Beyond the Cabin

  “Well,” I finally said, “yeah. Anyway, Luke probably wouldn’t help. Or he’d want me to pay him or something.”

  Mary nodded. “Or something.” She waggled her eyebrows and made a face that was an almost perfect imitation of Luke’s customary leer.

  I was so surprised that my laughter burst out too loud. I swallowed it back as quickly as I could, embarrassed, but then joined in when Mary’s smile dissolved into high-pitched peals.

  I found my head completely empty again as our laughter faded away under the brightening stars.

  Mary helped me again. Her face grew serious and a little hesitant. “You read out here a lot, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. Especially at night when the little ones are being insane in the room,” I said.

  “Why not in the living room?”

  I snorted. “A big one’s making noise in there.”

  “Who?” Mary asked, laughter playing at her mouth again.

  “Sauly. Playing his guitar again.”

  She laughed then stopped quickly. “Oh. He’s a very devoted artist.” Her mock-serious face broke into laughter again.

  For a second, I had worried that she was serious. Relieved, I laughed with her again. Why couldn’t I just relax?

  Mary grew quiet again. She seemed to have something on her mind. Her gaze fell on the hill leading to the pond. The illumination from the porch spilled less than halfway down that hill so that the light from the stars in the clear sky reflected off the pond. Without looking at me, she spoke again. “So would you mind if I read out here with you?”

  I was so surprised by her question that I didn’t know what to say. She wanted to read with me! That meant she didn’t think I was an idiot!

  She filled my silence. She must have been getting used to it. “I mean, I usually read in my room, but Sarah and Rachel play and then go to bed early. And I’ve seen you reading out here, but I didn’t want to intrude.”

  She didn’t talk like thirteen-year-olds in books talked. In books, thirteen-year-olds were kids. Mary wasn’t a kid. At least I didn’t think so. Not a normal one, at least. Seriously though, what was normal?

  I realized she was waiting for me to answer. “Uh. No, yeah. I mean, sure, that would be fine. You wouldn’t be intruding.” Why so formal, moron? I flashed a smile at her, hoping she didn’t see or hear how nervous I was. My fast-beating heart must have been pushing my shirt out, but I didn’t dare look.

  “Great!” She ran into the house, leaving the front door ajar. I heard her footsteps as she jogged up the stairs.

  I looked around the porch. Which chair would she take? Should I move one closer to me and the rest of them farther away to give her the right idea? Would she take that wrong? If she took it that way, would it be the wrong way?

  By the time I had decided not to do anything with the chairs, Mary was back, her book in hand. She walked quickly to the rocker a few feet away from me. Her lips stretching slightly, she pulled it closer to where I sat. “More light,” she explained without looking up.

  I said nothing, certain that if I opened my mouth my dry throat would betray me with a frog’s croak.

  As she sat, leaning back and putting her feet up on the railing, she looked quickly over at me. She smiled again.

  I blinked at what seemed like light coming from her face. I had to force myself not to stare.

  Saying nothing more, Mary settled back and seemed to somehow become completely absorbed right away. It took me much longer to finally get back into my book. I felt her presence like a space heater: close and warming. But as the wind that came nearly every Pennsylvania night began to sing in the trees surrounding the house, the story steadily drew me in. The sound of a brush stroking softly over a horse’s flanks replaced the sound of crickets’ songs and creaking trees. Instead of smelling spring and pine, I smelled the deep, sweet aroma of hay. I felt the love of the young man toward his horse.

  Chapter 18

  “Sauly! Come on! Some of us have stuff we want to do!” I said, clenching my fists in frustration. Why couldn’t this guy be in the same universe as the rest of us?

  “I don’t care,” Saul said. He plunked a dish down on the counter next to the sink.

  “Could you at least bring more than one plate at a time?” Luke asked, joining with me against Saul like he usually did. All of us kind of hated him sometimes. He was spoiled out of his mind, obviously.

  “Maybe,” Saul said, shrugging. He turned around and moseyed out of the kitchen and into the dining area.

  “Man,” I said, “sometimes I want to slap that guy right upside the face!”

  “Nasty,” Luke said. “Then you’d get artist on your hands.”

  I made a face at him. “Better than pimples.”

  Luke glared at me and looked around, seeing nobody nearby. “Hey, you want to come to the island before school?”

  “Nope.” I washed the platter Saul had brought in. “Got other stuff to do.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt you to do some exercise,” Luke said.

  “I get exercise.” I handed the suds-covered platter to Luke to rinse.

  “What?” Saul asked, sloping into the room with a pile of bowls. We’d had grapefruit as an extra treat this morning. Exciting.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “What are you talking about?” Saul demanded.

  “Your face,” Luke said.

  “Shut up,” Saul said, glaring at Luke.

  “What? You asked a question and now you want us to shut up? Demanding are we?” I said.

  “You guys are jerks,” Saul said, banging the stack of bowls down next to me.

  “You’re a dipstick,” Luke said.

  “At least I’m not stupid,” Saul said.

  Luke turned and pretended to lunge at Saul. Saul skittered back.

  “Just do your job, Sauly,” I said, putting the bowls in my warm, soapy water. “And hurry up.”

  “You’re not the boss,” Saul whined.

  That was it. Sauly needed to get slugged. I pulled my hands out of the water and shook them once. I spun and stepped quickly to Saul, grabbing his shirt. “No, I’m not the boss. But you’d better go faster or I’m gonna beat the snot out of you.”

  “Get off me!” Saul shouted, pushing at me.

  “Do the job!” I swallowed the last word a little. I didn’t need to get in worse trouble, so I let Saul go and nudged him toward the door.

  “Boys!” came a shout from the dining area. It was Joan’s voice. “Settle down!”

  Saul glared at me while I clenched and unclenched my fists, anger burning hot in me. Man, sometimes this guy pushed it too far! But I kept my mouth shut and my hands to my sides. No way was I going to get more lines to write.

  “Clear the stupid table, Sauly,” Luke said.

  “I’ll clear you,” Saul muttered, turning and slouching out of sight.

  “He’ll clear me?” Luke asked. He burst into laughter. “Clear me of what?” He elbowed me, obviously trying to dispel the tension.

  “Of air filters, or carburetors, I guess,” I said, turning back to my work.

  Luke laughed louder. “I wish! Maybe he could clear you of those dumb horse books.”

  “Shut up, Luke,” I said. What a dingbat. “They’re not dumb.”

  “They’re kids’ books,” Luke said.

  “They’re good,” I said. “I don’t see you reading them. How would you know?”

  “Silly stories, man. Stuff about volcanoes, now that’s the good stuff.”

  I glanced at Luke, sure he was joking. But there was no normal mocking leer. Weird guy.

  * * *

  From the heat in the classroom, I could tell that the sun was shining outside. Even though math class was geometry, I felt like it would never end! I wanted to get outside and feel the sun, at least for a bit and even if it was only on the porch, before getting back to work on the lines. Stupid lines.

  I looked across the room. Mary’s head was bent low, close to her notebook. E
very once in a while she would look up and appear to be listening to Penelope talk about angles and degrees. I wondered if she was actually listening or if she was doing something else. Maybe she was doing what I’d seen Esther doing. I imagined the heart shapes; my name and Mary’s name.

  Get a hold of yourself. I turned my attention back to Penelope, willing her to check her watch.

  Minutes that felt like hours later, Penelope called an end to school for the day. I was up and out of my seat in a flash. I thumped down the stairs to the second floor, then down to the first.

  I had been right. Bright sun greeted me as I opened the front door. There was still a chill in the air, but it felt great. I wandered to the side of the porch that still had some sun shining on it. I took a deep breath of cool, green-tasting air. Buds sprouted from tree branches. Thready, pale grass pushed up through the brown thatch. I took it all in. Yup, best time of year, Not only because my birthday was coming up.

  Birthdays were about the only fun thing the Faith did. They were always a big deal, with cake and ice cream and skits. The girls always wrote and performed a song for the birthday person, sometimes convincing one or more of the boys to participate.

  I knew it was dumb, but I couldn’t stop imagining what the song they were going to do for me would be about. Last year they had sung about my old denim jacket that Esther had always teased me about because I wore it everywhere. With Mary leading the songwriting this time, since she was the oldest girl, maybe it would be different. I knew that it wouldn’t be sentimental or anything, but maybe she would slip in something that only I could understand.

  I’m an idiot. I headed to the opposite end of the porch, looking out over the pond. I dropped into the nearest chair. Suddenly an image flashed into my head, accompanied by a voice. Sitting on the bench late last summer, the morning Mal left. “Twits on a string,” I muttered, remembering the conversation me and Mal had that day.

  I felt the door open before I heard it.

  “Nice day huh?” Saul said, his guitar slung over his back and a thin canvas bag in one hand. He came up behind me.

  “Sure.”

  Without looking at me, Saul leaned his guitar against the chair and sat down on the chair next to me.

  “What’re you doing?” I asked.

  “This’s a good place to draw,” Saul said, pulling a pencil out of his bag.

  “Are you kidding me?” I said. “Right next to me? Back off!”

  Saul shrugged. “There’s space. Don’t be a pig.”

  He was right, but seriously, why couldn’t he find somewhere else? I stood, not wanting to get into it with him. Just ignore him.

  But I couldn’t leave it at that.“Are you trying to be a jerk?”

  “I’m just drawing.” He flipped open a nice-looking notebook.

  “And you can’t find somewhere else?”

  Saul finally looked up. His long pale face stretched in a forced smile. “This is fine, thanks.”

  Unbelievable. “You’re doing this on purpose.” I needed to leave. Now. I kept imaging myself snapping his guitar over my knee. This couldn’t end well. I took a step toward the front door. “You’re being a jerk.”

  “You’re the jerk!” Saul flared. “You think you can boss everyone around. Well you can’t!”

  I got it. Sauly was getting back at me for this morning with the dishes. “Obviously I’m not the boss.” Keep going. Just leave. I reached for the door.

  “Then don’t act like it. Ever since Malachi died you want everybody to treat you like you own the place.”

  “Saul.” Pure fury erupted in my gut. “I told you not to talk about him.” Part of me knew I should get inside, fast. Much more of me wanted to flatten him.

  “You can’t tell me what to do!” Saul kicked the chair I’d left.

  “You could at least try not to be a jerk and butt in when I’m sitting there.”

  “I have a right to sit here too! There are chairs for both of us.”

  “You know you wanted to piss me off, don’t act like you want to sit with me!” Why did he have to be so annoying? I wanted to grab his stupid guitar and precious drawing pad and fling them all the way into the pond.

  “You’re just selfish! You think you’re in charge and you think you can do whatever you want!”

  “That’d be you, dummy.” I took a step back toward him. I knew. I knew I was going to get more lines. I knew I’d get in trouble, but Sauly was being ridiculous.

  Saul stood, getting in my face. “Stop calling me a dummy! You’re always calling me that.” A tear fell from Saul’s left eye. “You’re the dummy!”

  “Back off.” I said, pushing Saul hard. What was he doing crying?

  As Saul stepped back, trying to keep his balance, I grabbed for him, seeing it all the instant before it happened. The back of one his feet hit the leg of one of the chairs and he fell. Putting out his hands, Saul bumped his guitar. The neck of the guitar slapped part of the chair with a loud crack.

  Saul’s eyes went wide. He jumped to his feet, cradling his guitar. “You broke it.” He swore at me. “There’s a crack!”

  “You broke it! Stop getting in my face.” I felt bad but at the same time wished the whole neck had torn off the dumb thing. I turned away and made for the door, wanting to get out of there before the burning in my chest exploded.

  “You’re dead.” Saul was putting his guitar carefully on a chair. Then he looked up and lunged toward me.

  “Stop it!” I shouted.

  “I’m gonna kill you,” Saul screamed, tears on his cheeks. “You broke my guitar!”

  “It’s fine! It’s not broken,” I yelled back, bracing myself.

  Saul tried to tackle me, but I held strong. I pushed at Saul’s chest. He fell back, breathing hard. His pale face was mottled with fury.

  “Quit it Saul,” I shouted, a knot of fear in my stomach. Saul was stupid enough to actually try to hurt me instead of just burning off the anger for a bit.

  But Saul had lost it. He leapt at me, swinging his fists at my face. I ducked and stumbled back. Saul followed, his fists flying. One connected on my cheek, pain erupting. I put up my hands to stop the swings, but our wrists connected. Both of us shouted in pain.

  My vision glowing red, I swung with my right fist, aiming for Saul’s gut. Saul tried to dodge, but couldn’t move fast enough. I connected. Saul gasped, the wind obviously knocked out of him. Fury built in me, but I fought it back. This had to end before I killed him. I stepped in and curled a foot around the back of Saul’s left leg. I pushed; Saul went down.

  “Stop.” I took a ragged breath. “You’re such an idiot!”

  Saul, sitting on the ground and hunched over, swore at me again, his breath catching. “You broke my guitar! You’re gonna pay for it!”

  “No I’m not. And you broke it by getting in my face.” My throat hurt from shouting and the fight. I turned away again, sick of the sight of him curled on the porch floor. But my anger was too high. I knew I shouldn’t, but Sauly picked the wrong time. Mal dies and I somehow end up with a ridiculous number of lines.

  Not a good time.

  My mind went blank. I turned back. I tried to control my breathing, but it felt like my heart was beating in the place where my lungs needed to be. “Keep away from me.” I kicked at Saul, pulling the kick right before it hit. I felt the toe of my shoe dig into Saul’s side.

  Saul yelled in totally unconvincing pain and began to cry more.

  I should’ve kicked him hard enough that he’d fly over the railing into the gravel bed. I wished I was Luke at that moment, knowing Luke wouldn’t have pulled the kick. That was why Saul never got into fights with Luke.

  “Joshua Raphael Kerr!”

  I jumped, surprised by the incredibly loud voice. I spun. My heart stopped and then sank into my stomach. Miriam was standing outside the front door, her long black hair streaming in the breeze. How much had she seen?

  “You come here this instant!” she screamed. I had never heard her
yell so loudly. Not even when I had yelled at her after she told me that we could learn a lesson from Mal’s death.

  I knew she had missed everything until the kick. Of course. As I approached her, I kept my eyes down.

  “What in God’s name are you thinking?” Miriam demanded.

  I said nothing. The red flame was gone. It was going to be five thousand lines now.

  “What were you doing? Why would you kick Saul like that?”

  Yep. She saw the kick. Not Saul attacking me. Not Saul hitting me in the face. With my luck, I probably wouldn’t even have a bruise as proof.

  “You get up to your room and don’t leave until I call for you. Do your lines while you wait,” Miriam said.

  I began to move past her.

  “Joshua. Look at me!”

  I stopped and turned, raising my gaze to her eyes.

  “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

  Was this how mothers talked? Was she being a mother or a cult leader? Did she even know how to be a mother? I looked away from her, feeling like some deep, dark hole in me had appeared as the fury of the fight went away. Like a cavern or huge abyss that would never be gone. “No.”

  “I am disgusted. I am appalled. Go to your room and do your lines. Somebody will come for you later.”

  I turned again and went inside. Looking up the stairs and beginning to climb, I saw Luke on the landing.

  “What happened?” Luke asked.

  “Me and Saul were fighting, but Miriam only saw me kick him. Once again he’s scot-free and I’m in trouble,” I said, trying to force a smile.

  “That sucks.”

  “Yeah. Gotta go to the room,” I said.

  Luke nodded. “Alright. I’ll keep people out.”

  Sometimes Luke was halfway decent.

  I walked past him and closed the door. Wait. I had to do lines. I considered whether I really should. Deciding that now was as good a time as any, I turned back and opened the door. Luke, halfway down the stairs, looked back in surprise. “What?”

  “Gotta get something,” I explained. I ran up to the school room, got my notebook and pen, and returned to my room. Luke had disappeared. The house, much of it in deep shadow, was quiet like it often was during the afternoon. It didn’t seem like there were four little kids and five teenagers in the house. I corrected myself. No, not everyone was in the house, and the four little ones were upstairs.