After I finished my drawing, Peter presented me with a whipped cream topped mug. “I call this delectable creation Double-Decker Chocolate on a Cloud. I put whipped cream on the bottom, then added melted chocolate, then milk, cinnamon and nutmeg. I topped it off with more whipped cream.”
I took a sip. “Delicious!”
Vivian called from the kitchen. “Sadie, we should probably call your parents. It’s after seven o’ clock. If you want, you can eat here and then we’ll drive you home. We’re on our way to Compline tonight, so it wouldn’t be an extra trip.”
“What’s Compline?” I asked Peter.
Peter sat across from me and examined my drawings. “You would love Compline, Sadie. They turn off all the lights at the Catholic church and light the candles. The choir sings gorgeous Latin chants that make you feel like you’re swimming in music. I don’t go to any other kind of church.”
I thought about swimming in music as I sipped my hot chocolate and went to call Dad. He was clearly distracted by Higgins. Dad had always wanted a puppy too.
“Just don’t teach him any bad habits, Dad.”
“Nope. Absolutely not.”
Vivian handed me plates of macaroni and cheese to set on the kitchen table and passed out bowls of tomato soup.
Peter took his last sip of hot chocolate. “Like Dad always said, dessert should always come first.”
I put my empty mug in the sink and sat at the table. The soup steam warmed my nose. Every time I talked to Peter, I liked him more. Something sad had happened to his dad, but he didn’t avoid the subject, the way I would have. He hadn’t avoided telling me he was a hunter, either, or telling me what he thought about my opinions. Alive. The word floated to the front of my mind as I slurped a spoonful of soup. Maybe I could bring Peter as my example for my word study project. Was he so alive, so open, because he had grown up around Vivian? She was the kind of person who turned everything right side up again.
Vivian smiled across the table at me. “I haven’t told you about my husband, Sadie, and you’ve been too polite to ask. He died two years ago. He’d been working on our roof, and he fell.”
I opened my mouth but didn’t know what to say.
“It’s okay, Sadie.” Peter put down his fork. “There’s nothing to say, really. I used to wonder what would’ve happened if I had been home helping him repair the leak? But then one day, I realized all that wondering was smothering me, and smothering Mom too. So I stopped wondering. I think that’s when I started letting go.”
Vivian motioned to my food. “Eat. Or it will get cold.”
The mac and cheese was stringy with cheese and topped with crunchy breadcrumbs, delicious, but hard to swallow. Even though Peter had said there was nothing to say, silence didn’t seem right either. A question burst out before I could stop it. “Can I come to Compline with you tonight?”
Vivian looked up from her dinner. “You want to go?”
“I think so. No, yes. I mean, yes, I would like to go.”
Peter cleared the table. “You’ll love it, Sadie.”
I called home again, and Dad gave me permission to go downtown with Vivian and Peter. In the truck, Vivian turned on jazz, and we all sat quietly, listening and thinking. As we climbed up the cathedral steps, a sign requested silence as we entered. Stained glass windows lined the building, their colors intense in the candlelight. It was strange, slipping into a church pew in the dark, not greeting anyone. The air was thick with the smell of wax and incense.
Quietly, mysteriously, a song started from the back of the church. Men’s voices filled the rafters with words I didn’t understand, but which seemed as old, and felt as soothing, as my evening prayer. I leaned back and closed my eyes, letting the harmony wrap around me. I’d thought I’d come to Compline for Vivian, but now, after hearing the music, I wondered if I might come again on my own. When I opened my eyes again, I noticed Vivian sat perfectly straight with her eyes closed, as though the music lifted her up out of her seat. Above us finely detailed paintings filled the ceiling, images of robed people and lions and angels. Their eyes drew my attention. Whoever had painted the church understood how to give eyes the spark of life — people shouting in victory, crying in anguish, dancing with joy.
As the final chord faded, the room grew even more silent, even more still. No one had shuffled or coughed during the singing, and now everyone in the room held their breath, as if collectively holding on to one last moment of pure joy. The choir broke the silence when they filed out. I followed Vivian, not wanting to talk, not wanting to lose the lingering echo of the music.
Chapter 19
Living and Breathing
I crossed out another day on my calendar. September 29. Twenty-seven more days of hunting season. Please make it, Patch, I thought. Please hide. Go hibernate. Do something. Whatever will keep you away from Jim.
Dad honked. I grabbed my backpack and hurried downstairs. The tires screeched as Dad pulled out.
“What’s the hurry?”
A gunshot echoed and Dad set his jaw. “I have to get to the DNR to prep with Meredith for the meeting tomorrow.”
“How can you stand it?” I asked. “Any shot could be Jim shooting Patch.”
“Sades, we’ve talked about this. I can’t take sides.”
“You’re more on Helen’s side than on Jim’s side,” I said.
“That’s what everyone thinks, and maybe it’s true. I’m supposed to be an unbiased mediator, but instead I’ve become part of the problem.”
He merged onto the main road into town. Another shot echoed outside the Jeep. I stared out the window. Dad was part of the problem, making Mom so upset she completely collapsed, trying to be like the hunters with his shotgun and hunting license and then swinging all the way to the other side, getting into fistfights with them. Probably they would purposely search for Patch, even more now, just to get back at Dad. Why, when I needed Dad more than ever, did he have to completely fail me?
When we pulled up to the curb at school, Dad asked, “Sades, are you all right?”
I threw open my door without answering. What could I say? Everything around me is falling apart, and he’s mostly to blame? I avoided everyone’s eyes and went to the bathroom to avoid talking to anyone before class. Just before the final bell rang, I slipped into the classroom. Ruth sat at her desk, so she must be feeling better.
“Good morning,” Ms. Barton said. “It’s a big day. Frankie is presenting the first of our word study reports.”
Frankie wrote NAIVE in big, bold letters on the whiteboard.
“The word naïve,” Frankie said, looking directly at me, “describes innocent, idealistic, unrealistic people. If you’re naïve, you don’t understand how life works. For my presentation, I’ve written a short play.”
Ty and Nicole joined Frankie. Nicole tied a scarf around her head, pioneer style, turned her back, took a deep theatrical breath, and then spun around, hands clasped. “Oh, Ty, I just have to report them.”
“Report who?” Ty sounded only slightly more animated than wood.
“You know,” Nicole said. “Those bad kids, the ones who played with fire. I mean, that’s dangerous.” Here she batted her eyelashes.
“How do you know they are bad kids?” Ty dug his toe into the carpet.
“Bad kids are bad kids.”
“That’s naïve, Nicole.”
“I’m not naive?” Nicole said. Again with the eyelashes. “I’m from Cal-i-forn-i-a.”
Ruth winced in my direction as the class burst into laughter and Ms. Barton said, “All right, that’s enough. Frankie, I’ll speak with you at lunch. Now all of you, sit down.”
We spent the rest of the morning completing math proofs while Ms. Barton watched us, looking as though she’d swallowed an angry cat. Her knuckles were white and her eyes flashed, and no one dared to raise a hand, even though most of us had no idea how to complete the math. I finally gave up and took out my sketchbook.
I drew Ms. Barton’s eyes
first, focusing on the tense lines around the corners. I couldn’t see Ruth’s eyes, so I moved on to the eyes I most wanted to draw: Frankie’s. But my squinty drawings weren’t satisfying. Draw what is there, not what you expect, Vivian’s voice whispered in my ear.
I kept looking over my shoulder to catch Frankie’s eyes.
“What are you looking at?” she hissed at me.
I decided I should move on to math. I slid my sketchbook back into my desk and had just begun to stare at my first proof when the bell rang for lunch.
Since Frankie and her friends were stuck upstairs with Ms. Barton, Ruth and I found a quiet corner in the cafeteria where we could talk. After dreading this conversation for so long, the built-up doom was thick and heavy.
Ruth played with her napkin, ripping little pieces off the corner, and then started to talk. “When Tess and Nicole walked past us in the hall, all of it came back from my first year here. I didn’t know what to say, and I ended up saying the very worst thing.”
I doodled on the edge of my lunch bag. “All of what?”
“Last year, when Tess found out I was a pastor’s kid, she made me her personal challenge. She, Nicole, and Frankie used to invite me over to their houses, where they caked my face with make-up and tried to make me swear. You’d think I would have stopped going, but for the first time in my life, the popular kids had noticed me. Honestly, I didn’t care how they treated me.” She wadded up her napkin in her fist.
“Ruth —” I put my pencil down.
“Let’s just say, when I stopped happily participating in their makeovers, I was deemed unworthy and quickly unfriended. When you came, and we started hanging out, I promised myself I wouldn’t let Frankie, Tess, and Nicole ruin our friendship. And then … I’m so sorry, Sadie.”
I couldn’t stand dragging this out any longer. “Did you tell on the boys, Ruth?”
“Sadie, they always get away with everything. And this time …” She unwadded the napkin and smoothed it on the table. “While I waited outside the office for you to call your mom, I overheard Mr. Tyree say that Frankie had reported that Cameron and his bandmates had started the fire. I couldn’t let her do that. I just blurted it all out, about the lighters and the boys missing the meeting. I was afraid if I told you, you’d be mad.” She looked at me, her eyes watery. “And now …”
I couldn’t keep looking at her. My nose burned, and I was afraid if I started crying, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I took a deep breath and poked my lunch bag with my pencil.
“Sadie, please forgive me,” Ruth said, her voice quivery.
I pinched my finger and thumb against my nose, where tears threatened. I didn’t know how to put this stabbing feeling into words. When I had first met Ruth, I thought someday we could finish one another’s sentences, the way Pippa and I did. Now, Pips felt so far away, even though we emailed almost every night. And Ruth didn’t trust me, and I couldn’t trust her, so how would our friendship ever work?
With my eyes squeezed shut, Peter’s words, unbidden, drifted into my mind. People should try to see both sides, come to the middle a little more. Even if Ruth would never be like Pippa, I still had to try to see Ruth’s side.
I looked up at Ruth. “I will try, Ruth. I promise to try.”
Dad waited with Higgins in the parking lot after school. “How was your day?”
I climbed in and Higgins promptly licked my face and thumped his tail on my lap. I scratched his ears, avoiding Dad’s eyes.
“It was fine,” I lied. “How was yours?”
Dad didn’t turn on the Jeep. “Sadie, I’m worried about you. When Mom gets sick, we focus on her so much, but I know this has been a hard transition for you too.”
I waited out his intense gaze. “Okay, Sades, you’re just as stubborn as I am. But please, if there’s anything I can do, tell me. I’m here for you. I hope you know that.”
I blinked tears away. Dad wasn’t there for me. Not the way he used to be.
“I have good news.” Dad turned on the car, and his voice switched to his normal cheer. “Big Murphy settled into his den today.”
I didn’t want to respond, afraid if I said anything it wouldn’t be real.
“Sades, it was so incredible. He dug a hole into the side of a small hill, right underneath a rock, and he’s almost closed himself in with dirt and rocks.”
“I wish Patch would do the same.”
“Patch will wait a little longer. She has to make sure her cubs have eaten enough. All four of them will den together.”
Dad turned onto Main Street. “Chinese or pizza?”
“Pizza. And breadsticks.”
Higgins thumped his tail, and I clipped his leash onto his collar. “Not for you! For you, a treat from the pet store. If you behave.”
I lifted Higgins out of the Jeep and let him pull me down the sidewalk, his little body bouncing back and forth just like my thoughts.
Chapter 20
Silence
Since Mom didn’t feel well enough for the meeting on Tuesday night, Ruth’s dad drove Ruth and me, and Higgins, who refused to be left behind, to the ranger station. On the way, Ruth’s dad told us about Mark and Hannah’s disaster of the day — spilling a full bottle of baby powder on the floor and then blowing it all over the bathroom when they tried to dust bust it up. With Ruth beside me, studying my face every now and then, looking for signs of anger, and Andrew, waiting for me at the meeting, hoping I would report Jim, I appreciated the laughter, even though my stomach muscles ached by the time Ruth’s dad pulled into the DNR parking lot.
I held tight to Higgins as we entered the crowd that spilled out the doorway. The building was warm but still the room felt icy. People stood in tense groups, watching the door suspiciously. Meredith bustled around the refreshment table, straightening cups and napkins. She raised an eyebrow at Higgins but didn’t say anything. Vivian and Peter waved us over to their seats, so Ruth and I left her dad with a church member and wound through the crowd.
“Sit, Higgins,” I said, holding tight to his leash as I set him down on the floor.
Higgins sat politely while I introduced him, but jumped up as soon as Peter stopped scratching his ears. Peter laughed and passed Higgins back to me.
“Ruth, you’ve met Vivian, and this is her son, Peter.”
Ruth shook both their hands. “Sadie can’t stop talking about art lessons.”
“Nice dog, Zitzie,” Frankie said as she brushed past with Ty, Mack, and her dad.
“Zitzie?” asked another familiar voice. Andrew’s voice. “Someone’s begging for her own spectacular nickname.” Andrew smiled at Ruth and knelt down to scratch Higgins’ chin. “Hey Ruth. I hear you named the puppy.”
“Yeah, Higgins. It was Cameron’s idea. From the youth group,” I said, nudging Ruth. “In fact, I think I see Cameron over there with his parents.”
Ruth nudged me back. “Small world.”
Andrew rose and held his hand out to Vivian. “I’m Andrew, by the way.”
“I’m Vivian, Sadie’s art teacher.” She shook his hand. “This is my son, Peter.”
As Ruth chatted with Vivian and Peter, my attention shifted to the front of the room, where Dad rearranged his papers on the podium.
“Where’s your mom?” I asked Andrew.
He nodded toward the back doors. “She’s standing back there, in case she needs to escape quickly. We hope to avoid a repeat performance of last time.”
People settled into seats, and Ruth, Andrew, and I took seats next to Peter and Vivian. Ruth looked over at her dad, who was now surrounded by a small crowd.
“That’s the mission team.” Ruth grinned at her dad who shrugged and ushered his little flock out the doors onto the front steps. “They’re planning a new mission project. He’ll be stuck for hours.”
For once, Higgins was on his best behavior. He curled up at my feet, sighed, and put his head on his paws.
“So, you going to do it tonight?” Andrew whispered.
“
Maybe Dad will.”
Andrew opened his mouth, but before he could launch into a lecture, Dad began. “Thank you for coming out on a dark, cold night. As you know, in our past meeting we discussed scientific data about the Owl Creek black bear population. Tonight we’ll hear your thoughts and opinions. Each speaker will have the floor, without interruption, for two minutes. When all speakers have finished, I’ll lead a short discussion. We’ll take all opinions expressed and work up three plans on which you may vote at our next meeting.”
“Who will make these plans?” Jim Paulson called.
Meredith stood. “The three plans will summarize the points of view expressed tonight. The plans will address your varied concerns and will be fair.”
Jim snorted and whispered to Mack in a voice loud enough for the whole room to hear, “Fair? We pay extra taxes to bring in a so-called expert. Instead of getting rid of the bear problem, we get a tree-hugging bear lover who makes everything worse.”
Ruth grumbled in her seat next to me, “Who’s making everything worse?”
Conversations spread across the crowd and the volume continued to rise. Dad leaned in to the microphone.
“You’ll all have your chance to speak. Jim, would you like the floor?”
Jim gave Dad a tight-lipped smirk, and walked up to the podium. “I believe in keeping our community safe. I’ve hunted and killed three bears that terrorized Owl Creek, and I intend to continue. Bears belong in the wilderness outside our town limits. As soon as a bear gets too comfortable here, I say we shoot it. Get them out of our way. No reason to put up with the danger or the peskiness. That’s what I think.”
Patch. The cubs. I closed my eyes and pictured them in the woods, at the cabin, far from here. Go hibernate, Patch. You’re not safe.
Dad’s face remained expressionless as Jim sat down. How did Dad do that? How, and why for that matter, didn’t he simply tell everyone what he knew about Jim?
Instead he asked, “Would anyone else like to share an opinion?”
Shades of Truth Page 9