Sunflower Serenade

by Tricia Goyer

  Emily smiled at the clucking of the chickens as they passed. She took a photo of the Nebraska flag waving in the wind. She smiled softly as she focused her camera and snapped a shot. It was turning out, she thought, to be a good day.

  As Emily walked she realized that Grandma had been right in suggesting she try to forgive and forget the events of the previous day. She could have stayed mad and replayed the conversation with Nicole in her mind, but the day was better when she chose to do the opposite.

  As Emily walked around with Arielle and Natalie, in a strange way the crowds of the fair reminded her of the crowds at Coronado Beach—especially at the Coronado Dell Resort near their home in San Diego. One of the fun things about going there was walking through the outside patio—and even the lobby—and pretending they belonged. They’d never been able to afford staying at such a place, but it was common for those hanging out at the beach to walk through the shops or get an ice cream in the small outdoor café.

  The last time Emily was there, Mom had taken them ice skating in the small rink behind the large hotel. She had never understood how they kept it frozen, yet she enjoyed it all the same.

  The rink was at the edge of the sandy beach, and ice skating while watching the large ships sail by on the Pacific Ocean had been one of her favorite things to do. In February, the Southern Californian sun shone as brightly as it did during summers in Nebraska, and they’d skated in T-shirts and jeans.

  Like the crowds here at the fair, at the resort there had been old people on scooters and pouting, tired children who wanted one more ride, one more game, or one more treat.

  Emily and Arielle had just settled down with half a watermelon, root beers, and snow cones when Nicole, Lily, and a girl whose nametag read KAITLIN approached. They’d been working in the school food booth, calling to everyone who passed to come get a hot dog or lemonade. Now their shift was over, and Emily wondered if yesterday’s conversation was about to be repeated.

  Nicole plopped down next to Arielle as if they were best friends.

  “Hey, Arielle, is your dad patrolling the concert Friday night?”

  Arielle narrowed her blue eyes in a distrusting gaze. “Yeah, why?”

  “Oh, I was just wondering. Do you think he can let us slip backstage for just a few minutes so we can get our picture taken with Shae Lynne? I have a bet with my cousin in Colorado. I told her I can get a photo, and she says it’s impossible.”

  “Yeah, my dad will be there, but the security backstage is going to be tight. They’re not letting anyone near Shae Lynne—even the Stevenson farm will have security starting tomorrow.”

  “What do you mean? What’s going on at the Stevenson farm?”

  Arielle glanced at Emily. “Sorry. I thought everyone knew.”

  “Knew what?” Nicole scooted closer.

  “Knew that Shae Lynne’s next video is being taped at Sam and Emily’s house.”

  Lily and Kaitlin turned in Emily’s direction with mouths gaping.

  “At Emily’s house?” Nicole lifted her nose into the air. She laughed out loud. “That’s a great joke.”

  The other girls didn’t laugh.

  “It’s not a joke. I talked to Sam on the phone this morning. The video crew was there setting up.” Arielle fixed her ponytail, rewrapping the rubber band around her dark hair.

  Emily nodded, but Nicole still looked at her with disbelief.

  “But has anyone actually seen Shae Lynne yet? Maybe they just said they were working with Shae Lynne.” Nicole folded her arms over her chest.

  Emily glanced at Arielle, seeking courage. “Uh, no. We haven’t seen Shae Lynne, not yet, but she’s supposed to be there tomorrow.”

  “Really?” Nicole’s face brightened with a smile.

  “Yeah, but they’re not going to let anyone onto the property. Like Arielle said, there will be security and the whole thing is off limits.”

  “Who is it that’s keeping everyone off limits?” Nicole scooted closer to Emily.

  “You know, the video people.”

  “But it’s your house. They can’t stop you from inviting over a few friends, right?”

  “Well, I guess not.” Emily knew immediately what Nicole was asking, and with all of them looking at her she didn’t know how to say no. “I suppose I can ask my grandma if it’s okay if you all come and spend the night.”

  “Okay, sure.” Nicole glanced at the others. “That will be cool. I’ve been wanting to stay over for a while.”

  Yeah, right. Emily nodded but didn’t answer.

  “Cool.” Nicole jumped to her feet. “Do you want to go on some rides with us?”

  Arielle shook her head. “No thanks. I’m going to go meet up with Sam, but you can go ahead, Emily.”

  Emily opened her mouth to tell Nicole that she had other plans, but then she remembered her grandmother’s encouragement. Trying to forgive and forget was the first step. So was hanging out with Nicole the next one?

  Nicole reached out her hand. Emily grasped it and allowed Nicole to pull her to her feet.

  “You like the Scrambler, don’t you?” Lily put her hand on Emily’s arm. “I love that ride, but it makes Nicole sick. Last year she puked all over my hair. It was totally gross.”

  “Yeah, I like the Scrambler.” As Emily said the words she felt guilty for not taking her cousins on it yesterday. But that was then, and Emily pushed those thoughts out of her mind, realizing there was nothing she could do about it now.

  “Cool. Then will you at least go on that one with me? I don’t want to go on it alone.” Lily grinned, brushing her reddish-brown hair back from her face.

  “Okay, I suppose.”

  It’s just a few rides. Maybe Nicole and her friends will even learn to like me. It might help things.

  Emily walked along with the cheerleaders, and she had to admit she liked the feeling of being with the popular crowd.

  Besides, she hadn’t promised anything with the sleepover. Maybe it would work, maybe not. But she wasn’t going to worry about that now. She only had one thing on her mind … the Scrambler.

  THEY RODE RIDES most of the afternoon. After going on the Squirrel Cages three times in a row and asking the carnival worker to spin them each time, Emily was starting to feel sick. From the look on Lily’s face, she was too.

  “Okay, I think I’m done.” Lily wrapped her arms around her stomach.

  “Yeah, me too. I can only be spun, squished, and jerked around so much.”

  “Well, I suppose we could head over to the mutton busting; that’s always fun.” Kaitlin tucked her green shirt back into her jean shorts.

  “The what?” Nicole laughed. Since she got sick on rides, Nicole hadn’t ridden on any of them, and she still looked perfect. Instead, she’d followed them around, holding their sunglasses and sodas. “Mutton busting sounds like an English casserole gone bad.”

  “You haven’t seen it?” Kaitlin asked.

  “No, I mostly stick to talking to guys and eating the food.” Nicole tucked her thumbs into her jean shorts.

  “I, uh, haven’t seen it either.” Emily twirled a strand of hair around her finger.

  “Oh, it’s so cute. Little kids under seven sign up to ride a sheep. Their parents put bike helmets on them and then an adult lifts them onto the sheep.” Kaitlin chuckled to herself. “The kid holds on for dear life. It’s the funniest thing ever, and they win a pair of Justin boots for staying on the longest.”

  “It sounds sort of cool.” Emily glanced at the faces of the other girls, gauging their response.

  “Actually, I’d rather just head out to Emily’s house. You know, to see what’s going on out there,” Nicole said.

  “Well, I should talk to my grandma first to make sure it’s okay,” Emily said.

  “Why wouldn’t it be okay?” Nicole cocked an eyebrow.

  “Well, because there’s a lot going on—with the fair and all the video people at our house. I don’t think Grandma would be very happy if I showed up with a l
ot of extra guests without asking. But if you wait a minute I can run over and ask Grandma at the fair office. It’s right over there.” Emily pointed.

  “Sure, whatever, go ask.” Nicole forced her lips into a tight smile.

  Emily could tell Nicole was trying to be nice, trying to hold her tongue. Each time Nicole opened her mouth Emily waited for the hurtful remark, but none came. Maybe this is a turning point, she thought.

  She also had to admit she’d had fun going on rides and stuff. Maybe Grandma was right; maybe people could move past old conflicts if given the chance.

  Emily hurried toward the fair office and slipped in the side door.

  “Hi, Mrs. Carter.” Emily waved to her grandmother’s friend.

  “Oh hi, Emily. What are you up to?”

  “Well, I just wanted to run in and ask my grandma a quick question.” She walked across the room to the closed door. “Do you think it’s okay?” She placed her hand on the doorknob.

  “Well, your grandma went home. She told me to tell you she tried to call your cell phone. She said you’ll be riding home with your grandpa later.”

  Emily took her phone from her back pocket and, sure enough, there were four missed calls from her grandmother. She tried to call her grandma back but there was no answer.

  “Is Grandpa in there?” Emily pointed to the back room, where she could hear voices. “Do you think it’s okay if I talk to him for a minute?”

  “Well, I’m sure your grandpa wouldn’t mind, but things are pretty heated in there. I can’t hear what they’re saying exactly, but I can for sure hear that there are some unhappy campers.”

  Emily scrunched her nose. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to get in the middle of that. Do you think it would be okay if I left a note for Grandpa?”

  “Sure, I’ll make sure I give it to him when he gets out.” Hannah handed Emily a piece of paper and a pen.

  “Great, and I’ll have my cell phone if he needs to call me.”

  “Are you going to be somewhere around the fairgrounds? Maybe over at the grandstand for the big event?”

  “Actually, I’m gonna head home. I’ve been hanging out around here a lot lately …” She let her voice trail off as she figured out what to write:

  Dear Grandpa, I got a ride home with Kaitlin, who is a friend of Nicole Evans. See you at home later. Emily

  Emily gave the note to Hannah, who promised to pass it on. When she walked out she noticed that Sam, Arielle, Natalie, and Jordan were waiting.

  “Hey, there you are. The pig wrestling starts in thirty minutes. Are you going to join us and cheer on the guys?” Arielle asked her.

  “Oh yeah, pig wrestling. Is that today?”

  “Yeah. Duh, we talked about it yesterday.” Sam softly slugged her shoulder. “After that we’re heading over to the grandstand.”

  Kaitlin jingled her car keys in front of Emily’s face to distract her.

  “Uh, actually, I’m going back to the farm. We’re going to be having a sleepover.”

  “A sleepover, huh?” Sam scoffed, staring pointedly at Nicole. “How convenient. Come on, guys.”

  Sam signaled to the others, and Emily felt her heart fall. Am I doing the right thing? Making the right choice?

  Deep down, Emily knew she wasn’t, but she was in too deep. There was no way to back out now.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sam trudged toward the small arena where the pig wrestling would soon be held. Exiting the auditorium next to the arena, a line of 4-H members trailed out. Disappointment filled the faces of the kids who hadn’t won.

  When Sam and his friends got to the arena, they saw cowboys sitting on top of the corral’s metal fence. They matched, sort of, with their jeans, boots, colorful shirts, and brown cowboy hats. Jordan, of course, had to take a picture.

  When Sam saw the stands were packed, his stomach turned. The heat beat down on his head, and he felt like he was going to be sick.

  “You ready for this?” Sam asked Jordan.

  “Are you kidding? We’re going to get that pig and win. We’ll show these cowboys what city boys can do!”

  Sam smiled, but he didn’t feel quite so confident. He’d imagined it would be a small event held behind one of the animal barns, nothing like this.

  Tall bleachers circled the small ring, which was filled with two feet of mud. Some of Arielle’s friends waved to them from one of the bleacher rows, and as they climbed up the steps, everyone squeezed together to make room for them to sit. Before the pig was released into the ring, it too was also slathered with the icky mud.

  Arielle pulled her canvas bag off her shoulder. “Guess what?”

  Sam looked her direction, attempting a smile. “What?”

  “Natalie and I made some T-shirts for you with your names.” She pulled four gray T-shirts out of the bag and tossed one to each of the guys.

  Sam held his up. On the front was a drawing of a pig sitting in a barrel. He couldn’t help but smile. “Gee, thanks.”

  “Yeah, turn it around and look at the back,” Natalie urged.

  Sam turned it around and saw his name.

  “Thanks.”

  “Sure thing. Go ahead and put it on.”

  Sam slipped it over the T-shirt he was already wearing. He’d purposefully worn his least-favorite pair of jeans and old tennis shoes, knowing they were going to end up a mess.

  As soon as everyone had their shirts on, Arielle had them stand so she could take their picture. Sam was glad everyone was excited, but he would have been just as happy to quit and walk away from this particular competition. As he sat in the bleachers, shoulder to shoulder between Jake and Jordan, Sam wondered again why he’d let them talk him into this.

  The event started with groups of little kids chasing piglets. Everyone cheered each time the kids got their hands on the pig. They cheered even louder when the kids slipped in the mud during their chase. Only one group actually got the pig into the barrel.

  The men’s division was next, and the first guys who entered the pig-wrestling ring made it look anything but easy. The goal of the contest was to catch a pig as a group of four, pick it up, and dump it into a barrel in the middle of the ring.

  The first group of guys managed to catch the pig, but the buzzer went off right before they got it into the barrel. The second group of guys didn’t even get a firm grip on the pig. They tried to race up to it and ended up flat on their faces in the mud more than once.

  Paul leaned across Jake. “We’re up after these guys. They look old and fat. I’m sure it will take them the whole time just to cross the pen.”

  Paul chuckled. “Oink, oink.”

  “I’m not too sure,” Jake shook his head. “These are last year’s winners. They’ve been farmers twice as long as you’ve been alive. If anyone knows how to tame a pig, it’s them.”

  “Yeah,” Jordan mumbled. “I’ve heard about these guys. I think I saw them on TV. They call themselves the Pig Whisperers.” He laughed, and Paul and Jake joined him.

  “Really?” Natalie turned to them, eyes wide.

  Jordan laughed harder. “No, it was just a joke.”

  Sam wasn’t in the mood for joking around. Instead, he kept his eyes on the timekeeper guy with the orange flag. When the flag dropped, he expected the men to rush forward like the others had done. Instead, they waited and then slowly began their trek across the pen. They didn’t move too fast. They didn’t make a noise. In fact, it seemed as if the whole crowd was holding its breath in anticipation.

  “Look at that. The pig isn’t running. He doesn’t even realize they’re coming.” Jake pointed.

  Sam felt his shoulders tighten with anxiety. Were they going to do it? Then he watched in amazement as the men circled the pig, picked him up, and deposited him in the bucket as easily as if they were throwing a Styrofoam cup into the trash.

  “That’s the way we have to do it.” Sam stood, knowing they were next. He looked at the clock keeper, waiting to hear the time.

  “Twen
ty-nine point five seconds!” the man yelled out.

  “No way,” Jake mumbled. “We can never beat that.”

  “Hey, stop jinxing us.” Paul socked his shoulder playfully. “We know the plan, right? We’re going to do it just like that—maybe a little faster.”

  “Next up,” the man on the microphone called, “are the Baconators! They are about to fry that pig, right boys?”

  “That’s right!” Sam heard himself saying.

  “Yippee!” Jordan called beside him.

  They entered the gate, and Sam was surprised by how thick the mud was. It wasn’t like the soft clay at the soft bottom in Heather Creek. Instead, it had a thicker consistency—like cement that had partially set.

  They had to place their hands on the rail near the gate and watch as the pig was released. The pig was huge—bigger than the others had been.

  “What is that? Godzilla pig?” he heard Jordan mutter.

  The blaring of a horn told them to start, and he knew the seconds were ticking by. Sam forgot about getting the best time. He focused on the pig and just hoped they’d get it into the barrel.

  He began inching closer, noticing the others doing the same. Jordan moved faster than the others, and Sam picked up his pace to catch up. The mud was slippery. It was like walking on ice, or grease. With each step he had to pause slightly to balance himself.

  “Come on, guys. You’re moving too slow. Pick up the pace.” The words were barely out of Jordan’s mouth when his feet slipped out from under him. Sam didn’t know someone could fall that fast. Jordan landed on his back with his arms and legs sprawled everywhere. Seeing this, the pig squealed and bolted in Sam’s direction.

  “Catch him!” Jake yelled, scurrying after the pig.

  Sam set his feet, scrunched down, and prepared to catch the pig. It approached, and he dove for it. His arms stretched out and wrapped around the pig, but it was just like trying to catch a large, slippery bullet. His hands felt the bristly hairs of the pig briefly, and then it was gone. Even though the pig moved on, Sam’s body continued falling forward. He tried to catch himself, but it was useless. His hands, arms, and chest hit the mud first and then his face.