Saving Sky (10 page)

I
T WAS THEIR FIRST DAY
back after Christmas break.

Sky's group sat at a different table in the library now, over by the bank of windows. It was a little warmer there, and had more light. But the room was still cold, and the mood was glum.

Stef was in a rotten mood. She had nothing but complaints to offer. Her house was freezing. They hadn't been able to get much wood to burn in the fireplace; and even then, you practically had to sit on the hearth to get any warmth from it at all. They hadn't gone anywhere for the entire vacation (not that there was anywhere to go: no movies, no shopping, no nothing). They hadn't even had a Christmas tree; and there were hardly any presents, just the few things her mom had already bought before everything fell apart.

Oh, and their food really sucked.

“Cut it out, Stef,” Graciela said. “It's the same for everybody.”

“I bet
you
had a tree,” Stef said to Sky, ignoring Graciela. “I bet you just went out and cut one.”

“We don't do Christmas trees,” Sky said.

“Oh, right. You pray to the moon or something.”

Graciela stood up, gathered her things together, and moved to another table. Stef kept right on going.

“I bet you have lights out there. Right? All solar powered and everything?”

“Yes.”

“And heat.”

“We have a wood-burning stove.”

“That works.”

“Yes, it works.”

“And hot water, too, I bet.”

Sky heaved an exasperated sigh.

“You do, don't you?”

“Yes, Stef. We have hot water. Feel free to come out and take a shower anytime.”

This was not feeling good to her at all. “I have to use the restroom,” she said.

When she came back, everyone was getting up to leave. Mrs. Simmons must have called “time.” The bell no longer rang.

Sky waited till Stef had gone, then followed the crowd down the breezeway toward the main building.

Suddenly she stopped and ducked behind a post. She'd caught sight of Gerald, surrounded by a bunch of boys. There seemed to be a lot of giggling; he looked ready to punch someone.

Sky wasn't going anywhere near
that
. She'd give him five minutes. Surely he'd have gone to class by then.

“You hiding from someone?” It was Mrs. Chavez.

“No,” Sky said without thinking.

“Really?”

“Well, actually—Gerald.”

“Ah.” She was clearly amused. “Well, he seems to be gone now. And we'd better make it snappy or we're going to be late.”

They continued together down the breezeway, now almost clear of students. It felt weird walking with a teacher like that, as though they were friends or something. She couldn't think of anything to say.

“I've been meaning to tell you,” Mrs. Chavez said. “That was a wonderful essay you wrote.”

“Oh, thanks. I was just lucky, I guess, that I hadn't planned to do PowerPoint or anything. That was kind of a problem for everybody else. With the electricity out and all.”

“It's an
essay
contest, Sky. It always has been. Pictures,
and music, and animation and all—they're fun, I know. But mostly they're just window dressing. The essays are meant to stand on their own. And yours had all the flash and dazzle built right in.”

They'd reached Mrs. Chavez's classroom now, but the teacher stopped before going in and touched Sky's shoulder with a gentle hand.

“I've never had an essay before that was so…heart-felt.”

Sky flushed with pleasure. “I was afraid it might be, like, too
critical
.”

“No, it was thoughtful and incredibly honest. And what you said about your feelings for your country—
despite
its problems and imperfections—that's what real love is all about, you know. Not fanatical devotion. I'm very proud of you, young lady. I asked you to think, and that's exactly what you did.”

She gave Sky's shoulder a squeeze, then went into the classroom.

Sky continued down the hallway, trying to remember what the teacher had said, word for word, so she could repeat it to her parents later.

She saw Travis and Javier over by the water fountain. They were laughing, too. What was so hilarious all of a sudden? It made her a little uneasy. Could it—

She felt a hand on her arm, gripping her like a vise.
“Ow!” she said, turning around.

Gerald's trademark smirk was gone. He just looked angry now. “You're going to be
so
sorry,” he said.

A group of girls passed them and giggled. Sky heard “hamster” and “pooped his pants,” and Gerald squeezed even harder. She'd have a bruise there, no question.

“It wasn't me,” she said. “I swear I didn't say a word!”

“Oh, sure.”

“Honest! Cross my heart! Travis
begged
me to tell, and I told him to go away.”

“Yeah, and yet somehow he knows all about it. I wonder how that happened.”

“It had to be somebody else. There are at least six kids here who went to Alta Vista. It could have been any of them.”

“They weren't in our class, Sky.”

Actually, she realized, one of them was. Clayton Bracewell, a smart kid, a bit of a nerd, an occasional victim of Gerald's hilarity. Travis, so determined to learn the secret, must have spent
days
asking around (
“Did any of you go to Alta Vista?”
) until sooner or later he'd come to Clayton.
He
had no particular reason to keep Gerald's secret. After all, when the class bully opens up the hamsters' cage and stupidly expects the little critters to wait there patiently while he picks them up and stuffs them into the teacher's desk drawer, only instead they dash away like a bunch of
escaped convicts, and then one of them happens to run up Gerald's pant leg and causes him to scream and let loose with the waterworks
and
the brown stuff, both simultaneously—well, that's the sort of story that's really fun to share. Especially if somebody asks.

For a split second Sky thought of bringing up Clayton's name. But she knew it wouldn't help. Gerald had nothing to lose now. Everybody already knew. All he had left was Sky's secret, and the prospect of revenge.

“Gerald, please!” She was more than willing to grovel if that would do any good. “It wasn't me. It wasn't! I'd be
crazy
to tell. Let go of my arm.”

He shoved her up against the lockers and got right in her face. He was more than just angry, Sky realized. He was on the verge of tears. Gerald the bully was ruined. He would never get over this. She almost felt sorry for him.

“
Think
about it!” she pleaded. “
Why
would I tell? What's in it for me?”

“You'll find out,” he said, giving her a shake and finally letting her go.

“No, Gerald! Please!” she called after him.

But it was too late. He was already gone.

T
HEY'D PLANNED TO GO OUT
on a sunset ride that very same afternoon. It would be Kareem's first trail ride, and his first time off the Brightmans' property in almost three months. Everyone was really looking forward to it.

The route they would take—the only one that was safe for Kareem, and also by far the nicest—was known in the family as “the back way.” It was accessed through the back gate, as the name implies; but it didn't lead to any road, just a narrow trail they had blazed themselves into the remotest part of the beautiful, unspoiled Pecos Wilderness. It was parkland, mountainous and green, with towering ponderosa pines and meadows with creeks running through them. There were ancient pueblo ruins out there, and the remains of an old adobe church, and petroglyphs, and any number of their own special, secret places.
Sky couldn't wait to share it with Kareem.

Only now it was totally spoiled. She couldn't think about sunsets and beautiful places. Her mind was stuck on Gerald, and what he'd threatened to do.

Nobody else blamed her for it. Not her mom, or her dad—not even Kareem. It meant they'd have to be even more careful now, since the agents would surely be back. Luke would make some minor adjustments to the false wall in the feed room. And they'd put Kareem's paintings in there, too, just to be on the safe side. It would be all right. The hiding place had worked before, and it would work again.

But Sky was in a deep blue mood, and she refused to be forgiven. She'd made such a holy muddle of things, starting with the blackmail, which was stupid, stupid,
stupid
! She'd needlessly dredged up a humiliating episode in the life of a notorious bully, knowing perfectly well what he was capable of. And though it
looked like
she'd done it to save Kareem from Gerald, she knew that wasn't the whole story. She'd also been trying to save herself, to wipe her slate clean of guilt and shame over her failure that day at Home Depot.

Oh, she was such an
unbelievable failure
at
everything
! Either she stood timidly by while injustice was done, or she acted on these harebrained, impulsive notions that only made things—

“Sky!”
Ana said. “This isn't helping. Get over it! And…” She checked her watch. “…if you're going on that ride, you'd better hop to it.”

Strange, the power Ana had to knock nonsense out of your head. It had long been a source of wonder to Sky, and she was deeply grateful for it now.

“Okay,” she said, wiping her tears. “Let's do it.”

The weather had been crisp and clear all day. But by the time they got the horses saddled, steel-gray clouds were beginning to gather behind the northwest mountains.

“You'd better keep an eye on that,” Luke said. “Come back early if it starts to snow.”

“We will.”

“You refilled your saddle packs, Sky?”

“Yes, Daddy. Always.”

“I'll go on ahead to open the gate,” Mouse said. Luke was still adjusting Kareem's stirrups, and she was tired of waiting.

“Okay,” Sky said. “We'll be along in a minute.”

Mouse gave Peanut a little kick, and they trotted off.

“Stand up in the stirrups, Kareem,” Luke said. “Let me have a look-see.”

Kareem rose a few inches out of the saddle.

“How's it feel?”

“Fine.”

“If they're too short, your knees will hurt.”

“I know. They're all right.”

“Then I guess you're good to go. Take it easy, Sky. All right? It's Kareem's first time out.”

“I will, Daddy.”

“That's what you always say.”

“This time I mean it.”

“And keep an eye on—”

“The weather. Got it.”

They were just leaving the barn, with Mouse well out of sight, maybe already at the gate, when they heard the sound of a motor coming at them very fast. They turned and stared, dumbstruck, as a silver van came speeding around the curve and up the drive.

“I don't believe it,” Luke said, aghast. “They
cut our fence
!”

In the Old West, that was a hanging offense. It still amounted to breaking and entering. Luke sprinted back to the house, beside himself with rage.

“Go! Go!” Sky called to Kareem.

He nudged Blanca with his heels and she began to walk, though not very fast.

“Harder!”

Blanca shifted to a fast walk.

The agent with the ginger mustache jumped out of the van and thundered up the steps to the
portal.

“Get off my property this minute!” Luke shouted,
running up to him. “I'm calling the police. You have absolutely
no right
—”

Ana heard the commotion and opened the door. Muddy ran out and stood on the
portal,
barking excitedly.

“Where is he?” Mustache Man said.

“Who?”

“Over there!” the other agent shouted. He had just spotted Kareem riding away from the barn.

“Kick her!” Sky screamed.
“Hard!”

Kareem did, and Blanca bolted forward so suddenly that he almost lost his seat.

“Go after him!” the agent called, tossing the keys to his partner.

But Muddy, bless his ancient soul, got there first. He flew off the porch, jaws wide, and made a perfect catch in mid-air. He was so proud of this feat, he decided to take a victory lap, running around and around in circles, his prize in his mouth.

Luke stopped in his tracks and burst out laughing.

Kareem turned in the saddle to see what was going on. Blanca read this as a signal to stop.

“Go!”
Sky yelled. “Follow Mouse's tracks!”

He nudged Blanca again, just hard enough this time, and off they went.

Sky waited near the barn. She had some vague plans of distracting the agents, giving Kareem a little more time to
get away. Also, it was awfully entertaining to watch a pair of muscle-bound agents, in their suits and ties and shiny lace-up shoes, chasing an elderly dog around a slushy yard, shouting like maniacs.

It took them almost a minute, but the agents finally cornered Muddy and retrieved their keys. Then they piled back into the van and started the motor.

Only then, apparently, did they realize they didn't know which way to go. Kareem was out of sight; and with snow all over everything, it was even hard to tell what was a road and what was not.

Sky took off, and as she'd hoped, the van came speeding after her, bouncing and sliding on the uneven terrain. Perfect, Sky thought as she led them around the barn, then back toward the
casita
and on past the big cluster of junipers to the left.

She hadn't planned what happened next, though later it seemed like genius.

When the sky is overcast, the light on snow becomes “flat.” You can't see dips or bumps in the ground till you're practically on them. It's something skiers know. Sky knew it, too—only she'd been distracted, and she was excited, and she'd forgotten what lay straight ahead of her. By the time she remembered, it was too late to turn.

But Prince had been a jumper in his younger days. Though he'd long since been demoted to trail horse, he
still knew what to do. With the grace of a champion, he sailed over that snowy mound. Seconds later, the van plowed into it.

The manure pile.