by Cheree Alsop
“Rosco, no,” the boy said. He patted the dog’s head. “Sorry about that. I think he’s just worried about me.”
Magnum didn’t say anything.
“We’ve got to go,” I told the boy. “See you around.”
“Bye! Thanks again!” he said. He hugged the dog to him once more, then hurried in the opposite direction the boys had gone. The dog trotted at his heels, happy to be free once more.
Magnum and I watched until they disappeared at the end of the block. “I hate dogs,” Magnum said in a low voice.
“Me too,” I replied. He threw me a look, but I just smiled inside my visor and climbed on my motorcycle. “At least it was a night worth riding,” I called to him as he walked back to his bike.
He made a rude gesture in the air and didn’t turn around.
MOM MET ME IN the driveway when I pulled up on the four-wheeler later that night. “I’m glad you’re finally home,” she said, giving me a tight hug.
I gave her a sincere smile. “I’m glad too. I’m so sorry I scared you. Sometimes I don’t think.”
She shook her head. “Kelson, you think of everyone but yourself. If you need a little you time now and then, I understand. Especially after something like that.”
We both looked at the dark mounds that made up the remains of the barn. A shudder ran up my spine at the thought of the fire. I turned my back to it and put an arm around Mom. “Let’s go inside.”
If she was surprised at my actions, she didn’t say anything. When we entered the mudroom, she gave a warm smile. “Lauren says their insurance is going to cover it because the fire was started by a faulty electrical outlet.”
“So we don’t have to help rebuild it?”
Mom stared at me for a minute, then started laughing. “Thank goodness! It would just fall down.”
“I don’t think Uncle Rick would trust me with a hammer anyway,” I replied with a laugh of my own.
I kicked off my shoes and crossed to the kitchen, then paused at the sight of Uncle Rick and Aunt Lauren at the table in much the same position as when I left.
Aunt Lauren gave me a careful smile as though she was worried about what to say. Uncle Rick nodded at her. She rose with a hand on her stomach and gestured toward her sister. “Let’s see what the boys are up to,” she said. Mom gave me a worried look, but followed her sister through the doorway.
“Sit down, Kelson,” Uncle Rick intoned.
A pit formed in my stomach, but I sat where he indicated. He studied his hands on the tabletop. When he opened his mouth to speak, I blurted out, “I’m so sorry about Jaren. I shouldn’t have frozen like that. I almost got him killed. I’ll go if you want me to.” I blinked back the sharp burning of tears.
Uncle Rick’s voice filled the room, a voice used to calling cattle, commanding horses, training dogs, and heralding ranchers, and now used to calm the troubled soul of his aching, lost nephew. “The fire wasn’t your fault,” he said in a tone that left no room for doubt. “You hold no amount of blame for the danger Jaren was in.”
I listened to him with my gaze firmly locked on the scratched tablecloth. In one place, a flower had been torn in two by somebody’s fork, probably Cole’s.
“If anything, I am at fault for asking so much of you.” His voice softened. “I can’t imagine what courage it took for you to enter the fire after everything you went through with your sister.”
I swallowed against the tightness of my throat. It felt like somebody held it in a fist. I couldn’t have spoken even if I had known what words to say.
“Kelson, I didn’t know what to expect when you came here.” He paused and a hint of humor touched his voice. “I’ll have to admit when you first showed up, I thought you were a useless city boy who didn’t know a swather from a backhoe.”
A begrudging smile crossed my face. “The last part was true.”
He chuckled. “I know, but you didn’t let that stop you. You threw everything into pulling your own weight around here. You even learned how to milk.”
I shrugged with my gaze still on the table. “Barbecue hates me.”
He let out a snort that was part humor, part derision. “It’s the name, most likely.” I laughed despite my mood and he continued, “I expected the city bit; what I didn’t expect was a boy I was proud to call my nephew.”
I glanced up at him warily, uncertain what I would see.
He gave me a warm smile, one of the few that ever crossed the stern farmer’s face. “The example you give my boys is one even I can’t hold a candle to.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then said, “If they turn out just like you, I couldn’t be more proud.”
I stared at him, amazed to hear so many compliments strung together and relating to me. He looked away as if embarrassed to be caught saying so many words. He jerked his head toward the oven. “Lauren saved you a plate of ribs and potatoes. You’ll regret it if you let them get cold.”
He rose and left out the back door as if anxious to put some distance between the mushiness that filled the kitchen. I slid the plate out of the oven and set to eating Aunt Lauren’s cooking with an appetite made doubly ravenous by Magnum’s overcooked eggs and my chicken nuggets abandoned on the cafeteria floor.
I WAS LOST IN my thoughts when Madelyn climbed onto the bus. A smile spread across my face at the sight of her, even with the worry that pinched her brow. I stood up and let her take the window seat she preferred, then sat down beside her.
“I thought you would be gone a few days,” I said, just happy to have her next to me once more.
“My mom’s going to be in the hospital for a while, so Aunt Masey brought me home. Dad worried about me missing school,” she explained.
I lifted my arm and she leaned against my side with a weary sigh. “I’ve missed you,” I said.
She gave me a small smile. “It’s only been a day since I saw you.”
“Two nights,” I replied. “Two nights without my Maddy. Those may have been the longest nights of my life.”
Warmth flooded her smile and filled my heart. “I’ve missed you too,” she said.
When we entered the school, tables lined the hallway. “What’s this?” I asked.
“College day,” Madelyn responded with a quiet sigh.
We wandered down the row looking at the different colleges. I picked up a few packets even though I hadn’t even begun to consider a field.
“With your grades, you should apply for a scholarship,” I told Madelyn.
She shook her head. “I’m staying in Sparrow.”
I wanted to protest, but the weight of her mother’s sickness rested heavily on her shoulders. I picked up a few extra applications in case she changed her mind, then escorted her to calculus.
“Everything will be all right, Maddy,” I said softly as I set her backpack at her feet.
She gave me a worried smile. “Thanks, Kelson. I appreciate it.”
I left her looking forlorn and lost. My heart ached at the sight. I wanted more than anything to sweep her away from it all, to see her smile without worry once more.
I wandered back up the hall and found Magnum staring hard at an application for a state college known for their football team.
I pretended to look at their brochure for band even though I didn’t play an instrument. “You could probably get in on a scholarship if you played for the Bulldogs the rest of this year,” I said in an undertone.
Magnum stared at me, shock clear on his face. “What makes you think I want to play again?” he demanded in a harsh whisper.
I gestured at the application. “Not too subtle.”
He cursed and set it back down. I picked it up and put it in my stack.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“Shh!” I cautioned.
He glanced around to make sure nobody was paying attention to us, then asked in a quieter tone, “What are you doing?”
I shrugged. “I have a friend who wants to apply.”
He looked at me for a minut
e, then shook his head and walked away.
Later that day during sixth-period physical education, I was surprised to see Magnum talking to Coach Farston. A few of the Bullets hung around him as well. I fought back a smile and finished jogging my laps around the track.
WHEN I CLIMBED OFF the bus, Jaren and Cole were waiting. They usually raced home the second their feet touched the dirt road, so their presence surprised me. Cassidy was already walking up the road talking animatedly to Sandy on her cell phone.
“C’mon, Kel. Let’s race,” Cole said, hopping from one foot to the other.
I shook my head. “I’m not much of a racer.”
Jaren gave me a weighted look. “If I heard right, the Black Rider was racing at the factory yesterday.”
I glanced at the bus, but it was already heading toward Madelyn’s, leaving us in a cloud of dust and exhaust. I waved the fumes away and took a better look at Jaren. It was obvious by his expression that something was bothering him.
I needed to head to the junkyard, but my dedication to the tasks Jagger sent out wavered greatly under their obvious uselessness.
“What’s going on?” I asked my cousin.
Jaren’s usual easy-going smile had disappeared. He ran a hand through his sun-blond hair and glanced at Cole. His brother had the sense to appear uninterested in our conversation. He dug for what I assumed to be bugs around the base of the mailbox.
Jaren let out a sigh that made him sound well older than his twelve years. “I want to apologize for what happened in the barn.”
I stared at him. It was the last thing I expected. My heart clenched away from the memories of that night and I shook my head. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing. You were nearly killed because of me.”
Jaren kicked a rock. He looked at Cole again, but the ten-year-old had climbed the fence and was following a trail through the alfalfa. Uncle Rick wouldn’t be happy about his son stomping down the hay, but I cared more about what Jaren had to say than repeating the same lecture Cole had heard a thousand times.
Jaren let out another breath. “I wasn’t supposed to be in the barn.” Before I could question whether I wanted to know the reason a farmer’s son snuck into a barn, he continued as though it was hard for him to say. “I was building a computer.”
He gave a small smile at my surprised look and confessed, “I’ve been collecting computer parts from school. Mr. Murphy let me take apart two computers he was going to throw away. I’ve been trying to build a better one by piecing them together.”
I tried to suppress a smile. “And Uncle Rick has no idea you like computers?”
He shook his head quickly. “He despises them. I told him once that I wanted one and he said I’d be better off with a bummer lamb to sell at the fair.”
I thought about Uncle Rick’s declaration that the Internet was a fad. To know that the farmer’s son had a passion for computers would have been hilarious if it wasn’t for Jaren’s woeful expression.
“You’ve been hiding them from him?”
He nodded. “The far corner of the barn has a closet Dad uses to store extra shovels and pitchforks. I rigged it with a light and have been using it as my workroom.”
A hint of trepidation touched my thoughts. “Are your computers the reason the barn burned down?” If an investigation showed as much, I doubted the insurance would replace the building.
He shook his head. “No. The fire started long before I realized it was even going. I smelled smoke and came out to find the building falling down.” He gave me an embarrassed look. “I guess that’s where you came in.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “Not that I helped much.” It was strange to talk about my weakness to him. His expression showed none of the scorn or derision I felt I deserved. Instead, a hint of awe touched his gaze.
“You lifted that beam pretty much by yourself,” he said in amazement.
I shook my head. “Your dad was there, and Magnum.”
“They tried, but they couldn’t do it.” He spoke faster in his excitement. “You were in front of the barn doors and they kept yelling to you because they couldn’t free me even though they tried several times. The beam was burning and I was worried everyone was going to die.” He blinked quickly to keep back the tears as he continued, “Then you ran over with a look on your face even a bull wouldn’t mess with. You picked up the beam and had it high enough for me to get out before Dad and Magnum could move to help.”
To hear it in Jaren’s words made the whole event surreal. It hadn’t felt that way to me. I had almost let my cousin die, and he acted as though I was his hero. “I chickened out, Jaren,” I forced myself to admit. “I got scared.”
He nodded as though that was the most normal thing in the world. “Of course you were scared. I was terrified! We all could have burned to death. But we didn’t.”
His last three words echoed through my mind, reminding me that I had survived a fire yet again and this time brought someone with me, the thing I had been unable to do when the warehouse burned.
He gave me a hopeful smile. “Are we all right?”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and nodded, squeezing his shoulder. “Yeah, we’re fine.”
“Good,” he concluded. He took a step toward the house, then glanced at me. “Wanna race?”
At that moment, the bell tolled from its stand behind the Ashbys’ residence. I wondered if Uncle Rick had been watching us, waiting for the reconciliation.
“You’re on,” I said.
He took off running and I followed close behind. Cole darted across the field, then ducked under the fence to fall in at our heels. The three of us stumbled into the mudroom laughing and jostling each other. We stopped at the sight of Uncle Rick standing in the kitchen next to several burlap bags.
“Ladybugs!” Cole exclaimed.
Cassidy appeared behind us. “Oh, gross,” she said. “Not again.”
Uncle Rick nodded. “Kelson, I already told Jagger I needed your help. The aphids are bad this year and we need to clear the alfalfa out.”
“With bags of ladybugs?” I asked doubtfully. I poked one of the sacks with a finger. It was full of something that moved subtly under my touch.
Mom came into the kitchen and gave me a hug. “How was your day?”
“It just got weirder,” I said, nodding toward the bags.
She gave a sympathetic smile. “I know. When Lauren told me they bought bugs, I about died.”
“We could have got spiders,” Cole teased.
Mom gave a visible shudder. “Then we’d be moving back to California.”
Uncle Rick laughed. “They’re just ladybugs. They’re harmless, really.”
“Except to aphids,” Cole expounded with a wicked grin. “Those little bugs won’t know what hit ‘em.”
“Or what ate them,” Jaren corrected.
Mom waved a hand, careful to stay far away from the bags. “Go have fun with your little bugs. Just make sure none of them follow you home.”
Cole picked up a sack and carried it to the mudroom to get his work shoes. “We’ll save you a few,” he called over his shoulder.
“Please don’t,” Mom replied.
Uncle Rick picked up two bags and motioned for the rest of us to do the same. Cassidy made a face, but carried her bags carefully to the backyard. “I don’t mind ladybugs by themselves. But so many of them together are scary.”
I didn’t understand what she meant until we carried the sacks to a field and opened the first one. Hundreds of the little spotted bugs crawled over my hands.
“Be free!” Cole yelled. He threw ladybugs in every direction. Some landed on Cassidy and she shrieked.
“Walk in a row,” Uncle Rick chastised. “They aren’t cheap little critters. I want to make sure they stay put.” He pulled out a handful and began to drop them as casually as if he was letting sand slip through his fingers.
I sighed and grabbed a handful from my bag, then kept pace a few feet
from him. After a few minutes, the feeling of millions of legs across my hands stopped bothering me. I let them fall in little clumps and watched them climb up the alfalfa, ready to begin their work of ridding the dark hay of aphids immediately.
“We work in the evening because ladybugs don’t like to fly at night,” Uncle Rick said. He appeared to be in a rare conversational mood. “This way, hopefully they’ll stick around.”
“Maybe they’ll have all the aphids eaten before the sun goes down,” I replied. I pulled another handful from the bag and spread it through the hay.
“That would be nice,” Uncle Rick agreed.
“Ew, one’s in my ear!” Cassidy shrieked. Cole laughed and Uncle Rick walked over to help her remove the invader.
By the time we called it quits, we had walked through eight different fields and left thousands of ladybugs in our wake. I pictured it as a surprise attack on the invading aphid army. It was satisfying to know Uncle Rick had told Jagger he needed my help. It wasn’t much, but I had assisted in the improvement of his fields and saw the satisfied look in his eyes because I had completed the task exactly as he needed. Even if it was just spreading bugs through the alfalfa, I had done something to better Uncle Rick’s farms.
We sat around the table and joked as we ate pork chops and the fresh asparagus Mom and Aunt Lauren had picked from the ditches close to the house.
“She was screaming like a girl,” Cole told his mom about Cassidy’s close encounter with the ladybug.
“I am a girl,” Cassidy replied with a sniff. “And it was in my ear.”
“I would have screamed too,” Mom told her with a sympathetic smile.
My cell phone rang. I gave Uncle Rick a sheepish smile. He didn’t approve of cell phones at the table.
“Go on; get it,” he said with a touch of humor.
I set my fork down moved into the hall for privacy. Cole waited in the doorway, but when I looked at him, he disappeared back into the kitchen.
I lifted the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
Concern filled me at the sound of sobbing I heard. “Kelson?”
“Maddy?” Her voice tore a hole through my heart.
