by Casie Bazay
He clears his throat and opens the maroon folder. “I’m going to jump right in, I guess. I have here Elijah Walker’s last will and testament, but before we get to that, I’d like to read you the first in a series of letters he left for you.” He looks up, and then at each of us in turn.
“Okay,” I say, while my companions remain silent and frozen. So far, I’m not too impressed with my aunt and cousin. They’re far less intimidating than I’ve always believed them to be.
After opening an envelope with the word One written on it, Mr. Sisco takes out a folded, peppermint green paper with what I recognize as Grandpa’s handwriting on it. Aunt Jackie leans closer to the lawyer, attempting to read the letter herself. K. J. looks up for the first time, her eyes flashing to me and then my mom. I ignore her, waiting for Mr. Sisco to start reading. In the meantime, I uncross my arms. At least it has warmed up to somewhere around comfortable by now. K. J.’s eyes move back to me, specifically to the brown stain on my chest. A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, and I quickly cross my arms again.
“Looks like you could use some of Grandpa’s fortune to go buy yourself a new shirt,” she says.
Her mother nudges an elbow at her, but I narrow my eyes. “Shut up, K. J. No amount of money could buy you any class. Not that Grandpa had anything to leave us anyway.”
K. J.’s eyes widen ever so slightly, but her expression quickly changes to one of pure smugness. “Actually, he did.” She turns to the lawyer. “Didn’t he, Mr. Sisco?”
Jackie frowns and elbows her daughter again.
“Be quiet, girls,” my mom hisses, “and let him read the letter.”
CHAPTER 3
ELI
Hello girls,
If you’re reading this letter, it means I’m gone. I wish I could have told you in person what I plan to tell you now, but I often find it easier to write my thoughts and feelings down rather than say them aloud. So here goes…
I know some people have always thought me to be a strange man. I have my ways, and other people have theirs. I’ve always thought we, as a species, should respect that more. Other people’s choices, that is. I know I’ve certainly tried to respect the choices my daughters have made. There were many times I wanted to step in and try to mend the divide between you two, but to be honest, I didn’t know where to start. Some fissures run too deep, and throwing a little sand in them will do nothing to fill the gap. And let’s face it, I could barely manage to hold myself together most the time, let alone try to fix other people’s problems.
I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I had cancer. But I’m telling you now.
A few months back, I realized something wasn’t quite right. I didn’t have my usual energy when I walked about my property, and I was tired all the time. I began to worry. You know how much I detest hospitals and how I hate riding in a car, but I actually went to the doctor. (I know, it shocked me, too.) But I needed to know if I was dying. My neighbor Sheldon took me. After some tests, the doctors confirmed my fears, diagnosing me with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. They said it was advanced, but I could start treatment to hopefully prolong my life. I considered it. I really did. But the thought of getting in a car again and making another trip to the hospital triggered a major panic attack. I decided I would rather live out the rest of my time where I’m most comfortable—at home.
I’m sorry for not telling you girls, but I knew you’d want me to get treatment. And I just wanted to live my last few months in relative peace. It turns out the doctor’s estimate was wrong. Those few months have turned into nearly half a year now, enough time for me to make some important decisions. Again, I don’t tell you all this to make you sad. This was my choice, and it’s one I don’t regret.
But let’s get to the real point of this letter: I stayed quiet on matters that bothered me more than I ever let on. I hated never being able to have my family all together at once.
Jackie, I rarely saw you and Katherine, and it saddened me greatly. I know you were uncomfortable coming around, but I love both of you very much. I want you to know that.
RaeLynn and Rebecka, I really enjoyed what little time I spent with you as well. I know things have been hard since you lost Ricky, and I loved my grandson as much as I love all of you. I wish we could have all been together as a family, just once even. Charlotte and I didn’t set the best example, I’m afraid, and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for a lot of things.
I can’t change the past, but I do have one wish for the future: that my family could finally forgive all the wrongs that they have held onto for so long now. I know what I’m asking isn’t simple, but I’m offering an incentive. It will be well worth your time to do as I ask. Mr. Sisco will explain the details.
I’m sure this letter has left you with as many questions as it has answers, but don’t worry, I’ll be writing more letters. Each will be given to the appropriate person at the appropriate time.
Until then, sending my love,
Elijah Walker
CHAPTER 4
K. J.
I’M THE ONLY ONE IN THE ROOM WHO HASN’T TEARED up. Aside from Mr. Sisco, anyway. He’s thumbing through more paperwork, waiting for everyone to dry their eyes with a tissue from the box conveniently placed in the center of the table.
My lack of water works probably makes me look like a real bitch, but I’m just too nervous about what’s coming. I mean, I’m sad, too. Obviously. I had no idea Grandpa had cancer, and I feel terrible we didn’t go see him more, especially since he was so sick. Mom and I figured he died of a heart attack.
Mom sniffles, dabs at her eyes with a tissue, and then levels her sister with an accusatory glare. “You should have told me he was sick.”
RaeLynn bristles, pushing her shoulders back. “I didn’t know! He didn’t tell anyone. Just like that letter said.”
“But you saw him more than we did,” my mom spits. “You live closer.”
“He didn’t look sick the last time I saw him,” RaeLynn says with a scowl. “A little thinner, sure, but not horrible. He was hiding the fact that he was ill! And besides, it’s not like it was that much farther for you.”
Mr. Sisco’s round face puckers, but he doesn’t butt in. He just gets up and closes the door.
“When was the last time you saw him?” RaeLynn continues. “You could have gone to visit him more. What was your excuse?”
I can see Mom’s jaw clench as she grinds her teeth. She’s trying to think of a good comeback, I’m sure. Mr. Sisco returns to his seat, but still says nothing, which surprises me. I figured lawyers were supposed to be good at getting people to calm down in tense situations like this. That’s how they seem on TV.
“Don’t you dare try to blame this on me,” RaeLynn snaps.
“Would you stop it?” Becka hisses. “Both of you. You’re acting like children.”
RaeLynn looks like she’d like to lay into Becka for reprimanding her but must think better of it in front of all of us.
Mr. Sisco clears his throat again. “Can we please proceed, ladies?”
RaeLynn huffs a loud breath while my mother continues to glare at her. “Yes,” my aunt says finally. She lowers her head, looking ashamed. “Sorry.”
Mr. Sisco starts reading from Grandpa’s will. “Elijah Walker’s house and possessions will go to auction with all proceeds going to the Arkansas Entomological Society.”
“What?” Mom gasps. She was probably still holding out hope that he’d leave the house to us or at least some of the land. RaeLynn gives us both a self-satisfied look. I doubt she wants the property. She has her own fancy house, or so I hear.
“But a sum of $350,494 is to be divided equally among RaeLynn Shipman, Jackie Walker, Rebecka Cowles, and Katherine Walker.” Mom gasps again, but this time so does everyone else.
“Grandpa had that much money?” Becka asks. She’s apparently forgotten about the stain on her shirt again as she leans forward, her hands dropping to her lap. She has full, pouty lips covered in clear lip gloss, and it m
akes me want to smack her for some reason. But it’s also kind of hilarious seeing her looking like this. I’ve always thought of Becka as Little Miss Perfect, but she’s not looking so perfect now.
“There are, however, several stipulations,” Mr. Sisco continues. “The first one being that Rebecka and Katherine’s portion of the money must first go to pay for their college tuition. Acceptance to a college or university and a 3.0 grade average are required in order to retain the inheritance. Whatever is left after that is theirs to do with as they please.”
My shoulders droop. Well, shit, looks like I won’t be getting anything after all. It would be a miracle if any college would accept my transcript as is, and I haven’t even taken the ACT.
“My college is already paid for,” Becka says, frowning. “I have a soccer scholarship at the University of Arkansas.”
Oh, how nice for you. I didn’t think it was possible, but my dislike for Becka multiplies. I’m also miffed at Grandpa. Why couldn’t he just fork over the money without all these dumb stipulations?
Mr. Sisco peers at Becka over his glasses. “In that case, the money could be used for related costs: room and board, et cetera.”
This seems to please my cousin and aunt, and I roll my eyes. If Becka only knew how easy she had it. My mom’s looking pretty chipper right now, too. She’s probably envisioning all the ways she can spend her part of the money. I’m sure she’s seeing a new car in her future and more fun at the casino. Irritation wells up inside me and my jaw tightens. Why am I getting the shaft here? It’s not my fault that getting into college is almost impossible now. If I’d have known higher education was even a possibility for me, maybe I would have tried harder.
“I still don’t understand how Daddy had all this money,” RaeLynn says, “but this is certainly a nice surprise.”
I love how she’s suddenly referring to him as Daddy, like they were the perfect father-daughter combo. According to that letter, RaeLynn and Becka weren’t around much, either.
“Let’s just say he invested well,” Mr. Sisco says with the hint of a smile, “but there’s more.”
“Oh,” Mom says quietly as she settles back into her seat.
“In order for any of the four named recipients to receive their inheritance, there are five specific tasks that must be completed.”
“What do you mean?” RaeLynn asks, her eyes narrowing.
Mr. Sisco pauses, glancing her way for a second before peering back down at the paper in front of him. “These tasks must be completed by Rebecka Cowles and Katherine Walker. If the tasks are not completed, in full, then the entire sum will be withheld from the aforementioned persons and left instead to the Arkansas Amateur Entomological Association.”
“What the hell does the Entomological Association need all that money for?” Mom demands.
“What are the tasks?” I ask, a mixture of curiosity and dread taking over. I honestly have no clue what to expect here.
Mr. Sisco smiles again. “I’m so glad you asked.”
Mom inches closer to him, trying to read the document herself. I can’t see crap from where I sit.
“The following tasks are to be completed in this specific order, and all costs pertaining to them will be covered by an additional set of funds provided by Mr. Walker.”
Whatever the hell these tasks are, Grandpa sure was serious about them. Nothing should probably surprise me at this point, but my spine stiffens with nervous anticipation.
“Task number one,” Mr. Sisco says, his voice becoming thick with authority. “Ride a mule on the guided trip into the Grand Canyon, stay overnight at the Phantom Ranch, and return to the South Rim the following day. The trip has already been booked, since reservations must be made at least a year in advance.”
“What in the actual fuck?” I mutter.
Mom elbows me again.
Becka’s face is flushed pink. “I’m not riding a mule.” She fixes her blue eyes on me and frowns. “And especially not with her.”
“Be quiet, both of you,” my mom says. Well, well, look who’s suddenly decided to give a shit. “What’s the second thing?” she asks.
“Task two is to participate in a base camp hike at Yellowstone National Park.” My eyes widen, but Mr. Sisco doesn’t wait for us to respond this time. “Task three is to white water raft over the Bull Sluice on the Chattooga River. Task four will be snuba diving off the coast of Key West, Florida. And, finally, task five will be to enter one event in a local rodeo.”
“Wait,” I say. “What’s snuba diving?”
“A combination of scuba diving and snorkeling,” Mr. Sisco says. “You won’t need certification for it.”
“Wow!” RaeLynn says, nodding appreciatively. “It’s like a bunch of little mini-vacations. Except for the rodeo.”
Becka’s face has gone from pink to almost magenta now, and she looks like she’s about to blow. Little Miss Perfect has a temper, so it would seem.
I shake my head in confusion. “I don’t get it. Why would Grandpa want us to do all these things?”
“He’s trying to kill us,” Becka screeches, her cool finally breaking. “I’m afraid of heights. And I don’t like horses.”
“He never said you had to ride a horse,” I say. “Just a mule. And you could ride a bull in the rodeo.” The thought makes me smile.
She pounds a hand on the table. “I don’t need to do any of these things. I already have my college paid for, and my mom doesn’t need this money.”
Now my mom is the one to redden. “Listen here, little missy, you two might not need the money, but I don’t even have a reliable car. And this could be K. J.’s only chance to go to college.” Obviously, she’s not remembering my less-than-ideal grades at the moment.
“Actually, I could use the money,” RaeLynn says quietly. “I could pay off the rest of my debt. We still owe quite a bit on Ricky’s hospital bills.”
A small knot of guilt tightens inside my stomach. I’d never even met my cousin Ricky. He died four years ago, from a bad infection after having his appendix removed. He spent almost two months in the hospital. Mom and I didn’t attend his funeral. We didn’t even know about it until after the fact.
RaeLynn turns to Becka, her expression hard to read. “I know these are strange requests, but look at it this way, you’ll get to travel all over the country. Do things you may otherwise never get to do.” She gives a slight smile. “I’m a little envious actually. I’d love to go to Key West.”
“Would you love to enter a rodeo?” Becka asks flatly. “Or have to do all these things with Aunt Jackie?”
RaeLynn’s smile evaporates. We all know the answer to that question.
“Why us?” I ask. I seem to be the only one who isn’t angry, and just trying to comprehend all this craziness. “Why not his own daughters? They’re the ones who hate each other’s guts.”
Mr. Sisco gives me a chiding look, like maybe I shouldn’t have stated the obvious. “Your grandfather thought it might be too late to mend their broken relationship, but it seems he still had hopes that his two granddaughters might learn to be friends.”
I catch Becka’s eye, and we both stare at one another.
“Not gonna happen,” she says.
I second that. Grandpa’s tasks actually sound kind of cool, but I’d never be able to enjoy myself—not with her tagging along.
“I know what this is,” RaeLynn says, realization dawning on her face. She folds her hands on the table and nods to no one in particular. “These are the things he always wished he’d done, but he couldn’t because of his agoraphobia.”
Mom gives RaeLynn a blank look. Maybe she’d never realized her dad had this adventurous side. Or wannabe adventurous side anyway.
“When are the reservations for the mule ride?” I ask.
Mr. Sisco thumbs through a few more papers and then pauses, scanning through the page. “Next weekend actually.” He lets out an uncomfortable chuckle. “Mr. Walker certainly wasn’t expecting to make it as lon
g as he did.”
“I can’t go next weekend!” Becka practically yells. “We have another playoff game!”
RaeLynn’s face falls, and she pats Becka on the back.
A smile creeps across my face. I’m feeling better about this already. “That date works just fine for me.”
CHAPTER 5
BECKA
I SPEED WALK AHEAD OF EVERYONE, IGNORING THE receptionist’s pleasant farewell as I push open the front door. Mr. Sisco’s words replay in my mind, making me want to scream. This whole ordeal makes me want to scream. Missing what might be the final game of my senior year for this first trip with K. J.? I can’t even process the idea right now.
My goal is to escape to the Jeep so I don’t have to speak another word to my cousin or aunt, but, of course, it’s locked. Luckily, Mom’s not far behind. I barely get my door shut before I let out a strangled groan of frustration. “Why?” I yell at the dash. “Why do I have to do these things?”
Mom starts the engine, then sinks back into her seat with a sigh. “Because it’s what your grandpa wanted. It’s his last wish. The least you and K. J. can do is honor it.”
“Really?” I turn to glare at her. “You and Jackie can hardly stand to be in the same room together. That’s the most time you’ve spent with her in… what? Forever?” Mom gives me that stop-while-you’re-ahead look. But this time, I can’t. This isn’t fair. Any of it. “This whole thing is stupid. And all so you can pay off some bills? You and Tim have plenty of money. Can’t you just pay them off yourself?”
Mom’s face hardens and her a hand flies up like it has a mind of its own. Instinctively, I wince, but nothing happens. When I open my eyes, her hand is resting in her lap and she’s staring straight ahead.
“You don’t know anything about how the adult world works, Becka. Those bills—Ricky’s bills—they’re like a daily reminder of what I’ve lost. They’ve been hanging over my head for four years. Four years! Do you even know what that’s like?” She sucks in her cheeks and shakes her head. “Of course you don’t. You have no idea what it’s like to owe money to anyone. You’ve never even had a job.”