A Perfect Snow

by Nora Martin

  Outside, Eden said, “I’m sorry about my folks. They do the question routine to everyone.”

  “I like them,” I told her. And I realized it was true. They weren’t exactly the kind of people I was used to. But I did like them.

  We sat in the theater and the movie played on the screen, but I didn’t see any of it. I couldn’t take my eyes off Eden. As I looked at her face in the light from the screen, I became absorbed in watching her watch the film.

  “You’re supposed to look at the movie,” Eden whispered when she noticed me. She leaned close to me. I could smell her warm skin. It was a good smell, kind of like fir needles with something sweet combined. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out and touching her hair.

  Eden laughed and smiled at the story in front of her. When she turned slightly toward me I could see the movie reflected in her eyes. She moved her head close as if to whisper something, a small laugh lighting her features. Instead of listening, I kissed her. And she returned it.

  In the lobby after the movie we saw Jason Johnson and Jill with a couple other guys from school. They saw us too.

  I took Eden’s arm and pulled her away from where they were going. “Let’s go out the side door,” I said.

  Back in her driveway I brought the truck to a stop and turned off the engine. We sat silently in the dark until she finally said, “Don’t mind those kids like Jason and Jill. You were right about them getting kicks from cutting other people down, but you just can’t take it personally.”

  “I don’t mind,” I lied. I wanted to move in close to Eden. I wanted to taste her skin again. It seemed as if nothing but being close mattered now.

  “My mom and dad thought it was wonderful that you rescued me from the snowdrift.” She scooted over on the seat until she was sitting right next to me. Her hand stroked my cheek as if asking a question.

  “They’re okay,” I said truthfully.

  I smelled her again and my hands moved around her waist. I saw her lift her mouth to be kissed. Kissing her was like stepping off the edge of a cliff into the clouds.

  Eden sat for a moment longer, then whispered, “Good night, Ben.” But we had moved beyond the need for words. She got out of the truck. I watched her dark shape rush into the house.

  Chapter Eight

  Dust

  All weekend I thought of nothing but seeing Eden again. On Monday I immediately went toward her locker looking for her. As I came close I saw Jason Johnson standing there with his girlfriend, Jill. They surrounded Eden. No one saw me coming, but I could hear them.

  “How could you stand it?” Jill asked Eden.

  “She was just using him for his body,” Jason answered for Eden.

  “What is with you?” Eden asked. “At least Ben Campbell has something different to talk about. He knows a different kind of world. He knows a different kind of Montana life. He’s very interesting.”

  “Cow punching. Fascinating!” Jill sneered.

  “Come on,” Jason said. “We want to hear all the details. What’s it like in the front seat of a truck? Did you have to move the farm tools or are they part of the fun?”

  That was all I could stand. Eden was flushed and squirming to get away. I walked up behind them.

  “Oh, look. The man himself,” Jill said.

  “Campbell.” Jason sounded surprised that I was there. I even think he turned red in the face, as if he were a little kid caught doing something naughty.

  “That’s enough, don’t you think?” I asked them.

  “We were just fooling around, Campbell.” Jason leaned against the locker with his arms folded across his chest. “Nothing serious.”

  Jill was not so light about it. Her smug look contained everything that was wrong with this place and my life. She mumbled under her breath, “So, you’re trying to sleep your way out of trailer town.”

  In the narrow tunnel of my anger all I could see was her face, her smooth cheeks and neatly arranged hair. At that moment I really thought I was going to punch a girl.

  Jason stepped in. “Hey, Jill, give these lovers a rest.”

  Before I even realized he was trying to help me out, I hauled back and slammed my fist into his jaw. And in that one punch all the anger that I’d thought had dissolved spurted through my fist and right into Johnson’s face. As my knuckles made contact I realized, Jason didn’t do anything to deserve this. But it was too late to stop the forward motion of my hand.

  “Goddamn it, Campbell,” Jason mumbled, and he swung right back at me.

  The next thing I knew, Jason was on the floor and I was being hauled off by two teachers.

  When I finally became aware of what was going on I heard Eden saying, “Stop it, Ben.”

  Johnson was sitting up slowly, shaking his head and wiping the blood from his nose.

  Jill kneeled down beside him but spoke to me. “You’re an animal. Jason didn’t do anything.”

  I looked at Eden but she turned away. Everything drained out of me then, even my breath.

  “Both of you.” Mr. Grathman, one of the math teachers, motioned to Jason and me. “Come with me.” He led the way to Hard-Ass Harrison’s office again.

  We had to wait in chairs in the office just outside Mr. Harrison’s door. The secretary brought Jason a wet cloth for his face. The bell rang, classes started. With nothing to say, we had to sit side by side. I could smell the scent of shampoo on Jason. There were drops of dried blood crusted brown on the perfectly pressed fabric of his pants. I leaned forward, cupping my head in my hands. It was the only place to hide. Sweat had dried to a salty powder in my eyebrows.

  Halfway through the period Trenton Biggs came in. I saw his face through the glass of the office door. In an instant I was standing outside his house again seeing the fear in his eyes as my rock went screaming in. But he wasn’t looking at me. Trenton was looking at Johnson.

  Jason nodded at Trenton. Trenton went to the counter in front of us and waited for the secretary, his back turned to us.

  “Do you know him?” I whispered to Jason.

  “Of course I do,” Jason said right out loud. “I grew up in this town. We were in second and third grades together. Weren’t we, Trenton?”

  At that Trenton turned around and nodded back at Jason. But all he muttered was a gruff, “Yeah.”

  “Trenton, this is Ben Campbell.” Jason talked on, as if Trenton were dying for conversation instead of trying to avoid us. “I suggest that you, Trenton, stay out of this guy’s way. He has a tendency to attack anything that looks even slightly amiss.”

  “Hey, I’m ...” I tried to gather my feelings together. “There’s been a bunch of tough things going down lately.” My voice sounded wilted and torn.

  “Man,” Jason went on, “I’d hate to be the one to tell you your dog died. Trenton, I suggest you do not mess with the Ben guy.”

  Trenton had finished his business with the secretary and with one look at me scurried out.

  Jason said after he had left, “Trenton’s a bit of a lacey boy, but he’s all right. Real smart.”

  “Look, I’m sorry I came down on you.” I finally spit out the words. I didn’t know why saying sorry was so hard. I was sorry. I hated the fact that anger had taken over my brain, if it even was anger. Maybe it was just habit. Which, if true, made me feel even worse. I wanted to feel like I had the day before, when I was mentally planning the neighborhood cleanup. Or even better, how I felt when I was with Eden.

  Jason looked at me with a different expression on his face. Finally, after a long silence, he said, “I think maybe I had that punch coming.”

  Before I could answer him, Mr. Harrison opened his door and beckoned us to come in. He had two folders on his desk that he looked at after sitting down.

  “Second fight in just over a month,” he said without looking up. “The last time you both served in-school suspension. Obviously sitting you on your rears doesn’t send much of a message. I think we sign you up for a month’s worth of community service in the
afternoons.” He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him and staring at us both.

  Jason turned on his polite talking-to-an-authority-figure voice, the one I can never do. “I can explain what happened today, Mr. Harrison.”

  “I’m not interested,” Mr. Harrison answered.

  “It’s my fault,” I said suddenly. “Jason didn’t do anything.”

  Mr. Harrison looked like he didn’t believe me or didn’t care.

  “What kind of community service?” Jason asked.

  “I have a friend who is building low-income apartments,” Mr. Harrison said. “You will go help the construction crew. It’s made up of all volunteers.”

  “In December?” Jason asked. “In Montana?”

  “Yes.” Mr. Harrison smiled.

  I thought that maybe the smile was from imagining Jason Johnson in his expensive clothes wading through mud and slush.

  “When do we start?” I asked.

  “Randy Mansfield is the volunteer director for the program. You can report to him tomorrow on North Nineteenth Avenue. Every day, after school, three to six o’clock.” Mr. Harrison turned to Jason. “Any questions?”

  “I’ll be there,” he said. It amazed me that even now he sounded full of confidence, as if he were accepting a compliment instead of a punishment. I envied his smoothness.

  “Good,” Mr. Harrison declared. “Has either of you worked construction before?”

  “No,” I answered.

  Jason shook his head.

  “Well, dress warmly,” he said. “You may both go back to class now.”

  As soon as we were outside the office, Jason said, “Thanks, Campbell. That’s just what I need. Four weeks of freezing my butt off for a bunch of welfare wimps.”

  I shrugged. But I could hear in his voice that he really wasn’t mad. I couldn’t understand it. And the very next sentence surprised me even more.

  “You want to ride over to the job together?” he asked me.

  I stopped and just stared at him in surprise. I shrugged again. “Why not?”

  I hadn’t told David any details of my punishment other than that I would be working after school every day for a month. I didn’t say anything to my parents. I didn’t think they’d really notice since I’d be home by dinnertime anyway.

  I was instantly sorry the next afternoon when I met Jason in the parking lot. Two rows over was David standing with Chuck. I think both my brother and I were wearing the same shocked expression on our faces as I got into Jason’s car and he got into Chuck’s.

  Jason saw me staring and shook his head. “You let your brother hang out with that guy?”

  “What’s wrong with Chuck?” I asked, trying to sound as if I didn’t really know who he was.

  “He is definitely trouble,” Jason answered.

  “Look who’s talking,” I argued. “We’re both being sent into hard labor for being just that, trouble.”

  “Okay,” Jason said. “I can be a real bastard. But I know the difference between spoiled-brat bad and total evil. That guy is evil. He hates everybody.”

  “How do you know?” Standing there looking at Chuck while hearing Jason talk about him, I suddenly found myself thinking about the vandalism, the car, the shooting at the building. I wondered why those incidents felt different from throwing the rocks through Trenton Biggs’s window.

  “The guy was kicked out of school for breaking into the building and trashing the cafeteria and office four years ago, when he was a sophomore,” Jason said. “He has several stints in juvenile detention.”

  I wasn’t surprised. Jason was right. Chuck hated everybody. Lonn hated everybody. Even me. Even David.

  Chapter Nine

  Cracks

  Randy Mansfield met Jason and me at the construction site and immediately put shovels into our hands. For me it was not too different from working on the ranch, and the time went fast. It wasn’t so easy for Jason. After about ten minutes he was looking at his watch.

  “You have to find a rhythm to the work,” I told him. “Then you don’t even notice how long you’ve been at it.”

  Jason just shook his head. “There is nothing the least bit absorbing about this tool.” He held the shovel close in front of him as if he were looking at one for the first time.

  It wasn’t long before Randy saw that I knew how to work. He moved me to actually putting up boards and asked if I would show Jason everything I did. So I had Jason hand tools up to the roof, where two other guys and I were pounding nails.

  Straddling the rafters, I could see far beyond the town to the mountains that rimmed the valley. Each chiseled peak was a different shape and shade in the shadowed afternoon light. Being that far off the ground made me a little dizzy. But I lifted my arms and let my head get light. The town and roads disappeared out of my vision range.

  Jason caught me staring off into the distance on his next trip up the ladder. “That triangular mountain is Mt. Blackmore.” He pointed south. “Over there is Garnet Peak.”

  “You know all of them?” I still watched but lowered my arms to grip the solid building frame.

  “Jeez, Cowboy.” He grinned. “You forget that I grew up here. Hey, do you ski?”

  I had to laugh. “At forty bucks a day? Get real.” The rich have no idea about money.

  “Backcountry.” Jason pointed again to Mt. Blackmore. “Hike up, ski down. Doesn’t cost a cent. We have a massive collection of skis in the garage that you can use. Want to go Saturday? We’ll ask Eden and—”

  I cut him off. “Not Jill!”

  “Right,” he agreed. “We’ll just ask Eden to invite someone to go along.”

  “Maybe,” was all I could say. I really didn’t know if I wanted to go or not. Jason lived in a different world. A world I didn’t understand. He let the subject drop.

  The volunteer construction crew was made up of about fifteen people. They all dribbled in, coming from jobs or home. When finished, the project would be three buildings with four apartments in each one. Right now two of the foundations had wooden skeletons standing on them. The volunteers could work only a few hours a day, so progress was slow.

  On my second day of working I had watched David once again drive off with Chuck, this time to the regular Wednesday meeting. When Jason and I showed up at the site there was a handful of people already starting. I heard my name called from the group.

  “Ben!”

  “Aunt Jana!” I was surprised. “What are you doing here?”

  “I work every Wednesday after I finish emptying all those bedpans up in the wards.” She twirled her hammer as if it were a six-shooter.

  “But I could ask what you’re doing here,” Aunt Jana continued. “Somehow the idea of community work and the name Campbell just don’t blend real well.”

  Despite being a nurse, Aunt Jana knew her way around tools. She and my mom had grown up working on a ranch every summer. Real work, not just in the kitchen. Both sisters could always do as much as a regular full-time ranch worker. When she was younger, Aunt Jana could even rope steers.

  “I’ve been trying to get your mom out here with me,” Aunt Jana explained. “But she needs some time.”

  I agreed but didn’t say so. Mom still wasn’t herself.

  Jason extended his hand to my aunt. “I’m Jason Johnson. Ben’s partner in crime.”

  “We’re working here for a month as punishment for fighting in school,” I told her straight out, and then added, “I didn’t tell the folks.”

  “I guess I’ll have to keep an eye on you, then,” she decided. She shook her head. “Since when did you become a fighter, anyway? It sure didn’t come from my side of the family.”

  Before I could figure out how to respond, my aunt Jana and Jason were starting work, side by side. She said to Jason, “I was planning to grill up some burgers when we finish here. Why don’t you and Ben stop by?”

  “I cannot refuse food,” Jason said with a grin. “Ben?”

  “Sure.” I cou
ldn’t get over how easily Jason seemed to be able to talk to people. Sometimes he sounded insincere, like when he was talking to Trenton Biggs, but I was starting to think he really did want to be friendly.

  What could people as different as my aunt and Jason Johnson find to talk about? I worked close enough to hear their conversation. Jason was telling Aunt Jana about skiing. Aunt Jana told Jason about one of the other nurses who had been a ski racer when she was our age. Then she talked about some of the more interesting medical cases they had had at the hospital. They must not have known I was listening because I heard Jason start to tell my aunt about the fights we had.

  “Man,” Jason said, “Ben’s got a temper on him. But I gotta admit that both times he was sticking up for the low dog. I was the one being a smart-ass.”

  When I heard him I felt awful. It wasn’t true. I thought of Trenton Biggs, low dog of low dogs. Blast it, I yelled in my head. I didn’t hurt Trenton. He doesn’t even know me. Forget him. But I couldn’t push those thoughts away.

  After dinner with Aunt Jana I was eager to get home. I wanted to find out from David what happened at the meeting. But he wasn’t there. Dad said he’d gone somewhere with Chuck and Travis. That didn’t settle well in my stomach. I felt like I needed to be with him, looking out for him.

  It was late when he came in. I sat up in bed. “Where’ve you been?”

  “Out.” I could see the excitement like a sweaty sheen on his face.

  “Doing what?” I continued.

  He stared at me. “Driving around.”

  “I know those guys, David. They don’t just drive around.” As I spoke, my own voice sounded foreign to me. I sounded like some television dad grilling his son.

  David must have heard it too. He laughed with a surprised tone of realization in his voice. “You don’t like being left behind! Well, now you know how it feels being the one stuck in the crack while everyone just goes on without you.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked him.

  “Don’t you remember that time up in the cliffs behind the ranch when you had those two kids from school over? We were playing raiders and I got my foot wedged in the rock crack. I yelled and yelled for you guys to help me, but you just kept on going.”