The Borrowed World Series | Book 8 | Blood & Banjos
Page 40
“I would.”
“Kay, would you?”
Kay nodded.
Everyone around the fire was asked the same question and they all agreed. If they’d been in Lloyd’s situation, facing a man holding a knife on Tara, they’d have done exactly the same thing.
“Then I want each of you to pick up a handful of grass,” Sharon said.
Each of the children reached down beside their seats and plucked a large handful of grass.
“Now cup it in your hands and I want you to whisper to it. I want you to tell it what you remember of today. Tell it the story—the true story—and this will be the last time you ever speak of it.”
She allowed each child as long as they needed. Some, like Tara, had a lot to say and spent several minutes whispering into their cupped hands.
When everyone was done, Sharon confirmed it. “That everyone?”
They all nodded.
“Then stand up and throw your grass into the fire. Let the truth burn away. The old story is gone and the new story is now the truth. We forget everything that happened today and we let it go.”
Each child did as they were told, throwing their clumps of grass into the circle of fire. The green strands curled and burned, going from green to red to black, then disappearing into the greater ash of the fire.
The next day they’d practiced the story several times but it wasn’t until now, until Kendall and Freda’s visit, that they’d had the opportunity to practice it on outsiders. Lloyd couldn’t be certain how it was going inside, but Nathan had passed with flying colors.
“Wonder what them danged old buzzards is circling,” Kendall remarked, noticing the birds. “Couldn’t see them from my place.”
“It’s a coyote,” Lloyd said, afraid that if he didn’t have an answer, Kendall might go investigate on his own. “I shot him in the yard then hauled him off to the cornfield. It’s too hot to stand out there burying a varmint.”
“Yeah, I thought I heard someone shooting at something the other day. No big deal. You’ll hear some shooting around here. Folks killing a deer or slaughtering livestock. That kind of thing.”
“Yeah, I didn’t want it scaring the children,” Lloyd offered.
“Everything else going okay?” Kendall asked.
“Sure is. I’m helping them get settled in,” Lloyd replied. “I think they’ll be a lot more comfortable here.”
“I’ll like having you around too,” Kendall said. “Good to have another man you can depend on. That friend of yours, Jim, seemed like a good guy but he was wound a little too tight for me. We’re better off having a banjo player in the neighborhood than someone like that. Most musicians I know are peaceful folk. Wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Lloyd grinned. “I don’t know, Kendall. Reckon there could be some dangerous banjo players out there.”
Kendall’s laugh started as a chuckle, then turned into a deep belly laugh. His face turned red as his laughter filled the valley. “A dangerous banjo player. That’s a good one.”
Lloyd winked at Nathan. “Get your guitar, boy. Let’s play some Little Liza Jane.”
The End