Storm of Lightning (18 page)

A man I'd never seen before raised his bandaged arm. “What exactly do you mean by ‘hurt'?”

Gervaso grinned. “By ‘hurt' I meant ‘killed.' ”

“Then no one was hurt,” he said.

I hugged Ian and Tessa as well. “How's the ranch?” I asked.

“I love it here,” Tessa said. “It's awesome.”

“Yeah, it's pretty cool,” Ian concurred.

Tanner walked up to me. He looked the best I'd seen him yet. He looked healthy. “Hey, Tanner,” I said, hugging him.

“Hey, Vey-dude. You're still alive. I was sure you were going down on this one.”

“That's comforting,” I said. “We almost did. How are you doing?”

“I'm doing all right,” he said. “This place is healing.”

“Healing's good,” I said.

He nodded. “Yeah. Healing's good.” He suddenly noticed Nichelle and his expression changed. “I can't believe she's here.”

“She's cool,” I said.

He looked at me as if I were crazy. “Nichelle's cool?” he said. “No, she ain't. We have history.”

“Look,” I said. “Hatch has made all of us do things we're not proud of. You can understand that.”

For a moment Tanner was speechless. Then he nodded. “You're right, man.”

“Forgiveness is part of healing. Just let it go. What happened with Hatch stays with Hatch.”

Tanner looked a little ashamed. He nodded again. “That's good advice, Vey. Thanks.”

We briefly hugged again. Then I looked over at Grace, who I knew the least of all the electric kids. “How are you?”

She smiled. “I'm good.”

“They're taking good care of you?”

She nodded. “They're treating me like gold. You're going to like it here.”

“I hope we get to stay awhile,” I said.

“Me too. Welcome home.”

“Electroclan,” the chairman said loudly. “Welcome to Christmas Ranch. I am certain you're exhausted from your travels, so if you'll follow me, I'll show you to your rooms.”

We grabbed our bags, then followed the chairman behind the ranch house, where there were two log cabins more than thirty feet long.

“We're staying in bunkhouses,” Zeus said. “Women in that one, men in this one.”

“See you in a minute,” I said to Taylor. We quickly kissed, then split up. My mother led the girls over to their dorm.

The two bunkhouses looked the same, with stained log siding and a pitched, olive-green tin roof. Inside there was a loft that ran over two-thirds of the ceiling, looking out over the front. There were bunk beds extending out from the walls running the length of the room, four sets of two on each side, sleeping sixteen people.

The chairman said, “You can grab any of the bunks along the wall that don't already have sleeping bags on them. Or, if you want to sleep on the loft upstairs, that's available as well. There's no mattresses up there, but it's carpeted with thick padding. And there's plenty of extra quilts and pillows.”

“How do you get up there?” I asked.

“That wood ladder at the end of the room,” he said, pointing. “That door next to the ladder is the bathroom. There's a shower in there as well, but there's only one bathroom per house, so please keep your showers to a minimum.” He stepped back toward the door. “That's it. If you have any questions, you can talk to any of the staff inside the main house. Also, I know it's late for lunch, but we have sandwiches and chili for you in the main house. If you're hungry, come over. They'll be closing the kitchen in about an hour. But there's always snacks.”

“We'll be right over,” I said. “Do the girls know?”

“Your mother will tell them,” he said. “You'll have some time to wander around the grounds. We'll have dinner around six; then we're going to have a meeting.”

“Where?” I asked.

“In the big room in the main house. We'll ring the bell when it's dinnertime. So don't eat too much, or you won't be hungry later, and we have fantastic dinners.” He looked us over. “You have no idea how happy we are to see you.” He walked out.

Ostin, Jack, and I climbed the ladder to the loft. The ceiling was low, maybe six feet at its pinnacle. There were gabled windows that looked out over the property.

“This is nice,” Ostin said. “I wonder how long we'll be here.”

“A long time, I hope,” Jack said.

After a moment I said, “I wouldn't get used to that idea. You know that just when we get comfortable, Hatch will do something crazy. If he hasn't already.”

“That's his way,” Jack said.

“Crazy freakin' moron,” Ostin said.

Jack and I grinned.

“Crazy freakin' moron,” I repeated.

W
e piled our bags in the corner of the loft and laid out some quilts and pillows; then Ostin, Jack, and I climbed back down and went over to the main house to get something to eat. The only one in the kitchen was a woman stirring a pot. She was tall with long silver hair.

“I'm going to go find the girls,” Jack said, walking back out.

The kitchen was small for so many people, and most of the counters were covered with food.

“It smells good in here,” Ostin said.

“It's garlic,” the woman said, smiling. “Garlic always smells good. Except on your breath.”

“Is that for lunch?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “It's dinner. I'm making Italian. This is my Bolognese sauce. I'm also making meatballs and spaghetti. The chairman asked for something special since we're having a celebratory dinner tonight,” she said.

“What are we celebrating?” I asked.

She looked at me with an amused smile, then said, “You, of course.” She put a lid on a pot, then stepped away from the stove. “My name is Lois. I'm the cook. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Where are you from?” Ostin asked.

“I live in town,” she said. “In Orderville, just a few miles north. But I was born near here in Kanab. It's about twenty miles from here. It's where we do most of our shopping.” She gestured to the food. “We're having sandwiches and chili for lunch. Help yourself.”

There was a sandwich bar with roast beef, sliced turkey, pastrami, and salami, and chicken salad with grapes and walnuts in it. There were all kinds of vegetables—tomatoes, lettuce, onions, cucumbers, jalapeños—and at least four kinds of spreads.

On the next counter there were plastic bowls filled with coleslaw and potato salad, and a cooler filled with ice and drinks—soda, juices, and bottled water.

Ostin and I grabbed paper plates and made sandwiches, then sat down at the table to eat. Jack, Abi, Nichelle, Taylor, and McKenna walked into the kitchen about five minutes after we'd started eating.

“Not waiting for us?” Taylor said.

“Sorry,” I said with a full mouth. “I didn't know if you were coming.”

“Of course I was coming,” she said. “There's food, isn't there?”

Lois introduced herself, then handed them all plates. They made sandwiches, got bowls of chili, and then came over and joined us.

“I think my mom must have made this potato salad,” Ostin said. “It's definitely her recipe.”

“As a matter of fact, it is,” Lois said. “So is the chili. How is it?”

“It's good,” Jack said. “But it's not very hot.”

“I'm sorry,” Lois said. “I forgot to turn the heat back up. I can warm it up if you like.”

“No worries,” McKenna said. “I'll take care of it.” She put her hand above Jack's bowl, and her hand began to turn bright red. Lois stared in amazement. It took less than ten seconds before the chili was bubbling. Almost habitually, Ostin handed her a bottle of water.

“Thank you,” McKenna said. She quickly downed half the bottle.

“That was amazing,” Lois said. “I was told that you kids had special abilities.”

“You have no idea,” Nichelle said.

Jack took back his bowl of chili. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” McKenna replied.

Taylor had made herself a chicken salad sandwich that looked really good.

“How is it?” I asked.

“Beats swamp eel,” she said.

“My shoe beats swamp eel,” Jack said.

“How're your rooms?” I asked.

“It's just one big room,” Taylor said.

“. . . and one bathroom,” McKenna added. “That's not going to work for twelve women.”

“There are two bathrooms and showers in here,” Lois said, smiling. “You're welcome to use them anytime.”

“Thank you,” McKenna said.

Zeus and Tessa walked into the room. “Hey, guys,” Zeus said. “After you eat, we'll take you on a tour of the ranch. We've got ATVs.”

“I think you should walk,” Lois said. “It's much nicer. There's a nice path down to the pond.”

“There's a pond?” McKenna asked.

“It's more like a small lake. You can swim if you like. There's also a canoe. It's just down at the end of the dirt road behind the bunkhouses.”

“Just watch out for rattlesnakes,” Tessa said.

“Rattlesnakes?” Ostin said, looking suddenly afraid.

“We found one yesterday,” Tessa said. “It was huge, like five feet long.”

“A Mojave Green,” Zeus said. “Pretty wicked.”

“What's a Mojave Green?” I asked. I turned to Ostin, who now looked even more terrified. The only things that scared Ostin more than an empty refrigerator were sharks and snakes.

“It's bad news,” Ostin said. “Only the most venomous rattlesnake
in the world. Not only does it have the usual venomous proteins, but it's venom also contains a presynaptic neurotoxin. Think cobra, man. Be very afraid.”

“You don't need to be afraid, just cautious,” Lois said. “No one here has ever been bitten, but we have antivenom just in case. Just respect them and keep your distance. And don't play with them.”

“Who would be dumb enough to play with a rattlesnake?” Taylor asked.

“You'd be surprised,” Lois replied.

“What did you do with the snake you saw?” Ostin asked.

“Fried it,” Zeus said. “I'm much faster than any snake.”

“I'm sticking with you or Michael,” Ostin said.

“What's the matter with me?” McKenna asked. “Or don't you like being protected by a girl?”

Ostin seemed stumped. “I just . . . I should be protecting you.”

“We protect one another,” McKenna said. “In whatever way we can.”

Ostin nodded. “That's intelligent,” he said.

After lunch, Taylor and I walked out the back of the house down a small, stone-set walkway past an outdoor pizza oven piled high with cut wood. I took Taylor's hand, and we walked about a hundred yards down a tree-lined clay trail, over two cattle guards, to the pond. The pond was about three acres in size. Its water was bright blue, and there were ducks floating in it. One edge was covered in sunflowers and cattails. There was a boat dock on the south end, and on the east side a large platform hung out over the water. Tied to the dock was a long, green canoe with two oars inside.

“Want to go for a boat ride?” I asked.

Taylor smiled. “Sure.”

We walked down onto the narrow floating dock, which rocked slightly beneath our weight. I held the canoe steady while Taylor climbed into the front and balanced herself. Then I untied the rope from the dock's cleat and climbed into the back of the canoe. The canoe rocked a lot, and I nearly tipped us over trying to get to my seat.

We paddled to the middle of the pond, the canoe gliding easily
over the water. There was a light breeze, and the ducks took flight as we approached them.

Taylor laid down her oar, then carefully slid back toward me until I could hold her.

“I could live like this for the rest of my life.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“A pioneer life. Simple. I mean, I know it's physically hard, but the challenges are different. Milking cows, planting, harvesting . . . you know, simple.”

“Simple is good,” I said.

“The world has gotten so complex. I sometimes wonder if all these labor-saving devices actually just make our lives more difficult. You know what I mean?”

“Yes.”

“It's not like all these gadgets and appliances have slowed people down or anything. It just means they have to do more. The whole world just keeps trying to go faster and faster.” She sighed. “Except for here. Nature is never in a hurry. You can't make a flower bloom faster. They don't read magazines to make themselves prettier; they just know they are.”

I looked at her and smiled. “How do you know flowers think they're pretty?”

She smiled. “I can tell.”

For a moment we were both quiet, listening to the soft, whistling breeze and the rhythmic tin squeak of an aged windmill. A dragonfly buzzed by above our heads, chased by another. Taylor looked up at me. “Why do you think Hatch does what he does? With all his money, he could live anywhere, do anything. Instead he makes himself and everyone else miserable.”