WISHBONE II: ...Some Wishes Should Never Be Made

by Brooklyn Hudson

  Not even me.

  Creaking sounded from the hallway and Rachael appeared at the bedroom door. Julien, caught off guard, waited for her to say something, but she only stood there. The bird fluttered back up to the widow’s walk.

  “Where is Jessica?” he asked, tapping his ashes in his palm then getting up to toss them into the dark fireplace. He took a candle holder from the mantle to use as an ashtray and returned to the bed.

  Rachael stepped further into the room.

  “Well? Where is she?” he demanded. “Do you even care?”

  Rachael looked back at the hallway, sheepishly, “Umm, I don’t know. Arlette… she was with Arlette in the kitchen.”

  “Oh, this is nice. Spend the afternoon with Grandma,” he huffed sarcastically.

  “She’s working with her. Teaching her how to control it.”

  Julien laughed, “Ah, very good. And you? You are okay with this?”

  Rachael looked down, refusing to make eye contact.

  “What do we do?” he asked. “I was just groped by dear Sarah in the barn,” he laughed.

  Unbelievable!

  Rachael finally looked up at him.

  “Oh yes! I am the very lucky recipient of her first kiss.” He tapped his cigarette over the candle holder and rambled, “Well, I think it is her first. Maybe not… she was pretty good at it.”

  Rachael grimaced.

  “Please…what do you care? You have wanted me gone for a long time now. Every time I come to visit with you at Fair Oaks…ah…whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore.” He fixed the pillows behind him and sat back against the headboard.

  Rachael didn’t respond.

  “I am out of ideas, Rache. We have a child down there who is dependent on us to protect her…”

  Rachael shook her head, “Stop, Julien…just stop.”

  “Stop what? Stop protecting our daughter?”

  “Yes! Stop fighting.”

  He sat forward, “Are you kidding me? What the hell is wrong with you, Rachael? Do we just stay… just do what she says and loose Jessica to this insanity?”

  That is what you thought last night.

  No!

  Rachael clenched her fists in the air, “Yes! Yes, that is exactly what we do. We give in. We stop fighting. We let them have her back and accept that there is no way out of this. Give up and give in, Julien.”

  That is exactly what you said last night.

  Julien stubbed out his cigarette then tore open the drawer again and removed the last cigarette. He lit it then crumpled the pack and threw it past Rachael into the fireplace.

  Rachael flinched as Julien jumped up from the bed. He scoffed at her fearful reaction and moved to the window. He stared out into the apple orchard at the rows of trees peppering acres of virgin snow. His temples throbbed and it was all he could do to stop himself from punching through the glass.

  Rachael spoke softly, “She was never ours, Julien. You were right. I should have listened to you then.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The coop was a flurry of activity; Rachael and Sarah meticulously tending to the chickens. Jessica stood beside Sarah, watching her fill the feeders. She reached over and scooped up a palm full of cracked corn then tossed it to the newly raked ground. Chickens swarmed and began to peck and scratch at the spill. Sarah reached out and whacked Jessica’s hand then gave her coat hood a strong yank sending her tripping to the side in the opposite direction, forcing her away.

  Jessica looked up at Sarah, devastated. The smack left a red, burning print on the back of her hand and she held it up to her lips, blowing on it. She refused to cry, squinting her eyes tight; her feelings hurt more than her hand. She turned away and kicked at the dirt. Rachael, a rake in her grasp, sneered at her impatiently.

  “Why don’t you go find something else to do?” Rachael snapped, “You’re not helping.”

  Jessica, bored and feeling sorry for herself, exited the coop, quietly closing the door behind her. She walked through the barn searching for something; anything to hold her attention, but she had seen it all and there was nothing left of interest to her. She turned in circles looking up at the light seeping through cracks in the barn walls, high above. She stopped and her eyes landed on the top of the ladder. She stood in the center of the barn, rising up on her tippy toes and trying with all her might to see above the loft floor. Just the very top of a computer monitor fit into her view and she jumped up as high as she could, several times to be sure. Memories of playing games on the school library computers and on the tablet her father had given her as a birthday gift, brought a smile to her face. She looked back at the coop door then moved cautiously to the ladder. She touched the smooth wood of an eye level rung. It felt good with her fingers and she twisted her grip around it tight. She looked down and placed a foot on the bottom rung then lifted her weight into the air. She thought of the ladder leading up to the big slide at the park, where she and her father spent their Sunday mornings before going to a small café for her favorite chocolate croissants. Sometimes he would allow her a splash of coffee in her hot, frothy milk and her favorite barista would add a dash of cinnamon and sneak her a spoon or two of sugar. He would wink at her and she would know he had made it special, just for her, then hurry to drink it, all so she could get to the thick syrupy goo left at the bottom of the cup. She loved to scoop it out and lick at the spoon when her father wasn’t looking. It had only been she and her father then, yet now, in a house full of people, she felt lonely. She missed her home in the city and she missed her friends at school. Mostly, she missed seeing her father smile. She missed hearing him laugh at her silly faces and sneaky tricks. It had been several weeks now; though, to Jessica, it felt like an eternity, and she wondered if they were ever going home again.

  Jessica reached for the next rung then looked down again, finding her footing. She rose a little higher then repeated the process one more time when something grabbed her about the waist, removing her from the wood and whipping her through the air and back to the ground.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Lind crouched down before her, “That ladder is too dangerous for a little one like you. Why aren’t you with Sarah or your father?”

  Jessica looked down at her hand, no longer red, but she thought she could still feel the sting of Sarah’s slap.

  “Yeah, well…no ladder, okay? Promise me,” Lind held up a curled pinky finger then took her tiny hand and hooked their fingers together. “There…pinky swear. No ladder.” He said sternly and stood up. He gave her a pat on her head, “Go find something to do.”

  Lind looked around and located the tool he needed hanging on the far wall. He headed toward it.

  “It’s much warmer today,” he called back to her, “take advantage of it. Plenty to do around here. Go on outside.”

  Jessica stood watching him at the wall for a long moment then walked away, stepping back out into the melting snow. She walked to the middle of the bridge and looked down at the frozen water below. She remembered ice skating at Rockefeller Center and her heart sank again. She looked around for the ducks, but they were nowhere to be seen. She walked slowly back to the house where she found Arlette snoring, her head back and mouth agape, seated in chair by the window; a book fallen to the floor at her feet. Jessica walked to the steps and went to find her father.

  Julien rarely left the bedroom anymore. He spent most of his time there, alone and often sleeping. Jessica didn’t know what to make of it. She couldn’t remember him ever sleeping so much. She approached the bed and stood watching him. She shifted her weight and purposely knocked into the mattress, but he didn’t stir. She moved around to the side where she leaned down beside him. She came in close, nearly touching the tip of her nose to his. Her eyes crossed as she tried to focus. She nodded her head and whispered indistinguishable ramblings. Julien brought a hand up and rubbed at his upper lip then turned onto his back, without opening his eyes.

  Jessica stepped back, away from the bed. She looked around and s
aw his Zippo on the nightstand. She knew better than to touch it. Turning around, she looked at the iron staircase then glanced back at Julien, who still hadn’t awoken. She went to the stairs and quietly took then, one step at a time, circling to the top then pushing on the square cutout above. The door opened and she felt a fast rush of cool air followed by warm sunlight. She ducked down below the floor to peek at Julien again, but he was asleep. She walked up the last few steps, closed the trap door behind her then stood up to look out over the property.

  White snow and tall trees surrounded her. Mountains in the distance with sparse tufts of billowing smoke from far away chimneys, all came into view. Her eyes grew wide and bright. She had found a magic room. She stepped to the other side and looked out over the endless apple orchard. Birds flew off in different directions. She could see a number of squirrels hopping between the apple trees, busily digging at the snow. Out of nowhere, a rapid blur headed straight for her and before she could dip out of its way, the blue jay landed on the wood framework beside her. It danced back and forth with a small black bug in its beak then threw its head back and swallowed the insect. It squawked loudly and a group of sparrows scattered, fearfully from the tree tops. Jessica leaned her elbows on the wood and rested her chin on her fists. She sighed then reached out to run a gentle finger over the bird’s crest. She looked back at the orchard where two squirrels chased after each other, spiraling up a tree then back down again, only to change direction and start over. Enamored by their game of tag, she looked at the bird. Glancing around, she turned away and sat on the floor then patted the ground before her. The jay fluttered to her shoulder then onto the ground.

  A loud thud woke Julien. He looked to the bedroom door, but the hallway was quiet. It was still daylight and he had no idea how long he had been sleeping. He listened for sound on the first level, but instead heard the faintest mumblings and giggles coming from above. He looked over at the iron staircase. There was no light seeping in; the door was closed. He sat up and rubbed at his face. He felt drunk from prolonged hours of unnecessary sleep. The giggling erupted again. He lit a cigarette and stretched. He wondered what Jessica and Sarah were doing in the widow’s walk, but hadn’t the energy to follow after them.

  Arlette appeared in the doorway, “Oh look, he’s awake. Miracles of miracles. Is Jessica with you?”

  “She’s…” Julien thought better than to offer any information and stopped himself, “…with Sarah, no?”

  “Sarah and Rachael just came in from the coop. They’ve lost track of her.”

  If it isn’t Sarah in the widow’s walk with Jessica…

  Who is up there?

  “Maybe she’s playing in woods, by the creek? She likes it there.”

  “Maybe…?” she huffed. “Why don’t you get yourself out of bed and clean up a bit? Dinner will be ready soon. Make an effort for once,” Arlette said and stomped back down the hallway.

  Julien stubbed out his cigarette and jumped up. He hurried up the iron staircase and opened the trapdoor, poking his head out. Jessica spun around to face him with a look of surprise. She studied his expression for any sign that she might be in trouble. Julien immediately knew he had caught her doing something she shouldn’t.

  “What are you doing up here?” he asked.

  Jessica rocked back against the wood, tucking her hands behind her back.

  “I heard you laughing with someone.” He glanced around, “Are you playing?”

  He climbed up the rest of the way to join her and closed the door. He looked out over the view. Rachael and Sarah were off in the distance heading into the trees, in search of Jessica. He took a deep breath of crisp air and turned around to enjoy the view. His jaw dropped as his eyes fell upon Owen Albright, precariously straddling a narrow roof peak. The boy sat there, dressed in a powder blue and white T-ball uniform, the head of a blue jay emblazoned on his chest. Julien stared at him twenty feet away, at the very furthest tip of the rooftop.

  The little boy smiled and Julien froze for several seconds, stunned and afraid to move. He looked down at Jessica; a slow grin spread across her face, still unsure if she might be in trouble.

  Julien lurched to the far end of the walk.

  “Owen…don’t move! Stay right there, okay?” Julien looked down at the distance between Owen and the frozen ground below. The melting snow leaving the roof shingles damp and slick.

  He looked back at Jessica, “You stay right here. Do not move from here.” He gave Jessica’s shoulder a fast shake, letting her know he meant business. Jessica looked down, sullen and rocking in place.

  “Owen, I’m going to come get you. You stay where you are until I tell you to move.”

  “”I can fly,” Owen said, his speech impediment garbling his words.

  “No…no you cannot. You cannot fly any longer. Stay where you are,” Julien pleaded with the boy, as he lifted himself to sit on the wood framing, which separated them. He rotated his legs over the ledge and onto the roof. He tested the shingles and gauged how easy it would be to slip. “How did you make it out there?” he tried to keep Owen talking.

  Owen shrugged and started to get up.

  “No! Owen, don’t…just wait,” Julien instructed and Owen, startled, sat back down.

  Julien stood, balancing himself on the thin edge of the roof peak. He held tight to the widow’s walk and slowly lowered himself down to straddle the roof facing Owen. His intense fear of heights in full grip, he lifted himself, inching closer to the boy in increments.

  “Do you have a razecah?” Owen asked.

  “What? Do I have what?” Julien couldn’t understand all of his quick, jumbled speech.

  “A race car! Do you have a race car?”

  Julien laughed nervously, “No, I do not have a race car.”

  “Do you have a boat?”

  “No, Owen,’ Julien looked to his sides. He was now far enough from the widow’s walk or anything else to grab hold of, and one slip, would send him crashing to the ground. “I do not have a boat. Right now, I have nothing.”

  …but a fading will to live.

  “Why? Everybody has things. I have Transformers. Lots of them. In my bedroom at home.”

  “Oh, that is very good. Transformers are good.”

  “Do you have a motorcycle?”

  “I had a motorcycle. I have had several motorcycles.”

  “Why do you talk funny?”

  Julien laughed, “I talk funny? You are not exactly easy to understand, yourself.”

  Owen grew impatient and began to get up again.

  “No! Owen don’t…!” Julien demanded.

  Owen ignored him this time and got to his feet. Holding his arms out to his sides, he balanced and wobbled and found his footing again. Julien, with still seven-feet between them, gasped at the sight, but Owen could wait no longer. He took a step toward Julien.

  “Owen…please… I want you to sit back down. Do you see how far the ground is?”

  “I’m a bird. I can flyyy!” Owen turned in a circle, flapping his arms. He teetered and nearly lost his step then righted himself again.

  “Dammit, Owen… Sit back down!”

  The more Owen danced about, the more Julien felt dizzy.

  “Owen…Please… You are going to fall. We will both fall.” The moment he said it, Owen’s foot slid down one side of the roof. Julien, too far to grab him, watched Owen sway, his eyes wide as saucers. The little boy flapped his arms, twisting himself from side to side, then suddenly regained his balance once again.

  Julien closed his eyes, gripping tight to the narrow peak; his heart pounding in his chest. Owen took a few steps toward him, and then a few more. The boy reached out, placing a hand on Julien’s shoulder.

  Julien opened his eyes, the world around him spinning. He wanted to grab Owen, but his intense phobia kept him from letting go of the roof.

  “Just sit back down and I’ll lead you…” Before he could finish the sentence, Owen stepped around him and scampered back to the w
idow’s walk, leaving Julien, his back to the kids, stranded on the narrow peak.

  Partly relieved and partly terrified, Julien began to guardedly shimmy himself backward until he could get a grip behind him, on the widow’s walk for balance. He carefully turned around and brought himself back over the sill to safety. He sat there on the floor, catching his breath and staring at the two children, cross-legged and watching him.

  Owen turned to Jessica, “Can I go back to school now?”

  Julien sat forward and pulled Jessica close, “No one…I mean no one…can know that Owen is here. Do you understand me?”

  Jessica’s expression crumbled again and he kissed her cheek.

  “You are not in any trouble. This is a good thing that you have done, but we do not want these people to know that Owen is here. It is not safe for him here. I will take care of this, but I need you to go find Sarah or Arlette. They are looking for you and we do not want them to come up to the bedroom. Go find them and stay with them. I will come to find you later.” He kissed her again and gave her a gentle push.

  Jessica jumped up and opened the trapdoor, leaving them behind.

  Julien looked to Owen, “Owen, this is very important and I need you to listen to what I am saying to you…no games.”

  “I’m hungry,” Owen said.

  “I will get you food, but I need for you to take me very seriously right now. There are people here that are not very nice. If they know you are here, it will be a very bad thing.”

  “Why?” Owen moved to pop up and Julien reached out and pushed him back down. He took Owen’s chin in his hand, forcing him to look his way.

  “Owen, do you want to go back to school? Do you want to see your mother?”

  Owen settled down and slowly nodded.

  “Then you must do as I say. It is not very cold today. I will bring you a blanket and some food to eat, but first, you must wait here and not move. No noise, no coming downstairs. You cannot even raise your head above the wood here,” he patted at the frame of the widow’s walk ledge.