Once Upon Now
Page 15
“Fine,” I relent. Give me a lemonade. Actually, make it two.”
Just then my best friend, Poppy, comes running in. She’s breathless as she interrupts without as much as a hello. “Guess who was standing next to River during the ceremony?”
“I didn’t get a chance to look.” I tuck the bra strap back under her tank sleeve. “Who?”
“Lulu Smith.” She grimaces while drawing out the name.
“Shut the front door!” Lulu is now my cousin through Johnny, and the fact that she was trying to cozy up to the guy my best friend has been eyeing for months irritates me as much as it does Poppy. But my dad has always been against swearing, so I’ve learned to improvise.
Poppy’s wringing her hands and pacing. “How do they know each other?”
“Beats me. I sure as heck didn’t introduce them. Here, I ordered you this.” I hand over the lemonade to try to calm her.
“Well, I’m going to find out.” She downs the drink. “Thanks. I’ll be back,” she mutters, and before I can stop her, she heads into the crowd that’s started trickling in.
I’ve known this girl since preschool, but for years I thought she was the biggest snob. Everyone always wanted to be friends with her and for the same reason, I didn’t. While I busted my butt on the basketball court, she was cheering on the sidelines, effortlessly charming the crowd. Even in school, she’d get anything she wanted without seemingly doing any work. She was voted freshman class president after a short inspirational speech about how everyone should just get along, and she came in first place in the regional spelling bee with the word “inconsequential.” I mean, really. Who doesn’t know how to spell “inconsequential”?
Well, it turns out I didn’t, because I came in second. I was so jittery from being in the final two with Poppy that I totally fumbled. But that’s how we actually became friends. She was so nice to me afterward, giving me a sincere apology for taking away a victory she felt I deserved, and we ended up talking. And it turns out she’s a really awesome person.
Of course she did just totally ditch me, so I’m probably going to rethink that soon. Now I have no idea how I’m going to pass the time until dinner starts. This is supposed to be the cocktail hour, and everyone’s just standing around nursing their glasses and picking at the finger food while making chitchat with people they’d otherwise never talk to.
To avoid anyone coming up to me, I start wandering between the tables. Then inspiration hits me.
It took Mom weeks to come up with the seating plan for dinner, and we’ve been arguing about it ever since. Not only did she split up all of my siblings, but she also didn’t seat me next to any of my friends. Her logic was that we should all be spread out among the other guests to represent the family at each table, but screw that. I’m going to do a little rearranging and make sure I have a good time.
I pick up a card with Poppy’s name written in fancy script on it when my youngest brother, Cody, taps me on the shoulder. “Whatcha up to, sis?”
“Ssh. Help me find your brothers’ settings,” I whisper. “I’m going to move all of us to a table in the back.”
“Hm. I didn’t think you had it in you,” he teases.
I swat him on the shoulder. “Shut up and grab that one! I think it’s Sam’s.”
He laughs and picks up the card. We move from one table to the next, working quickly to avoid suspicion. We’re only missing Bryce’s name when I come across an unexpected sign.
“Crapberries! I totally forgot about Dad.” I realize, seeing his name card on this table.
“Didn’t you hear? His rig broke down outside of Juneau yesterday, and he didn’t make it back in time for the wedding.”
“That sucks.” I was looking forward to seeing him. He’s been gone for two weeks now, and as a long-haul trucker, he’d probably have just a few days again before he’s back on the road. Well, at least it’s one less name to shift to our table.
“Here, put these in the empty spots, will you?” I ask my brother, but he has other ideas.
He laughs. “Do I look like event management to you? Besides, I already lost deniability with Mom if she ever asks who moved us, so you go finish your own dirty work. I think I just saw Lane with a chick I don’t recognize. Excuse me.”
Great. People are starting to look for their places, and I still have eight cards in my hand. I scuttle back around the hall, dropping random cards wherever I see an empty place. I finish just as the bride and groom are announced.
Slipping into my seat, I pretend nothing is amiss, but I do feel a bit guilty thinking that Mom has likely noticed the changes. Luckily, I have my brothers to distract me.
As usual, eating with them is like watching human vacuums. As soon as the first course is served, they begin literally sucking down the food. It’s both gross and fascinating at the same time. Somehow they also manage to keep the conversation going. One of them is always speaking, whether retelling a story from years ago I’ve heard a dozen times or filling us in on what happened just last week.
“Her family’s vacationing in Kluane, and they stopped at the Junction for gas. We got to talking and when I mentioned the wedding, I guess she sort of invited herself,” Lane says, explaining the story of how he met his date.
“What was her name again?” I ask, sneaking a glance at the cute blonde absentmindedly twirling her spoon between her fingers two tables away.
He takes a mouthful of the bison steak. “Laura.”
“I thought you just said it was Sarah,” Clay corrects him.
“Eh. Close enough.” He shrugs amid a chorus of laughter.
If there were such a thing as Otter Falls’ most eligible bachelor, my brothers would win it in a six-way tie. In any other place, they would have been all snatched up by now. Clayton’s almost thirty, while Cody and Lane just turned eighteen. Roland, Bryce, and Sam fall pretty much evenly in between. They all work on the local oil field; the twins are spending the summer as greenhorns before starting college in Anchorage. None of them want to permanently leave Otter Falls, which is exactly the opposite of what girls seem to be doing. Girls don’t look back once they’ve made it out of here, leaving great guys single. At least until an unsuspecting tourist drives through town.
We get through dinner and the toasts with much of the same when Poppy—who’d been conspicuously absent since the first dance—grabs me from behind and grumbles in my ear. “River’s taking Lulu up to the Falls, and there’s no way I’m letting them go alone.”
THE FOUR OF US pile into River’s beat-up Bronco and head out to the little basin just outside of town. There’s a bunch of fishing stuff on the backseat between me and Poppy, but we still get a first-rate view of my new cousin’s lame attempt to get the boy to notice her.
Although many people in this part of the country can claim some sort of Scandinavian ancestry, this guy seems to have gotten every recessive gene his parents had to offer. His platinum-blond hair and blue eyes make him a total anomaly, and he could get any girl he wants. River is cool, though, and he’s never made a big deal out of it, which makes Lulu even more eager.
She’s been yapping for the last five minutes about some new video game she knows he likes, even though he’s only contributed a few “uh-huh”s and a lackluster “I guess.”
I can’t take it anymore, so I attempt a distraction to shut her up. “Ooh, I love this song! Can you guys turn up the radio?”
The next time Lulu has a chance to speak is when we arrive at Otter Falls. “This place is pretty cool. Do ya’ll do any swimming up here?” She slams the door in my face, forcing me to get out on the other side.
“Naw, it’s too rocky and shallow for that,” River answers, unexpectedly offering his hand to me when I climb out from behind the driver’s seat.
The warning comes too late because she’s already kicked off her sparkly flats and is sticking her foot into the water. “It’s damn cold too!” Lulu exclaims, turning around. Her eyes widen as she sees us touching, and I pull my
hand away.
Unfazed, River grins. “Perfect for troutin’.”
“So, you’re a fisherman?” Lulu puts her shoes back on and idles up to him. Behind me, I can almost hear Poppy seething with rage, and I can’t blame her. This girl is just too much.
“Yeah, I fish and hunt.” He sticks his hands in his pockets and proudly pulls himself up to his full height, which must be six feet by now. “I’m pretty sure I’ve killed almost every kind of animal up around these parts.”
“You got a bear too?” She pokes him in the chest. “How about a lynx?”
He blushes, and it’s the cutest thing ever. “Well, that’s why I said almost every kind.”
Poppy butts in to counter her competition. “Don’t forget, you said you’d teach me how to shoot the new rifle Daddy got me.”
“Oh yeah? What do you got?” Lulu gets all sassy, doing this weird neck-twist thing and making her raven-black hair fly around her shoulders.
Poppy purses her lips, and I have to hold in a giggle at her earnestness. “A Winchester.”
Lulu laughs. “I’ve been shooting those since I was ten.”
My friend steps closer and puts her hands on her hips. “Well, I’ve been cheerleading since I was nine, and I won the regional spelling bee twice!”
I swear it’s like watching two young caribou bucks fighting over a doe, just with the genders reversed. I think River has also had enough, because instead of joining in or even stopping their squabble, he ignores them and walks over to me.
That’s when I notice there’s something new about him. “I like the bling.” I point at the silver ring on his bottom lip.
“Oh, thanks.” He touches it like he’d forgotten it was even there. “I got it last week. Hurt like a bitch, though.”
Before I can respond, Poppy runs over. “I could make it better.”
I can’t believe she just said that! How desperate can that girl act?
Lucky for her, River is either too daft to get her insinuation or he doesn’t care. Actually, I think it’s both, because he reaches into the bag he’s been holding, pulls out a couple of bottles, and tosses me one.
“Where did you get these?” I recognize the label.
He rubs his thumb and index finger together. “I slipped Billy a twenty.”
“That son of a donkey’s uncle! He didn’t care about me being underage, just about a payday!” I furiously unscrew the cap and take a long swig. “Blech. Did he have these sitting in the sun all day?”
“I don’t mind if it’s warm.” Lulu grabs the bottle from me.
River isn’t as cavalier, and apparently takes the temperature of his beverages seriously. After heading to the water with the remaining three beers, he sticks them between a cluster of rocks near the bottom of the waterfall.
“Nature’s refrigerator,” he says proudly, as if he’s the first one to use the trick.
I roll my eyes and begin to turn away when a large white bird catches my attention. It’s a great egret, pretty common for these parts. She’s circling overhead, probably looking for a place to roost until morning. Night comes pretty late around here in the summer. It’s past eleven now, and the sun is just now beginning to set. We’ll have a few hours of darkness and then it’ll be daylight again soon. The winter’s just the opposite, which is why I hate it so much. Well, that and the bitter cold.
The bird finally lands at the top of the tallest waterfall, perching on a dead branch sticking up from the water. With her sleek black beak and yellow feet, she’s incredibly beautiful. No wonder our people consider her a symbol of grace and patience. They’re good luck too and if we were about to go on a hunt, this would be a really good sign.
I suddenly realize how quiet it is. No arguing or boasting. Not even the wind is making any noise. We’re all so focused on the animal, we’ve forgotten about everything else.
“Man, that’s a clean shot.” Lulu breaks the silence from right next to me. “I wish I had my rifle here.”
I don’t know what comes over me, but I sure as heck don’t give it a second thought.
Putting my hands against the girl’s shoulders, I shove her backward into the water.
THE NEXT MORNING, Mom sends me out to the nearest oil field. It’s not my punishment for last night; that grounding starts as soon as I get home. No, I would’ve had to make this trip regardless.
Although it’s Sunday, the rigs still run. They actually never stop unless they’re broken, and that’s why crews operate around the clock. Every idle hour on the pipeline is lost money for the community, and it’s up to guys like my brothers to make sure the black gold never stops flowing.
They all took today’s shift so they could have yesterday off for the wedding. So it’s my job to bring them leftovers for lunch.
I’m not old enough to have a license, but out in the bush, I can get away with driving my quad bike. It’s all back roads anyway, with only the occasional hiker or moose sharing the road. Mom’s most worried about me running into a grizzly, but I’ve only seen one during the year since I’ve started coming out here by myself.
After a ten-minute ride, I’m almost at the path that leads straight to rig forty-nine when a deafening boom makes the whole ground shake. Stopping the bike in the middle of the road, I look at the previously cloudless sky just as it’s lit up by a huge, orange fireball. For a few seconds, I can’t move and stand dumbfounded as ash begins to fall around me. In an instant, day has been transformed to night with thick, black smoke filling the air.
A fit of coughing brings me back to the present. “No, no, no, no,” I mumble, getting my quad moving again. This can’t be happening. There’s no way that explosion came from the rig. It has to be something else. Because if it was . . .
I shake my head, trying to get the increasingly bad thoughts out of my brain. There has to be a simple explanation, and everything is going to turn out fine.
There’s only a few hundred feet to go, but the closer I get to the chain-link fence surrounding the compound, the more scared I become. My hands tremble on the grips as I ride through the open gate, the smoke continuing to burn my throat and sting my eyes. I stop in front of one of the administrative trailers and cut the engine, struck by how deserted everything is. It’s then in the otherwise-eerie silence I hear the unmistakable sound of a rig on fire.
The steady whoosh of the oil bursting uncontrollably through a damaged pipe that’s been set aflame is a sound everyone around here knows, and never wants to hear. It’s the sign something has gone terribly wrong and, more often than not, is about to get even worse.
I’m quivering like a gosh-darned leaf now, and while my mind says I have to keep going, my legs are rooted to the ground. It’s only a few steps around the trailer and another hundred feet back to the rig, but this is as far as I’ve ever been allowed. As if on cue, Monk Lewis bursts out of the building, yelling into a satellite phone as he runs past me. He’s Poppy’s uncle, and I don’t even know if Monk’s his given name or if it’s just something people have always called him. It would be pretty ironic if his mother named him that, since he’s already on his fourth wife, but right now, that’s neither here nor there. I also can’t tell who’s on the other end of the conversation, but he’s cursing more than anything else. Still, I’m happy to see a familiar face because it means my brothers must also be somewhere nearby, so I follow the pudgy little man in the hard hat.
“Bryce! Clay! Sam!” I shout, but as soon as I step out from behind the trailer, the heat hits me. It’s like opening the oven door when you’re baking cookies, but multiplied by a thousand. The chimney of black smoke that’s probably visible now for miles stretches above me like a huge funnel, but the orange and red flames at its base make it even more terrifying. There are two men using a hose attached to a tanker truck, dousing the surrounding area with water, and the mist combines with the oil to fall from the sky like rain. My hair’s already full of burnt pieces of goodness-knows-what, but the closer I get, the heavier the spray of st
icky substance is on my skin.
“Lane! Roland! Cody!” I continue my frantic calls, still not seeing my brothers among the preciously few faces. My shoes slip on the slick surface, and I land on my butt in the mud. Wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands, I twist my neck around, but apart from the three men I’ve already seen, the field is empty.
“Clay! Roland! Bryce!” I scream at the top of my lungs, starting to fear the worst. A bitter taste coats my tongue, but I push myself up and run to the other side of the field.
“Sam! Cody! Lane!” I shout above the fire as it slowly melts and mangles the rig in front of me.
In the distance, I see flashing red lights approach before two hands wrap around my upper arms, pulling me away from the flames. I’m still screaming, but all I can hear is the deafening whoosh. Blinking to clear my eyes of the gunk, I catch a glimpse of something I know can’t be real.
In the fire, a shape emerges. It’s only a dark silhouette, but against the bright yellow, I swear it has arms and legs. When it begins to float upward, I become less certain. Then suddenly hands thrust to the side and as the wide arms flap up and down, the shadow flies into the cloud of smoke. I realize I’m screaming in terror until another similar shape follows the first. I’ve now lost the ability to control my breathing, and I gasp while watching a third, fourth, fifth, and finally sixth dark form impossibly fly through the flames.
My mind is spinning and my body is light, making me feel like I’m between earth and sky. Knowing there’s only one way to stop my fall, I black out before impact.
When I open my eyes again, I’m lying in the back of an open ambulance with a clear view of the burning rig. Mom and Johnny are standing on the ground past my feet; she’s on her cell, and he’s arguing with Monk about the blowout. It must have taken them at least ten minutes to get here, so I’ve been out for a while. I try to sit up, but the tube attached to the oxygen mask covering my nose and mouth pulls me back.