Say That Again

by Sasson, Gemini

  “Really?” Jenn sat up, the lines in her face softening. “Like who?”

  “Thomas Jefferson.”

  “Oh, no way. He was not. He was just freakishly brilliant.”

  “Mozart.” He’d been doing his research ever since the last child development specialist bantered about the Asperger’s label.

  “Now that one I can believe.”

  “My point is, we need to stop —”

  “You mean I need to stop.”

  The curtains snapped as the breeze from outside picked up. Clouds had crawled across the moon, shutting out its light, and there’d been a definite drop in temperature since they tried to go to sleep two hours ago. “Fine, you need to stop stressing about this. Just because she’s different doesn’t mean —”

  “Should I get her lined up for piano lessons? Or maybe violin? You can tote a violin around anywhere, but they sound so screechy when someone’s just starting out on one. What do you think?”

  “Ask her.”

  “Ask Hannah?”

  “Sure. She might not be interested in either. Have you ever seen her get enthralled with the classical radio station when we’re driving somewhere and you’re flipping through all the stations?” Hunter got out of bed and closed the window just as rain began to pelt the side of the house. “Try whatever you want, Jenn. But don’t push her. If she has some special ability ... if she does, it may take a while to come out. And it may not be what we expect or hope for.”

  Grabbing a shirt, Hunter headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  Lightning flickered through the window, followed by the low rumble of distant thunder. “Downstairs to read for a while. I don’t want to keep you up. Good night.”

  “Night, Hunter.” Jenn slid back under the sheets. For several moments they stared at each other, something unspoken hanging in the air.

  What Hunter didn’t say — would never say — was that Hannah needed to go off to school for them as much as for her. Ever since she was a year old and they’d had a hard time making eye contact with her, their lives had revolved around Hannah. Everything was always about Hannah. Just having Echo around had freed them of some responsibility for having to watch or entertain her every single moment.

  It wasn’t enough, though. Hunter was ready to let her go out into the world. It was Jenn who needed to let their little fledgling take wing.

  They couldn’t protect Hannah from the world forever. She needed to learn to deal with it on her own terms.

  —o00o—

  The limb lying across the fence was as big around as Hunter’s waist. He grabbed it, pushing up, while Brad put a shoulder into it from farther up. No matter how they leveraged it, no matter which way they pushed, it wasn’t budging.

  Last night’s storm had generated sixty-five mile per hour straight line winds that had peeled the roofs from several barns in Adair County, downed power lines, and toppled two semis on the interstate. The winds had left a swath of destruction from Elizabethtown to Knoxville. Fortunately, no one had been hurt, but their weather was all over the national news.

  It had kept Hunter up half the night. He’d gone outside at first light to discover a dozen shingles missing from the roof and their trash cans on the far side of the hayfield next to the house. He never did find the lid for one of them. Jenn and Maura headed off to Somerset where the storm damage had been negligent to stock up on groceries. Jenn was convinced if she wasn’t first at the store, they’d sell out of stock and the kids would go hungry.

  When Lise called an hour later, Hunter went right over to help clean up, Hannah and Echo riding gunshot, since they were all up early too anyway. Several old growth trees had come down in the storm — one across the driveway and two had taken down sections of fence — and he and Brad were trying to move what they could through sheer manpower. It quickly became clear, however, that they were going to need to get the chainsaws out and cut some logs.

  Brad put on his earphones and safety goggles, and pulled the starting cord on his chainsaw. Standing near the barn, Hannah clamped her hands over her ears and darted inside, where her Gramma Lise was. Echo trailed after her.

  Mere moments later, Lise ran out of the barn, waving her arms in the air as if trying to flag down an airplane. “Brad! Hunter!”

  Brad turned his chainsaw off and set it on the ground, then removed his earphones. “What is it?”

  “The sheep — they’re gone!”

  “How?”

  “The light pole fell and took out a section of stock panel. I didn’t even think to look in the small arena this morning to check the fence. There was just so much else going on.”

  “Any idea where they went?” Hunter said.

  “Judging by the tracks, they headed off to the creek. It was a cow pasture once, maybe thirty years ago, and pretty wide open, so we won’t have a hard time finding them. But half the fences were taken down at some point. Beyond that, it’s nothing but woods and wild hills.”

  “I’ll get the ATV,” Brad said. “Between the three of us, we can round them up.”

  “You’ll have a hard time of it down there,” Lise said. “The creek bed cuts pretty deep into the earth and takes a lot of bends. You’ll no sooner get around to the far side and they’ll disappear into a gulley and race off in the other direction. And if anything has spooked them, they could have already split in half a dozen different directions. There’s no telling what the situation is until we get over that line of hills and take a look.”

  Hunter glanced toward the barn. Hannah stood in the open doorway, Faustine dangling from one hand, Echo at her knee. “I wouldn’t count on three of us. Someone needs to watch Hannah. Rounding up a hundred sheep like that could take us hours.”

  Lise’s gaze drifted to Echo. “Times like this I wish Halo was still around.” She tilted her head, mulling the possibilities. “Hey, what if —?”

  “No,” Hunter levied. “Don’t even go there. Just because Echo’s an Australian Shepherd doesn’t mean he knows a sheep’s head from its butt. I’m afraid he didn’t get the herding instinct gene. Last time I brought him into a pen with sheep, he hid behind me, shaking. He’d probably just as soon eat their droppings as herd them. Hell, if he even got up the courage to approach them, he could very well chase them all the way to Lexington. Then not only will you have lost your entire flock, Mom, but Hannah will have lost her dog.”

  “So you’re saying ‘no’?”

  “Very perceptive of you.”

  “That’s a shame. He’s such a smart dog.”

  “I’d say we could call on the Listons with Spin, their Border Collie, to help,” Brad said, “but they’re in Illinois visiting their daughter. Is there any way you could call Jenn back home, Hunter? Maybe Maura could keep an eye on Hannah and with Jenn’s help we could get this job done in no time?”

  Hunter rubbed at his neck, lost for a solution. “I wish, but it’d take her a good hour to get here — and that’s if she answers her phone right away. Knowing Jenn, she probably has her phone turned off.”

  “Think you could try?” Lise said. “You can stay here with Hannah until Jenn gets back. Maybe Brad and I will be able to get something done? If nothing else, we can figure things out while we call around for more help. This just might take a village.”

  Satisfied they had a plan for now, Brad went off to the spare barn to gas up the ATV, while Lise made a few phone calls to neighbors on the other side of the valley and down the road. There had been no sightings, which was a bad sign.

  Sitting at the kitchen table with Hannah, who was arranging her carrot sticks in some kind of geometric pattern, a break from her usual neat rows, Hunter regretted not having exposed Echo to livestock more, but there really hadn’t been a need to. The last Aussie his mom had owned died a few years ago. Since then, she hadn’t even entertained the prospect of getting another dog. Brad was only months away from retirement and they wanted to travel while they were still young enough to get around. Havi
ng a dog would make that more difficult.

  Hannah slipped Echo a carrot underneath the table. He sniffed it, then took a nibble. Soon, he was crunching away and begging for more.

  “I saw that,” Hunter said.

  “Mommy says carrots are okay for dogs.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. But he hadn’t meant what he said as any kind of admonishment. He was merely teasing. Sometimes jokes were lost on Hannah.

  The rumble of the ATV sounded just outside, then stopped. Brad strode into the kitchen, pools of sweat already darkening his shirt under his arms. He tickled Hannah’s neck, but instead of giggling, she hunched up like a turtle pulling into its shell.

  A few moments later, Lise came in and pulled a couple of water bottles from the fridge. “Calvin Rowe isn’t answering his phone and the Minards are busy fixing their own fences.”

  “Gus said he could be over in an hour or two.” Brad took one of the bottles from her. “Looks like it’s just the two of us for now. Time for a roundup. Let’s go, cowpoke.”

  Hunter didn’t like not being able to help. Yet he couldn’t just park Hannah in front of the TV and trust that she was going to stay there. He’d left a message with Jenn, but so far she hadn’t answered. Knowing Hannah, she’d suddenly feel the need to wash her hands, then decide a bubble bath was a good idea and dump the whole box of Calgon into the tub while watching the bubbles overflow onto the floor. It had happened just last week. Thank goodness Jenn had walked in before Hannah stepped into a tub full of scalding water.

  As Brad and Lise started out the door, Hunter stood. “You know, I was thinking maybe I could ask our new neighbor, Heck, to keep an eye on Hannah so I can help you guys. I saw his car when we came over. I’m pretty sure he’s home.”

  Lise shrugged. “Sure. It’s worth a try, I suppose.”

  “You go ahead and see if you can locate the flock. I’ll walk Hannah over and ask. If she’s standing right there with me, it’ll be hard for him to say ‘no’.” Even so, given Heck’s cold reception of them last week, he wasn’t sure Heck would agree to watch Hannah. Or that it was a good idea, given that he didn’t know anything about the guy. But with Echo along to supervise, Hunter felt reassured.

  Echo nudged Hannah’s leg. A carrot dropped from her fingers onto the floor. He snarfed it down, then stretched out at her feet.

  No, that dog wouldn’t let anything happen to Hannah. Even if his life was at stake.

  —o00o—

  “Just remember, you need to keep an eye on Echo. Make sure he doesn’t get into anything, okay?” Hunter eyed his daughter sternly. Really, he’d said that to make sure Echo always had Hannah in his sight, not the other way around. When she didn’t acknowledge his question, he took her small jaw in his hand and turned her face so he could look into her eyes. “Okay, Hannah?”

  Shifting side to side, she nodded. They were only standing on Heck’s porch and already she was growing anxious.

  “What did I just tell you?” he prompted. He’d learned to have her repeat things to make sure she understood. Sometimes her mind was a million miles away.

  She twisted her face away. “Watch Echo.”

  “Good. Now let’s see if Mr. Menendez will let you watch TV here while Daddy helps Gramma and Grampa. I’ll come back in an hour and check on you.” Actually, he couldn’t promise if he’d be back in an hour, but Hannah wasn’t likely to notice the time. Besides, he wasn’t even sure if she could read a clock yet. He’d have to ask Jenn when she got home.

  Hunter knocked on the door. No one answered. He knocked again, waited. Hannah was rocking on her feet, swaying like a tree in the wind. Heck’s car was still in the driveway. And the TV was on. He checked his phone for texts, just in case he’d missed the little beep. Nothing.

  Stepping away from the door to peer in the picture window, he called his mom. “Any sign of them yet?”

  “Yeah, they’re exactly where I suspected. I don’t think any have wandered away from the group, but I won’t know until we get them back in the pens and accounted for.”

  “Any luck getting them headed back toward the house?”

  “Not yet. They’re light, Hunter. Practically wild. They’re spooked, too. It’s like they found themselves outside the fence and reverted to their ancestral roots. Trying to do this with two people is just impossible. And the ATV is only scaring them more, even though they’re used to seeing Brad ride it around the farm. You’d think a spaceship from Mars had landed in their midst.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can, Mom. I know Heck’s here, but he hasn’t answered the door yet.”

  “Maybe he’s indisposed, Hunter?”

  “Fat chance.” Hunter pressed his face to the glass. “I can see the bathroom from here. Door’s wide open. Pretty sure there isn’t a second one in this house.”

  “Give him a break. It’s not like he was expecting you. Besides, a lot of people don’t shut the bathroom door when they’re in the house alone. You’re going to feel pretty foolish when he comes out and sees you staring into his bathroom as he’s zipping up his fly.”

  She had a point. Hunter stepped back to the door and pounded on it with the heel of his fist. “Call you back as soon as I figure things out, okay?” He ended the call and slipped the phone in his pocket, muttering, “Who is this guy, anyway? Some sort of hermit? A famous screenwriter escaping Hollywood? Kind of rude to ignore a neighbor in need. Geesh, you’d think —”

  “I was in the garage.”

  Hunter wheeled around to see Heck standing on the other side of a crepe myrtle at the far end of the porch. He could smell the paint thinner from fifteen feet away.

  Wiping his hands on a rag, Heck came around to the steps. He had on a pair of overalls covered in dabs and smears of various paint colors. “Did you say you needed something?”

  For a moment, Hunter wanted to melt into the floorboards. Calling his neighbor a rude hermit was slightly more embarrassing than catching sight of him zipping up his pants while coming out of the can. “Sorry, Heck. I, uh, was getting a little flustered. My mom’s sheep got out after the storm. She could use some help —”

  “I don’t know the first thing about sheep.”

  A dry laugh escaped Hunter. “Uh, no. That’s not quite the favor I was going to ask.”

  Heck came up the steps slowly, looked down at Hannah, who was twisting side to side as she hugged Faustine. Echo surveyed him with a guarded expression, as if he hadn’t quite made up his mind about the man.

  “Don’t know much about kids, either. Or dogs.”

  “I hate to ask. I’m kind of in a bind here. The quicker I can get out there to help, the better. Otherwise she could lose the entire flock. You could just sit Hannah here down in front of the TV, maybe with some paper and a pencil. She doesn’t talk much. Well, usually she doesn’t talk to strangers at all. I mean, you’re a stranger to her, not me. But she —”

  “Excuse me,” — Heck turned his head partway, as if to hear better — “what did you say her name was?”

  “Hannah. Her name’s Hannah. It would only be for an hour, hopefully. Well, I can’t promise that, actually, but it would take that long at least for us to —”

  “The dog, too?”

  Was he saying he would? Or that the dog was a deal-breaker? “Yes, they’re kind of a two-for-one deal. Hannah doesn’t go anywhere without Echo.”

  “Even school?”

  “We’ll figure that out in about a week.” Hunter waited for him to say more, but Heck just stood there blank-faced, like he was waiting for them to get off his porch. “Look, sorry to bother you. I’ll just wait till my wife gets back, whenever that will be. Have a nice day.” He couldn’t help but let the sarcasm leak through on that last bit. This guy was about as warm as a freeze-pop. He took Hannah’s hand and started past Heck.

  “Is Sesame Street okay?”

  Hunter stopped. “Pardon?”

  Heck gestured toward the front door. “I don’t have a satellite dish and I can
only get four, sometimes five stations, but I think PBS is one of them. Figure they probably have a children’s program on this time of day. Although I’ve never really checked, so I don’t know for certain.”

  When the idea of first asking Heck to watch Hannah had popped into his head, Hunter had thought it a reasonable solution to a dire situation. But the more he talked to the man, the less sure he was. Jenn would probably skewer him for leaving Hannah with someone they had barely spoken to, especially after their initial encounter. Yet one look at the gaping hole in the fence from across the road here told him he didn’t have much choice. Still ...

  Hannah tugged at his hand. This was a bad time for her to have to use the bathroom.

  “Daddy?” she whispered.

  “Yeah, sweet pea?”

  “Echo says it’s okay.”

  He sank down on his haunches to meet her eye to eye. “What do you mean? Okay for what?”

  “For me to stay here. That Heck’s okay.”

  Reaching out, Hunter stroked the dog’s neck. “How would he know, sweet pea?”

  “He can see it.” She pointed to her eyes. “Here.”

  The fact that she had spoken in front of a stranger was enough to dumfound Hunter.

  “Dr. McHugh ...” Heck began. “Hunter, is it? I understand your reservations. I wasn’t particularly receptive to your visit the other day. The fact is that I moved out here for the peace and quiet. I was also very tired from packing and unpacking. I may not have a lot, but at sixty-seven, well, you don’t have as much energy as you used to. Or tolerance, for that matter. But I’m not one to turn away someone in need. She can stay until your wife comes home, or until you find your sheep. The dog, too. But don’t think this is a standing offer, understood?”

  Straightening, Hunter extended his hand for Heck to shake. “Okay, thanks.”

  Heck kept his hands at his sides. “I have a thing about germs. As soon as the kid and dog are gone, I’ll probably break out the bleach.” The corners of his mouth turned up in a weak smile.