Lifting the Sky (26 page)

Pot struggled to lift his head. “Don't listen,” I whispered. He soaked up moods like a sponge, same as I did. How could I possibly work on Stew Pot with everything all stirred up like this? I took a breath.

I'd have to hurry if I was going to find Shawn before dark.

I felt as if I'd fallen apart and now had to gather up all the scattered pieces of myself. I closed my eyes and imagined I was outside soaking up the bright sunlight. I held my hands over Pot's wound and opened my eyes and watched as the light slowly grew. I could see Pot's lights growing brighter. I sat there with my hands over Pot's wound until
finally he relaxed. When he started to snore I took my hands away.

Pot's lights fluttered and grew dim.

I sat still and tried not to cry. It all felt so hopeless. How could I possibly leave him? What I'd been doing just wasn't enough. What had I been thinking? What if I'd been fooling myself all along? I stared at my hands. What a strange thing it was to even
think
they could heal. Maybe my dad was right. Maybe the best thing really would be to leave this desolate place. Maybe I'd gotten—what was the word?—“delusional.” I'd read about someone being that way and I'd looked the word up. It meant they'd had a false or mistaken belief or idea about something. That seemed to fit me to a tee.

The attic suddenly grew dark as a cloud covered the sun. I sighed. It was getting late. I pushed myself out of the beanbag and looked down at my sweet hero dog. In his rip-wrapped bandages he looked like a furry black caterpillar shedding its skin. I imagined a chrysalis of light forming around him. “Heal inside your silvery cocoon, little butterfly,” I whispered. “Only please. Please. Don't fly away while I'm gone….”

I grabbed my cap, slung my pack over my shoulder, and tiptoed down the stairs.

They were both in the kitchen. Mam stood with her hands on her hips, looking to me as if she'd grown ten inches taller. My dad had his head down as if he were studying his
boots. He looked up when I opened the door. “You going somewhere?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. I lifted a shoulder and shifted the pack on my back.

“But I am here! I am back!” my dad said. “You are angry about the chair, the little table, I know. That's a strange thing for a child to do. Building furniture? But I will fix the silly little things you made and make them good as new.” My dad beamed a smile at me. It was such a charming smile….

I shook my head.

“We will do it together,” he said. “Like a father-and-daughter team. I will show you how to make a much better chair. I will show you what I can do.”

“I think you've already shown me,” I said.

The words hung in the air. I imagined them lining up like beads on a string next to Mam's words. Mam and I looked at each other. My dad looked from me to my mom, but none of us spoke. In the silence I could hear my dad swallow.

My heart pounded as I stared at my dad, maybe really seeing him for the first time, and maybe even seeing him for the last.

Through the window behind him I could see the sun glinting off the roof of his new-model truck, see the dull rusty top of Ol' Yeller beside it. Our truck was so beat-up it was a wonder it even made it to the barn. But it had carried us here, and it could take us somewhere else, if
Mam and I decided to go. I had the feeling that we'd be making those decisions together from now on.

I looked at my mom, standing there holding her head tall. She had that look in her eyes. The one she got when she was zeroing in on a calf, about to twirl her rope and lasso it. If I'd been my dad, I'd have been careful.

“I've got to go,” I said before she could say anything.

Mam held up her hands as if to say “Wait!” but I kept on.

“Stew Pot's upstairs. He's in bad shape. He had a war with a wolf. Please check on him and take him to the veterinarian. I gave him a big shot of penicillin and doused him with antiseptic. But he's hurt bad and you'll have to take care of him.”

I walked to my dad and reached a hand up to his neck. He bent down and I kissed him on the cheek. I touched his scar with one finger. He reached out for me, but I stepped away. “Bye, Papa,” I said. I turned to Mam. “Don't worry,” I said. “I think I know where Shawn is, but I can't explain it.”

I was out the door before she could question me.

“Oh. I forgot,” I called over my shoulder. “Don't have a heart attack when you go into the bathroom.”

I got hung up before I even got started. How had I forgotten about my backpack when I tried to go through the fence? And then, what with my hands not working quite right, it took ages to get all untangled. Down by the
house a truck revved up, backfired, and roared down the road. I stood without moving, counting the seconds it took for the sounds to fade. Three minutes exactly was all it took for my dad to roar out of my life.

“Put one foot in front of the other,” he'd said. That's what I did. Walked away, slowly, not looking back, taking forever to hike up my hill.

Maybe it was just the late-afternoon sun striking my tree, but its lights seemed brighter than ever. It seemed to glow as if it'd become some sort of holy place.

I pulled Grub's eye out of my pocket and found it a little nook in the shaggy bark of the juniper's trunk. I thought of a zillion wishes. Finally I boiled them all down into one.

“Just let everything be for the better.” I sighed. “Thanks.”

I shielded my eyes and looked out from my hill. Far, far away, over the Owl Creeks, the stacked clouds had reared up into scary dark thunderheads. Far below, along the stretch of road that led to the highway, red dust ghosts trailed behind a small speck, playing peekaboo as they passed behind hills. I watched the dust billow up as the speck on the road suddenly stopped.

I couldn't breathe. In my head I could see him. My dad, sparks flying as he pounded the steering wheel with his fists while the dust settled around his pickup. He was thinking about turning around and racing back up the road to the ranch and running after me and grabbing me up in his arms and begging me to forgive him. I could see
him turning all pretty rainbow colors as he told me how happy he was to have found us again, and how it didn't matter one bit that my mom sold his guitar because it was really me he'd come back for, and not that stupid guitar.

He almost did this, I know.

For a long time the truck sat there. But then the ghost dusts rose once again, and when they reached the highway I lost him.

I bit my lip, trying to hold back a sob. Then I turned away. I'd wasted too much time. Already the thunderheads pawed at the sky. I fanned my face with my cap. At least it wouldn't be quite so hot with all those clouds coming in. I scanned the mountains to pinpoint the spot marked by the shale landslide where I thought Shawn might be. If I hurried, I could get there in, what? I calculated the distance. Two miles, maybe, going slantways over the hills to the edge of the deep forest. Then I'd have to go up into the trees to get to the point across from the landslide landmark. From there I'd climb down into the gorge. Shawn had said something about the cave being hard to spot if you didn't come upon it from above. But I'd find it. If I jogged all the way, it shouldn't take long….

I launched myself over the ledge and slipped and slid down the hill, almost crashing into the tree where Shawn always left Tivo.

I should've saddled a horse!

No one would've objected. I could run back. Catch a horse…

I almost did. I even took a few steps. But no. Mam
would certainly see me, and she'd be so full of questions and doubts that it'd make my own worries worse, and I'd want to run up and check on Stew Pot, and then I'd never, ever tear myself away….

Eyes on the ground, one foot in front of the other, I started off. I climbed the hill Shawn and I had ridden up with me on the back of Tivo. At least I didn't have to cross the creek—I was headed in the opposite direction this time. Once I was on the high ground that stretched up toward the mountains I could jog along at a good pace. Dodging prairie dog holes, prickly cactus, and gnarly sagebrush, ignoring the grasshoppers that flit up and out of my path, I ran.

I hadn't gone far when I tripped. Gasping and trying hard not to cry, I blinked up at the mountains looming ahead, and at the dark clouds sneaking down over their tops. Suddenly the whole day caved in around me. I slumped over my knees. I had to be totally bonkers. What had I been
thinking
? I'd have as much luck finding Shawn as I would a tick on a bear.

I'll go back,
I thought as I sat nursing my knees.
I'll call Clyde and tell him my weird little story and get help with this search
. It was only because of everything going on at the house that I'd run off like I had—who could blame me?

I rubbed my knees, picked the burrs out of my socks, and was about to scramble up when I felt rather than heard something behind me. I twisted around.

They could've dropped out of the sky, Lone One and Light of the Dawn. They'd come up so quietly, Lone One
with that mischievous look in her eyes. Sure enough, she tucked her head down. I jumped up, holding my hands out in front of me as she charged. The small horny black bumps on her head dug into my hands as she pushed hard against me. I skidded backward. But—it wasn't a bad butt. More like a nudge, really, as if she just wanted to have fun, the way I'd seen antelopes playing butting games with one another.

Something inside me soared as a thought struck me.
If I start running, they'd be so curious they'd run after me.

I spun around and took off.

In about two seconds they'd sprinted right past me. I followed behind. Even a lame antelope could run faster than I could, but having them ahead of me spurred me on. I ran as fast as I could—faster than ever I'd run before. After a while the fawn dropped down, panting, behind a sagebush. Far ahead, Lone One stopped, looked back, and waited for me before she took off once again. “You're too fast,” I yelled when all I could see was the white flag of her rump. It didn't matter that sometimes I couldn't even see her because of all the gullies and hills; she'd taken off in the right direction. It was almost as if she were following along those strange lines of energy that led toward the cave.

I ran past my tiredness and worries, ran past my heaviness, ran till my hurts didn't hurt anymore. Ran till I felt like I'd burst through a barrier and was floating along on pure air.

I barely noticed the cows lifting their heads as I darted by. I didn't pay attention to the winds picking up, or to the gloomy clouds bubbling and boiling around me. And
I didn't even see the flash of white light but I heard its furious
crack!
and I hit the ground hard.

“Cripes almighty,” I said into the dirt as I plastered my hands to my ears. I couldn't tell where the lightning had struck, but it hadn't been far away. I peeked through my fingers at the tan blur streaking back down toward her fawn.
Please stay safe,
I thought.
I couldn't have made it without you….

I ducked as another silvery flash ripped through the sky and slashed into the forest behind me. I squeezed my eyes shut as thunder boomed over the hills and rumbled and roared down the canyons. When the echoing grumbles faded away I lifted my head.

It was only a skip and a jump to the shelter of the forest. I scrambled up and ran for it. Brushing aside branches as I dashed into the trees, I stumbled over a dead limb and sprawled on the ground. Looking up, I saw that the tree nearest me was a huge fir with branches hanging down to the ground. Crawling on hands and knees, I wiggled under its droopy branches. A thick carpet of brown needles covered the ground. Shrugging the pack off my back, I yanked out my long-sleeved shirt, crammed my arms into it, and then pulled out my bottle of water. While I guzzled it I pulled out my sack of trail mix. I shifted it from one hand to the other. Then I held up the bottle and frowned at how much I'd drunk. I took one more swig and jammed the bottle back into my pack, along with the trail mix.

I'd better save it for Shawn. He'll be even thirstier than I am, and a lot hungrier too.

I thought about how everything that had happened today had gone as wrong as it possibly could. The day had for sure hit rock bottom.

I covered my ears as a deafening boom shattered the air and shook the ground around me. My hands trembled as I cleared away twigs and branches and burrowed down into the soft carpet of needles. I curled up with my pack for a pillow and lay listening to the deep, low rumblings.

My first thought when I opened my eyes was that it was early dawn of a brand-new day. In a split second it hit me that it wasn't. I bolted up with a start, my mind racing now. I rubbed my eyes and uncurled myself, squinting out through the scraggly branches.

The sun was going down, not coming up. I must've slept for at least several hours. Cripes. I waited for what seemed like hours until the storm finally drifted away. I'd really have to get a move on if I was going to find Shawn before dark.

I grabbed my pack and crawled out of my green cave and stumbled to the edge of the forest.
At least the worst is over,
I thought as I stood brushing off dirt and needles. The wind had picked up, but the storm had drifted away and now the sky to the east had turned dark and scary looking. Still, with all that blustery show, not one drop of rain had fallen. That didn't seem fair. This whole forest
was so dry and thirsty-looking it was practically begging for rain.

I started off, walking as fast as I could along the edge of the forest. I hadn't gone far when a blister popped up on one heel. A bit farther on I doubled over with a stitch in my side. I plopped down and tugged off my boot. Shook it. Picked the burrs out of my socks. Took a deep breath.