but so will a bear if you don’t keep it locked up. Raccoons, too. All kinds of things have a mind to get into your trash.”

  “Bears?” Ethan looked up at Kendra. “Kiki, for real?”

  Surely the old lady had to be exaggerating, but she didn’t look like she was. Kendra shrugged. “I dunno, kid.”

  Rosie studied him. “Tell you what, little man. Why don’t you help me feed these chickens, and I bet we can catch ourselves one of those pretty ones for you to pet, if you want. And I’ll show you how to collect the eggs. How about that?”

  Ethan looked up at Kendra, already one step away from her but his expression questioning. Something panged inside her. She remembered the monkeybrat being born, how it had been to hold him as a baby. Sure, he was a booger and did all kinds of boy stuff she didn’t like, and sometimes she wished he’d been a sister and other times she was glad he was a boy so that she could still have her mom to herself for girl things, even if she did believe her mother preferred Ethan to her. But mostly, she liked her little brother, and when he looked at her like that, she was reminded how responsible it felt to be the older sister. To make sure he was okay.

  “That sounds like fun, Ethan. But maybe we should ask Mom first.” Kendra nodded encouragement with a quick glance over her shoulder toward the house. They’d had it drilled into their heads too many times—never, ever go with a stranger. Not a policeman, not a fireman, not someone who said they were a teacher or who said they’d come to pick you up from school because your parents had been in an accident.

  Their mom was coming out the front door, anyway. She was wiping her hands on a dish towel and had pulled her hair up into a messy bun on top of her head. She must’ve been cleaning. Or maybe putting away the fifty zillion bags of groceries she’d bought that morning. At home, Kendra was often a little embarrassed by her mom’s pack-rat habits but somehow knowing that hadn’t changed despite the move made living here a little more...familiar.

  “Hi, can I help you?”

  “She’s Rosie, from down the lane,” Ethan said. “She’s here to take care of the chickens.”

  “And youse, if you need it,” Rosie added. “I do the cleaning and whatnot for you short-term folks. Though you’re scheduled to be here for more than a week or so, ain’t?”

  Mom blinked, giving Rosie one of those blank looks that so often embarrassed Kendra. “Yes. For the summer. But we don’t need someone to clean for us.”

  Rosie’s eyebrows rose. “No? It’s included. I come in weekly, replace the linens, give the place a scrubbing.”

  “My husband didn’t say anything about it.” Mom wiped her hands on the dishcloth, giving a quick glance at the house over her shoulder. “We can handle it, I think. Thank you, though.”

  Kendra wouldn’t have minded someone coming in to clean, if it meant she wouldn’t have to do it. Lots of her friends had cleaning ladies, but her mom never had.

  “If you change your mind, I guess you’ll know how to find me,” Rosie said with a sniff that said Mom had insulted her. Her teeth jutted out of her mouth before she sucked them back in. “Been taking care of these chickens for all the renters for a long time. Told your boy here he could help me out. Seems he’s taken a liking to the chickens.”

  Ethan gave Kendra a wide-eyed stare and pressed his lips together against a laugh. Kendra wrinkled her nose and nudged him with her hip. Their mom moved toward Rosie.

  �
�I’d like to help with the chickens. C’mon, honey.” Mom held out her hand to Ethan, then looked at Kendra. “Kiki, love? Coming?”

  Kendra rolled her eyes. “Um. How about, no?”

  Mom laughed. “Okay for you. What are you going to do?”

  Kendra slipped her phone from her pocket. No new messages. She waved it. “I thought I’d go for a walk, if that’s okay. Try to find a better signal, maybe.”

  Rosie clucked again. “Oh, girlie. Be careful in those woods.”

  “Should I be worried about bears and coyotes?” Kendra asked, just to see what her mom would say.

  Rosie got a strange look on her face and stared toward the woods. “Maybe. Maybe something else.”

  Kendra thought about whatever she’d seen moving in the woods yesterday. About the scream she’d heard the night they moved in. It hadn’t been a coyote. Not a bear, either. “Like what?”

  “Yes,” Mom said. “Like what?”

  “Oh...nothing.” Rosie shook her head and laughed. “Nothing. Just stories.”

  “Scary stories?” Ethan asked.

  “If they are,” Mom said, “we don’t need to hear them.”

  “No, no, I guess not.” Rosie looked again toward the woods, then shrugged. “How about them chickens, huh? C’mon, fella. Let’s go catch us one.”

  Ethan set off after the woman, but her mother snagged Kendra’s wrist. “Kiki. Be careful in the woods. Don’t go far. In fact—”

  “Mom. I’ll be fine. Seriously.” Even if she was a little worried, a little anxious, it was the very last thing in the world Kendra would admit to.

  Her mom looked back and forth to Ethan, then Kendra, and just as Kendra expected, her mom picked Ethan. “Fine. But be back before lunch. I don’t want to have to come look for you.”

  “Got it.” Kendra was two steps away before her mom stopped her by snagging the hem of her shirt. “What?”

  “Be careful, Kiki. Promise.”

  “I promise, Mom. God.”

  This time, she danced out of her mother’s grasp before she could grab her again. Kendra crossed the yard toward the back of the house, passing the porch. She waved at her dad through the glass, but he was busy sorting through boxes and didn’t see her. The grass back here was long and tickled her shins. Grasshoppers hummed and hopped, freaking her out a little bit until she stopped to look at one on a long blade of grass just at the edge of the yard. She took it on her finger, where it promptly spit on her and she let out a low cry of disgust before flicking it away, then quickly looked around to be sure nobody saw her.

  Not that there was anyone to see her, she reminded herself. This place was what Sammy liked to call B.F.E.—BumFuck, Egypt. It always made Kendra laugh when Sammy said that. It didn’t feel so funny, now.

  Here, the woods nudged up against the yard instead of having the length of the empty field between them and the barn. Kendra paused to look over her shoulder at the house, at her dad through the windows. He was only a shadow. The trees reached tickling fingers toward her as she pushed through them and into the woods.

  She moved deeper into the trees where it was instantly cooler and somehow quieter, something she wouldn’t have thought possible considering how everything here was so much quieter than at home. She heard the soft tweet of birds and the crunch of her flip-flops on the thick carpet of brown pine needles and dead leaves, but that was it.

  A small stream lined with soft grass edged its way through the trees. There were enough rounded rocks sticking out that it wouldn’t be hard at all for her to hop across them, but Kendra carefully tucked her phone into her pocket and slipped off her flip-flops to dip her toes into the water. It was cold, the bottom thick with mud that made her curl her lip. Ethan would love this. He’d probably fall in and get soaked, though.

  Kendra stopped to sit on one of the bigger rocks and dangle her feet in the water. The trees were thin here, and the sun shone through, making it hot so the cold water felt extra nice on her feet. Her phone was a lump in her pocket, but she was just lazy enough right then not to bother to check it. She tipped her face up to the sky, closing her eyes against the glare and seeing only red.

  It was easier today than it had been yesterday to be annoyed with her parents for bringing her here, wasting her summer. Still, she couldn’t quite hate them. If what Sammy had said was true, whatever her dad had done was pretty bad. Stuff like that got around.

  A twig snapped.

  Kendra opened her eyes, heart pounding, already getting to her feet and almost falling into the water the way she’d thought Ethan would fall, given half a chance. Though she’d had her eyes closed, all she could see now was still the red haze spattered with gold from staring up at the sky. She blinked rapidly, hands out to catch her balance as her feet slipped on the now-wet rock.

  Visions of bears and coyotes made her see a large, looming shadow on the other side of the stream before her vision cleared enough for her to see it as nothing but the wind pushing the trees. She drew in a breath, heart pounding.

  “Stupid.”

  Something glinted through the trees on the creek’s other side. Then again. Like the gleam of sun on a mirror, flash, flash. Kendra looked again, but saw nothing.

  “Hello?”

  She was halfway there before she thought about Rosie’s sideways mention of a scary story, something that wasn’t a bear or a coyote. Of the flash of light she’d seen from her window. Whatever it was, it wasn’t an animal. Something was there in the woods just beyond.

  In her pocket, her phone vibrated. She pulled it out of her shorts. Two bars. Crap. Still, it was an answer from Logan.

  :)

  Kendra frowned. Like things weren’t weird enough since she’d found out about him and Sammy? Not that she’d said anything to him about it, but she figured Sammy had. They’d barely talked until she told him she’d be gone all summer, and then he’d made her promise to keep in touch. Since they got here, she’d sent him at least three texts talking about this new house, how much it sucked that she was going to miss the whole summer at the pool and stuff. And that was what he replied? What an ass.

  She kicked at the leaves before realizing that wasn’t the smartest thing to do in flip-flops. As she thought about whether to tap out a reply or ignore him, the signal bars went from two to three.

  “Yes!”

  Kendra took two steps forward. Three bars. Then another two, and briefly, four bars showed up before slipping back to three. There was no path here in the woods, but the trees were far enough apart that it wasn’t hard to pick a way through them. Kendra followed the idea that somehow, someway, she’d get full signal strength for her phone, maybe enough to even make a freaking call instead of relying on texts to get in touch with her friends. If any of them bothered to answer when she called.

  Whatever it was, it was farther away than it looked. Or else it was moving. Because every time she got close to where she was sure she’d last seen it, there was nothing but trees and leaves, swishing in the breeze. Until at last she’d gone much farther than she knew her mother would’ve wanted, up the mountain and deeper into the woods.

  Flip-flops weren’t the best shoes for this climb, but she was at least rewarded with a five-bar signal on her phone and a flurry of trills and vibrations from all the texts that came flooding in. Even the chime letting her know she had a couple voice mails.

  But that wasn’t really the most exciting thing.

  She’d found a peacock feather. Bedraggled, but still brilliant. Kendra plucked it from where it had snagged in a low, scrubby bush. Something screeched just as her phone vibrated and rang in her pocket.

  Kendra screamed in a breathless, wheezy gasp, and pulled the phone from her pocket. She dropped it into the dirt and let out a string of muttered curses as she jumped to snatch it up, the feather still clutched in her other hand. “Hello?”

  “Kiki, where are you?”

  “Mom.” Kendra laughed and swiped at her forehead. It was hot here in the clearing, because e
ven though the trees moved in a breeze, she couldn’t feel it. She listened hard for that strange screeching again, turning in a nervous circle as she tried to keep everything in sight all at the same time.

  “It’s going to rain. Where are you? It’s almost lunchtime.”

  “Sh...oot,” Kendra amended, though her mom really didn’t care if she swore. Her dad did, though. “I guess I lost track of time. Sorry.”

  “Where are you?” her mom repeated. Now she sounded angry, or at least upset.

  Not good. “I hiked up the mountain a ways. I’m okay.” Kendra opened her mouth to tell her mom about the screaming, but when she looked at the phone and saw five bars, full strength, something stopped her. If this was the only place where she could get full strength, she wasn’t going to give it up.

  “Come home. Now.”

  “Okay, okay, jeez.” Kendra clamped the phone to her ear and started picking her way through the rocks in the clearing, pausing to look at the bush where she’d found the feather.

  “Kiki, I mean it. Come home!”

  “I’m coming, Mom, God!” Even just a few feet away in the trees, her signal was down to four bars. Three. “I’m coming home right now. But my phone’s going to lose the signal.”

  “Kiki —”

  But Kendra had already disconnected the call. She’d just say she lost the signal if her mom complained. She left the clearing, busy tapping at the keys of her phone to get in as many text replies as she could before the signal died, and by the time she looked up, she was back at the stream.

  EIGHTEEN

  THE PICTURE ON the TV was grainy. Not out of focus, just aged and filmed on equipment that had been the most up-to-date for its time but couldn’t compare to current HD technology or even the clarity of film transferred to DVD. Ryan remembered his father’s video camera as a huge thing, held on one shoulder much like the cameras used by television news teams. There had been a hanging mic, separate from the camera, to capture additional sound. Add to that the fact the videotapes had been sitting in unprotected storage for years, and no wonder the colors were faded and fuzzy, the sound a little muted.