Silt, Denver Cereal Volume 8

by Claudia Hall Christian

  “Let go, Jacob,” Celia said.

  “What does it matter if I know what’s going to happen?” Jacob shrugged. “The company is almost half owned by employees. It’s not like before when I could change directions on a whim. Every single thing on this job looks perfect on paper. And trust me—the employees are watching the bottom line. I can’t go to them and tell them the job doesn’t feel right. Not with big money on the table.”

  “Show me now,” Celia said. “What’s wrong with my company?”

  The scene in front of them shifted to the new project out by the airport.

  “They want us to manage the entire creation of what will be a new town,” Jacob said.

  “So?”

  “We’re a tiny company,” Jacob said. “How can we do that?”

  “What did the state say when they gave you the job?” Celia asked.

  “They wanted to increase opportunity for people,” Jacob said. “We’re moving toward one hundred percent employee ownership. The Governor wanted to put that feather in his cap.”

  “Sounds pretty good,” Celia said. “How’s it going?”

  “We’re doing it, if that’s what you mean,” Jacob said.

  “Any problems?”

  “No,” Jacob said. “But people I like and trust, like Bambi and Rodney, they don’t like it either. There’s just a weird feeling. Those guys who quit over the bullying Noelle thing? They’re subcontractors on the job, and there every day. They seem so smug and superior. It’s weird.”

  “I thought they always thought they were superior?” Celia asked. “You did, after all, sell shares to all those brown people.”

  “Yes, the browns.” Jacob shook his head. “And the blacks. Don’t forget them.”

  “I haven’t,” Celia said. “I love seeing Rodney and Yvonne together and happy.”

  Jacob smiled.

  “What do you see that no one else can?” Celia asked him the annoying question she used to ask when he was a child. He scowled at her.

  “What do you see?” she repeated.

  “Mom, I really don’t want to . . .”

  “I get that,” Celia said. “Do you ever want to get out of this vision?”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “What do you see that no one else can?”

  “I see . . .”

  As if they were in the center of a Lazy Susan, the scene spun under them.

  “Hold on!” Jacob said.

  His mother laughed and their bench spun. Soon, they had a bird’s eye view of the new project and most of northeastern Colorado.

  “Looks pretty good to me,” Celia said.

  “Who’s that?” Jacob pointed to two people standing in the near distance.

  “Looks like Bumpy Wilson,” Celia said.

  “That’s Jeraine.” Jacob pointed to the men.

  “Should I let them do that fracking on this land in Dearfield?” Bumpy asked.

  Bumpy pointed toward the Niobrara oil wells near the border of Colorado.

  “There’s oil and natural gas right here,” Bumpy said. “And men who are going to pay big money for it.”

  “That’s why we’re building this city,” Jacob said. “To house the Niobrara oil field workers.”

  “Look at that,” Celia pointed to the oil field.

  An enormous metal tower pushed pressurized fluid into the earth.

  “That’s a fracking tower, Mom,” Jacob said.

  “No,” Celia said. “See it.”

  Jacob reached out with his senses. He could see the waves of pressure coming off the well like ripples in a river. He saw the ground rupture to release its buried treasure. The oil company stood eagerly to collect the bounty. With each injection of fluid, the ground shifted.

  “The pressure’s building,” Celia said. “What happens next?”

  Jacob shut his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, the ground was shaking. Bumpy and Jeraine were knocked on their sides like bowling pins. The Lipson project was a disaster zone. A jagged crack ran down the center of the newly paved Main Street. Equipment toppled over or fell into sink holes. Their portable construction trailers were tossed like dice in an enormous craps game.

  People were screaming in horror and pain. Some workers ran for their lives. People ran to help those stuck in upended earth moving equipment. Rodney was screaming in rage over a man who’d been cut in half. Honey was stuck in a sink hole. The unknown fault made its presence known in the death and destruction of the work site.

  “Enough,” Jacob said. “I’ve seen enough.”

  They were back on Guanella Pass looking at Mount Evans.

  “Did you know?” Celia asked.

  “I knew something was wrong,” Jacob said. “I could feel a weird sense of pressure. I just . . . believed them, went along, and . . .”

  “What will you do now?”

  “I have no idea,” Jacob said. “It will cost us millions to get out of it. A geological report will take years to complete. There’s no evidence that this will happen. No one is going to believe me and . . .”

  “You’ll be the weirdo.”

  “Again,” Jacob said. “I hate being the weirdo.”

  “If you finish Honey’s project?”

  “She’ll move out, and I really enjoy her living at the Castle,” Jacob said.

  “She never mentioned moving out,” Celia said.

  “If she moves to the new apartments, she can live with twenty-four hour nursing assistance, no stairs, everything is brand new.”

  “You should trust more,” Celia said.

  “Been there before,” Jacob shrugged.

  “You have to stop this,” Celia said.

  “How?” Jacob asked.

  “Who did you see in this vision?”

  “Bumpy. Jeraine,” Jacob said.

  “Maybe you could ask Jeraine when you go finish his house,” Celia said.

  “I have time?”

  “You have some time,” Celia said. “And son?”

  “Yes Mom,” Jacob said.

  “You’ve treated people fairly and been a good person all of your life,” Celia said. “People trust you. You need to trust them to think outside their wallet.”

  “Doesn’t seem like anyone does that anymore,” Jacob said.

  “You’d be surprised,” Celia smiled.

  “Anything else?” Jacob asked.

  “Just that I love you son,” Celia leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Tell Val that I love her and believe in her. Oh, and Jackie can see me.”

  Jacob slowly opened his eyes, and smiled at Valerie.

  “Mom says ‘Hi.’” Jacob smiled. He started to get up and his head exploded with pain. He lay back down.

  “I’m glad you’re back.” Valerie kissed his forehead.

  He smiled.

  “I’ll get you some juice.” Valerie moved away from him. “Did Mom say anything else?”

  “She said she loves you and she believes in you,” he said.

  Valerie smiled and got up. She was almost to the door when he said.

  “Oh and Jackie can see her,” Jacob said.

  “I knew it!” Valerie beamed at him. “Mike said I was imagining things. I knew that shadow was Mom with Jackie. Every time Jackie gets scared, the shadow shows up. Mom. I just knew it. Thanks.”

  She went out the door and he lay down again. He took his cell phone out of his pocket.

  “Jill?”

  “Hi!” Jill said. “Is everything okay? Blane called to say you were having a vision.”

  “Yeah,” Jacob said. “I wonder if you could come pick me up.”

  “But . . . you were really clear,” Jill said. “Home imprisonment for the breeding stock.”

  “I was wrong,” Jacob said. “Would you mind taking my Jeep? It has my tools in the back.”

  “Sure.” Jill’s voice relayed her glee. “Where are we going?”

  “Tanesha’s,” Jacob said.

  “Really?” Jill’s voice rose with excitement. “But
that’s a lot of stairs and . . .”

  “Have you had any bleeding?” Jacob asked.

  “No,” Jill said. “We’re fine.”

  “If you do, you’ll go back to home imprisonment?” Jacob asked.

  “Of course,” Jill said. “I would never risk the boys or myself.”

  “Then we’re probably all right.”

  “Yea!” Jill hung up the phone.

  Smiling, Jacob lay down on the carpet. That was easy. Before he could wonder how to deal with the hard part, Valerie walked in with a flood of cheerful questions about his vision and juice.

  Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty

  Huge risk

  Tuesday afternoon—1:05 p.m.

  Samantha pulled her car up to the Castle gate. Charlie gave her the code and she punched it into the keypad. The gate opened.

  “Those photographers would get old, fast,” she said, as she parked the car.

  “You get used to it,” Charlie said. “If they get a photo of Jackie, they can make hundreds of thousands of dollars. And look at them.”

  Samantha turned to look at the photographers.

  “They’re just trying to feed their families,” Charlie said.

  Samantha smiled at him.

  “Are you going to be all right?” Samantha asked.

  “I think so,” Charlie said. “Before you say it, I will be careful.”

  Samantha smiled at him.

  “Why are you doing all of this?” Samantha asked. “When I was your age, all I cared about was getting nicer clothes, and what boys would ask me out, and why, oh why, was I related to the weirdo twins?”

  Charlie smiled.

  “I don’t know if I would do it,” Samantha said.

  “If you had the chance to maybe save someone’s life, would you have done that?” Charlie asked.

  Samantha turned to look at him.

  “I mean, Aden always says, ‘Run the tape, Charlie. Where’s this gonna go?’ Mostly he means on using drugs and being an asshole, but when I run this tape . . . These guys . . . they’re gonna kill someone. Maybe they won’t mean it; maybe they’ll want to kill that person; maybe that person will be me. But sooner or later, they’re gonna kill someone. They almost killed Tink. I was there at the hospital. She was mostly dead.”

  Charlie shrugged.

  “What would you do?” Charlie asked. “If you were my age?”

  Samantha looked out the windshield. She didn’t say anything for a while.

  “That’s what I thought,” Charlie said.

  “I’ll do anything I can to help you,” Samantha said. “And my anything is pretty big.”

  Charlie gave her an impish grin and she laughed.

  “Come on,” Charlie said. “Mrs. Valerie told me to make sure you came in when you dropped me off, and I don’t want to make her mad.”

  “Val? She’s a sweetie.”

  “She’s really scary when she’s mad.” Charlie gave an exaggerated shiver.

  Samantha laughed. They got out of the car and went into the house. They heard muffled laughing and loud thumps.

  “What’s going on here?” Samantha asked.

  “Oh, Delphie’s got everyone cleaning out a room downstairs,” Charlie smiled.

  “I thought work and teenagers didn’t mix,” Samantha said.

  “You haven’t worked with Delphie or this house,” Charlie said. “There’s always something spooky or weird, in this house. Or beautiful. So many people have lived here. We cleaned out one room downstairs where some vagrants had stuffed all their possessions in hidden wall compartments. It was sort of gross and sort of great. Delphie was able to send the vagrants’ families photos, and even an old pocket watch. I wanted to keep the watch, but Delphie was sure the family would want it back. They did.”

  Charlie shrugged.

  “You should join us,” Charlie said. “We have lots of pregnant clothes here.”

  They heard a loud boom and a loud laugh.

  “Honey and MJ are helping,” Charlie smiled. “This is going to be fun. Let’s take a look.”

  Charlie waved Samantha toward the stairs to the basement. They went down the long stairwell, turned the corner, and were confronted with a cloud of black dust. Charlie stepped back. They heard a high pitched girl’s laugh.

  “That’s Ivy.” Charlie smiled.

  “You really like her,” Samantha said.

  “She’s just a kid,” Charlie said. “She’s wild and very fun. I bet she’s scaring the crap out of Noelle.”

  “No she’s not!” Carrying a box, Noelle appeared right in front of him. She punched his shoulder and walked past him. “I like her.”

  Noelle was down the hall before she yelled back, “Nash really likes her.”

  “Of course he does,” Charlie said. “Are you game?”

  “Sure,” Samantha said.

  “Sandy!” Charlie yelled.

  For all his maturity, in this moment, Charlie was every bit a sixteen-year-old boy. Samantha scowled at him, but Sandy appeared from a room along the hall.

  “Charlie!” Sandy hugged him. “Welcome home! Samantha! Thank you so much for helping us.”

  Samantha smiled at Sandy.

  “You need to change,” Sandy said to Charlie. “Go now before you see the girls.”

  “But . . .” Charlie’s entire posture shifted. The strong, thoughtful young man was gone, leaving a grouchy child in his place.

  “Now!” Sandy pointed up the stairs. “You better hurry because Tink and Ivy are leaving in a bit and I know you want to see them.”

  Charlie scowled at her. He opened his mouth; Sandy shook her head. He slunk up the stairs.

  “That’s impressive,” Samantha said in a low voice.

  “He wants to see his girlfriend,” Sandy laughed. “It’s all about leverage.”

  “He said you might have some clothes I could wear?” Samantha asked. “I thought I’d stay for a while. It would be good for me to see how Charlie and the girls interact.”

  “Sure. You’re taller than I am, but just as huge.” Sandy pointed down another hall. “Some of my old clothes are down here in the community closet.”

  “I got big right away,” Samantha said.

  “Me too,” Sandy said. “Have you seen Jill?”

  Samantha shook her head.

  “She’s having twins,” Sandy laughed. “She’s taller than I am. I mean, who isn’t? Right? But she looks . . . I mean, she could pass for just being heavy around the middle.”

  “Not me,” Samantha smiled.

  “Me either,” Sandy said. “Jake let Jill out of her house arrest, that’s what she calls bed rest. She traipsed down the stairs. Incredible. She’s due in less than two months!”

  Samantha laughed.

  “She was that way with Katy. She waited tables until the day she had Katy, and then she was back up a couple days later. Of course, necessity drove some of that.” Sandy pushed open a swinging door. She turned on the light and four long closet rods full of clothing appeared. “Jake made this room for all our old clothes. It’s great for the kids because they can swap. Honey’s smaller than I am, but she wore some of my maternity clothes. She can even wear some of the kids’ clothes. Val is really generous. She leaves all her designer clothes here when she’s done. Except the dresses, of course.”

  “Where are her dresses?” Samantha asked.

  “They have their own special climate controlled closet,” Sandy said. “It’s above Mike’s studio.”

  “That’s right.” Samantha smiled. “I was there helping Val find something special to wear when she had Jackie.”

  “When she was crazy?” Sandy nodded.

  Samantha nodded.

  “You’re a good friend. Now, let’s see . . .” Sandy waded into the closet. “Everything is set up by size so it’s easy for the kids. Katy’s just starting to grow so she’s wearing some of Noelle’s old clothes. Tink and Ivy are going to look through the closet before they go. They’re welcome to anything we
have, of course.”

  “There isn’t a lot of boys’ stuff here,” Samantha said.

  “Our boys destroy clothing,” Sandy said from somewhere in the closet. “Plus, Noelle went through and took all the men’s shirts. She uses them when she paints. Are you having a boy?”

  “I’m not supposed to say,” Samantha said.

  “Here.” Sandy brought out a huge muumuu looking thing. “This should work. It’s one of Delphie’s old house dresses.”

  “This is huge!” Samantha held it up. “Delphie wore this? She’s not that big.”

  “When she was cleaning up the house,” Sandy said. “It’s actually really great. It has lots of pockets that hold stuff. You’ll like it.”

  Sandy helped Samantha put the dress over her clothing. Sandy grabbed a belt to tie up the dress.

  “Voila!” Sandy said. “I can assure you, Val or Delphie will want the dress when you’re done.”

  “Oh look,” Samantha said. “My purse fits right here.”

  “Exactly.” Sandy turned to leave the room.

  “Before you go . . .”

  Sandy turned back to Samantha.

  “I wanted to ask you . . .” Samantha’s eyes scanned Sandy’s face. “Is it hard for you that Charlie’s taking this big risk? I mean Sissy and the girls are too, but Charlie . . .”

  “It’s hard,” Sandy said. “Sometimes it’s hard to let them leave the house.”

  “That’s what I mean,” Samantha said. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way, but now . . .”

  She gestured to her baby and Sandy nodded.

  “I see a lot of parents clutch onto their kids,” Samantha said. “They have to eat this specific thing and do these after school programs. Everything is scheduled and structured and just so. Then I come over here and your kids . . .”

  “We’re kind of wild,” Sandy smiled.

  “Paddie loves it here,” Samantha said. “He’s one of those kids. Julie has him on a special diet for his allergies and he doesn’t cheat. That’s not what I mean . . .”

  “We have a lot of space,” Sandy said. “They can be kids and still do what’s best for them.”

  “You trust them,” Samantha said.