Eruption (Yellowblown™ Book 1)
Page 13
He grimaced. “They say they’re going somewhere in Iowa, but they won’t tell me exactly where, and I’m not supposed to go there or go home. What kind of bull crap is that?”
It was bull crap. Something didn’t jive with his midget-football supporters casting him adrift. I might expect that from Mia’s family, not from a stable ranching clan.
“And Dad was being such a hard ass. He’s always been strict, but not like that.”
“Do you think things are worse than they’re letting on?”
“I think things must suck for my dad to leave at all. He said he got what stock he could hauled out.” He looked away from me, out the window at the woods. “He had cancer a few years ago. I wonder if that’s what they aren’t telling me.”
“Hopefully they’re going east. No matter what’s going on with them, east has to be better.”
I turned onto our driveway. I had no idea what else to say so I reached over to put my hand over his. He flipped it so he could curl his dirt-stained fingers around mine.
“Thanks for taking me behind the house.” He looked down at our hands clasped as much in a gesture of solidarity as affection. “I guess you could tell I needed a few minutes.”
“Been there. Have the T-shirt.” A glimmer of happiness sparked in my chest as I eased up in front of the closed garage. “And look. You survived your first trip as my passenger.”
He smirked.
My phone chirped as I slammed the car door shut.
Text from Mia:
“Uh-oh. Poor Mia is having a rough day, too.”
“Yeah, I bet Jersey is a barrel of fun these days,” he said as he opened the front door for me.
The aroma of Mom’s meatloaf filled the house. I hoped she’d at least used some beef, instead of trying to fool us with tasteless ground turkey. Boone excused himself to take a shower, so I texted more with Mia.
Text from Mia:
Mom and Dad converged on me the instant the water started running in the shower. They waved me out to the garage for I had no idea what. I stopped a few feet inside, stunned anew by the inventory. In addition to the dining table fertilizer, we owned a bizarre assortment of building and plumbing supplies, stacks of tarps, coils of garden hose, food-service sized cans of fruits and vegetables, Grampa’s tiller, a hoard of gas cans and other containers that put Boone’s small collection to shame. The thicket of hand tools made my shoulders hurt looking at them, the most impressive a long, vicious-toothed saw with handles at both ends.
“What’s Boone’s situation?” Dad asked, more accustomed to his hijacked garage than me.
“Um, his parents are leaving, but they don’t want him to come where they’re going.”
Mom and Dad shared a just-as-we-thought moment.
“Does he have anywhere to go?” Mom asked.
“I don’t think so. If he does, he didn’t say anything to me. He’s still a little spun out. And I didn’t want to quiz him and make him think he had to leave.”
“He’s welcome to stay with us, but we thought we’d better ask you first,” Dad said.
I pushed my hair off my forehead, trying to act cool while my heart rate went up to something approaching cardiac arrest. “Fine with me,” I said.
Mom grinned. “Something tells me it would be more than fine.”
Dad squinted at me. “He’d better act like a gentleman around you girls or he’s out,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “In fact, maybe he should sleep in my old room down at Grampa and Grandma’s.”
“Dad,” I groaned.
“Oh, Matt,” Mom sighed. “He’s the most polite boy either of the girls has ever brought home.” She patted my shoulder. “We’ll see what he says.”
At dinner, Sara shared every detail of the Gardenburg School District’s systematic destruction of her life. They’d reduced the school week to Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, and cancelled all extra-curriculars.
“Danny’s parents are being ridiculous,” she moaned. “They say he can’t drive to Gardenburg to go on a date. Where else are we supposed to go? I mean, for four days a week? Like we’re going to hang out at our houses when the Internet is, like, totally unreliable and the only thing on TV is Yellowblown, Yellowblown, Yellowblown. I’m so sick of it!”
“We’ve got plenty to keep you occupied around here,” Dad said with a sarcastic smile.
“Gee, thanks but no thanks. I poked enough seeds in the ground to last me a lifetime.” She sighed. “I’m glad we got to have Homecoming before this mess. I still think I should have been allowed to walk out on the track with Danny. I’m his girlfriend after all, even if I can’t be in the court.”
Boone kept his head down through my sister’s diatribe. He ate a second plate of meatloaf (the good kind) while she worked through a litany of complaints about the extra projects the teachers assigned to keep the students “engaged”—complete with air quotes—over their four-day weekends. I privately agreed with her since the WCC online learning plan had gone exactly nowhere. Her delivery left much to be desired, though. Sara was at the weird age where, one day she acted like this, and the next she would be selfless, mature and fun to be around. On moody days like this, I wanted to knock her block off.
When Mom brought out a pot of coffee and some mugs, I knew The Conversation was about to happen.
“Ugh,” Sara said, “if you guys are going to sit and talk, I’m outta here.”
“You’ve been talking for twenty minutes straight,” I said.
“Whatever,” she said as she cleared her plate.
“God forbid people actually converse over a cup of coffee in a kitchen instead of typing messages into little handheld gizmos at Starbucks,” Dad called to her retreating back. Mom handed him his decaf with a dribble of cream. “Thanks, hon. So, Boone, we weren’t trying to be nosy but, from your side of the conversation, it sounds like your situation may have changed.”
Boone sat up straight. He looked from Dad to me and back again while Mom put full mugs in front of us. “Yes, sir. My parents are leaving the ranch, or so they say. They don’t want me to try to go there. But I might go anyway. I wouldn’t be surprised to find them there.”
Mom murmured into her coffee while Dad frowned. “I doubt that,” he said. “Things weren’t too bad south and east earlier this week, but Illinois…well, the farther west I drove the less normal the situation felt. Some of the fuel stations were out of gas. The rest stops were full of people coming from the west. Trucks and campers and broken down cars, overheated or eaten up by the ash. That was a couple of days ago. I can’t imagine it’s gotten any better.”
“I got supplies back at school. I can get myself home,” Boone said confidently.
“Maybe,” Dad said. “We—Candy and me, and I’m sure Violet, too—we think you might want to trust your parents on this. You know, see where they land and join them there, in a few days.”
“The first priority of all parents,” Mom interjected, “is to protect their children. If they feel the situation out there is too dangerous, maybe you should listen.”
“You’re welcome to stay here. For as long as you need a place,” Dad said.
Boone’s neck flushed at the idea. “No, sir, I can’t impose on you like that. I mean, I probably eat more than Violet and Sara combined.”
Dad leaned back in his chair to fold his hands over a stomach that had been flatter a few years ago. “I have to admit, it was quite an imposition when you wrestled the tractor around to dig those holes, slick as grease. Hell, I’d still be out there fighting with that fence.”
“You won’t need post holes dug every day.”
“Maybe not specifically. Still, seems like a time when a set of strong shoulders and some practical experience might be darned useful. I’m not saying we’ll be slave drivers or anything, but my dad’s in his seventies and I’ve never been very handy. Anyway, you’re far from an imposition.”
Mom spoke before Boone could decline again. “Look, visit with us unti
l your parents decide where they’re staying. There’s no point in your going home if they aren’t there, and less point in your wandering around aimlessly. You can use our landline.”
Times had sure changed if a wired telephone was a big selling point.
I watched the negotiations with both sympathy and hope. I’d been on the receiving end of the Matt and Candy double-team before. It was stupefying, plus Boone had already gone a few rounds with his own parents today. Still, I wanted Mom and Dad to win this one.
The thought of Boone leaving alone for the unknown made me feel sick.
Text to Mia:
I wandered into Sara’s room after midnight, buoyed by elation and hyperness. I wished Mia were here. Or would answer my text. I also wouldn’t have minded having a serious make-out session with Hotness, but he’d been dazed since accepting my parents’ power invitation. He’d retreated to his room after the local news.
Sara lay on her stomach on her bed, feet kicking through the air as she studied a hairstyle magazine. “What do you think about pink streaks, like these?” She pointed at a model with stripes the color and width of bubble gum tape in her honey-blonde hair.
I shrugged. “Not bad. I think these darker ones, the green or blue, go better with your natural color.”
“Maybe. What’s up?”
“I wanted to tell you Boone’s going to stay for awhile. Until his parents get settled somewhere.”
“Nice.” She flipped a page. “How did you ever catch him? He’s fab.”
Not sure whether to be insulted or flattered, I decided to make a joke since I couldn’t answer the question anyway. I had no idea how I’d ever attracted him. “Sex,” I said.
“Oh, is he good?” Sara said, not looking up from a fire-engine red dye job set into spikes perfect for shish-kebabs.
“I was kidding.”
Sara shrugged. “With a body like his, he sure wouldn’t get boring for a while. Eye candy, if nothing else.”
“Omigod,” I said. “You keep your eyes on Danny’s candy.”
Her feet stopped kicking. She looked up at me with a wicked smile. “Don’t worry. I’m not after your man.”
“Eww. Boone is like six years older than you.”
She turned back to her magazine. “You should take him somewhere tomorrow. It’s the weekend, after all. Have fun before everything closes and we all die in this vacuum of nothingness.”
I considered the idea as she flipped absently through the short hairdos. I should get him out of the house. I wish I’d thought of it tonight. A movie or a slice of pizza might have taken his mind off things at home.
I retreated to my own room to flop on the bed, at first thinking about Boone, then horrified by the realization my baby sister had definitely given up her virginity before me. Should I have a talk with her to make sure she and Danny were taking precautions? I scrapped the idea. Her reaction would be scathing and sarcastic, and, if the conversation lasted more than thirty seconds, she’d learn she knew way more about sex than me.
The picture in my head of her and scrawny Danny almost made me puke, so I tried to replace it with one of me and Boone. Maybe if I took him out tomorrow we could go park somewhere….
The light flickered then went out. A few electronics in the house wheezed farewell beeps and I heard my Dad muttering downstairs. I rolled over to go to sleep.
No power also meant no water, since an electric well pump supplied our house. Mom, of course, had full gallon jugs on standby in every bathroom so we could at least brush our teeth and occasionally flush the toilet.
I fixed a bowl of cereal with milk from a jug wedged in a small cooler of ice, like a split of champagne. A hand-lettered sign on the fridge said “Do NOT open.”
Boone wandered out of the hallway, black sports socks shuffling on the laminate flooring.
I poured coffee and helped him get cereal before I asked, “How about a bike ride?”
As he unloaded his bike, I noticed a thin layer of beige dust coated his truck. I pictured the ash hanging like germs in the air, invisible until you noticed a clean surface now gritty, harmless until power went out without any good reason.
I led us northwest first, skirting the high fences of the weapons base, then east to the gravel roads of the state forest. We sat on the damp bank of the White River to eat a couple of peanut butter sandwiches and suck water out of our packs.
“There’s more open space in Indiana than I realized.”
“We’re lucky here, I guess. We’re insulated by government land. On the other hand, things are pretty dead. Not a big night life. We don’t even have a post office.”
“Sounds like Nebraska. You have more trees.”
“Hey, that reminds me, do you want to go get pizza tonight, for something to do?”
“Sure,” he said. He looked at me—really looked at me—for the first time since yesterday afternoon. He exhaled heavily. “This ride is perfect, Violet. Exactly what I needed. I’m glad you thought of it.”
“It’s what got me started biking. Clearing my head.”
“That’s part of it for me, though it’s more like my blood starts to feel stale if I don’t keep moving.”
I pointed across the river. “There are trails in the state forest, for hiking mostly but some allow mountain bikes. Maybe we can look at my map back at the house and pick out a loop to do next week.”
For a moment, I imagined we hadn’t left school and could pedal back to our carefree life on campus. He kissed me for the first time in days. Our lips melded in perfect synchronization, touched, blended. I cupped his cheek with my palm, trying to transmit how psyched I was we’d stolen more time, despite his worrying circumstances.
He slid closer to me to brace an arm behind my back while curving his other hand over my sweaty waist. After a few minutes of kisses that forced my fingers to curl into his shirt, he pulled back to look at me with a half-smile
“How do you always know the right things to say and do, Biker-girl?” he whispered.
My normal response to such a question would be to get flustered and deny, deny, deny. But we were having a moment here, and I didn’t want to ruin it. And I knew exactly what I wanted to say. I tilted my head. “I know we’ve only been going out for a little while, but I feel like I know you. Things are…easy with you.”
He studied my face and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Yeah,” he agreed gruffly. “As bizarre as our lives have gotten, this minute right now is awesome.”
I smiled up at him and nodded. He hopped to his feet then extended a hand to pull me up into his arms.
“My timing sucks,” he said. “Weren’t we in the parking lot of a trail the last time this happened?”
“The dorm room was good, though. Maybe we should aim to be under a roof next time.” I pulled his head down for another kiss, felt the strong cords at the back of his neck.
A chuckle rumbled in his chest, sending happy vibrations through me. “Freakin’ freshman,” he complained.
Our rides near campus prepared us well for pedaling home, but, after straining uphill for nearly a mile, the steeper slope of the driveway felt like a trucker-lower-your-gear grade. Mom and Dad stood off to the left of the drive in the low brush at the edge of the forest, staring at the ground. I stopped with Boone right behind me.
“Did you have a nice ride?” Mom asked, one hand up to shade her eyes. She liked Boone. I mean, she really liked Boone, and if one thing would make this boardinghouse situation work, that was the thing.
“Yep. Is the power on yet?” I asked. I needed a shower.
“Not yet. I asked Sara to yell down if it came on so I can put in some laundry.”
Boone had laid his bike down to walk toward them.
“Watch your step,” Dad warned. “It gets mucky.”
Boone squinted at the ground at their feet then looked at me. “Is this one of the springs you told me about?”
I nodded, pleased that he remembered.
He walked uphill to
circle around to where they were. Without a word, he studied the area, noting the source of the spring and the path the steady stream took through the weeds to a pipe under our driveway where it continued toward the road, off our property. “That puts out good volume,” he said.
“Exactly,” Dad said. “Candy and I were talking about using it for water, with the power situation being the way it is.”
“That’s why we had you bring all those purification kits,” Mom said to me. “And why I bought so much bleach.”
I picked my way up to them.
“Is this the only one?” Boone asked.
“No, but it’s the biggest. There’s a small one behind the house.”
“Hmm. Can I see it?” All three of us could tell his Nebraska rancher wheels were turning.
We studied the second tiny spring, never more than an annoyance before, since it necessitated a drainage ditch around the yard and made the swampy lawn at its edge grow twice as fast as everywhere else.
“It’s small but more convenient to the house. Does it freeze in the winter?” Boone noted.
“Never has before,” Dad said.
Boone stuck his hands in the pockets of his bike shorts. “You might want to use both. If you dug a pit here and lined it, you could divert the flow a little and have a source of water handy for the house. The bigger one might be important for volume.”
“I’ve seen springs with a pipe coming right out of them. Do you think that would work here?”
“It’s worth a try.”
“Don’t disturb it too much,” Mom said. Always the worrier.
Dad, Mom and Boone headed for the garage. I walked our bikes up to the front porch. “Hey Mom, I can hear the TV blaring inside. I guess the power’s on.”
She rolled her eyes. “Teenagers.”
I yelled as I came through the door. “Thanks for letting everyone know the electricity is back, Sara.”
“Oh, yeah.” She waved me off, absorbed in the incredible results of some fake reality makeover show. With everything going on in the world, I couldn’t believe fluff like this still got occasional airtime.